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camslightstories · 4 years ago

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It’s not that easy

Alex Danvers x Reader, Maggie Sawyer x Reader, Sanvers x Reader

Notes: Hey guys! How are you doing? I finally finish this request which took a lot of me but here it is. I really hope you guys like it and I’m sorry for being so inactive lately!

My inbox and messages are always welcome for everyone so just text me to chat anytime! I wanna heart your requests, opinions, theories, questions and more!

Request- anonymous

Taglist: @captain-josslett @aznblossom @multi-images

The Department of Extranormal Operations was often overwhelmed by silence, people knew what they had to do and they did. No one in the right mind wanted to deal with the director, Alex Danvers in any type of situation. The black lead walls made the building feel safer even though there were at least a hundred elite trained agents walking around it.

The long led lights on the roof illuminated the room. A three target sheets at the other end of the roof. Various pads around your body protect you in the training. A table in front of you with different sharp objects of all sizes.

The difficulty you had as you started to concentrate on the training after your new powers started to show up. Your mind now was invaded by thoughts that took control of you. Pressure in your mind as your telekinesis started to show up in the most unexpected moments and unfavorable moments.

Sometimes the things you wanted or thought about would land in your head or back, leaving marks or pain around your body, you remembered how you got some of them but not the others. And as one of the new recruits on the DEO instead of being on the field regularly, you were on the tech and backup side beside Winn earning the trust of the group.

Most of the time your moves were uncoordinated and clumsy and it got worse every time you would catch the side of a certain director or detective. Your focus was lost completely when you realize the couple entering the room hand by hand with Supergirl and Winn, not so long behind.

Failing to begin obviously you caught both of their glances making them smile, and when you were about to return a smile when a cup flew straight into your nose. The red liquid dripping from your nose and upper lip was now covering your hand as you clutched it in your face trying to relieve some of the pain, only making it worse as it stung.

You were so distant in what was happening in front of you, that you didn't notice when the couple ran in front of you with concerned looks on their faces. Until a soft hand caught your jaw tilting it up carefully as they watched the wound. You stood in shock as you felt the closeness with the director’s girlfriend, observing every small detail of the Latina.

Her brown eyes squinted in concentration, you couldn't really compare them chocolate, or your favorite espresso shot, they were hypnotizing without any other thought. She was biting the inside of her cheek, as her eyebrows came together when she focused her attention on you. Small dimple in her cheek as she focused on you, her hair dropped from her shoulders with small highlighters at the end of it. The small little freckles around her nose popped out every time she would scrunch her face in concentration. And every little detail was there, and you couldn't help but memorize them.

Your eyes turned away when you felt the first burn in your face, immediately crunching your nose as a reaction to the discomfort making the couple laugh softly. Your face had moved so fast as you heard the laugh of Alex Danvers for the first time, it was soft, addicting, and combined with her girlfriend’s laugh unforgettable.

Maggie claimed as she kept holding your face with the stuffed alcohol cotton in her hand. Her tone with gentleness and a hint of control, you didn't even protest since your focus was on hoping there was not an evident blush on your cheeks.“Y/N, you need to stop doing that adorable thing while I clean the wound up, okay?”

“Sorry” You murmured under your breath as you felt a stare, looking to your side to find the DEO director watching you intensely with a spark in her eyes. A spark you couldn't identify even if you tried, there was something odd about it. It did not hold anger, jealousy, or any negative feeling but uncertain like if she was wearing her feelings on them. You didn't even think twice before apologizing looking up to the ceiling immediately, hoping for the moment to end.

The redhead director asked when her girlfriend finished helping you. “That's it, agent Y/L/N. How are you feeling?”

“Fine, good- great. Thank you” You rambled out immediately standing straight up in front of her with difficulty as you did thanks to the various pads around you. Averting our eyes from them, only to find the superheroine and her friend containing their smiles.

Alex and Maggie looked at each other as you ran out of the situation the moment your name came out of Winn's mouth. Your blushed cheeks never disappeared as you helped the brunette man and neither did the small smile in their faces when you subconsciously would steal glances from them immediately looking down when they caught your glance.

——

The tension of the room was thick as you and the rest of the new recruits stood listening to the Director Danvers orders. Your undivided attention was on the redhead woman as she spoke, only shifting your glance when the redhead stared back at you discreetly.

Even when you tried to now lose focus when she spoke, you found yourself zoning out as you stared at her. Some of the important details remained in your head as for the rest, like when people say it ‘in one ear, and out the other’.

You found yourself being called out by the director before the rest of the recruit walked out of the briefing room, your hands fidget with themselves as you stared unsubconsciously at the redhead while she did the same. Quickly noticing the director started, your eyes widened in embarrassment for a second making her tilt her head questionably.

Adorable.

You thought and before realizing it she smiled blushing furiously at you. You started to shift in your feet when she started speaking. Her voice sounded different, it wasn't the same tone she would usually use in the agents, it had a hidden sense of corner and care and you couldn't help the butterflies in your stomach as she spoke.

“I will like for you to be with me and the rest of the Supergirl team during this mission”

You stared at her wide-eyed as the words fell out of her mouth. You nodded quietly as you felt your mouth go dry, the anxiety creeping inside of you as she dismissed you. You couldn't help but deliberate on the fact that your boss and the NCPD detective are well aware of your immense crush on both of them.

Your thinking of the different excuses you could make up when they would ask about your attraction, or your falling for them was interrupted when you ended up crashing into something harshly in the training room, falling face-first into the floor. Groaning at the throb of your head, you murmured harshly to yourself. “What is next to a fucking mat?”

The moment you realized the words fell out of your lips, it was already too late. The blue mat had already hit your side. You kept silent before getting up, throwing the training mat directly into the wall in annoyance. Cursing your powers as the pain inflicted by your misunderstood words and thoughts was now getting irritating.

And certainly didn't help that you couldn't get out of your head, certain couple. Their smiles, their laughs, their little details on their expression or attitude when they are focused on something, or the way their eyes light up at the mention of motorcycles, guns, or pool.

You couldn't get enough of them. And as much as you tried and tried, falling every single time, you couldn't get them out of your head. You knew the moment they found out about your attraction to them was going to be just like the rejection in movies, you begin rejected, and get heartbroken once again.

——

Kara stood beside her sister, hands-on her belt, biting her lip in a way to suppress her smile as she looked at Winn. Winn looked at the Danvers Sisters before speaking, explaining the options for the mission without letting go the teasingly open remarks to the redhead and the Latina, every time your name would come up.

