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kj-1130 · 4 years ago

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Nothing For Me

Part 2

Main Masterlist

Part 1|Part 3

2012

You were turning 11 this year. Natasha, as you learned she went by, was always a phone call away if you ever wanted to talk--since your sperm donor was obviously no help. You had recently had to call her due to your period starting, which you weren’t expecting to happen for at least another 2 to 3 years. Needless to say, it freaked you out and regardless of your smarts, nothing could have prepared you for that.

Nat took you shopping for what she called, ‘lady items’; bras, pads, tampons, anything a girl could possibly need. She also taught you how to shave if you ever wanted to. She specified that you should never feel forced to do it because ‘people need to normalize women having body hair. It grows there for a reason.’ And you totally agreed with her on that by the way.

There were a few times when she’d let you in on minor S.H.I.E.L.D secrets even though it was quite unnecessary seeing as you could hack your way through it all no problem. That’s how you found out about the Avengers Initiative. You couldn’t agree more with what was said about Tony.

Through your hacking and research of the initiative, you ‘met’ Clint. It was through a video call. He had invaded your girl-talk with Natasha. The three of you were practically best buds now. You’d go to Nat for advice or just when you needed a sister to talk to. You’d go to Clint when you just wanted to let loose and talk about absolute nonsense.

It was another lovely night in Stark Tower for you--please note the sarcasm. You were bored out of your mind. Natasha had been on an undercover mission and Clint was busy at the base; something about the Tesseract. You thought they should’ve just left the thing alone; let fate take its course. Some bad things were going to come with them messing with something they had no knowledge about. They’re joining a game without knowing any rules and are pretty much destined to lose. But, hey. What did you know?

Pepper and Tony were probably in the common area, sucking each other's faces off. Despite how much you disliked Tony, based on your experiences, you couldn’t deny the fact that they’re pining was absolutely annoying, disgusting, and cute all at the same time. You were just glad it was over honestly.

Pepper was an okay person to you. There was nothing you found super nice or mean about her that was prominent to you. She’d greet you on the quite rare occasion the two of you would cross paths and would start the casual small talk (“how are you?” “I’m fine, what about you” “Good, thanks for asking.”). She probably thought you were a live-in intern or something like that. With how much she tries to doctor Tony’s life, you’d think she would try to fix whatever nonexistent relationship between the pair of you, but nope. That just added to your intern theory.

You were reading a book on quantum physics, when your personal AI, M.I.A(miraculous intelligence assistant)--that you did in fact create yourself--notified you that someone had overridden Stark’s systems and gotten into the elevator. Just because you didn’t leave the room doesn’t mean you weren’t nosy.

“Who is it, M?”

“Agent Phil Coulson, from S.H.I.E.L.D.,” M.I.A. spoke in her smooth voice. “Would you like to listen in on what they are saying?”

“Is that even a question?”

Jumping out of your beanbag, you went to the center of your room, where M.I.A had pulled up footage of what was happening in the common room.

“Security breach,” Tony turns to Pepper. “That’s on you.”

“Mr. Stark.”

“Phil! Come in,” Pepper greeted. Since when were she and Agent Coulson on a first-name basis. You’d have to look into that.

“Phil? Uh, his first name is Agent.”

“Come on in, we’re celebrating,” the red head invites. This was getting more interesting to you by the second!

“I can’t stay.”

“Which is why he can’t stay.”

Phil ignores Tony and starts to hand him a file.

“He doesn’t like being handed things,” you muttered.

“I don't like being handed things.” Called it.

“That’s alright, ‘cause I love being handed things, So, let’s trade,” Pepper says. She hands Coulson her glass of champagne, takes the file, hands Tony the file, in return taking his drink.

“Official consulting hours are between eight and five every other Thursday,” the billionaire said.

It was quite obvious Phil was over his jokes and that he was here for a much important matter.

“Is this about the Avengers? Which I...I know nothing about.”

Both men ignored Pepper. “The Avengers Initiative was scrapped, I thought. And I didn’t even qualify.”

That was a nice day. Finding out what they said about Tony had been nothing less than amusing in your opinion.

“I didn’t know that either,” the CEO said. She sure does have the best cover-ups, doesn’t she?

“Yeah, apparently I’m volatile, self-obsessed, don’t play well with others.”

“That I did know.”

This whole thing was odd to you. Why were they trying to put together the Avengers when the whole idea was tossed?

“M, pull up the most recent S.H.I.E.L.D files on the tesseract and the Avengers Initiative.”

The AI did as told, and you scrolled through all of them. You saw things on Thor, Clint, Natasha, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, and lastly your sperm donor. Looking at Thor’s file, you found something about his brother Loki. And looking at his name, you saw his connections to the tesseract and everything had clicked. Loki had the thing and was definitely going to do something evil with it.

Both adults in the house were gone. Such responsible ones they are. Tony left earlier the next day and you honestly couldn’t remember when Pepper left. Now, here you were in your safe haven, trying to figure out what in the world Loki would want with the tesseract. There’s probably no way for you to figure it out since you weren’t where all the info was, actively investigating. But what you didn’t understand is why would they leave you here when such a threat was hanging in the air.

You knew Tony didn’t necessarily care for you, but he couldn’t forget about you, right? Natasha wouldn’t forget about you. Clint wouldn’t forget you. Right?

It’s been two days. Two fucking days, and no one had come in or out of this building.

You were currently pacing in your room, while your AI--not even a fucking person--was trying to comfort you.

“Does no one answer their fucking phone anymore?”

“I’m pretty sure there is a reasonable explanation as to why no one is answering.”

Out of nowhere, you heard commotion from outside. Rushing over to the window and moving the curtains, you saw these alien things coming out of the sky. You ran out of your room and made your way to the nearest set of stairs as quickly as you could.

“Ah, the little Stark.”

His voice sent chills up your spine. It was deep and quite terrifying.

“Come over, no need to be scared.”

You followed his orders, having a feeling that if you didn’t things would end up ten times worse for you. He looked at you before basically yeeting you out of the window. It hurt; it felt like every bone in your body screamed for peace and anything in the background just became white noise.

You landed on the roof, writhing in pain and groaning. Everything hurt.

Attempting to get up was hard and painful, but you knew that you had to leave or you’d die.

Looking up, you see that doctor. He was mentioned in the files but everything was just so fuzzy, you couldn’t remember properly. Finally being able to get up after numerous attempts, you limp your way down the stairs and out to the streets in the middle of all the chaos.

You were so scared. You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to contact Nat or Clint unless you somehow hacked into their coms system. You continued to walk down the streets, hoping to find some type of shelter, but it felt like you were about to collapse at any second. Sitting down in the nearest alley, you looked around. Looking left, there was a face right in front of yours.

“Fuck! What the hell man?”

The other person wasn’t fazed. Looking them over, you saw their frizzy, somewhat curly hair pulled back in a low ponytail. Her brown skin was covered in dirt and a little blood.

“Hey, you’re (y/n) Stark, right?” She asked a little breathlessly.

“I refuse to be acknowledged as such.”

“I’m Michelle. But don't call me that or I’ll have to hurt you.”

“Are you really trying to converse with me in the middle of an alien invasion? And acting like we’re both not hurt?”

Michelle shrugs her shoulders when you both look over due to some yelling that you heard.

“MJ! Michelle where are you? Michelle Jones!”

MJ looks back over and starts to get up but she trips and falls. You decide to help her up and take her over to the people calling her name. You both struggle but eventually get over to the adults with some time.

Before you could get away from the Jones family, the mother gripped your shoulder.

“C’mon, stay with us. We’ll find somewhere to lay low.“

You were too tired and in too much pain to argue, so you let Michelle’s mother help you keep your balance while the young girl’s father did the same for her.

It was at least a good ten minutes until the four of you found a decent place to take a break. It looked like a gas station, but you really couldn’t tell due to how much damage there was. You and the Jones’ took cover behind a somewhat stable looking wall and tried to stay as quiet as possible.

It was quiet besides the distant screams of people and the yells of the aliens. You wondered if Nat and Clint were okay. You wondered if Tony was okay. You wondered if anyone was safe from this. This seemed like something no one could recover from.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” The older woman asked.

“(Y/n).”

“Where are your parents?”

“My sperm donor is fighting I guess.”

To say the adults were appalled by your bluntness was an understatement. You’ve had a potty mouth for quite a while. There was no one to really correct you on what to and not to say--not that you really needed help with that being a genius and all; well a genius with common sense because your father didn’t have any of that. Without anyone to really monitor what you did, you kind of just roamed free in a sense.

The fight had died down eventually. The aliens were still coming, but a substantial amount of them had been killed. How a group of 6 people/gods/supersoldiers/or whatever amazed you. Maybe you could work behind the scenes one day; even though you already do. Just without anyone knowing.

Before you knew it, there was a nuke flying across the sky. ‘Leave it to the government to find an excuse to hurt civilians,’ you thought. But before it could hit anything, you saw a red and gold figure carry it to the portal.

You knew who it was. He was going to sacrifice himself for the safety of these people. If he didn’t make it, you would miss him even though there wouldn’t be much to miss. When that portal closed, your heart dropped to your stomach. You would never be able to make amends with him. You would never have a single conversation with him. Yeah he was a total douche bag for forgetting all about you, but you had at least expected to be able to see and maybe talk to him. Sort things out.

Without thinking, you ran as fast as you could towards where the newly assembled Avengers were; well at least where you last saw them. You ignored the calls of the Jones family, telling you to come back. Their protests telling you not to go so you can stay safe. You ignored the pain. The aching of your ribs. The dull throbbing in your head and on your lips. There was no doubt that your steps were uneven; limping down the street at your speed probably made you look like a crackhead.

You kept running; not stopping. Not when your breaths got shorter and turned into wheezes. Not when you heard rattling in your chest. Not when you felt like you were going to collapse. Not when your joints popped and begged for rest. You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Not until you found someone; anyone you knew.

You stopped after what felt like hours. It most likely was considering the sun was going down. You heard a little commotion inside a surprisingly intact building which turned out to be a Shawarma. Tony always talked about this place for some reason.

When you looked inside, the Avengers were there. At least, you guessed they were still called that. But that didn’t matter. They were relaxing after the battle. They looked quite relaxed considering they had just fought aliens.

But that was what kind of hurt. They weren’t worried about you. At all. Of course only 3--well not really 3. Only two really knew you and knew you were in that tower when the attack happened. Sure you weren’t expecting Clint or Nat to be running around the streets of this huge city, but a little effort or at least the thought of it would’ve been nice. You could’ve been dead and they sure as hell didn’t seem super worried about it. Maybe you were overthinking it. Or maybe you were just as forgettable and insignificant as you thought.

You limped away from the establishment, trying to find somewhere to stay seeing as your home--if you could even call it that--was most likely destroyed. And you were in your feelings and nothing was a better cure than isolating yourself even more. You also wanted to see if you could get M.I.A running on a computer or something. Maybe update yourself on what was going on over the world at the moment. Or look up your frizzy-haired friend you met while you were running for your life.

You managed to find a computer near a dumpster. You leaned back against the wall and slid down slowly, not wanting to aggravate your injuries too much. You were able to get M.I.A running on the laptop and then looked up any news. The headlines were crazy. All you saw was the fight that just happened and the death count rising and rising…

You didn’t want to be focused on anything dealing with your father, S.H.I.E.L.D., or any current events, so you decided to give M.I.A. the task of figuring out who Michelle and her family was. It sounded very creepy, but you were her age. What harm could you do with her info. Well you could cause harm to her and her family with any info you found but that was besides the point. The most you were going to do was send them a message or something like that.

You ended up sleeping in that alley. Deciding that you should head back to your place of residence, you got up and started walking back much to the process of your bones and joints. The tower seemed like it was so far away. Especially with your injuries and supposedly no one around to tend to them. After what felt like hours, you made it to the entrance of the establishment and, surprise surprise, it’s already being rebuilt. You honestly didn’t know what time it was. You just wanted to get in your bed and sleep forever.

It had been about a month since the Battle of New York. Your injuries weren’t treated until about a week after the fact. Not because someone noticed you were hurt, but because it was getting hard to breathe and that didn’t seem like a fun way to go to you.

You’d been healing nicely so far, but your emotions and mental health were on the opposite side of the spectrum. Every time you close your eyes, you had this dream, vision, whatever it was, that when Loki threw you out the window, there was no balcony or landing area to stop on. You just kept falling, and falling until you hit the ground. Then you woke up.

You had been isolating yourself as well. There had been plenty of missed calls from the pair, but you just couldn’t find the energy to move and pick up the phone. They were probably just doing it out of obligation anyway.

Seeing everyone, especially Nat and Clint, just made you rethink anything you’ve ever done. Were you too clingy when it came to Natasha? Did she really like you or did she just feel bad? You were probably just overreacting, but you can’t help but think these thoughts.

Everything was just spiraling out of control for you. And you couldn’t get help; well you at least felt like you couldn’t. If you told Tony--not that you would, but hypothetically-- he’d probably wave you off and laugh. If you tried to get a therapist, someone would probably leak that shit to the press; confidentiality be damned.

You felt like you were drowning and you didn’t know how much longer it would be until you fully sank.

#nothing for me miniseries #avengers x black!reader #avengers x teen!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x stark!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton #clint barton x teen!reader #teen!reader #avengers x reader #michelle jones x fem!reader

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fic-for-fic-sake · 3 years ago

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A Happy Accident

A/N: The other day I found out that Chris Evans may possibly have a sex dungeon? I don’t write real people fics but I knew I HAD to write a Steve Rogers fic about this because I mean...c’mon. Also the text conversation in the fic is indeed a real conversation between my friend and I.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, dom/sub, flogging, being tied up, penetrative sex, honorifics, praise kink

Word Count: 5.4k

You knew there was trouble before you even reached the meeting room, it was like a palpable tension you could sense coming from the conference room. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever was to come as you walked in and took your usual spot next to Natasha.

“Do you have any idea what this is about?” You questioned her, murmuring under your breath since nobody seemed keen to speak above a whisper for the time being.

“Some kind of security breach, we don’t know how bad yet, we have to wait for Stark.” She explained, speaking in clipped tones. She seemed nervous, which was understandable given the circumstances. A security breach could mean a number of things, none of them good. Anything from weapons tech to secret identities could’ve been revealed in the breach.

The tension seemed to come to a head when Tony and Steve walked into the room. Everyone erupted into a flurry of activity, peppering the two men with so many questions it was hard to make out what came from who.

“What was taken?” Someone asked.

“Was it anything serious?” Someone else wondered.

“Do we need to scrap the new suit designs?” You asked, adding your voice to the babble.

“Okay everyone settle down and give Tony some room to think.” Steve urged all of you, forming a one man barrier around Stark. Which you had to admit was rather effective. Once everyone reseated themselves and Steve gave Tony a nod, Tony cleared his throat.

“By now you all have obviously heard that there’s been a security breach. We don’t know who is behind the breach but so far all that was leaked was text conversations of the following Avengers; Wanda, Sam, Bucky, and Y/N.”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. You were a target in the security breach. But why? Why you specifically and why just your text conversations? It seemed rather harmless considering everything else they could’ve taken.

“Luckily Wanda doesn’t really text anyone because everyone she knows is here. As far as Sam, Bucky, and Y/N are concerned they only leaked conversations from your work phones, meaning your personal phone security isn’t in question.” Tony reassured you all. Well, it reassured Sam and Bucky at least.

“Um, what do you mean ‘work phone’?” You asked, looking around with a puzzled expression on your face.

“You do have a burner phone for personal use, right?” Nat asked from beside you. Now your heart was located somewhere in your feet.

“I didn’t know I needed one.” You whispered, barely contained horror edging its way into your voice.

“Well, I mean what’s the worst that could be there?” Sam asked, trying to reassure you. Luckily, or unluckily enough, you didn’t have to answer that question because within the coming days they would all find out.

After the meeting you tried to go about your normal routine and ignore the security breach as best as you could. That got considerably harder the following morning, when the hacker released your private conversations with your friends for all the world to see. They went something like this:

Sarah: Do you think Steve Rogers is good in bed?

You: Obviously, dumb question.

Sarah: Do you think he’s kinky though?

You: Oh 100%, no way he doesn’t have a secret sex dungeon or something.

Sarah: Since you’re an Avenger now you should try to find out.

You: HAHAHAHAHA that’s hilarious and something I’ll never do, in reality. But in theory PUT ME IN COACH! I bet he would probably make me sign an NDA and I would totally be down for that.

Sarah: I’ll sign a DNR

You: HAA, I would sign the NDA but also have to tell you what’s happening and then I would make you sign an NDA.

Sarah: Then you’re breaking the NDA??

You: Not if you don’t tell anyone goddamn be cool.

Sarah: It’s the principle of the thing

You: ...I wonder what kind of dom he is

Sarah: Idk if he’s a daddy. He feels like a Sir or Master. I also think he doesn’t have soft limits, only hard limits.

You: as much as I would like to think he’s a pleasure dom I don’t think that’s true

Sarah: I agree

You: Maybe a brat tamer?

Sarah: That feels too tame for him.

You: Okay so then just a no holds bard whipping dom. I would wait all day in his sex dungeon just to lick his boots when he came home. Does that make me depraved? Probably.

Sarah: Possibly, I also think he’d degrade the shit out of you, like kinda pet play shit. I also think he has a spreader bar collection. Aaaand an overstimulation kink.

You: Oh agreed, that and edging. I feel like he would edge you for hours and then leave to go on a mission or something and you’re not allowed to touch yourself and then he comes back hours later and you’re just aching for release. And then only after you’re BEGGING he would let you come.

Sarah: Oof. How much do you wanna bet his dungeon is like a sensory deprivation thing? Think about it, hours upon hours of not having any form of relief, after begging nonstop, no real form of your senses and then BAM normal orgasm but heightened to the absolute max.

You: YEP! I bet he’s like the king of aftercare though, like 1000/10 so sweet. Like Steve Rogers is legit such a nice human being so I assume aftercare is the same.

Sarah: AYO SIR LEMME BE YOUR SUB

You: GOD FORREAL!

Needless to say, you did not leave your room that day. The next day you tried to get away with not leaving your room again but Nat was having none of that.

“Come on Y/N, I promise it’s not that bad, I’ve said much worse.” She assured you as she practically dragged you out of your room and into the elevator.

You buried your head in your hands and let out a frustrated scream. “He’s a coworker, Nat, and I totally objectified him and basically said all the filthy things I wanted him to do to me.”

“And I bet he’s real flattered about it! The man needs a good ego boost every now and then.” She replied with a laugh. To which you responded with another frustrated scream and a kick to the elevator doors as they opened. “I bet he didn’t even read it, I doubt anyone on the team did.” She said, sounding certain in her own thinking. She half convinced you until you walked into the training room and every pair of eyes turned to you, including Steve’s baby blues. Fuck.

“Okay we’re working in a group today people, focusing on enhanced individuals with external powers. Wanda and Y/N against Sam, Bucky, and Steve.” Nat announced, opening the door to the special training facility. So you and Wanda wouldn’t trash too much of Stark’s equipment with your powers.

“Hey Y/N, you been to any good sex dungeouns recently? I’m looking for one.” Sam quipped as you made your way to the starting point. Before you could even think about what you were doing the smell of ozone was ripe in the air and you sent a bolt of lightning hurtling towards Sam who was barely able to dodge it in time.

“Sorry...hand slipped.” You mock apologized, making it clear that you would have another ‘hand slip’ if he didn’t keep his mouth shut. He got the point well enough but the damage was already done. The tension was worse now than when you first found out about the breach, everyone trying not to bring up the elephant in the room.

Nat cleared her throat and started her countdown and then the training began in earnest. After an hour you were all panting and sweating, utterly spent from your session. Steve passed everyone a water bottle and you took it gratefully, chugging the cool liquid in earnest. It was then that another comment was made, this time by Bucky.

“Thanks for the aftercare daddy.” He mocked as he opened his own water bottle. Once again the smell of ozone was in the air but you didn’t have a chance to meet your target before Steve had Bucky pressed against the wall, his forearm digging into the other man’s throat.

“That’s enough.” He growled through his teeth. Everyone was silent for a minute and you almost felt sorry for the deer in the headlights look Bucky was now wearing on his face, almost. A shower of frustrated sparks extinguished all the lights in the room as you stormed from the room, embarrassment trailing after you.

That had been four hours ago and you hadn’t left your room, despite Natasha banging on the other side of your door. You had asked FRIDAY not to open it for anyone unless given your express permission. It seemed even the AI knew what kind of a mess you had landed yourself into, as she was immediately understanding of such a request. You were in the process of ordering a burner phone off of Amazon when there was a knock at your door.

“Nat, I don’t care how many books you offer to buy me, I’m NOT coming out of this room.” You yelled into the empty space of your room.

“Noted, but uh, it’s Steve. Can we talk?” You were at the door before he finished his sentence. You opened it no more than a crack, not courageous enough to do more.

“I don’t wanna talk to you, I’m mortified.” You mumbled, looking down at your feet instead of the imposing figure outside of your door. Steve gently pushed on the door with his hand and you let him open it the rest of the way. He brought gentle fingers to your chin and tilted your head back so you were looking into his eyes.

“There’s nothing to be mortified about, sweetheart. I just wanna talk.” He replied beseechingly. And maybe it was the tone of his voice, or the way he looked at you, but you relented and let him in, closing the door softly behind you.

“Listen, I’m really sorry for what I said. I obviously never thought it would see the light of day but that’s not an excuse and doesn’t make it okay. Fuck, Steve I’m so sorry. I can get reassigned if you want, have SHIELD put me somewhere else.” You rattled off apologies and half baked plans before you felt his hands gently clasp your shoulders and once again you were forced to look up into his eyes which had gone saucer wide.

“Doll what are you talking about? You don’t need to be reassigned, it's not that big of a deal.” He said, in an attempt to comfort you.

“Not a big deal? I practically accused you of having a sex dungeon and being a mega dom.” You blurted out, mortification making your voice rise half an octave.

He let out a soft sigh before he sat down on the edge of your bed, “It’s not like you were completely in the wrong.” He replied, and that’s when your brain short circuited.

“What? You have a sex dungeon?”

“Well, it’s not a dungeon, it's just my bedroom, but yes I do, partake in those types of things you described.” He explained, his voice as even and calm as if he were discussing the weather.

“Oh.” Was all you could really bring yourself to say.

“Oh? That’s all? I have to say you were much more articulate in your texts.” He teased, his voice suddenly becoming deeper and taking on an air of authority that wasn’t there a second ago. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

And again, maybe it was because of his tone or because of the absurdity of the situation you found yourself in but you answered him honestly. “I’m thinking I’m absolutely mortified that my coworker found out how badly I want him to fuck me.”

“What else?” He prompted. You couldn’t breathe properly, he was taking all the air from the room and the intensity in his gaze pinned you to the spot, like an unsuspecting doe finding itself at the barrel of a gun.

“I’m wondering how correct my predictions were. What kind of a dom you are.”

“Would you like to find out?”

“Yes.” You answered before you could think better of it. The second the word left your mouth your eyes went wide at the confession. Because you did want to find out, God did you want to find out what kind of shit Steve Rogers, the golden boy, was into.

“Then we have ourselves a deal. You want to find out what I’m into and I want to show you.”

“Right now?” You asked, breathless. You could feel your core ache at the suggestion, the want plain as day.

He chuckled before he moved to stand before you. “No pretty girl, not yet.” He whispered, bringing his right hand up to cup your cheek and stroke his thumb across the expanse of your lips. “First we have to talk about a few things.”

“Like what?” You questioned, completely enraptured by this man, finding yourself willing to submit to whatever he wanted you to. You were terrified by how much the prospect excited you.

“Like exactly what you want me to do to you. Your texts were very...explicit. But, that may have just been talk. I need to know specifics if this is going to work.” Steve explained, backing you up until you hit your dresser. Without a word he lifted you on top of it and stood between your legs, one of his hands tracing absent minded patterns on your thigh.

It was hard to think with him in such close proximity but you tried to clear your mind because you really wanted this, your mouth went dry at the thought. “I want...I want to be tied up. And I want to be blindfolded. And whipped.” It felt weird to lay your desires out plain before you like this. It made you feel exposed, but it was also oddly empowering.

Steve nodded his head at your requests. “You mentioned something to your friend about edging and orgasm denial, is that something you still wanted to try?”

“Yes, but not, not yet. I’ve never um, I haven’t- I’ve never been kinky with a partner.” You explained to him, feeling an embarrassing heat creeping up your face.

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed, we all start somewhere.” Steve insisted, bringing his hands up to settle on your hips. “Anything else?” After you shook your head he gave you a nod in reassurance. “Okay, I’ll be in touch.” He said as he stepped away from you.

That was three days ago and you hadn’t heard anything from him on the matter since. You had trained with him, went for a run with him, had the usual team meetings and exchanged the usual pleasantries but nothing out of the ordinary. You had even gone far enough in your wandering mind to think that maybe you imagined the whole interaction.

On Friday, you were told that Steve had gone away on a mission and by that point the team was done teasing you about the leaked conversation, already having moved on to the next thing. You had made plans to go out with them that night to a community outreach thing in Manhattan. You had just gotten your jeans on when a piece of paper slid across your floor from the door.

You walked over to it, thinking someone had just dropped their paper, when you saw what was written on the other side of it.

Text an excuse to Stark for the outreach and then come to my room. -SR

Your heartbeat sped up to a gallop as you read the message through two more times, just to be certain. This was it, it was happening. With shaky fingers you texted Tony a flimsy excuse about draft reports you needed to finish before you put your phone back on your desk and calmly made your way to Steve’s room.

You went to knock but found the door slightly ajar. Taking that as your cue you stepped into Steve Rogers room. While it wasn’t the first time you had been here, it was certainly a circumstance that you weren’t used to. Everything seemed...different somehow. The curtains were drawn and the only light came from dim overhead lighting. There was a faint scent of jasmine that you assumed came from a candle or incense burner you couldn’t see somewhere. On the bed, the sheets had been changed to something that looked like silk and resting on top was an eye mask and two long chords of rope. Which seemed innocuous enough, current circumstances notwithstanding.

“Shut the door and lock it please.” A voice commanded from a shadow in the corner of the room. As soon as you locked the door Steve Rogers emerged from the shadows in an all black version of his Captain America suit. You had never seen him in such a suit before and the sight of him in it made your mouth water and your knees buckle. This was really happening.

“I have to admit, when I read your text conversation I was surprised to say the least. I didn’t know how many dirty thoughts resided in that head of yours but you did not disappoint, did you sweetheart?” He questioned as he made his way over to where you stood, rooted to your spot by the door. He gently pressed against your shoulder and you followed his lead, letting him back you against the door, his strong hands landing on either side of your head, arms caging you in. “And then when we spoke, you were /very/ specific in what you wanted and I am nothing if not obliging, you’ll find.” He whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped your mouth at the implication behind his words.

“Are you ready to be my good girl? Hmm sweetheart?”

“Yes Steve.” You whispered, your mind not being able to form anything other than those words.

He made a slight tsking sound. “In here, don’t call me Steve. It’s Captain. Got it?”

“Yes Captain.” You replied obediently.

“Good girl, now get undressed for me.” He commanded, stepping back to give you room to complete his task. With nervous fingers you lifted your shirt above your head and undid the clasp on your bra. You watched as Steve’s eyes took in your exposed top half, he licked his lips which made you shiver in turn. Confidence growing by his visible excitement you unbuttoned your jeans and slipped them down your legs along with your panties, until you were gloriously naked before him.

“God, you're so beautiful sweetheart. I’m already getting hard and all you’ve done is get undressed.” He praised you as he palmed himself through his tac pants. “Come here pretty girl.” He insisted as he picked up the blindfold.

You walked over to him and turned around as he secured the blindfold against your eyes and tied it for you. “Now, we’re gonna use a color system, okay? Green means you’re okay to keep going, Yellow means to slow down, and Red means stop. Can you remember that doll?”

“Yes Captain.” You murmured as you adjusted to not being able to see. You tuned into your other senses to rely on what was happening. You felt Steve take your hand and walk you over until you reached the side of the bed. He helped you up before asking you to lay down on your back.

“Okay pretty girl I’m gonna tie you up now.” He told you as you felt both of his hands take your left arm and maneuver it above your head before securing your wrist in place with rope. He pressed a gentle kiss to the spot before repeating the process with your other arm. “How do you feel sweetheart?”

“Good Captain, I feel good.” You told him as your heartbeat kicked up another notch. You felt him take your left leg with gentle fingers and tie your ankle to the baseboard of the bed. You gasped as he secured your right ankle, knowing you were now naked and spread bare before him. You felt the bed dip as he kneeled over you and brought his mouth down to whisper in your ear.

“What’s your color baby?”

“Green.” You replied. Almost immediately you felt his lips press against yours, desperate and hungry for you. You kissed back with a fervor you didn’t know you possessed. It was a strange sensation, kissing someone you couldn’t touch let alone see, but that didn’t make it unpleasant. You felt blissfully detached from your body and the need raced down to your pussy until you had the sudden urge to close your legs and hide your arousal.

Steve chuckled against your mouth as his left hand snaked down to see what you were trying in vain to hide. “So eager for me and we’ve hardly started” He lazily swiped his fingers along your folds to feel the wetness that gathered there. He then brought the same hand up to your breast and worked your juices around your nipple, making you groan at the sheer wantonness of it all. Steve happily swallowed your groan with his mouth, his tongue taking the opportunity to pass your lips.

You fervently kissed him back as his ministrations against your nipple continued. His lips left yours and left a trail of hot kisses down your throat and over to your neglected right nipple. You felt him blow cold air on it and your back bowed against the bed, your arms straining against the restraints. He scraped his teeth against your sensitive bud and you couldn’t help the noises that escaped your mouth.

“Oh fuck, Captain.” You let out as he took your nipple into his mouth. You could feel his left hand leave your nipple and you let out a whine of protest. He only laughed against your skin before you heard the faint opening of a drawer. Your ears picked up the sound of him rummaging around for something but you couldn’t focus too much on that as the rest of your body was alight with fire as he continued to work on your nipple with his mouth. He finally found what he was looking for in the drawer and he released your nipple with a wet popping sound before you felt his weight shift and he removed himself from you.

“You mentioned something about being whipped.” He teased, and you could hear that his own arousal had made his voice hoarse. Your cunt throbbed in response. “Do you know what a flogger is pretty girl?”

“Yes Captain.” You replied from your position on the bed. Your mouth went dry at the mental image you had of Steve in his black tac suit with a flogger in hand. How would he use it on you? Would it hurt? Be pleasant? The anticipation was eating you up in the best of ways.

“Good girl. We’re gonna do some counting. Since this is your first time we won’t do too many, just ten. But you have to count them pretty girl. If you forget, or lose count, we start over. Do you understand?”

Oh fuck. “Yes Captain.” You heard him chuckle from somewhere above you before you heard the whoosh of the flogger and the sensation on your skin. You gasped as the leather straps came down hard against your left nipple. “One.” The second one came down against your right nipple and you found that your pussy clenched around nothing. “Two.”

Numbers three, four, and five were placed on your nipples and your stomach.

“Halfway there pretty girl, you’re doing so well.” Steve’s voice came from somewhere around you. A thin layer of sweat had broken out over your skin and your arousal was through the roof. You found yourself panting in anticipation of the next strike. It came, the leather striking against your dripping center and you let out a gasp as your back arched off of the silk sheets. “Six”

“Oh you liked that one didn’t you sweetheart?” Steve teased.

“Yes Captain.” You replied breathlessly. Number seven came in the same spot and another lewd sound left your mouth as the flogger found its spot. Numbers eight and nine he placed on the sensitive insides of your thighs.

“Last one pretty girl. You’ve taken it so well I’ll let you decide where this last one goes.”

“Hit my pussy again, please, I want it so bad Captain.” You practically pleaded. Under any other circumstances you would’ve been ashamed at how pathetic you sounded but you didn’t care. Steve Rogers was doing depraved things to you and you couldn’t think straight. You just wanted him to keep doing what he was doing, to take all of you, every tiny nook and cranny of your being until he knew your pleasures like the back of his hand.

“Such a needy girl, maybe after the flogger I’ll give you a reward.” He replied, sounding pleased with you, before he placed the tenth and final flog against your aching core. “God you look so sexy like this, blindfolded and tied to my bed, maybe I should leave you here as my own personal fucktoy, would you like that baby?” He asked as he inserted two fingers into your mouth.

You mumbled your response against the digits, your pussy getting wetter at the thought of him using you like that. You were only half kidding when you had texted your friend about it but now, with your arousal so strong, it sounded more and more enticing. Steve removed his fingers from your mouth and brought them down to your sensitive center, rubbing them up and down your slit before inserting them into your slick heat. You gasped at the intrusion and felt your hips buck up in response to being filled.

Your walls fluttered around his fingers as he began to pump them at a leisurely pace. You felt him make his way down your body to nestle himself between your spread legs and then his hot breath was fanning out over your cunt as his fingers continued to fuck you. “You look so good, pretty girl. Spread open for me like my own personal feast. God you’re so wet. I guess you like to be flogged.” He spoke, the filthy words that left his lips making you wetter than you already were. Without warning he brought his tongue to you and kitten licked your clit, sending a shockwave through your system.

He took your clit in his mouth and sucked as he continued to work you with his fingers. You fruitlessly tugged against your restraints and bucked your hips in an attempt to get the friction you so desperately needed.

“God sweetheart you taste better than I imagined.” Steve commented as his tongue lapped up your juices. “I bet I’ll be able to taste you on my tongue for a week.”

“Fuck, Captain, please can I cum?” You begged, tears wetting the inside of your mask from the intensity of your session.

“Come for me baby, let me feel you come on my fingers.” Steve commanded and that was your undoing. The knot that had been building inside of you was finally released and you came loudy around his fingers. You felt him lick you through the aftershocks.

“Talk to me, pretty girl, how are you feeling?” Steve questioned, voice hot once again by your ear. His suit gently pressing against your overstimulated skin. “Give me a color.” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss to your jawline.

“I’m good Captain, still Green.” You responded, coming down from your orgasm.

“Such a good girl for your Captain. You’re doin’ so well pretty girl.” He said as he left the bed. You weren’t sure where he went until you felt his dexterous fingers undoing the ropes on your left leg. “I’m undoing the leg ropes first. And then I’m going to fuck you senseless like I’ve been wanting to do since I saw those damn text messages.” Your spent cunt clenched around nothing, as you eagerly waited for him to undo the other leg restraint. You could hear him undo the many zippers and clasps on his tac suit until the bed dipped and he was once again between your legs.

This time skin met skin as you felt his upper thighs press between yours as he brought himself closer to you still. You felt the tip of his cock slide between your wet folds before slipping inside. The breath was stolen from your lungs at the feel of him sinking into your waiting cunt. A low moan left your mouth as you felt every perfect inch of him spreading you until he bottomed out and his hips nestled perfectly against your own.

You felt his forehead press against your own. “Fuck you feel perfect, you know that pretty girl? My perfect little pussy.” He breathed against your mouth as he let you adjust to him. He retracted himself from you fully before swiftly filling you up again. Any noise you may have made was swallowed as he kissed you with a hunger you didn’t think was possible. What started as a slow rhythm quickly changed until he was snapping into you with a fervor akin to a madman.

Your hips eagerly met his thrusts and soon your combined pants and skin slapping filled the room. Still blindfolded, you felt the moment his hand wrapped around your neck and squeezed just so. That had your walls flutter around him and your hips stuttered.

“Oh you like that don’t you? You like when I choke you huh pretty girl?” He asked eagerly, his voice husky from moaning.

“Yes, fuck, please Captain, fuck me.” You rasped out. You grunted as he brought his other hand down to press your hips into the mattress before he slammed into you at a relentless pace. Eventually, his hand left your throat to play with your bundle of nerves.

“Come on pretty girl. Come for me.” He ordered and you were only too happy to comply. You came hard around him, enough that you saw stars behind the blindfold and Steve let out a string of curses and praises for you as he pulled out of you and you felt his cum paint your stomach.

You had a moment to catch your breath as you heard Steve pad over to what you assumed was the bathroom. He came back and placed a warm washcloth against your skin, cleaning up the combined mess you both made. Then you felt his hands move up to untie the blindfold around your eyes. You squinted into the low light of the room and were shocked to see Steve bare chested and glistening with sweat before you.

“Hi.” You murmured shyly, finding that some of your confidence had left you along with the blindfold. Seeing him like this, because of you, because of what you had done, somehow cemented this moment in reality. There was no turning back now.

“Hi yourself, how do you feel?” He asked as he undid the ropes around your wrists.

“I um wow, I feel great.” You said and realized it was true. In the afterglow of the scene you felt amazing. Sexy and empowered and utterly spent but undeniably amazing.

“You did great.” Steve assured you as he took lotion into his hands and massaged the areas on your wrists and ankles where the ropes had been. He placed a gentle kiss on each palm when he was done and went to get you a glass of water. “Drink all of this.”

You took the glass from his hands and drank deep. Appreciating the cool feeling of the water as it slid down the column of your throat, you didn’t realize how thirsty you had become. You finished the glass and handed it back to Steve, who placed it on one of his bedside tables.

“Good girl.” He praised and you felt yourself blush in response. He noticed. “Do you like being praised, sweetheart?”

“Yes Captain.” You nodded.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He replied as he helped you into one of his shirts and placed you underneath the covers. He rested beside you and wrapped you in his strong arms. “You did so well today for your first time. It wasn’t too much for you was it?”