Alex would immediately blush and tell the brunette to shut up, while the Latina kept quiet, shaking her head at the group antics. Every once in a while the couple shared a knowing look with a small smile, and when they did Kara would make a teasing remark to them.

“Golly, you guys got to get your crush under control” Kara claimed quietly so only the couple could hear, ignoring the blonde both of them turned to glance at you when the Brunette technician had called you.

“It’s not that easy” both of them murmured staring at you.

You stood beside Winn as he gave you various things for the mission, a mind control shield that for you helped control somewhat your powers, which he called the ‘de-tel control’

And as the brunette technician talked to you, you felt a glance on your back. Turning around you saw the Latina and the redhead snapping their heads immediately to their side with blushed cheeks. You looked at them questionably before turning back, and as you did the faint whispered from Kara caught your attention “And you say I'm the oblivious one”

Ignoring it, you kept your attention on the technician explaining what you were going to have during the mission. But a certain gut feeling didn't let you understand half of what Winn had said.

——

You stood beside Kara in front of the warehouse door, your hand reaching for the alien gun, Winn had given you under restricted rules. The heroine scanned the place only to shake her head because of the lead walls, while you stood at her side listening to Winn through the comms explaining what the scans signals were giving out.

The moment the blonde gave you the first sign to move inside with her you activated the ‘de-tel control’ at the side of your head. A small beeping sound invaded your ear, coming directly from the shield, ignoring it you kept registering the place with precaution. When the couple announced in your ear that they had arrived you couldn’t help but smile as the two sisters annoyed each other.

Neither of you guys could find something in the Warehouse after checking the place. The Director of the DEO looked annoyed as she spoke in her earpiece directly to the technician while Kara and Maggie wandered around checking everything again. You stood at the side scratching your head as the throbbing pain in your head began to fill in.

You kept quiet as the frustration began to fill you, with the pain in your head it felt almost impossible to concentrate on the mission. Walking to one of the sides of the warehouse where lines of shelves were, you stared at a solemnly black box on the first shelf, and as you did the pain on your head increased.

The pressure of the shield didn’t really help, it felt like someone was pressing a gun to your head and the frustration didn’t really help. You were about to take the thing off when the red-headed Danvers appeared at your side, a hidden smile in her face as she talked to you, rambled to you specifically.

“Y/N, how are you feeling? It seems as we arrived too late, but Winn is running more scanners to determine if there is something we missed, it's really nice-...great for you to work with us, Agent Y/L/N”

Kara and Maggie staring at the two of you curiously with a small smirk and a beaming smile. Both of them frowning seconds after as they stared at you worriedly. You were about to ask for the sudden change when the racking pain overwhelmed your head, you didn’t register the moment you felt into your knees crying at the ripping pain.

You felt as if you were underwater as the oxygen inside of you started to leave your system. You hear the familiar voices distantly, so far away to reach for help. Your vision went blurry as you felt your body giving in.

Alex had knelt down next to you, calling your name out various times. Her hands went to grab yours as you gripped tightly your hair, crying out of pain.

The redhead didn’t register the moment her girlfriend and sister stood beside her with the same worried expressions. Kara stared at your hands carefully as Maggie and Alex tried to make you let you as you hurled yourself unconsciously. Noticing the beeping light at the side of the device on your temple, she didn’t hesitate to take it out as fast as she could without hurting you further.

The pain had slowly calmed down, the beeping sound on your ear now stronger than ever made you turn to where the black box stood. Your mind seemed to concentrate on the box and the sound, you couldn’t hear what they were saying, somehow the pain had gone away but the feeling of being underwater stood stronger than ever.

The black box flight directly into the wall cracking it open revealing the items inside, the heroine immediately determined the same beeping sound before yelling into her comms. “We have a bomb, Winn!”

The blurred voice through the comms invaded your ears “That’s what triggered the device and Y/N pain! You guys need to get Y/N out of there now!”

“I can turn it off, get Y/N out of here” Kara claimed to look at the couple.

You felt two arms lifting you up in bride style before you felt the exhausting feeling gaining over you, everything seemed to barge in your senses before your blurred vision became black.

——

Alex and Maggie sat at the chairs beside your bed. Worry expressions on their faces as they did. The med bay had been cleared out by the Director the moment they arrived, the redhead with you unconscious in her arms walked in, immediately checking you herself. Kara had arrived shortly after, stopping Winn from coming into the room and explaining what had happened to you.

The blonde knew the moment her friend would walk in saying he may have not tested your shield and didn’t think of protection against bombs, the least he was going to receive from the couple was a punch or maybe two.

And even after all she couldn’t help but smile at the crushing of the couple, it had been a few weeks since they had revealed it to her and she has been teasing them nonstop. With their nonstop talking about you, the social media stalking, the long looks, and the special caring treatment they would give you every time you were around.

Alex and Maggie both looked like kicked puppies staring at you with worry and nervousness as laid on the hospital bed wired into various machines. Neither of them had left your side after 36 hours of you being out.

The first thing you registered as you slowly opened your eyes was the bright white light on top of you, and the thirstiness on your throat. Sitting up still adjusting to your surroundings you reached for a table, wanting to drink water.

You didn’t register the couple on the chairs until the cup of water on the table was brought out without the right instruction, showering all of your head with it.

You cursed without thinking when you started to rub your eyes only to be cut off when a teasing voice made you know you had actually said it. “Fucking-”

“I had no idea someone could sound so adorable cursing” The Latina woman claimed with Alex by her side.

You blushed before clearing your throat trying to hide your embarrassment as you spoke. “Hey”

“How are you feeling? We have been worried sick” The redhead said as she grabbed your hand carefully, scared of you pulling away.

“I’m...” You started only to stop when the Latina grabbed your left hand, in the same way, her girlfriend had done.

“Great, good, amazing” You stumbled in your words as the butterflies in your stomach began to move rapidly, so fast you felt your heart on your ear, and by the looks, on their faces, they had registered by the rapid beeping of the monitor.

——

You walked down the hallway a few hours later with the basic sweats from the DEO. The butterflies in your stomach hadn’t left since the bed moment with your crushes and certainly didn’t help the fact that every time you would look at them, they seem to increase.

The loose grey sweatshirt helped you hide your hands in the long sleeves, as you walked anxiously out of the med bay. But before you could go downstairs to grab your things and go home for the ‘rest’ you needed which Alex had ordered. Two voices behind you made you turn out as fast as you could.

“Y/N!”

With your heart in your sleeve, and the anxiety in your chest you gave the couple a small smile before speaking, a tone higher than your regular voice. “Hey guys”

The two of them furrowed their eyes before shaking their heads simultaneously, you looked at them worriedly only for them to reassure you with smiles. Before anything else could happen Maggie spoke up, fidgeting with her hands as she did.