“No, I really liked it.” You reassured him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead with a promise to discuss it more after you slept some.

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers fanfic #mcu fanfic #avengers fanfic #reader insert

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lilyofthesword-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Make or Break (Loki Oneshot)

Summary: Loki and the reader are paired up for a mission to sneak into a newly discovered Hydra facility. If they are successful, S.H.I.E.L.D. may promote the reader to allow them on a larger variety of missions.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 6,831

Warnings/Disclaimers: Some cursing, violence, mentions of blood and injury

A/N: I lied on the word count when I posted the excerpt. I touched the text again trying to review for the millionth time.

Masterlist

Leaning back in your seat, you perused the tablet holding the mission information for the fourteenth time. It was supposed to be quick and simple, but it didn’t mean you should be any less prepared. Sneak into the newly discovered HYDRA base, download the data, extract the target and get back to headquarters in one piece. You’re only worry was who S.H.I.E.L.D. paired you with to complete this mission, the god who neglected to attend the briefing. You had worked with Black Widow and Hawkeye before, but that was it. You were a lower-level field agent whose clearance did not allow for you to go on the bigger missions with the other Avengers. No teaming up with super humans, gods or tech wizards for you. Or so you thought.

Your superiors thought it was a great idea for you to tag along with Loki this time. He had been a tentative Avenger for about five years now and was trusted enough to go on solo missions. Even though he could do this mission perfectly well on his own, you knew exactly why you were there. It was a test. You had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. for a few years and were due for a promotion soon, but one you had to prove you were ready for. If everything went well, your ranking would be elevated and you’d be going on the higher priority missions. Loki had unwittingly become the key to success. The rumors were he was notoriously hard to work with, and if a person could successfully complete a mission with him, they were ready to be promoted. However, that rarely happened. Most of the agents Loki had been teamed with wound up either leaving for good or asking for a desk job, regardless of how successful they were.

You lowered the tablet as Loki strode with the grace and confidence of a panther onto the Quinjet. Instead of picking a seat, he came to a halt in front of you. Straining your neck, you kept your gaze up and locked with his. You may have been sitting but the man had no right being so tall. He was absolutely trying to intimidate you, to break you in that moment. You wondered if all the talk about him being difficult were true. Despite both of you working at S.H.I.E.L.D., you had only met in passing. You can’t exactly get a good read on someone’s personality when the only time you see them is at the other end of the hall. The most you two had ever done was a quick nod of acknowledgment before going back to work.

“Agent,” he finally spoke, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Loki,” you nodded like usual.

He took the seat across from you without breaking eye contact. You desperately wanted to return to your tablet. He was turning you into a nervous wreck, but you would not let him know that. Letting your stubbornness win, you kept up the staring contest that could have lasted an eternity. It was only when the Quinjet lifted off that he nodded back, a book appearing with a green shimmer in his hand to steal his attention away from you. Quietly letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you returned to the mission information.

The Quinjet touched down a ways from the HYDRA base in a forest clearing. For the sake of stealth, you had to go on foot for the rest. Reaching the edge of the forest, you and Loki scoped out the area containing what looked like an abandoned building. You knew better though. Your intel suggested there were a handful of basement levels where the HYDRA operatives were working. It also didn’t help that they had tiny, mostly well-concealed cameras around the building. That was the first hurdle.

Crouching in the grass behind the trees, you pulled open one of the pouches on your utility belt for the device you were going to need. Connecting it to the main wiring for the outside cameras would allow you to fake the feed so it would playback only recent footage, preventing their security from seeing you enter. All they could possibly notice is a slight flicker on their screens when the connection was made. With the device in hand and powered up, you looked to Loki. Surely he had seen these before working with the other agents. With a tilt of his head, motioned for you to keep quiet and close. He waved his hands over to two of you, a green mist shrouding you and tingling your face momentarily, and was on the move, stepping out into the clearing.

You tailed Loki as closely as possible without stepping on his heels. He had used some sort of invisibility charm to conceal you both, but you had no idea what kind of distance from him was allowed to keep it working. Reaching the building, you followed Loki around the perimeter until you found the mounted box that acted as the juncture for camera wirings. Running from the bottom of the box into the ground was the main wiring casing. You placed your device on the PVC casing and held it in place as it cut through the tube. When it finished, you pressed the button to lock it in place and waited for it to attach to the right wires, the device flashing green briefly when it finished. Thank the gods for Stark and his technology making things easier.

Locating a side door, Loki opened it a sliver to peer inside before ushering you to slide inside. Once you two were in, he gently pulled the door shut. Unsurprisingly, the area was like an empty warehouse and yet oddly clean. Had the building truly been abandoned, dust and cobwebs would have adorned the tall, industrial shelving and its contents. Slinking through the aisles, you managed to find the elevator with stairs nearby leading to the lower levels. You both silently agreed on the stairs.

Basement floor one was fairly sparse, but still held a few HYDRA agents on patrol. What you needed was probably down a couple of levels for security reasons. It was on the third basement level where things were getting more interesting. There still weren’t many people on this floor, but there was more variety. Men in officer uniforms and lab coats occupied these halls. Loki led the way under the subpar lighting for the next phase. You needed to find a terminal where you could plug in the flash-drive you were assigned and run the program for data extraction.

Spotting one near a large set of imposing doors, you tapped Loki’s arm to point him in the right direction. His reaction was somehow both predictable and surprising. He snapped his head around with an incredulous look on his face like how dare you touch him. Arching an eyebrow, you challenged him and pointed to the terminal console. A touch of tension rippled away from his shoulders as he huffed softly, leading you in the new direction. At the terminal, you inserted the drive and typed in the commands to run the program. As you waited for it to finish, you searched for information on the target’s location. All you had received in briefing and the mission files was the person’s name was Timothy Lawrence. Hopefully, that would be enough to find him in the database.

As you were scanning through anything that could be relevant, you were suddenly snatched away, shoved against the unforgiving metal wall and chest-to-chest with Loki. You were about to protest when you heard footsteps clopping in your direction. Making yourself as small as possible, you flattened yourself against the wall which allowed for Loki to bring himself closer. Although you were still invisible, it was only a visual trick. Sound or touch would shatter the illusion. A scientist and guard rounded the corner, not paying heed to the console, and passed through the doors next to it.

Relaxing slightly when the doors swished shut, you ducked under Loki’s arm to return to the console. You found a list of test subjects, and sifted through the test subject numbers until you stumbled on the one that was close.

Subject: 604

Initials: T.H.L.

Sex: Male

Age: 6

Location: 409

None of the other initials had fully matched the name you were given, so the chances this was the target were slightly more favorable. You closed out your search and the data extraction finished about thirty seconds later. Swiping and tucking the flash drive away safely, you nodded to Loki who immediately headed back to the stairs and brought you down to the fourth basement floor.

While creeping around the lower level to locate the correct room, dread gurgled in your stomach. You had heard of HYDRA’s child experiments, but actually being in its presence was entirely different. The kid was only six. What the hell were they doing to him and why? And did S.H.I.E.L.D. know how old the target was and not divulge that information to you? Wouldn’t that be important? You had to shake your head to bring yourself out of your self-made rabbit hole. Those questions could be answered later. You needed to focus on finding the kid and getting him out.

Loki stopped suddenly, you almost running into him. He gave you a pointed look and rolled his eyes. You had reached your destination. You pressed the button to the side of the door, allowing it to slide open. The room was filled with computers, some life monitoring systems. Those were alongside a table where an unconscious, small boy was strapped down. Loki closed the door and with a snap of his fingers, cancelled the invisibility charm as you made your way to check on the kid. His little eyes shot open upon hearing Loki, pupils dilating with fear and panic.

“Shhh... It’s alright,” you cooed softly, holding your palms out in front of you. “We’re getting you out of here.”

The little boy stilled, confusion transitioning to tentative understanding. That was until he saw Loki. A strangled squeak barely breached his throat. He struggled against his restraints, looking like he wanted to phase through the table to get away. You turned to Loki who held his hands up and backed away, the hurt clearly evident on his face.

“Hey, look at me.” You reached for the boy slowly, but his eyes were still focused on Loki. You cupped his face between your hands. “He’s with me.”

His eyes darted back to you, still scared out of his mind.

“Timothy, right?”

He nodded with tears threatening to soak his face.

“He’s working with the Avengers now. He’s here to help.” You brushed his matted hair away from his sweat slicked forehead. “We are getting you out of here. You’ll be safe, okay?”

He nodded again with a sniffle. You looked back at Loki and waved him over. Making himself as non threatening as he could manage, he stepped to the other side of the table. You two worked on undoing the padded restraints. Once free, you helped Timothy sit up, his arms shaking like a leaf in the wind. How long had he been kept like this? He could barely support the upper half of his body. If if arms were this bad, you didn’t even want to know how badly his legs atrophied.

“Here.” You spun around so your back was facing the table. “I’ll carry you.”

Loki strode over to help Timothy drape his arms over your shoulders and kept him in position as you hooked your arms under his legs to hold him up. Ready to be back on the move, Loki placed his invisibility charm over the three of you. He led you back through the compound only stopping to keep you all from running into HYDRA agents. It wasn’t until you had reached the stairs on the third floor when the alarms went off. You and Loki looked at each other momentarily before booking it. Between the sirens and pounding feet, it’s not like you needed to worry about being quiet anymore.

Dodging various agents sprinting up and down the stairs, you made it to the ground floor which was now filled with armed guards to prevent your escape. Thankfully, they still could not see you, but you needed to get past them to reach any of the doors. Loki pulled you to the side behind some shelving, cloning himself in the process. His now visible clone teleported near the guards who proceeded to fire at it. The distraction allowed you to sneak back out the side door, but the door slamming shut did not go unnoticed. You were almost into the forest when the agents funneled out of the building, showering you with bullets.

With the illusion broken, Loki slowed to place himself in between you and the agents, raising a barrier to stop the bullets. Timothy clung to your suit as tightly as his little hands could, his whimpers barely audible over the gunfire and shouting. The Quinjet was just becoming visible through the trees and brush.

Stumbling once or twice, you glanced back to try to catch his attention. “We’re almost there, Buddy,” you huffed. “Just keep holding on.”

He nodded as he shoved his face in your shoulder. The ramp to the Quinjet lowered as you reached the clearing. Not waiting for it to lock in place, you hopped onto the ledge with Loki hot on your heels. While you settled Timothy into a seat, Loki closed the ramp and informed the pilot to lift off. The cacophony of bullets pinging the jet like clanging pots and pans grew quieter as you took off for home.

You let out a sigh of relief and slumped in your seat, an arm wrapped around Timothy who had curled into your side. The older sibling in you, a roll that had been ripped from you all too early in life, took over as you gingerly carding your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep. Being so focused on the kid, you almost missed Loki giving you an appraising look. He was standing near the cockpit, watching you two curiously. With a sudden furrow of his brow, he strode over and knelt next to you.

“You’re injured,” he stated before you could get a word out about his strange behavior.

“What’re you talking about?” You looked down to find a small trail of blood originating from your left calf. That was when you finally felt it. The adrenaline-fueled chase must have fogged up your brain enough for you to not notice you had been shot.

Loki lifted your leg to get a better look, you hissing in pain as he did. You did your best not to squirm so you wouldn’t wake Timothy from his well-deserved rest. Your free hand gripped the edge of the seat. Had you not been wearing gloves, Loki would have seen your knuckles turn white.

Materializing one of his knives, he carefully cut and removed the offending pants leg that blocked his attempt to tend to your wound. “I will need to remove the bullet,” he said, returning to his feet to grab the first-aid supplies.

Grimacing at the thought, you shook your head. “Let’s just throw some antiseptic on it and wrap it. The bullet can wait until we get back.”

“Tch. Stubborn mortal,” he scoffed. “It will only be worse for you if we do that.”

He returned to your side with the supplies. He paused to look up at you and then Timothy. Placing a glowing green palm on the boy’s forehead, he muttered something in an unrecognizable language.

“There. Now he won’t be disturbed for the next few hours.”

Without giving you a chance to protest further, he cleaned your wound before starting on the bullet. Luckily, for both of you, it was not too deep. You still tore off a glove to bite down on in an attempt to not focus on the pain, but it could have been worse. Loki was surprisingly gentle throughout the whole ordeal. Although, you couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t just use his magic. Had he exhausted his abilities having used them for most of the mission?

A light squeeze to your knee brought you back to reality. Loki had finished wrapping your leg and proceeded to sit himself on the other side of Timothy. You tried to stay awake to keep an eye on the peaceful boy in case he woke up. After several times of you catching Loki watching you and Timothy, you gave up and allowed sleep to overtake you.

Timothy stirred when the Quinjet touched down, your arm still around his tiny frame. Moving to stand and prepare to leave, you felt his fingers dig into your suit, not ready to part from you just yet. Instead, you pulled him into your lap and stood to carry him out, ignoring the leg that caused a slight limp in your gait. As if on cue, his limbs wrapped around you like a spider monkey. Meeting you as you exited the jet was a medical team. A nurse swept in to take Timothy with them to the med bay, but Loki placed himself in front of you. The nurse stepped back fearfully bumping into one of her teammates. The crew looked at a loss of what to do until Agent Hill stepped through the doors.

Sighing, she motioned you inside. “Let’s get him to the medical wing.”

What an odd locomotive you all made moving down the halls. Hill was in lead with you following directly behind her. Loki stayed close to you, a hand ghosting your back between your shoulder blades. The medics were in last as they tried to keep up without getting too close to Loki. Timothy shifted in your arms like he was trying to get more comfortable. Rubbing his back, you pressed forward. What you weren’t able to see was that he kept peering up at Loki with the smallest, shyest possible smile.

Finally reaching the room the medical team was going to perform a checkup on the kid, you set him down on the bed, but he still wasn’t ready to let go. You were able to pull away just enough to see his face. He didn’t seem quite as scared but it was clear he was not fond of the medics. While some wore scrubs, the rest had lab coats that were too similar to the HYDRA scientists.

“They aren’t here to hurt you,” you smiled softly. “They just want to make sure you’re not hurt or sick, okay?”

He released his grip on you and folded his hands in his lap, allowing you to take a step back.

“Would you feel better if we stayed in the room?”

Looking between you and Loki who was currently behind you, he nodded vigorously. You smiled back and moved to lean against the far wall, close enough to see you but not enough to crowd the medics. Loki looked thoughtfully at Timothy who stared back at him with hopeful eyes before joining you.

A couple weeks later, you were at your station, rummaging through emails. You found one about Timmy, as he preferred to be called, being transferred at the end of the month to another facility where other children rescued from HYDRA were residing. At least he would be with kids his own age. Through the tests the medical team had run, it turns out Timmy was enhanced. HYDRA had taken him and his family, but left only him alive when they learned the rest of his family held no mutations. S.H.I.E.L.D. would not divulge to you what his abilities were, but considering how quickly he bonded with you and Loki, you were at least allowed to contact and visit him every so often, something you planned to work into your schedule.

You closed out your emails upon hearing approaching footsteps. Agent Hill was speed walking towards you with a folder in hand.

“Good morning, Agent,” she greeted you with an infectious smirk, holding the folder out to you.

“Good morning, Agent Hill.” You took the folder and checked the paperwork inside. Holding back a squeal, you hugged the folder to your chest. “Really?!”

“Congratulations!”

You bit your lip to contain your excitement. “I wasn’t really expecting this, especially so soon.”

“Well, I shouldn’t be telling you this but...” She sidled up next to you, lowering her voice. “I did read Loki’s report. The partner review section is usually filled with snarky comments and insults. Your’s was different. It was glowing compared to past reports.”

You tilted your head at her in confusion. There was plenty for him to complain about. You were not perfect. Your skills as a field agent were slightly above average, nothing to write home about. There was a lot you could do better.

“There was only one word.”

Arching an eyebrow, you nodded for her to continue.

“Tolerable.”

That was a glowing review?! You had to stop yourself from laughing. You really did not want to know what he wrote about the others.

After the mini-gossip session, Agent Hill left you to continue her other tasks. With a slight bounce in your step, you headed to the break room for some coffee. You were later than usual, but everyone on this floor was usually pretty good about making sure the coffee pot was never left empty. Opening an overhead cupboard, you groaned to yourself. All the mugs were on the higher shelving. Where were the ones that were normally lower? You weren’t sure you could reach even if you stood on your toes, but damned if you weren’t going to try anyways.

“Having trouble, Agent?” a low voice queried from behind startling you.

About to lose your balance, you tried to put yourself back fully on your feet but overcompensated and fell backwards instead. A pair of hands grabbed your shoulders, preventing you from hitting the ground. You righted yourself and spun on your heel to face the trickster.

“Thanks, Loki...”

“You’re quite welcome, Agent.” The way he emphasized “agent” made you nervous. You weren’t sure if it was in a good or bad way.

He reached past you into the cupboard. Grabbing a couple of mugs, he offered you one with a sly smile. “Is this what you needed?”

Of course he could reach with no problems. You cleared your throat as you took one from him. “Y-yes. Thank you.”

Turning back around to face the counter, you started to pour coffee into your mug. Loki slid in next to you and turned on the electric kettle. You caught him watching you from your peripheral vision as you moved to the fridge for creamer. Having added just the right amount, you leaned your back on the counter. You take a sip, the mug a barrier to hide part of your face.

“So... What brings you here?”

He motioned to the tea bag he had pulled from the container on the counter.

You rolled your eyes. “Is that all?” This floor wasn’t even the normal floor he visited. What was he up to?

“Yes, Little Agent,” he smirked. “This break room is much quieter than the one normally inhabited by the beloved Avengers.”

Snickering, you took another sip. “Right, right.”

Knowing he had been caught, he shifted his focus on the water just starting to boil.

You pushed yourself away from the counter. “Well, I need to get back to work. See you around?”

“Indeed, Agent.”

Timmy flew into your arms as you knelt near the ramp of the Quinjet. “You’re going to come visit, right?”

“Promise,” you reassured him with a grin. How this kid managed to bounce back so quickly was beyond you, but seeing him this happy brought a spark of warmth to your chest. This was one of the reasons you joined S.H.I.E.L.D.

He let go and peered around you sheepishly. “Mr. Loki?”

Looking over your shoulder, the mischievous god was leaning back near the door preferring to watch from a distance. He ducked his head to hide the light smile on his face. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Turning away so Loki couldn’t see, you smiled at their interaction. Who knew Loki could be a softie.

An agent appeared at the top of the ramp, ready to bring Timmy onboard.

“Be good for them, okay?” You ruffled his hair and stood up.

He nodded and hugged you one more time before running off to the agent. He turned back before the ramp closed, giving you and Loki a wave goodbye. With the Quinjet taking off, you spun on your heel and made your way to the door.

“You are much too kind.”

You hand paused on the door handle. “I’m sorry?”

Loki faced you, a scrutinizing look in his eyes. “You are too kind for this line of work.”

“I can handle it, Loki. I have my reasons for being here,” you scoffed, arms folded across your chest.

“I never said it was a bad thing.” He smirked at you and opened the door for you to enter first. “It’s rather refreshing.”

This god really knew how to flip an emotional switch. You just shook your head and proceeded inside, deciding it was better to not stand around argue with him. There was a new mission briefing for the two of you to attend, and you were not about to let him make you late.

Fury kept pairing you and Loki for missions. Sometimes another field agent or Avenger would tag along for support, but for the most part it was just you two. Most of the missions involved as much stealth as possible, but combat was inevitable in some cases. Loki might as well have glued himself to you during those moments. He never left you when a fight broke out, going so far as to stand between you and the shots fired in your direction. Guess he found a little more than “tolerable”.

Even outside of the missions you wound up spending time together. With the promotion, your work station had been moved to the same floor as the Avengers which meant you also shared the break room and training facilities. While Loki never showed up at your workstation, he did “happen” to come across you everywhere else, usually sticking to the background when others were around.

“You know, Loki, stalking someone generally involves the stalker not being in plain sight,” you teased, using a towel to wipe the sweat from your face. Training with Nat, as she nearly demanded you to call her, was intense but absolutely worth it. You attributed the recent mission successes to her as you may not have survived with out her guidance.

“Tch. I would not consider it ‘stalking,’ merely watching your back,” he scowled, clearly not amused.

“Calm down, Mischief. I’m only joking,” you grinned, nudging past him out the door. “But seriously, you don’t need to constantly ‘watch my back’. We’re at S.H.I.E.L.D., not on a mission.”

Following you, he taunted, “Then, I suppose you would prefer to be left alone. I see how it is.” He feigned being hurt by your words.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” you deadpanned.

His pace quickened until he spun in front of you, forcing you to a halt. “Then, my little agent, what do you mean?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him in a moment of silence. For whatever reason, he had taken to calling you that a few months ago. You were oddly okay with it, possibly even liked it though you were not ready to admit that just yet.

“What I mean is...” You took a step closer, now mere inches away, heart thundering in your chest. “You are allowed to talk to me when there are other people nearby.”

He leaned in, pushing how far this little standoff was going to go. “So I have your permission now? Thank you so much.”

“You never needed it.” Gods, you were so close now. You could have just gotten it over with and kissed him, but the thought of his reaction stopped you. Loki could be so hard to read. You couldn’t take anything at face value. It would not surprise you if he were messing with you now. But you could always try to catch him off guard...

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” you smirked and stepped around him. “I would like to get cleaned up for my date tonight.”

With that, you darted into the locker room, leaving the trickster frozen in the hall, mouth agape.

“He does like you,” Timmy said sporadically yet nonchalantly as he kicked the ball to you.

“‘He’ who?” You kicked the ball in the air towards him.

“Mr. Loki.”

You rolled your eyes at his “no duh” tone. “Maybe as a coworker.”

“Nooo!” He bounced the ball off his head, letting it then hit the ground to be forgotten. “I mean ‘like like’.”

You were about to scoff but thought back to earlier in the day. Loki’s reaction to your comment could lead someone to believe that, but that certainly was not enough proof. And, no. You were not on an actual date, but a date is a kind of planned event, and you had planned to visit Timmy. Loki would probably see through your partial lie eventually, but you at least had him in that moment.

“Now what makes you say that?”

“He always talks about you when he’s here.”

So Mischief does visit him... Imagining Loki running around this playground with Timmy was kind of cute.

“I’ll bet it’s nothing good,” you joked.

Timmy shook his head, not understanding your jest. “It’s how nice you are. He said that you’re one of the only people here who isn’t mean to him.”

Well, that was kind of true. Just because he had been with the Avengers for so long did not mean everyone was going to be friendly with him. New York was a factor but his current demeanor towards “Midgardians” was enough to turn most people away.

“That doesn’t mean he... ‘like like’s me,” you grimaced. Speaking like this made you feel like you were in high school again.

“But he told me-” He clapped his hands over his mouth.

“Told you what?”

He shook his head, his hair slinging wildly.

“Timmy...” you warned.

“But I promised him I wouldn’t tell,” he admitted through his hands.

Knowing how important promises can be for children, you sighed, “Okay, okay. I won’t push it anymore.”

Relief flooded his tiny face as he relaxed. Looking up at the pinks and oranges seeping into the sky like paint with too much water, you pouted. “Alright, Buddy. Looks like we need to head inside.”

Timmy mirrored your pout, but ran to you and clutched your hand as you led him into the building.

Well, this was going to be a boring mission. You were going solo this time. Loki was with his brother off-world, so that meant you had no one but the pilot to chat with. Admittedly, Loki was quite the conversationalist when he wanted to be. It kept the trips to and from locations from growing stagnant, something you very much appreciated. Plus, you just liked hearing his alluring voice, even when he teased you just to see how flustered you would get. You were a little surprised with how much you missed him being around.

At least this was supposed to be quick. The newly-found HYDRA facility was about three hours away. Get in. Snag data. Go home. Intel showed it was small without many people there. Should be easy enough. But... Nothing is ever goes as smoothly as it should.

Glancing out the window as the Quinjet was landing, you noticed how close you were to the facility. In fact, you were a lot closer than you should have been.

“Sir?” You left your seat to confront the pilot. “What’s this about? This is a stealth mission. You’re going to give away-”

You had to jump back to avoid a punch. The pilot had left the controls to take care of you, gun in hand. Is this guy serious right now?! There was no way you were going to give this guy a chance to shoot you. You ducked low, charging him and rammed yourself at his stomach, elbow aimed for his solar plexus. With the wind knocked out of him, he stumbled backwards, grasping at anything that would keep him upright. Taking the opening, you used a seat near you as leverage to jump high enough to wrap your legs around his neck, using the momentum and gravity to swing yourself around to slam him into the ground (a nice little trick Nat so graciously taught you). The force to the metal flooring was enough to leave him unconscious.

Scrambling up, you formulated a quick plan in your head: Take off, secure this asshole and comm headquarters. You made the executive decision to end the mission early. If this guy was a double agent, then whoever was in the facility knew you were coming. You were making your way to the cockpit when you felt something sharp pierce your neck. Immediately, you yanked out what you found to be a dart, spinning around to see where it came from. At some point in your fight, the Quinjet had touched down and the ramp lowered. With your vision growing alarmingly blurry, you could barely make out the armed guards before everything faded black.

Your head was throbbing when you opened your eyes again. The room was dark with a cold, uninviting floor and thick metal bars in front. You tried to sit up, hoping the small change would alleviate your headache but failed. Your captors had secured your hands behind your back, rather tightly to be honest. The restraints were harshly cutting into your wrists while making it as awkward as possible to do anything from your position. Trying again, the muscles in your side seized up and your ribs screamed in agony, a groan falling from your throat.

“Oh look, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent is awake.”

You flinched not having heard the footsteps leading to your cell. You kept your head on the concrete floor as you looked up at the dark figure leaning on the opposite side of the bars.

“Now,” he started as he unlocked the door and let himself in. “I am going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer them.” He nudged you with his foot. “Understand?”

Clenching your jaw, you pointedly looked away from him. Like hell. He just chuckled. The gritty sound reverberated off the walls.

“How cute. Your stubbornness won’t last long here.” The man began circling you slowly. “I know you are one of the agents who stole Subject 604.”

“You mean one of the agents who rescued a boy named Timmy,” you spat, earning you a hard blow to your back.

Hissing through your teeth, you rolled onto your stomach to relieve the pain of your bruising backside, but a foot pulled you back onto your side.

“Quite rude of you to interrupt,” he growled, moving to stand in front of you. “Now, all I want to know is where you have taken my test subject.”

“Hah,” you barked. “Like I’ll help some monster running experiments on children.”

A kick to your ribs and you curled in on yourself, coughing up the blood trying to take refuge in your lungs. He ripped you from the floor by your hair when a deafening alarm suddenly blared in the facility.

“You want a monster? Then, a monster you will have,” his hissed in your face before throwing you back down and leaving you in your cell to rot. You knew he’d be back later to finish what he started.

Biting back a pained moan, you pushed your head into the concrete floor, but the cold did little to soothe your pain. The alarm made sure of that, the tone causing your ears to faintly ring. You scooted yourself backwards against the wall and used it to help sit yourself upright. With that little bit of success, you rewarded yourself by closing your eyes and leaning against the wall. Now maybe you could think a little better so you could figure out a plan to get the hell out of there.

A low, familiar voice called your name, startling you to open your eyes. Had you blacked out again?

“By the Norns, you’re are alive,” a second booming voiced sounded off.

Maybe you were hallucinating. They weren’t supposed to be here. “Wha- Loki? Thor?”

Loki picked the lock open with his seiðr and rushed to you to release your bonds. “Let us leave this place, my little agent.” He spoke just loud enough for you to hear him over the alarms that were still roaring.

Gingerly scooping you into his arms, he strode back to Thor who was holding back the HYDRA agents who found you all there. He looked back at you and Loki over his shoulder. “Let’s go!” He threw his hammer down the hall, hitting the agents and forming a path.

Between Thor’s hammer and Loki’s seiðr, it didn’t take long for you all to convene with Captain America and Nat and make it to their Quinjet. The one you had taken for your mission was probably long gone. With everyone onboard, the pilot took off and navigated for headquarters.

Loki sat you down in a seat, giving you a once over to see where you were hurt with Nat giving her input. You probably had a concussion, cracked ribs and definitely a plethora of bruises. The best they could do at the moment was keep you comfortable without agitating the damage.

In one swift move, Loki picked you back up and placed you in his lap as he sat, holding you to his chest. Leaning into the embrace, you nuzzled up to him, too tired to notice the knowing looks earned from the rest of the team.

“I thought you were off-world,” you struggled to say, your voice barely breaking a whisper. Exhaustion was creeping up your limbs.

He rested a cheek on top of your head. “We were. We came back as soon as we learned you were missing. I thought I had lost you.”

Your mind grew foggy, slurring your words. “Nope... Not gettin’ rid of me so eas’ly...”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now sleep, my little agent.”

Traipsing through the jungle gym, you followed Timmy who was making his way to the monkey bars. He boldly hopped off the platform and latched onto one of the bars. As he swung himself forward, catching the next bar, you reached out for the closest one.

“Should you really be doing that, Dove?”

Loki was suddenly on the ground next to you.

“What? It’s just monkey bars.”

“You’ve only been out of the Med Bay for a week,” he deadpanned.

Huffing, you sat down on the platform, knowing you would not win this argument. “Fine. But you’re helping me down.”

He was already in front of you, ready to pull you into his arms. “With pleasure,” he smirked with a playful glint in his eyes.

You slid into his embrace and wrapped your arms around his neck. He just held you like that, staring into your eyes. You smiled and pressed your forehead to his. Although he thought it was cute, Loki had a better idea. He tilted his head and captured your lips instead which you all too willingly encouraged.

“Come on, you guys! It’s gonna get dark soon,” Timmy yelled to you, wanting you to follow him to the next jungle gym section.

With the moment shattered, Loki set you down and placed a chaste kiss to your forehead. You intertwined your fingers with his, pulling him along in Timmy’s direction. Both of you walked alongside the jungle gym and watched the ecstatic boy as he navigated the various obstacles.

“You know,” you began teasingly, leaning on Loki who hummed in response. “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for rescuing me.”

“No... No, I don’t think you did,” he smirked mischievously.

You squeezed the hand you were holding. “What can I do to show my appreciation for your valiant efforts?”

“Hmm...” He looked at you with mock contemplation. “How about... You, my little agent, join me for dinner tonight?”

You nodded in agreement. “I’d love that.”

#loki x reader #loki marvel #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x you #marvel #marvel avengers #the avengers #s.h.i.e.l.d.#loki imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki friggason #loki oneshot

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freakova · 1 year ago

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Jokes aside I wanna say something about security breach real quick— slight rant, FNAF spoilers //

If the Ruin plot twist relies on the TotP books then I’ll be real honest…that’s kinda bad (or at least not great) story telling. It really bugs me that so many people (especially those that complained about security breach’s story) are praising the story now because the books introduce a new antagonist and in order to understand the games plot, you need to have read the books.

People complained about the BWW novel having more vital lore than the game and I completely agree square enix screwed that up and other franchises do NOT rely on books to tell a main story but rather side details…so why is it okay when fnaf does something similar? Video games will often have books/comics to expand on a story but you don’t need to read them to understand the main event. They’re meant to be for people that want MORE lore, not the main lore.

“Oh but Caroline they have been hinting towards the mimic since HW” Bestie it took a set of books for people to go “eureka! It makes sense now!” And only after people said they were bringing Afton back which is wrong. Whether if was intended or not, it’s still weird and doesn’t get explained in the main storyline. If you need to read a book to understand the main story that isn’t books (because it’s video games) but idk man, that’s kinda not great.

Is the mimic a cool concept and a great idea for a baddie? Sure, absolutely and I’d love to know more about them but I’m not reading a bunch of novels you buy in the kids sections in WH Smith’s to get that info…….

Also “ooo ahhh the mimic is actually a teenage girls corpse!!!” Shut up you fucking weirdo

Anyway at the end of the day…I still LOVE security breach and can’t wait for Ruin but please oh please don’t pull a “Here’s the story! Don’t get it? Buy the books and read!!” Cause if that happens I’d rather they just kept it a stupid messy story

Happy July where is Ruin

#Freakova speaks #lemmie rant #I own the first book and I’ll be honest. Zzzzz mimimimimimimi #cannot be bothered to finish it #Maybe I’ll give it another go cause I WANT to like them but we’ll see…#maybe I should read before sleeping

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 2 years ago

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Looking back at fnaf series, I miss when purple guy was unnervingly mysterious maniac in the early titles, the one in recent titles feels lame to me, What's your opinion about him?

Ironically, my feelings about Purple guy are tied to my feelings about FNAF's entire story line. Like the thing about FNAF lore was that a lot of the mystique came from simplicity:

FNAF 1: You are working in a pizzeria that contains animatronics who are haunted by the souls of murdered children. They are trying to kill you. 10/10, very spooky with sympathetic villians.

FNAF 2: You are working in a different pizzeria that contains haunted animatronics AND animatronics who are programmed to keep kids safe from registered criminals. All of them are trying to kill you. *And* you learn about the purple guy who killed kids and stuffed them in animatronic suits. 9/10. Pizzeria is very cluttered with murder robots and timeline lore, but I like the way it showed us the purple guy.

FNAF 3: You are working in a haunted pizzeria attraction that capitalizes off of the children's deaths, the only animatronic trying to kill you is the guy who killed the children. Depending on what you do, you can set the souls of the kids free before the place burns down. 10/10, excellent series ending point right here; The murders were established, the murderer was established, and the murderer was dealt with. Purple guy has done a great job at being a mysterious antagonist. He can retire in hell now.

FNAF 4: A traumatized child has nightmares about the pizzeria mascots. 9/10. I can see why it exists, but I think that this should have been the second installment of the series instead of the forth one.

They lost me at Sister Location because I have no idea what is going on as I did not read the books, nor do I think that it is appropriate for an indie game series to require reading books in order to understand what the hell is going on inside the games.

FNAF world is a spinoff that may or may not be Purple guy's hell and I respect it as such.

They did not get me back at Pizzeria simulator.

They did not get me back at Help Wanted.

Ultimate Custom Night: All of the animatronics can be fiddled with to attack you. No rating. Might be Purple guy's personal hell (or his personal hell 2.0).

Security Breach: You are a child relying on a not murderous animatronic to protect you from several murderous robots and a serial killer in a rabbit suit. 7/10. Purple guy was not needed as a villain, how they handled Vanessa/Vanny was icky on an ablest level. Either make them different characters or make 'Vanessa' Vanny's attempt to trick Gregory into trusting her.

A story does not need to be complex to be good, a villain does not need to be complex to be good. You can just have a guy who says "Fuck kids" and then proceeds to murder them, stuff them into animatronic suits, and then die in the suit he lured kids to their murder spots in. A few years after the initial murderer's death you can have someone read about his crimes and say "Hell yeah! Fuck kids" and then *also* murder kids and stuff them into suits. It does not need to be deep.

#five nights at freddys

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secretshinigami · 3 years ago

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All Noble Things

Author: @kiranatrix For: @resilicns Pairings/Characters: Near and Gevanni Rating/Warnings: Gen, no warnings Prompt: Near reflecting on his relationship with Wammy’s and L’s reputation Author’s notes: In How to Read, it says that Gevanni’s hobby is building ships in a bottle. So I imagined a scene where Near is observing Gevanni, now in the role of Watari, building a special ship. The time period is flexible but I imagined it after the C-Kira case and before the case with Minoru. This is a loose interpretation of your prompt but I hope you enjoy it!

—

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Gevanni.” Near didn’t look up as he carefully laid out another domino on the floor, perfectly spaced from its neighbor and approximately two centimeters from chaos. Pinched fingers pulled back carefully and twisted around a strand of white hair. “Two things, really.”

Gevanni looked up from his workbench as the long but comfortable silence between them was broken. Since Roger had died and he’d taken on the role of Watari, he was usually the question-asker. Would you like lunch now? Have you heard back about this or that piece of evidence? Did you have another nightmare last night?

He’d gotten used to it, to Near. To being the bedrock that an island could rest upon. “Two questions?”

No, he was more of a species imported to Near’s world and being gradually altered by the isolation, evolving to fill his niche. But he had no complaints–it was a quiet, stable life and Near paid him well. He didn’t mind the solitude. “You’re exceeding your daily allotment. I’ll have to demand a raise if this keeps up.”

“I believe I gave you a raise just three months ago. If these demands keep up, I’ll have to find another Watari.” Near deadpanned it but his eyes flicked up briefly, and Rester knew he was joking. Another domino clinked against the terrazzo floors, this one with hand-carved scrimshaw detailing a breaching whale.

Gevanni snorted and turned back to the ship in a bottle he was working on. “Good luck finding someone else to source those pajamas with the specific blend of Pima cotton you prefer. I’ve kept that a secret. Iron-clad job security.” He grinned as he carefully reached a long wire into the bottle to pat down blue and white putty mimicking ocean waves. “So, what’s question number one?”

“Can you tie back my hair? It keeps getting in the way.” Near flicked a long strand over his shoulder but it fell again, dangling dangerously close to his creation. “Mind the–”

“Dominos? Yeah, I’m practically a ninja at this point.” Gevanni pushed his loupe glasses to the top of his head before carefully making his way over spiraling lines of set-up dominos to Near at the center. He knelt and pulled a hair-tie from his pocket, holding it between his teeth as he gathered up all the silvery strands. “Holf spill,” he murmured around the band. Near was stone-still as he made a quick and slightly messy ponytail, leaving some loose hair around the face for twirling. “Better?”