“Y/N, we like you… like a lot and we were wondering if-”

Finished Director Danvers “You would let us take you on a date?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and your cheeks blushed completely as you stared at them lost of words. The couple shifted in their feet awkwardly waiting for your response, as you kept quiet the Danvers woman started to speak again nervously looking at you.

“And if you don’t, then that's completely fine. We understand and we never wished-”

Cutting the redhead speech you beamingly smile at them. “YES!”

You cleared your throat as you watched them giggled at your response before straightening your back before responding again. “I would love to, I mean”

They nodded and told you, they would pick you up by 7 at your apartment. You walked away almost bouncing in your with butterflies moving incredibly fast in your stomach and your ears full of your beating heartbeat.

And without any surprise, months after you couldn’t help but fall more in love with your girlfriends. And somehow the strong ear-filling heartbeat and the butterflies on your stomach never left.

#supergirl imagine #alex danvers x reader #maggie sawyer x reader #sanvers #sanvers x reader

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guessimwritingficsagain · 4 years ago

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Delightful, chapter One (Javier Pena x reader)

Paring : Javier Peña x reader

Warnings : none

Author's note : I wanted to write an 'ennemies to lovers' with Frankie but he's so soft that didn't work so here we are.

------

It’s not that you hated Javier Peña (Jesus, you wondered how many women thought that very same sentence everyday).

You had met him one busy night during your first week on the job. He’d been polite, had even introduced himself and explained :

‘I’m a regular, might as well know me by name.’

He’d even asked for yours. But the moment your co-worker Carla had stepped behind the counter he had completely switched and had reduced her to a giggling mess in two minutes flat. She’d been putting a brave fight, though, she’d explained to you later. He’d been hitting on her for weeks but she’d resisted, afraid it would be a one night thing.

She had been wrong about that, because when she had finally given in, it had become a regular thing.

She had been wrong about that but had never stopped to ask herself if he’d wanted more than sex. When she’d asked him, though, she hadn’t liked the answer, not one bit. Except he hadn’t stopped coming in, even bringing some friends with him, some blonde dude who looked really American and a woman - his wife, probably.

Try moving on when the guy you wanted to get serious with keeps showing you at your workplace.

So, Carla, yeah, she’d lost ten pounds, taken the day shift, and taken to call you at three in the morning to cry (you guessed she didn’t have that many friends because you certainly weren’t friends with her but she called you anyway).

Which left you to work with Diego, and you couldn’t stand Diego.

So, maybe, you hated Javier Peña a tiny bit.

And there he was, sitting on a barstool, nursing his second whiskey. The place was mostly empty, so you couldn’t avoid noticing how he kept frowning at the liquid like there was something wrong with it. You didn’t ask, though. You always kept your interactions polite and to the point.

After a while, you felt yourself distracted by the music, your actions more a force of habit, automatisms without any real thoughts behind them. You were brought back to the present, though, when Peña asked Diego how Carla was. And Diego being Diego, answered, loud enough for you to wince :

‘Ah. Fucking awful, if you ask me. Got fucked up by some dude. Poor girl looks like shit, now. Shame because she’s fine and I’d fix her broken heart, if you know what I mean.’

Peña had the decency to look a bit remorseful but Diego, oh, Diego kept going :

‘I offered, once, but she looked down on me. Now, though ? I bet she regrets…’

You slapped him with a tablecloth and got real close into his personal space.

‘I swear if you finish that sentence I’m gonna make sure whatever’s down there can never get up again. You’re a pig, Diego. You talk that big talk but you probably can do shit in bed so stop. I don’t need to hear it.’

‘Cállate, gringa. That stick up your ass must be a real pain.’

And Peña, brave, nice, chivalrous Peña, had to speak up, of course :

‘The lady has a point. Carla was nice. Shit, she is nice. I wanted to check on her, I don’t need to hear you gloat because she wouldn’t let you get some. Use your fucking right hand if you need to, but I don’t need to hear that shit.’

Diego’s face lost all previous friendliness when he turned back to Peña.

‘Whatever, man. But you know, stepping in for the lady won’t get you to score with her.’

He stopped himself there, but you could tell that whatever was on the tip of his tongue would have been really unpleasant to hear. Diego left the counter and went to do whatever. You didn’t care.

You should have stepped away and gone back to whatever it was you were doing before but Peña was looking at you and you had to deal with stuff like that on a daily basis because Diego only ever talked about women and fucking them good and you had enough. So instead of choosing the smart option, you leaned in, hands on the counter, shoulders square, and explained :

‘I can handle myself. I don’t need you to do that, especially considering you’re the one that fucked Carla all up.’

‘Listen, I’m sorry about that…’

‘I’m not the one you should be saying that to.’

‘I don’t need to talk to her. There’s nothing to say. It was a misunderstanding.’

He looked frustrated now. And if he were somebody else - anybody else besides Diego - you’d stop giving him crap, because you got it. Sometimes, people get into things, get into sex and don’t stop thinking about the other’s expectations. The fact that Peña never took her to a fucking restaurant or shit should have been a warning in itself but he could have made himself clear from the very beginning. Could have said it was all about making his dick wet.

But he didn’t, and now you were stuck with Diego and annoying phone calls in the middle of the night. And you felt bad feeling that way about Carla, but you clearly hadn’t had time to really connect and you weren’t a free shrink.

‘If you got nothing to say to her, then don’t come around asking about her.’ You spat.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a tiny little voice mentioned that you were being a tiny bit unfair but it was a fleeting thought that you shoved right back where it belonged : in your trashcan of denial.

Peña downed his drink, then, and got up, slapping money on the counter and said, all sarcasm but, you found, no real bite behind it :

‘Thanks for a delightful evening, my lady.’

You watched him walk away. Yeah, it wasn’t that you hated him.

———

You could see the appeal, you admitted to yourself one evening when Peña was there, sitting down with Connie and her husband and another woman.

You hadn’t gotten the other man’s name but Connie had come to you, one night, more than slightly buzzed and had chatted your ear off as you were making the drinks. You’d found her endearing so you’d asked for her name.

There was no doubt that woman was getting into Peña’s bed and you hoped she wouldn’t end up like Carla, calling someone at three in the morning to sob about him. You hoped he’d taken his lesson and was straight with the women he had encounters with.

You could see the appeal, the moustache and the too-tight jeans, and the way he slightly touched her shoulder, the way he gave her all of his attention, the way he laughed, eyes crinkled and that fucking dimple.

It was a slow night, okay ? It was a slow night and you were bored.

‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer.’

You turned to see Emil smiling at you, and you playfully swatted his arm. He was a new addition to the team - and a welcome one, at that. Turned out that Diego had gotten into the habit of fucking women in the restroom and you had the privilege to catch him, once. What would have been a traumatizing experience became much more because your boss hadn’t caught the fact that you were going to the restroom and was following you to tell you something. So you’d seen Diego into action (and that was never going in the trashcan of denial, no matter how hard you tried to shove it in there), but your boss, Ricardo, had seen too.

So, no more Diego.

You were delighted.

Even more so when Ricardo had asked you to be part of the recruiting process. You had been surprised, at first, but he’d said :

‘I have three daughters, and I have two women who work for me, I don’t need men like Diego around.’

Very progressive, all in all. But you were glad.

Back to the moment, away from the image of Diego slamming into a woman (she had been faking, you knew, and telling him that right before he left had been awesome), you quipped back :

‘I don’t even like him, trust me, I’m just bored.’

And that was only partially false. You were bored, but not liking Peña was more of a force of habit than a real thing, now. Carla had found out she was pregnant - not his - so she had quit and, well, let’s just say you didn’t get angsty phone calls in the middle of the night anymore.

Peña walked right to the counter, then, and Emil, with what you’d just said, went to get the order but Peña was looking right at you and talking to you so you went with it. As you were handing the beers, you couldn’t help but ask :

‘She knows you’re gonna fuck her into oblivion but nothing more, right ?’

His eyebrows shot up, and the smirk on his face told you you’d just said the wrong thing.

‘That confident in my abilities, heh ?’

You shook your head and deflected :

‘You know why I said that.’

He put the booze down, at that, and actually sat at the counter.

‘How’s the baby ?’

You jumped in surprise, at that, because you didn’t know he knew and you’d never thought he would care. He picked up on that, too, because he scoffed :

‘Come on, I know you think I’m an asshole but Carla was good. She was nice. I keep tabs, that’s my job.’

‘Your job ?’ You couldn’t help but ask.

He played with one of the beers, then, thumb brushing one of the bottles up and down. You looked away, not liking one bit what was happening in your belly.

‘That’s a story for another time. When you like me, or at least tolerate me. I’ll get you there.’

He got up and walked away and you remembered

You hated Javier Peña.

It didn’t sound quite genuine anymore, and you were fooling no one, given the look Emil shot your way after that, but you held onto that anyway.

———

Your parents had never approved of you moving to Colombia because your Spanish is good, sweetheart, you don’t need to do that, you don’t need to make it perfect but you needed out so you’d gone anyway.

Now, though, sitting in a room in the DEA quarters, shaking, you weren’t so sure about your life choices.

You’d been getting home when you’d seen, turning a corner, a man pointing a gun at another, on his knees. You’d backed off immediately, you stupid brain not smart enough to get you to run away. You hadn’t seen anything, but you’d heard. And that had gotten you to the DEA.

You’d been stupid, really, because you’d heard the gunshot, you’d heard a car driving away but instead of taking a detour or something, you’d looked. And the man lying there with his brain all over the pavement was not going in the trashcan of denial anytime soon.

So, you were shaking, and the door opened and you flinched and then you saw

Javier fucking Peña

‘I guess that answers that question about your job, then.’ You joked, but he didn’t bite.

He kneeled right in front of you instead, hands everywhere, and that was comforting, but the flow of questions was a bit overwhelming too.

Did they see you ? Is there a chance they saw you ? Are you hurt ? Want some water ? Murphy, give me some fucking water right now !

You tried telling him you were fine (you weren’t) but he kept fussing.

They brought you some water, you answered some questions, and at the end, the very end, when it was just Peña and you, he spat :

‘I can’t believe you go home every night on foot. Don’t do that. Stop. I swear if I have to come get you every night …’

‘I’ll be fine. It’s fine. I’ll get someone.’

You were lying : you lived stupidly close to the bar, so it didn’t make sense to drive there. And even with what had happened, it still didn’t make sense to do it. So you lied.

Then you got a few days off, doctor’s orders, and when you came back to work, that first night, as you were ready to head back home on foot as always, Javier Peña was waiting outside the bar. Before you could say anything, before you could find a way out, he declared :

‘Get in the car. I’m taking you home.’

Chapter two

#Javier Pena #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Pena x you #narcos #delightful

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shipping-receiving · 4 years ago

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“Is there a chance you won’t be okay?”

An Analysis of Hwang Si-mok and Han Yeo-jin’s Final Scene in Stranger/Secret Forest Season 2

Alright, it’s been almost a week, I’m still crying every time I re-watch this scene, and somehow I’ve written 3,500 words about five minutes of this damn show, so here we go:

As with Stranger/Secret Forest Season 1, Si-mok and Yeo-jin’s final scene in Season 2 ended with a farewell meal, complete with soju. On a very basic level, this meal felt significant in a season where Si-mok was subject, more than ever, to interrupted meals or meals he didn’t particularly want to be present for – at least until he was able to have a drink with Yeo-jin in 2x12, and then lunch with her in 2x13.

More importantly, though, this scene is the most loaded scene we’ve ever witnessed between these two characters. That’s saying something for such a nuanced, detail-oriented show, in which two people placing their phones in a storage locker at a detention centre can possess such emotional weight, particularly when played by two actors who make very subtle and sophisticated acting choices.

I’m struck particularly by the way this scene bursts with subtext – things unsaid and unresolved – when Lee Soo-yeon could just as easily have written a neater, more light-hearted exchange that reaffirmed their connection, more along the lines of their final scene in 1x16. There are a thousand other ways their farewell could have been presented to us that would have given a greater or at least a more comfortable sense of finality, even taking into account their character development over this season. This lack of resolution is evident not just from what happened during the scene, but also when the scene happened within the episode itself. The meal occurred after Yeo-jin had been bullied by her colleagues, but before she met her new boss – at this point, it seemed to the viewer that her promotion would likely bring not the pride she experienced in S1, but more challenges and isolation.

More so than the Seo Dong-jae cliffhanger, this scene makes me think that this was written with a future Season 3 arc in mind, one in which Si-mok and Yeo-jin’s relationship will continue to evolve and deepen substantially (whether that will be ‘romantic’ remains to be seen). Considering they’re the core partnership of this series, there was a deliberate withholding of stability in their farewell, rather than an affirmation of it. I won’t go so far as to say destabilisation – because despite their separation, I think their bond is more profound than ever – but at the bare minimum an absence of certainty, when it could have been written otherwise.