“Much. Thank you.” Near very briefly made eye contact as Gevanni went back to his workbench before looking back to his pile of dominos. He sorted through them for another scrimshaw piece. Gevanni had made a special set for him on his last birthday but he always saved them for the end.

“Mmhm.” Gevanni slid back into his chair and picked up the little ship, a model of a 19th-century whaler. “So what was the second question?”

“I was curious what you were working on.” Near let a domino tumble across his knuckles, back and forth, back and forth. “You’ve never spent that much time on just one ship before.” He caught the domino with his thumb and placed it next in line.

“Oh, so you noticed?” Gevanni held up the little whaler on his palm, clearly proud of the highly detailed craftsmanship. All the masts were down and tied with an array of strings that could be pulled up once it was in the bottle to raise them. “I guess this one’s special since it doesn’t really exist. Thought I’d challenge myself. It’s…well, it’s how I imagine the Pequod to look, the whaling ship in–“

“Moby Dick?” Near stared at the miniature vessel, head slightly cocked as he smoothed a loose strand of hair. “The ship Captain Ahab used to chase his white whale.”

Gevanni smiled. “That’s right. It’s one of my favorite books. Have you read it?”

“Years ago. I remember not liking it very much. The whale killed him in the end.” Near placed the last couple of dominos and let out a long sigh. The moments before flicking the first piece were the ones he both cherished and dreaded. The satisfaction of creation could be drawn out like a monotone note, but when it was finished, the spectacular destruction was often over too soon. So, he hesitated and stood up instead, padding to Gevanni’s workbench to watch more creation.

“I bet you’d like the book more these days. Single-minded obsession to defeat a power past human control? Throwing all caution and sense of self-preservation to the wind? The thrill of the chase?” Gevanni arched a brow. “Can’t tell me that doesn’t sound familiar.”

Near frowned slightly and hunched in on himself. “I suppose you mean L. Or do you characterize me as so foolish?”

“You’re L now.” Gevanni disliked that he had to remind Near of that even now, years after the first L had died. “But yes, it reminds me of what Matsuda told us about your predecessor’s obsession with Kira. I never met the first L, but maybe I can understand him, in a way.” He quoted Melville, "All my means are sane, my motive and my object mad.’ You’re L but you’re not him, and I’m glad for it.”

Near wasn’t sure if he was glad for it or not. So many times over the years he’d compared himself to that avatar and wondered if he could measure up. Drily, “I guess that makes me Ishmael."

"You survived, didn’t you? Lived to tell the tale and learn what he couldn’t."

Gevanni turned back to the little ship, carefully threading another string through the rear-most mast. He worked quietly for a while, cognizant of Near’s focused attention and feeling sorry for bringing up the Kira case. It wasn’t often that Near took such an interest in his own projects, or perhaps the man was merely thinking about what he’d said. “Sit down, if you want to. I’m about to get to the exciting part.”

Near pulled a chair closer and slinked into it, one leg pulled tight to his chest and the other dangling off the end. “Which is the exciting part? Stuffing it into the bottle?”

“That’s part of it. The thrilling part for me is raising the masts and sails inside the bottle.” Gevanni pointed to the flat masts and the multiple lines of string leading from them. “If anything goes wrong or a string gets tangled…or some bit of glue doesn’t hold, well–”

“You’re screwed.” Near smiled faintly and rested his chin on his knee. “Hours of planning for one moment of glory. Or disaster.” It also sounded familiar, so familiar.

“Exactly.” Gevanni chuckled and looked over at Near, pleased to see that small, rare smile. That in itself was the product of so much patience, of hours spent in understanding and the slow building of confidence and trust. “Once I get the ship in, would you like to raise the sails?”

Near’s eyes widened and he rocked slightly in the chair. That was Gevanni’s moment of glory and he deserved it after so much time and hard work. The inlaid wood, the meticulous paint, the delicately carved and articulated ship’s wheel capped in brass. The hand-sewn sails and gold script that read Pequod on the ship’s side. Each detail was evidence that someone else had built this and he would only be stealing the best part, swooping in for the end of the trick.

“You built it so you should do it.” It didn’t help that he was worried about making a mistake and ruining it at the last moment. How would it even fit? Despite the masts lying flat, it seemed impossible that the ship would make it inside the bottle. “I don’t know how.”

Gevanni sensed Near’s hesitation and uncertainty, recognizing the subtle tics of anxiety. “I can show you. You’re great at stuff like this.” He motioned to the vast lines and towers of dominos filling the room. “Plus, I trust you.”

When Near didn’t answer, he turned back to the ship, placing a small line of glue at the bottom and oh-so-carefully maneuvering it into the narrow mouth of the glass bottle and onto the ‘waves’ of translucent blue putty. It was a very tight fit and when it stuck down in the right position, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Not bad, huh?” The strings dangled from the bottle’s mouth as he held it up to show Near. “Offer still stands.”

Near wanted to do it, to try. Honestly, he wanted to ask Gevanni to show him how to build one of his own, how to trump the rigid enclosure and build something impossible inside. To raise it up not by magic but by human ingenuity and patience. A creation not to destroy but to keep.

“Alright.” His fingers moved from his hair to tentatively touch the white strings hanging from the bottle’s mouth. “All of them?”

“Just these.” Gevanni pointed out several lines connected to the three masts. “Don’t yank, just pull slowly until you feel resistance and I’ll tape them up.”

“If it works.”

Gevanni laughed quietly. “It’ll work. Stop stalling.”

Near mumbled, “I’m not stalling,” but stalled a moment more before gently tugging the strings. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat when all three masts raised in unison, perfectly aligned and straight. He smiled as Gevanni secured the strings, then slid off the chair to gaze at the bottle from the side. This floating world, this impossible thing that’s bottled the sea. “I can see why you like these so much.”

“It passes the time.” Gevanni felt warm inside since it was rare that they connected like this, despite all the time spent in each other’s company. He glued the strings to the ship with a long wire and then cut them, leaving no trace of how it had really been made. Setting it on the bench to dry, he said, “Would you like to have it? I have about a dozen. I mean, if you want it.”

“As a warning against white whales?” Near smirked and climbed back into the chair. He fingered the hem of his specially-ordered Pima cotton pajamas, the exact blend he preferred. “Or for the memory of Ahab?”

“Neither? Or…maybe both.” Gevanni knew that so much had changed for Near when Kira died. Monster or not, that moment of destruction had ultimately felt unsatisfying. He knew Near struggled with assuming the name and reputation of L, a legacy that had become so confused in the mind of a world that would never know two L’s had died and a third now had to make peace with that. It was easier to bottle ships than emotions.

Mildly, “Or maybe just because it’s something we built together.” It was odd, but somehow it would mean a lot to him for Near to have it. “How about it?”

Near found a loose string at the hem of his pants and yanked it, snapping the thread. He got up and crouched beside the winding, spiraling rows of dominos and pressed a slender finger against the first one. That catalyst set off the reaction, the staccato clack clack clack! that echoed in the high-ceilinged room. It was over in seconds and silence crept in again.

“I’d like that.”

-End-

[The title comes from a quote in Moby Dick: "A noble craft, but somehow a most melancholy. All noble things are touched with that.” It reminded me of Gevanni’s rather solitary hobby as well as the occupation of solving cases as L.]

#fanfiction #death note #submission #near #gevanni #ratings: general #kiranatrix #resilicns #Near's Bday Finale 2k21

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago

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HASO, “Secret Weapon.”

Hello everyone!

Sorry I have not posted anything in like a weak. I have plenty of excuses number one being that the fourth book in my favorite book series (the Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson came out) and I needed to finish reading it for my own sanity

number two being that I am currently working on a new novel and am trying to write 2000 words a day on that

plus I am trying to get into graduate school

also I have a job

And am experiencing a tiny bit f burnout :)

Either way I am sorry that It has been a while, and I hope you like the story today.

“Is he alright?”

“Not this again.”

“Someone should go talk to him.”

“I thought we were past this.”

Dr. Krill, Sunny, Dr Katie, Ramirez, and Maverick huddled outside the door to the observation platform looking inward to where the man stood in front of the window illuminated by a field of stars. His posture was eerily similar to how they had seen him once before, not long before a near breakdown had led him to take leave. Leave they weren’t entirely sure he would come back from.

They hoped this wouldn’t be like that, but this picture seemed all too familiar.

“Someone should go talk to him.”

Four heads turned to face Sunny who turned the corners of her mouth down in the approximation of a frown, “Why me.”

“Well aren't you like…. His girlfriend.”

“Ex.”

Ramirez raised an eyebrow, “You guys have been pretty cuddly recently for exes.”

Sunny huffed, “The relationship has yet to be defined, but that's beside the point. Ramirez you’re his BFF or whatever you humans call it.”

Ramirez shook his head, “Me, no I think Maverick has this one. She’s all spiritual and what not, so she is like supposed to talk to people about their problems.”

Maverick snorted, “I’m a chaplain not a therapist. Talk to doctor Adric if you need that.” She turned to look to doctor Krill, “If anyone should be talking to him it’s you. You’ve been his friend the second longest and you are the most logical.”

Dr Krill waved a hand, “I am not equipped to handle your human issues.”

“That is such a cop-out answer.”

The squabble continued for a few minutes, until finally Sunny raised her voice, “Fne, fine, I will go talk to him. You all wait here.”

They quieted down clustering around the door as they watched Sunny move forward into the room. She took a deep breath and slowly approached coming up to stand beside him. She turned her head fearing what kind of expression she might find on his face, and was both surprised, relieved, and concerned to find he had an expression of puzzled concentration on his face, brows knit together, mouth turned down in a frown.

She reached up and rested a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, you alright.”

He turned his head to look up at her, “Hmmm, oh yeah…. Fine as I can be I suppose.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His mouth turned up in a tight smile, “Only if you tell the others to stop loitering in the door and come help me out.” He raised his voice so that the others could hear and, in abashment, they headed into the room. Surprisingly Conn drifted in from the other side of the room where he had been spying from the other door.

They clustered together on one of the tables taking a seat as he turned to face them. He was smiling pleasantly, and the group glanced between each other in concern. It seemed like he was doing fine, but who were they to judge, they had been wrong before.

“Worried about me again I see.”

“I mean, you’ll forgive us. You have been…. Questionably erratic in the past.”

His smile continued,” I know, and I thank you, all for your concern about me. It is nice to know I have friends who I can count on.” He turned to look at Conn, “Go on, tell them.”

Conn floated off to the side ribbons undulating in his simulated zero gravity field, “He is stressed but not overly so.”

They nodded relieved.

He turned, putting his hands behind his back and began to pace. Hisback was straight and the way he walked was like a general examining his troops on the battlefield. “I admit that I have been distant, and I admit that in the past something like this would have overwhelmed me. I still FEEL overwhelmed though not in a drowning sort of way.” He turned the other direction, “I feel like I have been caught in an intergalactic game of chess where I am the king facing down a queen and her rooks.”

Sunny didn’t understand the metaphor but Krill certainly seemed to.

“I don’t have enough experience to play the game and so my movements are limited. But the chairwoman…. She’s a Rundi, and has trained for politics all her life in one way or another.” he turned back in the opposite direction. “And just like a king in chess I find myself the most important piece of a game that I cannot directly influence.”

They watched him pacing back and forth. They had never seen him like this, though it was better than the other options.

“I think you underestimate your position.”

Admiral vir lifted his head, “And how is that?”

Dr Kate idly played with the ends of her hair as she thought, “Well, you know what she is planning. And she doesn't know that you know, which, I feel, gives you a leg up.”

He nodded, ‘And you are right, for sure, butI find the problem being that I’m not…. Smart enough to know how to use it.” He turned in the other direction, “I had my IQ tested at the academy you know…. Above average but nowhere close to genius, which I would need to be in order to play this sort of game.” He turned to eye krill, “We have a certified genius aboard the ship, but something tells me that politics wouldn’t be your strong suit.”

Krill shrugged rather abashedly. That was true enough.

“If only I had some sort of secret weapon.”

***

Eris had never been off-world.

Noctopolis had been her home for as long as she could remember though the early days of her life had been spent inside a cage. She was Eunique, the only one of her kind, half human and half starborn, and sometimes, it felt, completely alone.

Despite her maturity, she was less than three years old, and had been grown at an enhanced rate inside a simulated womb using adapted DNA to configure her parts. She was completely unnatural, a freak of nature that had nothing to do with nature. She was an unnatural abomination. And since they had been rescued, she had spend her days living and working for other people. The hybrids had needed a stable home,somewhere they could learn and grow and feel loved.

She had created that place, and provided that for a time, but she was growing exhausted.

Others had stepped in to help and volunteer. People from all over the galaxy had really shown their compassion in coming to her and either adopting the hybrids or offering to help and work athr foundation. A sweet LFIL couple (Tesraki and Human pair) had offered to take over for her as she was struggling to run what what essentially a business in some ways, though it was more a boarding house for the hybrids.

In the end there were only a few left who needed watching, and her burnout had been obvious to others.

She needed to get away.

To find her own path, but….. What was that?

Eris couldn’t survive in space like a starborn, that was well established, her bones and organ structures were like that of a human. The internal structures of a hybrid always had to be one way or another to avoid horrific malfunctions, so in most ways she was human.

Accept for her skin, and eyes of course which were starborn. She was as pale as alabaster and her eyes were wide and dark. This made her a freak to humans, so she kept her dark hair very long inorder to hide her face, which she grew more and more ashamed of by the day.

It didn’t help that she had the ability to read the thoughts of others, and knew better than anyone what people thought about her.

She wore a gravity belt sometimes since she found it felt better on her joints, but she had stopped when she left the foundation and struck out on her own. Today she wore a hoodie -- with the UNSC logo on it -- and very dark sunglasses.

Final boarding call for flight 1427 to earth, Final boarding call.

Eris followed behind the tide of other humans pulling her luggage along behind her. She was tired, and her knees ached a little, but she supposed she was ok. Due to the nature of her eyes, she didn’t see very well as humans did, but reading the minds of others as a constant background in her head she was able to navigate better than anyone there as she knew when they were going to move on when they were going to stop. She maneuvered the tide of human bodies like no human could.

Again, Eris was mostly human. She didn’t hear though, and relied on others to do that for her, and she couldn't taste or smell either, but that was also something she could borrow.

Her senses lacked only what the people around her could and could not see.

She follow the boarding call with the other passengers and offered her ticket to the flight attendant.

The woman squinted under her hood rather suspiciously, but didn’t say anything. These space ports were well guarded, and Eris had already had to deal with other people staring at her when she went through security.

She followed the other humans onto the shuttle and took a seat. The floor glowed blue throbbi in time with the engine as she locked herself into her seat. Out the window she could see the surface of mars, Hazy grey in the distance with rough red plateau’s rising up in the distance.

It was strange to be in the human system, the genesis of half her ancestral line. SHe didn't know about her starborn half as she had never met one. She knew who her DNA donor had been in theory, though he had likely had his DNA stolen.

Eris doubted that he knew about her.

And then there was her human donor, Admiral Vir, the most famous human in the galaxy.

Eris Vir

She kind of liked that, though she never really used it, feeling he might see it as a breach of privacy. The man had been nothing but good to her the few times she had met him, and the one time he had saved her. She admired him a lot and wished she had a better relationship with him, though his job took him far away. She wasn’t the only one, most all of her hybrid brothers and sisters, who were part human,had been grown off his stolen DNA.

She was the only one, however, that seemed to care.

Eris Vir.

She sighed and leaned her head against the window.

What was she doing?

Below her the ground sped away as the automated safety system continued to give instructions.

“Preparing for warp.”

She held onto the seat feeling her insides churn as the warp sequence engaged. She jerked once against her seatbelt as te warp stopped, and below her she could see the glittering vista of the human homeworld.

Earth.

She pressed her face up to the window and gasped in awe.

It was beautiful blue and green swirled with delicate white clouds in churning spirals.

Herheart raced inside her chest.

This was it…. This is where it all began.

Preparing to dock on lunar 1 please remain in your seats until the seatbelt sign is off.

She waited patiently and stopped off with the others, walking out into the fifth spaceport of her trip, her suitcase rattling behind her.

She followed the sins to the proper docking station and waited for another shuttle that would take her to earth. It would be at least an hour for the next one to Mid-Mericanda, so she would have to wait.

She slumped in her seat and listened to the music of the girl next to hre. The music was ood, it had a nice beat.

When her boarding was called, she stood and followed onto another shuttle, which took her down through the atmosphere rattling and bouncing in her seat. She did her best to keep her hood covering her face as she stared out the window at the wondrous view below her. It was so bright!.

Noctopolis had no sunlight, but this was beautiful and colorful, and it looked so warm.

She didn’t see why everyone thought earth was so dangerous.

They touched down outside an Airport where she could see planes fuling for in-atmosphere flights, and stepped out onto the tarmac with wide eyes. Wides eyes under the radiation of the sun. Glorious, glorious heat, it warmed her through her sweatshirts and into her body making her drowsy and happy and warm. Her entire body felt energized, and even her knees seemed as if they were aching just a little less. She stood in the sun probably longer than she should have.

“Been a while since you’ve seen the sun huh?”

She jumped a little in surprise, which was unusual for her and turned to look at the human baggage attendant standing on the other side of the gate, “Oh yes…. A very…. Very long time.”

The smiling human tipped his hat at her, “Well enjoy your stay ma’am.”

She couldn’t help but smiling back thinking about how pleasant he was. His memories were warm, filled with sunny days spent with his family. It made her chest ache just to think of it as she turned and headed towards the baggage claim.

She picked up her bags just fine and then walked to stand just outside.

Suddenly very lost.

She looked up at the sky which was a beautiful blue color she had never seen before and she breathed in the air of earth, Air thousands of years old, breath in by countless humans that had come before.

Eris frowned at herself. She needed to stop thinking of them as being so different from her. She was half human after all, even though her eyes and skin were a little strange. Still, it that moment she had never felt so alien, unsure of where to go or how to proceed.

“Need a lift. Lady.”

She turned on the spot coming fact to face with a man leaning back against the hood of his strange yellow machine…. A taxi it seemed.

She searched or his intentions and heard nothing but his desire to work.

She walked over nervously and held up a small piece of paper, “I am looking for this address, do you know how I can get there.” He scanned the address with a chip implanted in his hand and then tilted his head to look down at his wrist as a map appeared.

He chewed slowly on a wad of gum and blew a bubble, “Yeah I can get you there, can you pay.”

“Do you take credits?”

“Take anything as long as you meet the exchange value for dollars.”

She nodded, “I would like to be taken there then, please.”