Anyway, on to the breakdown:

The scene opens with Si-mok carefully folding a napkin and placing cutlery on it for Yeo-jin, a simple gesture of care that Cho Seung-woo plays with a startlingly gentle attentiveness. Immediately, it signals that there’s been a shift in Si-mok – how he’s able, at least with Yeo-jin, to do something that isn’t just polite, but also thoughtful. The director even snuck in a little clue that Si-mok is thinking of Yeo-jin as he’s doing this – Yeo-jin actually appears at the left side of the frame from the start, as the camera pans over to Si-mok:

In this shot, Si-mok is visually separated from Yeo-jin by a pillar. This could be read on the one hand as a kind of sectioning out of his mental space – a visualisation of his thoughts of her as he prepares her cutlery – and on the other hand, as a foreshadowing of their impending separation. (I do, however, enjoy the first interpretation more. It reminds me a little bit of her sketch of the inside of his head from 1x06.)

Back to the napkin: if you look closer, Si-mok didn’t fold a napkin for himself – his spoon and chopsticks are on the table next to his bowl – so this isn’t just a matter of neatly setting the table for their meal. In a very small way, he’s anticipating her needs, just as she has done with him in much more demonstrative ways in both seasons (helping him with his headaches being the most obvious one). This isn’t something he’s necessarily actively worked on in the past two years; he’s still the person who doesn’t instinctively say ‘hello’ over the phone, or ask after someone’s kids without being reminded. Yet, it’s a capacity for care that has expanded significantly, at least where Yeo-jin is concerned.

Compare his behaviour with the equivalent scene in 1x16 – back then, he only ordered a bowl of noodles for himself and not for her. Interestingly, Yeo-jin’s comment to Si-mok during that part of the S1 scene was, “Gosh, you haven’t changed one bit,” suggesting that he was, by nature, somehow unable to be considerate to someone else. Just from the opening to the S2 scene, we see that that comment is not or no longer true, at least when it comes to the way he acts around her. In both the S1 and S2 scenes, he was the first person to arrive for their meal; in S1, the first thing he said was, “Why are you late?” and had already ordered his soju and noodles. This time, however, Yeo-jin asks him, “Why didn’t you order something first?” – implying that although she was late again, he was patiently waiting for her to arrive.

There’s also a difference in the way he responds to her appearance. Now, I personally don’t think we can frame Si-mok’s connection with and care for Yeo-jin in conventional understandings of romantic attraction (which is not to say romance isn’t possible for them canonically, I just think it will manifest differently). Nevertheless, I’d say that he responds to her haircut in a way that is probably as close to the mechanics of attraction as we could possibly expect from Si-mok – not just the shock of “oh, you cut your hair,” but lingering looks and nostalgia for when they first met; nothing at all like noticing that she’s wearing lipstick and saying, not so kindly, that it looks weird. In fact, in a direct parallel to this moment in 1x16, Yeo-jin asks him if her haircut is “weird”, and he says, “I just meant it’s different.”

(I think the way he stares at her is not wholly due to being ‘transfixed’, but also because he’s trying to figure out what such a drastic change means, and why now, and whether he has to worry. Basically, his brain is trying to compute; part of his stare is him trying to analyse her behaviour, just as part of it is him revisiting his memories of her from two years ago, and part of it might well be an attraction he doesn’t quite understand or know how to reel in. He does stare at her for an inordinately long time.)

Switching over to Yeo-jin, I really enjoy this little routine of hers when they have meals together – how she narrows down options for him to a series of questions, and even helps him decide on occasion. It never feels like she’s trying to speak for him, but rather that she knows his likes and dislikes. Her question in this scene – makgeolli or soju – is phrased like her question in 2x02, when she asks him to choose between stir-fried octopus and hot pot; when she specifically requests a lot of cabbages, she must be thinking of how he ate lots of them in 2x12. This kind of care comes naturally to Yeo-jin – we’re talking about the person who took in a murder victim’s mother in S1 – but it’s still a form of intimacy, and one that Si-mok is clearly used to as well.

Soon, though, we have our first indication that things might not be so comfortable – not in the sense that their bond has weakened, but that there are fundamental shifts occurring in both of their lives that affect this bond. Si-mok, after a lot more staring, points out that her short hair reminds him of when they first met. (He wouldn’t have needed to take that much time to come up with that simple observation, which makes me think he was trying to choose his words carefully.) With enthusiasm, Yeo-jin responds with, “I haven’t changed a bit, right?” – echoing her comment about Si-mok in 1x16.

Perhaps Yeo-jin had meant this comment sincerely in the moment, but given context, her cheerfulness feels performative. We’ve just witnessed her crying after being bullied by her colleagues, in contrast to the warmth that she enjoys with her old Yongsan team; we’ve observed her changes – a result of maturity, disillusionment, a loss of innocence – throughout the whole season. In fact, she seems to have cut her hair precisely because she feels weighed down by all that has unfolded, just as one might after a break-up or some kind of painful life event. It’s a decision that seems to say: I acknowledge that everything has changed around me, but maybe doing this will make me feel like myself again, or the ‘myself’ of two years ago.

Si-mok, of course, isn’t quite so able to agree that she hasn’t changed. Multiple times this season, he’s observed the changes in her – “You don’t draw these days?” in 2x06, “Didn’t you want to work in police administration?” in 2x08, “You weren’t the kind of person to postpone things.” in 2x12. Now, he doesn’t respond to her question, and instead looks at her in silence, smiling only ever so slightly when she shakes her head playfully (and we know that she can make him smile wider than that). Perhaps he’s even choosing to withhold any judgment of her. But this is a moment, I think, that factors into his decision to ask her that question at the end of this scene.

Next, we have confirmation that Si-mok was the one who asked Yeo-jin out for dinner, just as he had in 2x02 once he’d settled into his new posting. It isn’t clear in 1x16 if it was Yeo-jin who’d asked to meet Si-mok when she found out he was being posted to Namhae, but it’s been affirmed twice this season that he prioritises this time with her (even more so than meeting his own mother). Then, he breaks the news to her that he is leaving for Gangwon Province this weekend.

In 1x16, Yeo-jin finds out that Si-mok is leaving from the special investigation team, without Si-mok being present. At the time, they still think he’ll be sent to the US for training, and Yeo-jin is visibly disappointed. She has the same crestfallen look on her face in this scene, in front of Si-mok. She doesn’t want to be separated from him, and when she asks about his cases, it seems she’d expected him to stay for quite a while longer to see them through. Mind you, Wonju is only about 1.5 hours drive from Seoul (yes, I mapped it), but Yeo-jin still looks like she’s had the rug pulled from under her. Perhaps, in an uncertain time, she’d hoped that Si-mok would be in her life more than the few weeks he’d spent in Seoul.