The man nodded and touched his forehead helping her ut her suitcase in the back before opening the door for her. She climbed in, and h slid into the front seat pulling away and into traffic. Looking around she could see most of the vehicles didn’t touch the ground, though a few rolled on wheels. The high speeds at which they drove made her nervous and she clutched the harness holding her in place.

Below her she could see the city unfolding in a great sprawling vista. She stared, the architecture was so strange with sharp geometric lines mostly of steel and glass rising hundreds of feet into the air. They dropped lower into the city and eventually out to where lines and lines of similarly cut houses stood in sharp rows.

She had seen this in the memories of humans before but never thought shed see it.

They drove for a little longer until the houses gave way to sprawling fields and little tons until they pulled into a small place in comparison to the city, past a school and some other amenities before pulling in to another one of the subdivisions.

She recognized the house even though she had never seen it in person, and the Driver pulled to a stop.

She paid the man and stepped out of the car thanking him as he got her bag for her and then just drove off.

Eris was left standing alone on the quiet suburban street under an earth sun. Though she was alone her mind was full of strange images, seen through the eyes of unusual creatures. It made her disoriented for a moment, but she quietly walked forward up the sidewalk and to the front door of the house.

She paused.

She could feel people inside, and knew that she was at the right palace, but she was nervous, how would they react to her. Would they even accept her existence?

What was she doing here?

It’s not like she was part of thor family, not by choice anyway.

She almost turned around but stopped and then raised a hand knocking softly on the door.

Eris held her breath and waited, footsteps approached the door, a man approaching thinking nothing more than one of his neighbors come to ask a question.

The door opened and Jim Vir looked down at her.

He was a tall intimidating man, one who had work hard all his life.

He tilted his head in that curious fashion humans had, “Can I help you?”

Nervously, Eris pushed back her hood and pulled off her sunglasses letting her long black hair roll down next to her face. The man’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but the thought in his head was a little less than what she expected.

Another one

He frowned, “You’re…. Not a starborn ar you?”

Hedidn’t seem to think so recalling that Adam’s friend Conn couldn’t survive without a 0 gravity field.

She shuffled nervously, “No…. well yes…. I’m half starborn and half human.”

Yep, another one.

To her surprise he smiled and opened the door, “You must be Eris then.”

She blinked, “You know about me/”

Dumb question as she could see Adam had told his parents about her. They even had a picture of the two of them together.

Despite hos scary he looked his thoughts and demeanor were pleasant as he opened the door to invite her in, “Guess this makes you my granddaughter in a way doesn’t it?”

“In the technical sense.” She said quietly smiling

“Well Family is always welcome here.”

Isn’t that nice she thought.

She hoped it was going to work out

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shoezuki · 4 years ago

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Tommy's prison/revival arc isnt well written actually

Anyways ive been wanting to talk on it a while for a bit here but havent had the Time or like. The thought to. But im gonna go off now.

First off im gonna say im ASSUMING this stream and plot of tommy being in the prison with dream is written entirely by tommy and dream. Wilbur May be involved in the latest stream but im not sure.

Bringing tommy back to life after only three days of him being dead did practically nothing to progress plot, the characters, or audience's understanding. In fact i feel that it damaged Other characters' potential and plot and already established plotlines.

The 'development' aspect

A really, really easy way to see if anything has changed or developed through an arc or plotline is to straightup just compare the 'beginning' to the 'end' in terms of the barebones situation. So;

Beginning: tommy is trapped in an isolated prison cell with dream, his own abuser who has hurt him in the past, for an unknown amount of time. He's terrified of dream and being stuck there with him.

End: tommy is trapped in an isolated prison cell with dream after being killed then revived by him, his own abuser whos hurt him in the past, for an unknown amount of time. Hes terrified of dream and being stuck there with him.

Okay. This is simplified obvious. But the point stands. ALTHOUGH the troupe of 'going back to the beginning' is common in the heroes journey its. It doesnt work here. Has tommy learned anything? Has he changed as a character? Is the severity of their situation any different? Have we, as the audience, learned anything new?

Im going to expand on that last point because i think it has the strongest potential argument. Technically for progression in literature and development of plot/characters, things can Change without them being Aware as characters. It can change just by the audience's perception changing or being challenge.

Slight example: i've been reading a webcomic called Your Throne. Its a fantasy/political drama about a noble lady who entered a competition with another noble lady to become the empress. The main lady lost despite her being a better fit, and the comic starts with the main lady trying to assassinate the empress. Its assumed and stated by the main lady that she 'ruined her life' and so thats all the readers know. However, later in the novel we see flashbacks to the competition itself and find that the two ladies were extremely close friends, neither wanting anything bad for the other, but it was the emperor himself who manipulated both of them for his own agenda. Those flashbacks gave us an entirely different idea of who the real antagonist is and completely changed the two main ladies' relationship. THAT is how the audience's understanding of the plot and novel can be used to change the entire story. We dont get such here though

Some things that were brought to light during tommy being dead/revived:

Dream is capable of reviving people infinitely

This was already implicated and assumed. The book dream has being a means of reviving people has been around Technically since schlatt's death. This just 'confirmed' what was known

Time works differently/feels longer in the afterlife

This doesnt really impact much beyond emotions and implications. If we had more insight into what the 'afterlife' is like beyond nothingness perhaps so. But really it just makes it so wilbur being dead for what feels like 9 years and tommy having been dead for 2 months appeal to emotions.

Wilbur is evil

This one fuckin sucks i cant lie HSKSHSISSGEGDV. Like i was gon go on bout it and i will but it jus sucks. We have nothing to go on besides tommy's word, no examlles of what Horrible things wilbur said could make tommy assume this, etcetc. Ill most likely make a seperate post on how this feels like we're just going to get 'wilbur is a horrible villain' type with him. But still. I feel wilbur Not Being Good isnt a new development.

Dream is going to revive wilbur

This doesnt feel new either, part because phil had wanted to revive wilbur before (ill get to that more later) and that tommy had kept dream alive/initially imprisoned him with the idea of him reviving wilbur.

Dream believes wilbur will break him out of prison

Okau this makes no sense to me actually. I cwnt understand How exactly wilbur would be able to do this? Or why dream believes he even Could? Mans been dead for like 9 years and all we Know of the afterlife is that its black... nothingness. How would 9 years of that make wilbur capable of busting the prison open?

So. Yeah. All in all this plotline hasnt done anything new, developed things, or altered people's perceptions. We just ended up back at square one. Back to tommy being traumatized, dream being 'evil' and horrible and doing villain monologues, and them being stuck together.

Other characters and plotlines

Im pretty damn sure tommy's revival fucked up a LOT of other characters' plotlines and potential development. Honestly i feel this has a lot to do with the writers not communicating with other ccs well enough. But Ill talk about specific characters from least to most fucked over in my opinion:

Sam

He's the best off. He hqd been there during tommy's death, had been close to tommy, had majorly blamed himself and his own mistakes for tommy's death. His grief and self hatred was actually really heartbreaking and well done. The attached character of Sam Nook being unaware of tommy's death and simply waiting for tommy to return was a really good parallel to sam's own grief and anger. like it really snapped sam the guy who cares for tommy and wants to do Right by him back together with him as the Warden of the prison. Mixed personal life with 'just business'.

I feel it wouldve been nice to have him like. Have more time to grieve properly and come to terms eith tommy's death and his own involvement/influence over the events. Him finding tommy alive again Could be a means of him like. Facing his own grief head on if done well.

Ranboo

Mostly in the context of him and sam's argument do i feel it got screwed over. The weight of them yelling at each other and trying to find who to blame and the implications that Maybe ranboo was the one who caused the security breach that closed down the prison on tommy just.... doesnt hit so hard anymore. Because how can there be blame and arguments and a 'who done it' mystery when tommy popped up all fine again?

Puffy

I dony know much of her involvement or how she found out tommy died (besides metagaming shhhhh) but i saw her monologuing of how they 'failed' tommy and like. Her whole 'he was so young we the Adults failed him' spiel is like........... inconsequential? Now??? Like no dont worry he died but hes alright now.

Philza

BET YOU DIDNY EXPECT TO SEE THIS FUCKER!!!!!! But actually though i want to talk bout how this ties into phil. A LOT. for Zalbr ❤. But also because i see ppl tying phil to tommy's death n like nah shutup u doin it wrong. Ill go off more in a Wilbur Post. But essentially: i dont like that dream is now going to revive wilbur. I feel they arent going to tie philza into this Despite phil having originally been trying to revive his son and studying on it and Attempting and Failing. But now suddenly dream can just. Say some magic words and Poof wilbur lives? So we're just going to Kill philza's revival attempts plotline and leave that hanging? This made his efforts seem pointless and Wack like oh why didnt you just Say The Magic Words phil????

Niki

I feel really bad for niki. She hasnt been able to do a lore stream during tommy's 'death' (she tweeted she wanted to but her computer wasnt working) and considering her entire character.... that shit is important. We seen it with Jack Manifold how tommy's death impacted Him considering he literally wanted tommy dead. And since niki is in a similar boat to jack of trying to kill tommy and it being her Only goal...... thats extremely important.

BUT. i feel there wasnt any communication. Did she or anyone even know tommy would be revived? Did no one consider they could At Least let her do a single stream on it? Like jack manifold????

We couldve gotten a Really good niki lore stream. I genuinely was so excited for it and i dont regularly watch her. But we seen it with jack manifold which is why i dont feel he got screwed because mans genuinely did So Good he could pop off with anything n i think it works in His favour. But now........ for niki. Canonically she never even knew tommy was Dead. So its like nothing even happened for her. Is she just supposed to continue on trying to kill tommy with no progression?

What i think would work

This is more me being like 'hey @ the dsmp writers let me in' type speculation sbosegussgs. But i was thinkin on a Really easy way to 'fix' this without rewriting lore and the streams.

Dream should kill tommy again now that he's been revived and Leave Him Dead.

More development for the characters who are affected by his death Especially niki. More time for grief and self reflection and development

A chance for the audience to figure out what the 'afterlife' really is.

Dream is supposed to be smart and a master manipulator or something right? Why doesnt he use being able to revive tommy as a bargaining chip with sam for his own freedom?

The audience would now Know dream's intentions with tommy better, that this death isnt 'final', but we could still see other characters' grief and reactions and coping without it feeling cheap. Ive seen some 'but people dont know tommy is alive so hes still dead in their mind' but that sucks imo.

We'd know more on dream's ability to revive people and that he can just Do It on a whim (which i think sucks but hey im trying) but no one else would know this canonically

Okay. Im done. If you read this. Thankyou. I love you. Hmu.

#mcyt #dream smp #dream smp critical #tommyinnit #dream #im puttin this in main tags took me too fuckin long to write for me Not to #death mention #ask to tag

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deliciousscaloppine · 4 years ago

Text

Hot Takes Galore: A brief overview of fandom backlashes that influenced fanfiction writing traditions as I have personally experienced them:

In today’s segment I am going to talk about copyright infringement.

First let me preface this by saying I have only ever been in 3 fandoms, starting from 2008 and I have never been terribly active - like this blog has been the most active I’ve ever been in any fandom ever. I am not going to talk about particular fandom dramas because I am pretty clueless about that. What I am going to talk about is that friction between “reality” and online spaces that brought about changes that are still in effect today in the way fanfiction is written and perceived.

In 2008 as I was entering, nearly every piece of fanfiction had a disclaimer about the author not owning the characters, which were the property of Corporate Entity X, or Author Y, and also not profiting from the work in any shape or form. At the time getting money from writing fanfiction was a gigantic taboo, and almost no one did it, or advertised that they did.

But as I understand through convention culture printed writing did circulate in exchange for money (zines), and at least in Japan one could sell doujinshis (self-published stories and comics, often within the framework of another work) in certain events. Although this was largely considered “illegal” under copyright laws, and artists could be persecuted or blacklisted from entering the industry if discovered. That’s also why fanartists often to this day may screen where and when their work is viewed, and move to take down reposts, or call others to protest if artworks are circulated without permission outside of the artist’s page.

Older fandom people also hated authors that moved against fanfiction, a big case being Anne Rice, the vampire lady everyone - including me - copies when writing about vampires. And now I am going to talk a little about that.

Usually, writers, just sit somewhere cosy and write, and often they have no idea, absolutely no idea, on how to manage their writing properties - usually a lawyer does that, and lawyers want A Lot Of Money (A brief brush with justice and lawyers over a civil dispute I won, cost me 1000 euros out of nowhere, in a single day, and no I couldn’t avoid it because I was the accused one, so I had to appear with some representation).

So sometimes, quite often, it’s a lawyer that activates a writer or other artist to move against “smaller” copyright infringements, in order to make bank. And if one suffers such a case, they should make it as apparent as possible to the other party that they have no money, and the pressure will go away immediately. But even MORE OFTEN a small copyright infringement, may lead to a sequence of bigger ones, and ultimately the de facto loss of rights from one’s writing properties, and of course revenue.

And for a lot of published authors, they just don’t know for how long they can publish things - publishing houses that have them signed can close, book sales can drop, tastes change, personal problems, and anything else may mean that they could find themselves without a source of income at any point in the future, while they are aging and becoming more and more irrelevant.

A very famous case currently, is that of Alan Dean Foster, the writer who has done some novelizations for movies like Star Wars and Alien, and is no longer receiving revenue from that - while his wife is hospitalized and their family needs the income - because Disney absorbed the company that had signed the contract with him, and chose to not honor the previous contract. To make them pay he will have to go into a huge legal battle with a corporate giant, which he cannot afford. But they still absorb income from these novelizations.

But how does fanfiction tie into that, and Anne Rice’s case (which if memory serves right, also went through a series of personal problems, including her husband’s death during that time).

So for a lot of writers, fanfiction may be that tiny breach that may threaten their rights in the future from tresspases of distribution networks. Meaning, people write vampire fanfiction based on Anne Rice’s work? What if another publishing house used the template of her works (historical settings, bleeding orifices, religious themes, homosexuality and sexual trauma etc) and produced a royalty free series of such works with a team of professional writers that do not own the work - who often have less rights, like not owning the characters, or the storylines, participating in a very small scale, so their payment goes down etc)

And in this way EVERYONE SUFFERS. Big Name Published Author fades into obscurity and goes into poverty and payroll writers are horrifically abused.

A lot of hobbyists, and hobbyist writers whose sole dream is to be published in some shape or form, do not really care, and do not concern themselves with the legal aspect of creation, or the technical skill that it takes to produce writing on a consistent basis, which can only happen if you’ve got your basic needs covered. So they might see this type of backlash as inherently privileged.

But it’s not really a privilege, there has been a global recession in basic working rights for everyone, and lovers of fiction don’t have to condone, of course, attacks against them, but they need to put that kind of backlash in perspective. Someone did write the content you enjoy, THEY ARE NOT DEAD YET, and may have opinions on how it should be managed, especially when it pertains to their livelihood.

It’s a delicate balance that we all must keep in order to keep corporate regulations out of it.

For instance with the recent danmei explosion The Untamed brought forth, Ao3 was banned in China. Now a lot of you might know that this was caused by some real person fic involving the actor Xiao Zhan, which led to a whole other level of drama. But make no mistake this was a political act to protect the interests of the domestic publishing industry as it prepares to do an international opening that will bring in several billions from foreign markets.

Because Ao3 has been expanding as a platform globally it brings about changes, and in many cases steals readers away from traditional publishing, so it becomes unacceptable economically for a bunch of hobbyists to influence tastes, market mores, and create sensationalism around certain properties out of literally the blue. This is not a good thing for a lot of corporate thinking, they set the product and we are supposed to buy it. We are not supposed to go, it would look greater with a bunch of anal, and then put forth a million words altering the character of the intellectual property.

Why you ask? Again, because another publishing industry might choose to imitate the style of danmei fanfics and produce works that hijack readership, or lead to breach of contracts, making an unsafe environment for workers in this industry (Xiao Zhan’s case.)

Nowadays I see more and more fanfic authors coming out of their shell to ask money for writing in the form of donations, patronage and commissions, as fandom involvement is also becoming vastly monetized. The market of conventions coming into social media platforms. A strange more exists still in which while “legally wrong”, as long as money is not asked on the publishing platform (Ao3), it may not count as copyright infringement. But fanfic authors, may still be treated with hostility for this, for not “deserving” to profit from someone else’s properties, or even worse for “stealing” readership.

For instance a recent argument I have seen from lgbtq authors, is that they remain unsupported by fandom spaces, who often proclaim themselves as lgbtq or lgbtq friendly (something that is not true), but at the same time they are not looking for published lgbtq stories, or authors, or even treat these with open hostility, or a lot of bias.

Fandom is not comprised from “readers” in the traditional sense, definitely not friends of literature, and it’s free, no one really has to pay anything to read a published fanfic. So it’s a pretty loose demographic with no set characteristics, and no interest in investing time and money in something for long. It’s an online social activity and not a readers’ movement, highly influenced by peer pressure and branding. It’s basically a gigantic group of people who don’t really do anything for no one, and may develop a parasitic connection to intellectual properties (I am sorry peers, it’s the truth).

And it’s perhaps the biggest counterculture scene at the moment in the developed world. To this day it treats even its own authors with tremendous suspicion, disregard and dismissal, meaning that even if someone can get some money and recognition locally through writing fanfic they are on thin fucking ice at all times for all the reasons but mostly attracting unnecessary attention to themselves and subsequently the scene. A pattern that we will see is endemic to all forms of fandom backlashes.

So to this day in contrast with fanart, fan writers may not be compensated for their troubles, but may also be ousted from their domestic professional spaces for writing fanfic that may infringe on their intellectual property.

The thing is, for me, that fandom culture can become incredibly supportive of corporate practices that harm actual people (writers, they are people too) but when they realize that the same corporate practices may be used against them, it’s too late to realize that it’s not a lottery of who wins by crying more, and by the time that happens, a corporation or industry who has used them to do its dark bidding, can stop catering to them because ultimately they have become again irrelevant once a well defined demographic of readers and viewers has been secured.

So if you are going to do counterculture, at least do it right. Be respectful of the writers/authors of the content you consume and mindful of their troubles, do not generate public strife that brings in political regulation in favor of corporate interests. Become interested in writing culture, support your fanfic authors with lasting engagement in their work, even if it escapes the narrow confines of a certain fandom. It’s simple. Eat, live, pray, fuck, or something.

#fandom history?

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thelordofdarkreunion · 4 years ago

Text

Magnificent Scoundrels- Explanation of Caution

Part II of “Pariah”. Sorry it took so long for me to get this out, but I had to re-write it four times. The first was too boring, the second too weird, the third too long and too boring and so on. On to the story!

Aboard the Omen

The marines looked up with barely concealed hatred at Cain. The man in question barely noticed it. He watched, impassively, as the Valhallan Guardsmen tore through the marines’ personal possessions, tipping over containers, opening drawers, and searching every inch of their quarters and person. Teams of Imperials were searching the entire ship, weapons at the ready, bayonets fixed. For what exactly, Adam Vir and the crew of the Omen didn’t know. Only that every member of the crew, alien and human alike, were being held at gunpoint as Imperial Guardsmen walked through the ship’s long halls.

“Nothing on the Captain’s logs, sir,” said one of the Valhallan officers. Vir looked at her with a frown on his face, arms crossed. He had allowed them to do what they wanted to avoid any bloodshed or misunderstanding. He was getting rather fed up, though. If this continued for long, or if things got violent… he still had the Iron Eye suit on under his clothing. Kill Cain and the guards, if necessary, get to the armory, take back the ship. Chaplain Tope walked into the room.

“Nothing, Commissar. Not even amongst the xenos,” he reported. Cain turned to face him, black greatcoat swirling.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Tope. “They can all stand in the presence of Imperial relics and prayers.”

“Good.” Cain keyed his comms. “Colonel? Major? Have you found anything?”

“Nothing. No signs. We used their blueprints to search the entire ship. Everything is clean.” Vir couldn’t take it anymore.

“What’s going on, Cain? What are you looking for?” Cain turned to him and seemed to be musing things over. He spun around.

“You. Marine. What is the proper procedure if you’re being charged in battle?” The marine looked at him strangely.

“Uh… fortify a secure location or take the high ground? Fight back from defensive positions?” Cain nodded slowly. Good.

No signs of taint. No mutations. No psykers except that Emperor-damned xeno. The marines don’t show any signs of excessive violence or willingness to get into close quarters. No murders in training. No odd cliques or groups. The entire ship is exceptionally sterile and clean. No strange blights or markings. No signs of drugs or orgies, thank the Emperor. No perverse and blasphemous symbols painted in blood or other… fluids. They can all stand being around Imperial holy relics and Jurgen. Nothing. Nothing wrong or out of the ordinary throughout the entire ship. Trust them or not.

You are Commissar Ciaphas Cain, noted for his mercy. Hero to your men for not cleaning house when other Commissars would have. You have orders to investigate. You have already trusted xenos. You have already trusted Vir.

Innocentia nihil probat. Innocence proves nothing. Trust leads to a poor end. Your life matters the most, above all else. Hate the xenos. Cleanse the xenos. More trust leads to heresy. That way the path of damnation lays.

He came to a conclusion. Compromise.

“Admiral Vir, I believe this has once again, been another, uh… cultural misunderstanding. Forgive me for my thoroughness.” He looked over at the still put-off stare of the Admiral. “I believe I told you that it’s better to explain too much caution than suffer for not enough. If you’ll come back to my office, I’ll be happy to explain.” Nodding slightly, the same expression still on her face, Vir followed him out of the room. The Imperial Guardsmen stared at the marines for an eternal, awkward moment before their officer snapped at them and they retreated from the room in an orderly fashion. The officer presented a salute, then turned on her heel and marched after them. The marines stared at each other.

“What was that all about?” asked Ramirez to no-one in particular. The other marines shook their heads with varying degrees of anger and perplexity.

“I’m not sure. But I think I know someone who might…” trailed off Maverick pensively.

In the (Temporary and Borrowed) Office of Commissar Cain

Vir followed Cain’s billowing greatcoat back into his office, the place where this mess had all started in the first place.

“Sit down,” offered Cain. “Want anything to drink? Tea? Re- uh, actually… I believe your word for word for it is coffee?” Vir rubbed his forehead.

“Yeah, sure. Coffee is fine.” Cain nodded.

“Jurgen! One tanna, one recaf.” Cain looked back at Vir. “Tanna leaf tea from Valhalla, recaf is coffee.”

“Recaf, re-caffeinated… makes sense.”

“I suppose,” sighed Cain as the drinks were brought in. “Now, on to business.”

“Yes. I would quite like to know what all of that was about.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“...yes. Of course.” Cain rubbed his neck as he tried to find a way to explain. “Where I come from there exists… a corrupting influence, is probably the best way to put it. Uh…” His hand drummed on the side of his mug. “Now, again, where I come from, there are… some… who have… unnatural abilities. They can do… strange, strange things, among them telepathy. However, to access these… abilities puts them into contact with this corrupting influence. Without the blessings of the Emperor, the havoc these individuals can wreak is enormous. It is much, much better to be careful in these sort of situations. I am sorry that this might have been a breach of trust, but if you or anyone else here were actually corrupted and hiding it, the damage to everyone and everything else would have been catastrophic.” He paused, and offered a sincere smile. “If there is any way to repair this mistrust, please tell me, and I shall do my utmost.” Vir waved him off.

“S’alright,” he muttered into his coffee. Another damn misunderstanding. He sighed to himself and looked up. “Now, what about Jurgen?

Maverick entered the Imperial chapel. The temperature here, in contrast to the rest of the Valhallan quarters, was quite mild. While she’d known that the Imperials had built a small chapel on board, she’d never been there, instead meeting Chaplain Tope in the sparse grey of one of the Omen’s conference rooms. She didn't quite know what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.

The lighting in the room had been toned down. The normally cheerful white of the rest of the Omen was gone, replaced by a faint yellow glow. Dripping white candles lit an altar, their flames barely flickering in the ship’s recycled air. Kneeling before the altar, his head bowed in prayer, was Tope. A gilded statuette of the golden Imperial eagle was placed reverently on top, next to the candles and a heavy leather bound tome. The entire room had a dark, almost oppressive, gothic feel to it. It was such a contrast to the normal Omen it stopped Maverick in her tracks.

Was that a… skull floating in the corner? She did a double take. Yes, indeed, there was a human skull floating in the corner. Some sort of metal anti-gravity device was placed where the skull normally connected to the vertebrae, and a heavy red prosthetic, glowing an eerie red in the dim light, covered one of its eye sockets. What the hell…?

Above the altar was a painting of a man. He wore a suit of strange armor made of gold, carved and gilded to an almost astoundingly impressive degree. His hair was jet black, and flowed to his shoulders. A massive flaming sword was held in one hand, and a corona of golden light illuminated his body. But it was the expression of such utter righteous fury that took her breath away. This was someone who knew what they were doing was right, and would have no problem utterly annihilating anyone in their way. This figure could only be one person: the Emperor who the Imperials so fervently worshiped.

Tope finished his prayers, made some sort of strange symbol with his hands towards the altar, then smiled over at her.

“Chaplain Maverick. How can I help you?” Chaplain. Not corporal, not just Maverick, chaplain. Interesting.

“I was wondering… exactly what just happened? Why was Cain searching the ship? What was that all about?” Tope nodded, and smiled again.

“Ah, yes.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Tell me, chaplain. What do you believe?” Maverick looked at him oddly.

“Uh, well… I’m not with any particular religion. I’m really just here to attend to any sort of spiritual needs of the crew.” Tope gave her a strange look. That’s not what he was asking.

What do you believe?

“I believe that there are other… things out there. Spirits, if you will. I can… feel them, almost. If that’s… what you mean.” Tope nodded sagely.

“Of all the people on this ship, Cain and the Guardsmen included, I feel as if you are the wisest person here. I think you understand the most.” Maverick looked at him oddly again. Tope continued. “You see, you are a marine.” He gestured at her physique. “You are quite strong, quite physically capable. As a marine, having seen battle, having seen death, I’m sure you are also quite mentally strong as well. But there is more to that, as you well know. Spiritual strength. The strength of faith. The strength to resist what is beyond.” He gave a small, kindly, laugh, then a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Faith alone shall save. I saw your face when I explained our religion to you. There is a reason we worship the Emperor. He is the guardian of humanity. Everything about the Imperial Cult can be summed up with one simple phrase: the Emperor protects. Always. And if you have faith in Him, he will protect you as well.” Maverick nodded. So, that’s what they were afraid of. The beyond. Apparently, it was a lot worse where they came from. Good to know. Tope reached over to a side table, barely visible in the dim lighting, and picked up a heavy leather book with (of course) a golden eagle on the cover.

“If you’re ever interested in learning more, read this. It might help answer some of your questions.” Maverick took the book and nodded.

“Of course. Thank you for your time, Chaplain.” He nodded in response.

“Any time.” Maverick turned and walked briskly out of the room. She decided not to ask about the skull.

Cain pursed his lips. “Yes, of course. The reason why this all started in the first place. Jurgen.” Vir’s one good eye looked at him expectantly. Cain sighed. “Again, if this gets out, I’ll be forced to kill you. Just a reminder.” He took a sip of his strong-smelling tea, then began.

“Jurgen is a blank. The people who I told you about earlier, the ones who can manipulate reality and other such things, are called psykers. They draw their power from a strange, corrupted place, as I already mentioned. Jurgen is the opposite of a psyker. He doesn’t change reality, he anchors it. Any sort of… things… tricks…” he struggled for the right word, “Things that do not exist in reality, any changes cannot… take effect, if you will, near him. He shuts down their power, usually with a fair amount of pain for the manipulator. I’ve seen all sorts of reactions to him, from fear, to pain, to outright secures and unconsciousness. Usually any psykers cannot bear to be near him,” he finished. He considered something for a moment, then continued.

“It should also probably be noted that blanks are extremely rare, hence the need to protect what Jurgen actually is. Also, there isn’t any way to stop this power, so, unless you have any ideas, your alien is just going to have to stay away from him.” Not that I’m too terribly concerned about it.

“I understand. I guess I just have to think of something,” mused Vir. He stood up. “It was good to clear things up, Commissar.”

“Of course. The pleasure’s all mine, Admiral.” Vir walked out of Cain’s office, nodding to Jurgen as he left. Wasn’t that interesting? He’d never heard of anything like that before. Someone who could block… well, magic. Knowing some of the things he did, knowing the nature of some threats out there, this was a handy tool indeed. Yes, this could end quite well if he played his cards right.

And there we have it. Unfortunately, Conn is just going to have to stay as far away from Jurgen as possible and/or try not to read the minds of anyone close to him. As usual, if you have any questions, comments, concerns, criticisms, or requests, feel free to ask!

#magnificent scoundrels #writing #story #my writing #my story

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warninggraphiccontent · 3 years ago

Text

16 July 2021

Food for thought

At last week's Data Bites, I noted how 'Wales' is a standard unit of area. This week, along comes a map which shows that all the built-up land in the UK is equivalent to one Wales:

The map is from the National Food Strategy, published yesterday (and the man has a point).

It has divided opinion, judging by the responses to this tweet. I understand where the sceptics are coming from - at first glance, it may be confusing, given Wales isn't actually entirely built up, Cornwall made of peat, or Shetland that close to the mainland (or home to all the UK's golf courses). And I'm often critical of people using maps just because the data is geographical in some way, when a different, non-map visualisation would be better.

But I actually think this one works. Using a familiar geography to represent areas given over to particular land use might help us grasp it more readily (urban areas = size of Wales, beef and lamb pastures = more of the country than anything else). It's also clear that a huge amount of overseas land is needed to feed the UK, too.

The map has grabbed people's attention and got them talking, which is no bad thing. And it tells the main stories I suspect its creators wanted to. In other words, it's made those messages... land.

Trash talk

Happy Take Out The Trash Day!

Yesterday saw A LOT of things published by Cabinet Office - data on special advisers, correspondence with parliamentarians, public bodies and major projects to name but a few, and the small matter of the new plans outlining departmental priorities and how their performance will be measured.

It's great that government is publishing this stuff. It's less great that too much of it still involves data being published in PDFs not spreadsheets. And it's even less great that the ignoble tradition of Take Out The Trash Day continues, for all the reasons here (written yesterday) and here (written in 2017).

I know this isn't (necessarily) deliberate, and it's a lot of good people working very hard to get things finished before the summer (as my 2017 piece acknowledges). And it's good to see government being transparent.

But it's 2021, for crying out loud. The data collection should be easier. The use of this data in government should be more widespread to begin with.

We should expect better.

In other news:

I was really pleased to have helped the excellent team at Transparency International UK (by way of some comments on a draft) with their new report exploring access and influence in UK housing policy, House of Cards. Read it here.

One of our recent Data Bites speakers, Doug Gurr, is apparently in the running to run the NHS. More here.

Any excuse to plug my Audrey Tang interview.

The good folk at ODI Leeds/The Data City/the ODI have picked up and run with my (and others') attempt to map the UK government data ecosystem. Do help them out.

Five years ago this week...

Regarding last week's headline of Three Lines on a Chart: obviously I was going to.

Have a great weekend

Gavin

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Today's links:

Graphic content

Vax populi

Why vaccine-shy French are suddenly rushing to get jabbed* (The Economist)

Morning update on Macron demolishing French anti-vax feeling (or at least vax-hesitant) (Sophie Pedder via Nicolas Berrod)

How Emmanuel Macron’s “health passes” have led to a surge in vaccine bookings in France* (New Statesman)

How effective are coronavirus vaccines against the Delta variant?* (FT)

England faces the sternest test of its vaccination strategy* (The Economist)

Where Are The Newest COVID Hot Spots? Mostly Places With Low Vaccination Rates (NPR)

There's A Stark Red-Blue Divide When It Comes To States' Vaccination Rates (NPR)

All talk, no jabs: the reality of global vaccine diplomacy* (Telegraph)

Vaccination burnout? (Reuters)

Viral content

COVID-19: Will the data allow the government to lift restrictions on 19 July? (Sky News)

UK Covid-19 rates are the highest of any European country after Cyprus* (New Statesman)

COVID-19: Cautionary tale from the Netherlands' coronavirus unlocking - what lessons can the UK learn? (Sky News)

‘Inadequate’: Covid breaches on the rise in Australia’s hotel quarantine (The Guardian)

Side effects

COVID-19: Why is there a surge in winter viruses at the moment? (Sky News)

London Beats New York Back to Office, by a Latte* (Bloomberg)

Outdoor dining reopened restaurants for all — but added to barriers for disabled* (Washington Post)

NYC Needs the Commuting Crowds That Have Yet to Fully Return* (Bloomberg)

Politics and government

Who will succeed Angela Merkel?* (The Economist)

Special advisers in government (Tim for IfG)

How stingy are the UK’s benefits? (Jamie Thunder)

A decade of change for children's services funding (Pro Bono Economics)

National Food Strategy (independent review for UK Government)

National Food Strategy: Tax sugar and salt and prescribe veg, report says (BBC News)

Air, space

Can Wizz challenge Ryanair as king of Europe’s skies?* (FT)

Air passengers have become much more confrontational during the pandemic* (The Economist)

Branson and Bezos in space: how their rocket ships compare* (FT)

Sport

Euro 2020: England expects — the long road back to a Wembley final* (FT)

Most football fans – and most voters – support the England team taking the knee* (New Statesman)

Domestic violence surges after a football match ends* (The Economist)

The Most Valuable Soccer Player In America Is A Goalkeeper (FiveThirtyEight)

Sport is still rife with doping* (The Economist)

Wimbledon wild card success does not disguise financial challenge* (FT)

Can The U.S. Women’s Swim Team Make A Gold Medal Sweep? (FiveThirtyEight)

Everything else

Smoking: How large of a global problem is it? And how can we make progress against it? (Our World in Data)

Record June heat in North America and Europe linked to climate change* (FT)

Here’s a list of open, non-code tools that I use for #dataviz, #dataforgood, charity data, maps, infographics... (Lisa Hornung)

Meta data

Identity crisis

A single sign-on and digital identity solution for government (GDS)

UK government set to unveil next steps in digital identity market plan (Computer Weekly)

BCS calls for social media platforms to verify users to curb abuse (IT Pro)

ID verification for social media as a solution to online abuse is a terrible idea (diginomica)

Who is behind the online abuse of black England players and how can we stop it?* (New Statesman)

Euro 2020: Why abuse remains rife on social media (BBC News)

UK government

Online Media Literacy Strategy (DCMS)

Privacy enhancing technologies: Adoption guide (CDEI)

The Longitudinal Education Outcomes (LEO) dataset is now available in the ONS Secure Research Service (ADR UK)

Our Home Office 2024 DDaT Strategy is published (Home Office)

The UK’s Digital Regulation Plan makes few concrete commitments (Tech Monitor)

OSR statement on data transparency and the role of Heads of Profession for Statistics (Office for Statistics Regulation)

Good data from any source can help us report on the global goals to the UN (ONS)

The state of the UK’s statistical system 2020/21 (Office for Statistics Regulation)

Far from average: How COVID-19 has impacted the Average Weekly Earnings data (ONS)

Health

Shock treatment: can the pandemic turn the NHS digital? (E&T)

Can Vaccine Passports Actually Work? (Slate)

UK supercomputer Cambridge-1 to hunt for medical breakthroughs (The Guardian)

AI got 'rithm

An Applied Research Agenda for Data Governance for AI (GPAI)

Taoiseach and Minister Troy launch Government Roadmap for AI in Ireland (Irish Government)

Tech

“I Don’t Think I’ll Ever Go Back”: Return-to-Office Agita Is Sweeping Silicon Valley (Vanity Fair)

Google boss Sundar Pichai warns of threats to internet freedom (BBC News)

The class of 2021: Welcome to POLITICO’s annual ranking of the 28 power players behind Europe’s tech revolution (Politico)

Inside Facebook’s Data Wars* (New York Times)

Concern trolls and power grabs: Inside Big Tech’s angry, geeky, often petty war for your privacy (Protocol)

Exclusive extract: how Facebook's engineers spied on women* (Telegraph)

Face off

Can facial analysis technology create a child-safe internet? (The Observer)

#Identity, #OnlineSafety & #AgeVerification – notes on “Can facial analysis technology create a child-safe internet?” (Alec Muffett)

Europe makes the case to ban biometric surveillance* (Wired)

Open government

From open data to joined-up government: driving efficiency with BA Obras (Open Contracting Partnership)

AVAILABLE NOW! DEMOCRACY IN A PANDEMIC: PARTICIPATION IN RESPONSE TO CRISIS (Involve)

Designing digital services for equitable access (Brookings)

Data

Trusting the Data: How do we reach a public settlement on the future of tech? (Demos)

"Why do we use R rather than Excel?" (Terence Eden)

Everything else

The world’s biggest ransomware gang just disappeared from the internet (MIT Technology Review)

Our Statistical Excellence Awards Ceremony has just kicked off! (Royal Statistical Society)

Pin resets wipe all data from over 100 Treasury mobile phones (The Guardian)

Data officers raid two properties over Matt Hancock CCTV footage leak (The Guardian)

How did my phone number end up for sale on a US database? (BBC News)

Gendered disinformation: 6 reasons why liberal democracies need to respond to this threat (Demos, Heinrich-Böll-Stiftung)

Opportunities

EVENT: Justice data in the digital age: Balancing risks and opportunities (The LEF)

JOBS: Senior Data Strategy - Data Innovation & Business Analysis Hub (MoJ)

JOB: Director of Evidence and Analytics (Natural England)

JOB: Policy and Research Associate (Open Ownership)

JOB: Research Officer in Data Science (LSE Department of Psychological and Behavioural Science)

JOB: Chief operating officer (Democracy Club, via Jukesie)

And finally...

me: can’t believe we didn’t date sooner... (@MNateShyamalan)

Are you closer to Georgia, or to Georgia? (@incunabula)

A masterpiece in FOIA (Chris Cook)

How K-Pop conquered the universe* (Washington Post)

Does everything really cost more? Find out with our inflation quiz.* (Washington Post)

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moccahobi · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Raining Sharks Part 1 [TaeGi]

Summary: A sharknado! They’re real! Follow surfer Tae, badboy Yoongi, drunk Jimin, and intelligent Namjoon as they try to survive!