Yeo-jin’s responses in both 1x16 and 2x16 are a pretty big indicator that she has feelings for Si-mok (whether she’s aware or willing to acknowledge those feelings is another matter). I suppose one could argue that her reaction is simply out of sadness at the thought of being separated from a friend, but based on certain events in S2 – for example, Choi Bit questioning Yeo-jin about her relationship with Si-mok, and Yeo-jin deflecting – I think the viewer is at the very least meant to question whether their bond is truly ‘platonic’. This isn’t the type of show to include superfluous details just to tease their viewers, and in any case, Si-mok and Yeo-jin’s connection has only deepened through the course of this season despite being on opposing sides of the council. It feels like the emotional stakes are much higher this time than back in S1.

As Yeo-jin is absorbing this news from Si-mok, there are a couple of little details here that feel significant to me, but could be nothing: first, the way Si-mok half-holds out his hand as Yeo-jin is pouring her soju, just as he’d held out his hand when she was pouring makgeolli in 2x13. Second, how she pours out a cup of soju for herself first, but not for Si-mok. In any other situation, it might seem impolite – after all, Si-mok is the one who’d chosen the drink – but here it seems that she’s pouring a drink to steady or busy herself more than anything, and she doesn’t drink from it till after their toast.

Following this, Yeo-jin confides in Si-mok that “I never thought the council would end like this. [...] Will the higher-ups be replaced with more honest people while I’m catching bad men out there?” When he replies with, “Why are you talking as if those two are the same?”, it’s yet another of his probing questions, questions she never seems to have an answer to. The Yeo-jin of old would never have assumed that all the higher-ups are dishonest – she has always seen the good in people – but she feels betrayed by Choi Bit, the one person she sincerely respected. Here, she changes the topic rather than opening up, reverting to her most comfortable mode of showing care for someone else by asking Si-mok why he looks so tired. It’s a guardedness that we’re not used to seeing from Yeo-jin; when Si-mok met with Choi Bit at the start of the episode, he describes Yeo-jin as someone who “opens up easily”, even if she doesn’t “blindly trust or respect just about anybody”.

While Yeo-jin is evasive, Si-mok is more willing to be vulnerable in comparison. His openness isn’t surprising, given that Si-mok has shared more about his life and thoughts with her than with anyone else, but it is still heartwarming to see. Instead of brushing off Yeo-jin’s comment, he tells her about his dream of the prosecutors from the Western Office. For anyone else, this might not seem like a significant conversation topic, but for someone who hardly ever dreams (which Si-mok mentioned in S1), it feels like he’s sharing something special with her. This dream, and his factual recounting of it, seems to be a means for his brain to process the traumatic events of two years ago.

Before Si-mok tells Yeo-jin about his dream, there’s a quick insertion here – a lament about seeing your boss in your dreams – that suggests that she is still troubled about Choi Bit, more than she’s letting on. Again, Si-mok doesn’t push her to elaborate, though I think he’s been absorbing all the things that seem off with Yeo-jin since she arrived. Yeo-jin proceeds to analyse his dream in her head, but doesn’t verbalise her interpretation (that Yoon Se-won might be considering suicide, since he went off in the same direction as two characters who have both passed). As she’s deep in thought, Si-mok tilts his head questioningly at her; she says that he probably won’t have time to go anywhere else this weekend, implying that she was thinking of bringing him with her to visit Yoon.

Knowing that Si-mok won’t be able to come with her, however, leaves Yeo-jin resigned. As she announces, “All right, then,” I wonder if this is the moment that she’s choosing to steel herself. The two people she treasures and respects most in her life (Si-mok and Choi Bit) are disappearing from it, and she will have to learn to move forward without them.

Now, we come to their toast. In the corresponding scene in S1, their toast is bittersweet, but has a sense of resolution; upbeat piano music plays in the background as Yeo-jin says, “Goodbye, I won’t be able to see you off,” while Si-mok echoes that with, “Good luck in your new position. Sorry I can’t attend the ceremony.” In S2, the music is quieter, and much more sombre – I’ve been describing it in my head as ‘breathy sad wooooo music’ – even as Yeo-jin laughs and says, a little helplessly: “It feels like we keep repeating this.”

Si-mok, on his part, doesn’t even echo her laugh with anything more than the barest smile. Instead, he says, with a deep sincerity: “Take care, Senior Inspector Han.” As I mentioned earlier, there are many ways that they could have written or played this scene to convey even a little more resolution – choosing different music, or having Si-mok smile along with Yeo-jin, or even giving Yeo-jin a bit more notice of his departure so that she can prepare a gift (as if to say, she doesn’t draw as much these days, but she would for his sake). But the viewer is made to feel all of their reluctance, even sadness at this separation, even if those feelings are hidden beneath pleasantries. “Well, I guess I’ll be okay,” Yeo-jin says, as if there’s a possibility that she won’t be – that this is something she has to recover from in the future.

Si-mok considers her words, her phrasing, her demeanour, tilts his head at her again and says: “Is there a chance you won’t be okay?”

This, above all other lines, shows how much Si-mok has grown in the past couple of years because of Yeo-jin’s influence. Whereas he started S1 cold, guarded, and isolated from the rest of his colleagues, he has arrived at a point where he has cultivated enough of an emotional sensitivity to ask her this question – to show her care, just as she has shown care to him and other people around her. I’d even venture to say that Si-mok feels, himself, that there’s a chance he won’t be as okay with their separation as he might have been two years ago. In 2x05, during the conversation with Seo Dong-jae outside the prison, Dong-jae asks Si-mok: “You don’t feel a tad bit sad even if you’re sent far away, do you?” Si-mok answers, “No.” That doesn’t feel so definitive anymore. There isn’t anything either Si-mok or Yeo-jin can do, given that they both prioritise their careers and understand that these careers follow a certain trajectory, but parting feels a little bit harder this time.

Yeo-jin answers Si-mok’s question as reassuringly as she can, with an adorable smile and shake of the head; she lets out an “ah” after she downs her soju, as if to reorient herself. Yet, her cheerfulness in the rest of the scene – her excitement at the food, her over-enthusiastic chewing – rings empty as the sombre music continues to play in the background. For perhaps the first time in the entire series, there is something about Yeo-jin that seems feigned. Strangely, it is Si-mok’s blank expression that represents the more authentic emotion in this scene – communicating the very resignation that Yeo-jin must be feeling inside, beneath a facade that might read as comical in any other context.

“Is there a chance you won’t be okay?” is, in fact, the last thing that Si-mok says in this whole scene, despite quite a few more lines of dialogue from Yeo-jin. The way he looks at her for the rest of the scene, though, is charged with meaning. It seems to say: ‘I don’t really believe that you’re okay, but I’m going to give you space because I can tell you don’t really want to talk right now.’ It’s not as if Yeo-jin hasn’t confided in him before – their phone call in 1x15 was especially intimate – so it’s not that Si-mok is incapable of listening to her. Still, he respects her choice to deflect, and continues to observe her closely while ignoring the pajeon, even leaning forward right at the end of the scene. This very overt concentration on her is something we’ve never really seen from Si-mok before; even in the rooftop scene in 2x06, which is probably the most loaded scene they share after this one, they’re standing beside each other and rarely make eye contact. Here, his focus on Yeo-jin is palpable.

As much as this scene felt heartbreaking to me (thanks breathy sad wooooo music), it actually left me with a lot of optimism for the development of their relationship in the future. Lee Soo-yeon has said that she has enough material for five seasons of the show, and while I’m not so sure we’ll get as many seasons as that, it feels like she’s pushed Si-mok and Yeo-jin out of their comfortable friendship – planting the question, “is there a chance we won’t be okay?” I wonder if we’ll see something quite different in the third season (which is apparently in discussion!), which surely won’t see them on opposing sides again.

I’ve been burned by enough ships that can potentially be read as ‘platonic’ to know that I shouldn’t hope for any overt romance, but Si-mok is such a unique character and has such a unique connection with Yeo-jin that I’m hopeful that their relationship could be deepened with nuance, even if it doesn’t become romantic in ‘recognisable’ ways. (I have other thoughts on his asexuality/aromanticism that I won’t get into here.) It’s precisely because their connection is built on mutual trust, respect, and understanding that it remains so compelling, and I think this scene promises growth, and some resolution, whenever we see them next.

#tvn stranger #secret forest 2 #stranger 2 #stranger #hwanghan

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fiveviktorklaus · 4 years ago

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am I picturing the umbrella academy as a soulsborne-esque video game where all of the hargreeves have been “corrupted” and you have to defeat them to get them to return to their normal selves? yes. yes, I am. anyway, here’s how I’d see the fights going:

(putting this under a cut because - phew - I kind of got into detail with some of these! why can’t I design video games????)

luther: tanky as hell. you have to fight him at range or he’ll just mow you down and toss you around like a ragdoll. his boss stage is inside of the academy and is tough because you’re fighting him in narrow corridors where it’s hard to create the space you need to fight him at range. he has a lot of health, so the key defeating him is patience, timing, and dodging so he hits the environment around you. it’s safe to say that the academy takes a lot of damage from it’s number one in this fight.

diego: fight takes place out in the city on a rooftop at night. unlike with luther, you don’t want to put too much distance between yourself and diego. he WILL win if you give him any opportunity to start sniping his knives at you. close ranged combat can also be tricky because he knows how to hold his own in hand to hand as well. you can try your hand at beating him fair and square, but ultimately this will be a gimmick fight that you can easily win by doing a side quest earlier in the game (back at the academy where you fight luther) where you are given the option to destroy grace. if you do, you can remove her head and throw it at diego during his boss stage. he will stop fighting and collapse in despair, giving you the opportunity to defeat him.

allison: fighting her is unique because - unlike with diego and luther - you will not be facing her directly. running straight up to allison is a TERRIBLE idea. she will rumor you. you will lose. every time. you don’t run right up to medusa and look her in the eye, do you? no! this stage will be more of a stealth mission than anything else. you will navigate your way through her arena (a movie set) and try to get the drop on her so that you can take her out. this can be particularly challenging as allison will have rumored several people to patrol and guard the area. don’t get caught!

klaus/ben: you’ll be fighting them, naturally, in a cemetery. and by ‘fighting them’, I mean that you’ll actually have to get through a full level of zombies and ghosts just to get anywhere near the two. once you finally reach klaus, the real fight begins! he will summon ben to defend him, which will make the fight incredibly, incredibly difficult. the trick to this fight will be wearing klaus out so that he has to take breaks in between summoning ben. it’s during those breaks that you jump in and attack, retreating to cover whenever ben appears again and tries to dismantle you with his tentacles. eventually you’ll win the fight and - when you do - klaus, now returned to his true self, will stumble off to find his other siblings.

five: want to fight an annoying boss? LOOK NO FURTHER. after finding a briefcase that teleports you to the commission (in which you will have to get through a level filled with agents and assassins), you’ll finally run into mr. five. this fight will be hard and you will probably die multiple times trying to beat him. the key to defeating five will be learning his patterns and timing because (a) he is quick (b) he hits hard and (c) he fights dirty. once you beat him (after, you know, crying your way through several deaths and respawns), you’re given the option to offer him a cup of coffee that you find earlier in the game while exploring. if you give him the coffee, he will gladly accept and will actually (hooray!) join you as an ally for the final boss.

vanya: welcome to the icarus theatre! are you ready to get your ass kicked? good! because this is where we find vanya all dressed up in her fancy suit! she (and the suit) look perfectly normal at the start. if you brought five along with you, he will engage as a distraction so you can attack whenever her back is turned. vanya will strike with sound waves and occasionally launch various objects at you. ouch. if you try to get too close, she will attempt to perform a grab attack that drains the life out of you if you get caught. this is almost always a one shot kill, so let’s avoid that! with some coordinated teamwork, you can and will take vanya down. while fighting vanya before, the music was sort of soft and eerie. as you approach her to check in after taking her down, you’ll notice that the boss health bar (which was just depleted) has suddenly refilled itself and vanya’s name on top of it has shifted to THE WHITE VIOLIN. a boss fight? with two stages? well, fuck. remember that eerie music before? it just shifted in volume and is exploding with sinister instrumentals (I like to imagine it being to something like ludwig, the holy blade). vanya, who is now transforming into glowstick mode and has upgraded her already edgy suit to Super Edgy White Suit, will wield her violin and will launch even larger sound waves at you that take up nearly the entire arena. sometimes she’ll fly up into the air and charge up particularly devastating sound wave attacks, only to slam into the ground towards you and unleash them in a circle around her. another attack? her bow. she can literally slice you in half with that thing, so it’s a good idea to avoid when she swipes it at you. the white violin is a very, very aggressive boss who rarely gives you space to breathe, so you’ll really have to take advantage of having five around for this part of the fight. this is the only fight in the game where playing it safe is punished, so be ready to strike hard and fast if you wanna take down the white violin!

the umbrella academy as a video game in general would be great. get on it, gerard!