Genre: Sharknado AU, Horror (if you count sharknado as a horror movie), action, angst,

Warnings: Gore, Excess alcohol use, grossly incorrect use of sharks, smoking, cussing, blood, a few sharks eat people, sharknado, guns, major character death

WC: 3.7k

A/N: This is for @thebtswritersclub‘s monthly prompt! This month is monsters! And... @aroseforyoongi wanted a sharknado au! So... BOOM! And I am activly working on a part 2! And is also my submission for the Taegi square for @btsholidaybingo!

Happy screams filled the cloudy skies as adults and children alike were running and playing along the soft sand. Frothing white waves crashed in the surf, people riding on top of them with concentrated faces. Despite the cloudy skies, it was a clear day and the lifeguards on duty were spread out on their perches, relaxing and taking the job easy.

One of them, a caramel skinned man with deep purple hair and classic red lifeguard swim trunks on was even reading instead of doing his job. A slender finger pushed his round (and very dirty) spectacles back to a secure spot on his nose, the pair seeming to slide down endlessly in the heat of summer. Every once in a while, he raised his eyes and looked around the beach slowly to make sure that everything was ok and when everything was ok (as it always was), he went back to reading.

Next to the reading lifeguard was a good looking brunette with sharp eyes and strong brows sprawled out on a rainbow beach towel, his other supplies sitting in the sand next to him. He’d been training for the past hour, his small speedo gently cupping and accentuating his body while allowing him to tan almost every part of him. Once he felt like he had been tanning for long enough, he got up and started to apply more low spf sunscreen. Through thick brows, the brunette checked out the lifeguard, his pink tongue momentarily peeking out and running across his lips, a small mustache and goatee framing them. The lifeguard didn’t notice or didnt care.

Once the sunscreen had dried, the brunette took out a wetsuit from his duffle bag and got suited up, his board resting just a little ways away. Once suited, he picked up his board and ran off to the water. Silently, he looked back at the lifeguard to see if he was watching. His eyes were glued to whatever book he brought with him.

In reality though, the water wasn’t nearly as safe as everyone thought it was. Rough skinned, mangled fanged sharks on their migration path south were passing by the beach. Blood thirsty and hungry, they could easily mistake a swimmer or surfer for a tasty snack. Yet as long as they didn’t breach, no one seemed to pay notice of the stalking swimmers as they leisurely patrolled from below, looking for a quick meal. One of the sharks wasn’t too stealthy though. It breached the surface of the water and its fin caught the attention of one of the working lifeguards. Very quickly after the fin was spotted, lifeguards were blowing their whistles, putting up a red danger flag and helping to get people out of the water. None of the sharks even had a nibble before the waters were cleared of people.

Shortly after that, the purple haired lifeguard was back to reading his book and counting down the minutes until he could clock out and drink at the nearest bar. He had forty five minutes left. At the parking lot was the brunette, now in an unbuttoned hawaiian shirt (his chest was on display for all to see) and blue board shorts. He’d begrudgingly trekked back to his car after the red flags were raised, upset at only catching one good wave. The only thing that could have made his day worse was if it rained. That would completely ruin his plans of drinking a smoothie and relaxing in the sun.

The sour stench of cigarette smoke drew his eyes up to a somber looking man in dark blue skinny jeans and a black leather jacket, his lips loosely puckered around a cigarette. He took one last drawl before throwing it on the ground and snuffing it out under chunky black boots, a wink shot at the surfer as he did so.

Slowly he licked his lips and gave the brunette a once over, “I’m Yoongi.”

“I’m Taehyung.”

“Would you want to have a drink with me?”

“Sure.”

“Now?”

“Sure.”

“Well then… sure.”

Yoongi started to walk towards the closest bar as Taehyung quickly locked his car and ran to catch up with the gloomy man that he felt an attraction to. The two of them walked to the bar in silence, Yoongi focused on getting a drink in him and Taehyung struggled to find something to talk about. Once seated at the bar, Yoongi ordered two scotches.

“Oh. I don’t drink. I’ll have a sprite though!” Taehyung told the bartender.

Yoongi grunted, “How come?”

“I don’t like feeling drunk. Plus I don’t find most alcohol tasty.”

“Makes sense. Alcohol is an acquired taste. I remember not liking it when I first had it.”

“And you like it now?”

Yoongi snorted, “Yeah. Otherwise I wouldn’t drink it. Getting drunk is fun and all but I want to enjoy what I drink as well.”

While the two continued to talk (after finally finding something to talk about), the purple haired lifeguard came in, finally done with his shift, the man making a b-line to one of the bars regulars and a long time friend: Jimin. He had pastel pink hair that made him stick out like a sore thumb in the bar and always reeked of vodka… even when he wasn’t at the bar.

“They say a hoard of sharks are coming this way. Should we be scared, Doc Namjoon?” His words were slurred and he looked over at Namjoon with hooded eyes as he downed another shot of vodka.

Namjoon snorted and rolled his eyes, “Of course not, Jimin. What the hell kind of conspiracy theories do you watch? Most sharks are completely harmless to humans. Some even really enjoy human interaction.”

“I watch really really…” Jimin smacked his lips, “Good things. Like three am documentaries on the… science channel.”

“Wow. You must be so smart!”

“I am! Like… I read one about… WOAHHH! You wouldn’t believe it,” Jimin giggled and grew animated, “A fucking tornado that… it… it sucked up sea life and took it allllll on land! It was… insane!”

“Sounds like a conspiracy theory. Or someone who doesn’t understand how nature works.”

“It’s true though! I promise!”

Namjoon snorted and gently patted Jimin’s shoulder, “Sure, buddy, and the movie The Meg is written about a real live event. Megalodons are totally real.”

“Well now you’re just being mean. Who's to say that sharks can’t be sucked into a tornado and survive?”

“Logic.”

The two of them settled into a comfortable quiet, Jimin watching the nearest tv and Namjoon reading his book. The bar animated and alive as people celebrated a good day and relaxed after a hard day. Occasionally one could hear the loud laughs of a good conversation from Taehuyng and Yoongi, the two seeming to have hit it off well. The life in the bar suddenly stopped when the walls around them started to creak and groan, high winds pushing against them angrily. The only noise that one could hear was the newscaster on the tv talking about a tornado warning in the area.

Namjoon sighed and shook his head, turning to Jimin and speaking, “Whelp, you can’t drive and we should get somewhere safer than the beach so… come on up, Jimin.”

“What?! Namjoon, we have had so many tornadoes, why would this one possibly be different?” Jimin complained, grabbing the bar stool he sat on nonetheless and following behind Namjoon.

“The fact that you haven’t been hunkering down is alarming.” Namjoon sighed and shook his head, not even paying mind to Jimin trying to steal the bar stool.

Before they even made it halfway across the bar, something heavy hit against one of the bar walls and shook the whole establishment. Everyone stilled as Yoongi slowly got up and looked out the window but aside from the grey skies of an approaching tornado, there wasn’t anything they could see.

WHAM!

Yoongi ducked down quickly, narrowly avoiding a whole shark as it came flying through the window, its tempered glass shattering into millions of small cubes. The thing flopped around angrily biting at anything and everything it possibly could. People anxiously jumped out of the way and ran towards the exit, even the bartender abandoned his post to leave the building. Yoongi was the first of the four left in the bar to reach, him grabbing one of the stools and jabbing it furiously at the shark with an angry yell. One of the dull legs of the seat punctured the sharks rough skin as blood spurted out from around it.

Yoongi stabbed the shark a few more times, a grunt leaving him as he did so before the shark eventually stopped snapping at its surroundings.

“WHAT THE FUCK! THAT WAS A FUCKING GREAT WHITE THAT-” Namjoon couldn’t believe what he just saw.

A great white shark was flung through the bar’s window by a tornado.

“A SHARKNADO! I TOLD YOU IT COULD HAPPEN!” Jimin yelled happily, climbing over the bar to grab the entire bottle of tequila.

“Wha… what the hell?” Taehyung muttered, anxiously looking at the shark as if it was about to come alive again and kill him.

“It’s ok Taehyung. I will protect you. You have a big car right? I don’t think it would be safe for me to ride my motorcycle home.” Yoongi asked, turning his attention to Taehyung and trying to comfort the shocked man.

Taehyung could only focus on the blood splatter on Yoongi’s face as he silently nodded, opening and closing his mouth anxiously as he tried to formulate more words.

“E-excuse me?” Namjoon spoke up suddenly, interrupting the tender moment between Yoongi and Taehyung and blushing as he did so, “Y-y-you probably don’t know me but I see you around a lot and I drank too much to be able to drive right now and,” He looked over at Jimin who was cuddling his chair as he nursed the bottle of tequila, “My friend is not in a state to drive… could you drive us to a safe place too? I promise we aren’t bad people!”

Yoongi coughed and gave Namjoon a once over, clearly not liking the idea.

“Namjoon, right? We’ve talked a few times. You’re the lifeguard who never actually works.”

Namjoon nodded.

“Sure… you can… just please make sure your friend doesn’t vomit in my car.”

At that the four of them cautiously exited the bar before making a run (well as fast of a run as possible with Jimin) as people around them panicked and sharks were crashing into various objects. Namjoon even watched in horror as a large goblin shark crashed into his beloved lifeguard tower and started to eat the wood! Goblin sharks never got this close to shore, let alone on it! What type of craziness was this?!

By the time that the four of them had managed to get into Taehyung’s car, a fucking megamouth shark plowed through the bar. A gnarled brick and wood pile laying where the bar once was.

“WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK! THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING! THIS ISN’T LOGICALLY POSSIBLE! TWO DEEP FUCKING SEA SHARKS JUST… WHAT THE FUCK!” Namjoon was yelling, tightly holding onto Jimin in fear as he looked out as flying sharked swallowed people whole.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, DUDE?! DON’T LEAVE- HE’S LEAVING THE CAR WHY IS HE LEAVING THE CAR?!” Namjoon continued to yell as Yoongi ran to his motorcycle and grabbed his concealed gun.

“Woah. Yoongi, I don’t know about having a gun in here.” Taehyung said quietly as he cautiously eyed the gun that Yoongi clasped tightly.

“Taehyung, how else are we going to fight these sharks? We don’t have another stool… other than… What’s your name?” Yoongi leaned back and looked at Jimin who scoffed and said his name.

Taehyung sighed and shook his head before he started driving, quickly trying to drive away and avoid the flying sharks. Before their car could even get a mile, a large wave crashed over them and pushed Taehyung’s car almost half a mile away from where they had started. It shook the car violently and they could hear some sort of things hitting his car with loud THUMPS and THWAKS as water rushed by them. For the four of them, it felt like the moment was going to last a lifetime (and possibly be their last), but it only lasted half a minute before they had stopped moving, maybe an inch of water coating the ground now.

When the waves finally did stop, the car was dead silent, Yoongi having instinctively grabbed Taehyung’s hand and Namjoon fearfully holding onto Jimin as he looked anxiously out at the car.

Taehyung looked down at Yoongi’s hand and blushed, gently intertwining their hands before he looked around. He couldn’t be sure from the sharks squirming around the land and biting at everything in their path, but he was fairly positive that at least one of the things that hit their car was not a shark. Carefully he surveyed the road now in front of him. There didn’t seem to be any real dangerous things in the road that could pop one of their tires and with that in mind he once again started to drive, the car silent and tense.

Of course none of them were prepared for what was to come. No one in the entire city would ever be prepared for the monster that the tornados had seemed to conjure up. The tornado seemed to suck up a beast that was more ferocious and scary than any of the other ones combined. And it was angry. Very angry.

Above the water, a water filled tornado had already made its way on land, spewing sharks every which direction that were causing mass destruction. From the tornado itself consuming whole buildings and leaving rubble behind to sharks flying angrily through the air and consuming anything that got in their paths before eventually dying from a lack of air, nothing and no one seemed to be safe.

“All I am saying is that you often see these waves come in bouts of three… the last of which is always the strongest. If you really want us to get to safety, you need to put the pedal to the medal, Taehyung. I don’t want to be around water by the time the third wave comes.”

“I get that, I really do, Namjoon… but the cops here are ruthless. I don’t want a ticket. Natural disaster or not, I don’t want my record being tainted.”

Namjoon scoffed as Yoongi shook his head with a light smile, “Don’t worry, Namjoon. I’ll protect us.”

“With your gun?! Are you crazy dude!? There are literal fucking sharks eating people whole and the water tornados! You really think a gun will do shit?”

“Totally. Plus, we can always stop somewhere and get extra stuff. I am pretty handy. I’ve dealt with sharks a ton in the past.” A distant look crossed Yoongi’s face, his mind clearly off in a distant land.

“Hey Namjoon?” Jimin mumbled from Namjoon’s embrace (who was still using the poor drunk like a stress ball), “Do you think that we’re going to die?”

“What? No, no. We won’t die, Jimin. Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. We’re going to survive.” Namjoon punctuated what he said with another squeeze of Jimin before he finally let go and seemed to grow his composure.

“We probably want to actually think about where we are going… instead of just generally going inland.”

“Hmm… I was thinking that we could go to the inland. Like the part of town.” Taehyung said, anxiously tapping his steering wheel as he maneuvered around sharks.

“Taehyung.”

“Yes?”

“The inland isn’t actually inland… you know that, right? It’s literally half a mile from the beach! Just slightly north!” Namjoon started shouting angrily.

He opened his mouth to keep yelling at Taehyung, another harsh wave crashed into the side of the car. From the force alone, the windows shattered and from Taehyung’s reflexes with driving, the car suddenly stopped. Jimin, who forgot to put his seatbelt on, went flying forwards and roughly hit his head against Yoongi’s seat before falling limply in his own lap. Namjoon on the other hand, was once again screaming, salty water filling his open mouth as he looked into the mouth of a large bull shark excitedly swimming into the now broken passenger window. In the rush of the wave continuing to pass through the car, a new, redder liquid started to merge. By the time the car passed, everything (and everyone) was coated in a faint pink color.

Once the wave had passed the car, Taehyung and Yoongi were left staring back in horror at the bloody and half eaten body of Namjoon, their minds rushing to process what had happened. When Taehyung’s mind finally caught up, he immediately rushed to leave the car, his fingers stumbling to unbuckle himself and unlock the door before leaving the car with a strangled cry and budding tears. By the time Yoongi had left the car and reached Taehyung, the man was hyperventilating and crying. He hadn’t known Namjoon well but the two of them talked every once in a while and he never wanted him to die. Hell before he met Yoongi (and if things with Yoongi didn’t work out), Taehyung was still playing with the idea of asking Namjoon out.

Yoongi shushed Taehyung quietly and gently wrapped Taehyung in a hug, the soft gesture seemingly uncommon for the stiff man. The two stayed there for an unknown amount of time before a scream from the car changed their attention. Jimin was clambering out of the broken car window, his eyes wide with fear before they landed on Taehyung and Yoongi.

“Were you fuckers going to just leave me in there?!” Jimin yelled angrily, walking over to them and wiping the fresh tears off his face.

“Sorry, Jimin.” Taehyung looked down sadly, “I was shocked too… I… Fuck. This is such a scary time. I don’t know what to do.”

“We need to go to a gun store. That is what we need to do.” Yoongi said calmly.

“What?”

“A gun store. We need to go get more guns. The wave ruined the only gun I had.”

“We need to get to safety! That is what we need to do.” Jimin yelled again, “Namjoon said so!”

“And how can we get to safety without a gun?! We can’t use your fucking barstool to keep sharks at bay.”

“You used a stool before.”

“Guys…” Taehyung’s weak voice interrupted them with an uncertain wobble, “Can we please get a move on and not fight? We can find a store that sells guns and some other things… I don’t want to be here here or without something somewhat protecting us from any more waves.”

Yoongi looked over at Jimin as if to ask if that was ok before the three of them started walking along the road, neither of their electronics working. They were forced to walk along the road and take the first exit. At one point the three of them climbed up a tree at the edge of the road and waited for another wave to pass as wind dangerously whipped at their faces, hoards of sharks rushing past. They didn’t risk climbing down until all the sharks that were left in the area by the wave had passed. In the sky, they could see a tornado angrily throwing sharks left and right almost 100 miles ahead of them. None of them smart enough to notice that they couldn’t see its position change… which meant that it was on a path right to them… none of them observant enough to notice one specific, ancient looking shark that was angrily twisting and turning in the tornado. Somehow they managed to make it to an almost completely abandoned parking lot in front of a run down Hilton Hotel, one large, lone truck.

Yoongi stopped and eyed it, Jimin distractedly meandering ahead and Taehyung waiting for Yoongi to say something, “We should steal it.”

“The… the car?”

“Yeah. We won’t make good headway on foot and we can’t easily guess when another wave will come. It would be safer.”

“It’s illegal, Yoongi.”

“It would save us time and protect us from another wave, Jimin.”

“The last car didn’t protect Namjoon.”

“This one has larger wheels though. And it protected us during the first wave.”

Before Jimin had any chance of arguing more, Yoongi tried opening one of the doors before grabbing a rock nearby and smashing one of the rear windows open to unlock one of the doors.

“Well now that one of the windows is broken how will it protect us!” Jimin yelled angrily before going off on a rant as Yoongi worked on hot wiring the car and Taehyung floundered between the two.

He had no idea what to do or what was better but as he anxiously looked at the still tornado, he knew he didn’t want to be outside for much longer and quickly climbed into the shotgun of the car. With a breath of relief from Yoongi, the car reved to life and Yoongi buckled in.

“Well?” Yoongi looked over at Jimin who was angrily standing a solid ten feet away and gripping his barstool tightly, “Are you going to get in or is this where we part ways?”

“I will not take part in illegal activities. A natural disaster or not. If you’re smart, Taehyung, you’d join me.”

Taehyung anxiously looked between Jimin and Yoongi, both of which were looking at him and waiting for his decision. What was he supposed to do? This was a matter of life and death… surely it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he did a few illegal things to stay alive… but did he want that hanging on his conscious?

With one anxious look back at the tornado… which… somehow… seemed to look a little close, he resolutely closed the door and buckled in a small “Sorry.” leaving his mouth before Yoongi drove off, leaving Jimin in the dust, his frame getting smaller the farther they went.

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