#I....am a big soulsborne fan basically #also I just beat demons souls whoo!#vanyas fight is definitely majorly inspired by lady maria #and I kind of wanna gif this somehow hmm

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svnflowervol666 · 4 years ago

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Paper Peonies (70′s crime boss!Harry x fem!Reader)

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: violence, death, other than that she’s squeaky clean! (nervous laughter)

Author’s Note: Yes, this is inspired by that one part in Tiger King and no, I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had this scenario stuck in my head for a while (and by a while I mean March aka I am slow as hell to get shit done but I digress), and that combined with my obsession with the show Good Girls is where this fic blossomed. This is obviously set up to have multiple parts, so I hope this is enough to draw you in for what happens between Harry and Y/N after this! Take care and TPWK.

April 22, 1977 ~ New York City

She had always been suspicious of what Harry did for a living. His clothes were nice, the lapels of whatever color suit he’d decided to wear that day were always pressed with the upmost attention to detail and she’d never once seen even the tiniest scuff on his loafers. The chocolate brown curls on top of his head, no matter how dishevelled they appeared to be, always looked intentionally messy as if each wild strand had its own position to uphold. He never missed a nail appointment, and Y/N knew this because she always smelled the faintest hint of acetone trail behind him after his cologne with notes of sweet tobacco and ginger each time he entered the flower shop where he worked. Everything about his presence led her to believe that Harry was important man, but she hadn’t realized just how influential he was until tonight.

Harry visited her once a week. Every Wednesday for the past six months at precisely one o’clock in the afternoon, the wind chime attached to the door at the store entrance would announce his arrival. He always ordered a custom bouquet, the most expensive option in their catalogue, and always insisted that Y/N be the one to make it. She had creative authority over which flowers went where, which colors to use - “Whatever your pretty little heart desires,” as he would tell her as he smirks behind his amber tinted sunglasses. He always tipped, no matter how many times she told him this was a flower shop and that she didn’t work for tips, and he always plucked the prettiest, freshest flower out of the bouquet and handed it back to Y/N. He'd drop the flower into the display vase at the register if she refused the gesture, and other times he’d tuck the stem right behind her ear, caressing her cheek in the softest manner to intentionally fluster her. Harry knew she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, as he’d come to know her just as well through the small talk they made during each one of his visits, which is why it amused him so much to see this girl, kind and short-tempered, freeze up at the slightest touch of his fingers on her skin.

Y/N knew he was a man with a routine, which is why she grew inherently worried when one o’clock rolled around and Harry had yet to show his face in the flower shop. She wasn’t sure why she even cared so much; he was only a customer. Sure, he was easy on the eyes and always flirted with her and it was just about the only form of male interraction she’d come across throughout the entire time that she’d known him, but that was all he was - a customer. So, to busy herself and her thoughts, she’d scrubbed the countertops a few more times than necessary and paid far too much attention to the arrangement of pots and vases for the rest of her shift.

It had all happened so suddenly.

At first, she had been giving the shop its final sweep before closing. The gentle singing of the wind chime made Y/N curse under her breath. We close in ten minutes, why the fuck are you here? But her irritation soon turned to relief when her eyes met his - Harry’s. He graciously apologized for being late, though he had no reason to. She didn’t even ask him what she wanted, only going immediately to work on the bouquet she’d been planning out all day in her head for the next time she saw him.

One minute, she was chatting him up and playfully giving him a hard time as she always does, and the next, she heard the unmistakable sound of gun shots and she was being shoved underneath the cash register by Harry and told to “Stay there, and don’t fucking move until I come get you.”

She isn’t sure, but she thinks she’s went into shock because she can barely see and although she can hear glass breaking and the strangled voices of two men going head to head, but it all rings faint and distant in her ears. Her knees tuck impossibly close to her shoulders as she hunches underneath the counter in imminent fear that whatever or whoever is out there creating an ungodly amount of damage is coming for her next and out of all places, her unproductive, measly life would come to abrupt halt in a fucking flower shop of all places.

It could have been five minutes, it could have been hours, but there’s a lingering gun shot proceeded by a harsh thud that she somehow hears through the ringing in her ears and she can sense that the quarell had ended. She scurries backward into the tan wood when she hears footsteps approaching her, too scared to even look up because she’s convinced that she’s next.

“Y/N...Y/N? Y/N!” she comes to when she realizes that it’s Harry shaking her wearily by the shoulders.

“Where’s the phone?”

There’s caked blood around his ringed knuckles, a thin trail of crimson liquid running down his temple and his cheekbone rears an ugly cut that’ll certainly take weeks to heal, but he’s seemingly unharmed aside from the few casualties on his face.

“What?” she asks, still in a daze and utterly confused as to why he’s asking a question like that at a time like this.

“Tell me where the phone is.”

His voice is stern and if she’s being honest, it scares the shit out of her because if Harry is still alive and well, she’s not so sure that the other guy is.

“O-over by the broom closet.”

“I’ll be back in a second. Whatever you do, stay here and do not look over the counter,” is all he says before disappearing from her view.

She tries her hardest, she really does, not to eavesdrop on the conversation Harry is having with whoever is on the other line of the phone. He’s speaking in whispers and so low that it’s almost undetectable, but she hears bits and pieces.

“The flower shop on Main Street...It’s fine, I just need yeh t’ bring the boys here now...Yeh, there was someone else here but I’m taking care of it.”

That last bit is enough to send bone-chilling shiver down her spine. It kicked her fight or flight response into full gear, which has her scrambling to her feet ready to book it out of the shop to the nearest payphone so she could call the police. After all, shouldn’t she regardless? Given that a shootout just happened in the lobby of her fucking workplace. She moves to stand up, but a jarring sight over the counter she’d been hiding under stopped her.

A pool of blood, the most she’s ever seen, surrounded a limp body whose face was battered to the point of being unrecognizable laid on the ground in front of her. Her breath catches in her throat and she actually feels like she’s suffocating.

Harry did this. And all she could do was collapse right back on the ground where she had been hiding.

“Are yeh alright?”

His eyes are full of sympathy and a bit of regret when he returns, and hers are filled with frightful tears that Harry will hate himself for for the rest of his life knowing that he was the reason for.

“I, uh... I think so,” she’s able to squeeze out in between waves of panic.

“Good,” Harry says sternly, “Now, come on. I’ll take yeh home.”

If Harry was “taking care of it,” it being her, there was no way in hell she was spending more than another second alone with Harry.

“Who is that?” her voice is quiet but firm, and it’s what makes Harry realize that she hadn’t listened to him and had definitely peeked over the counter when he wasn’t looking.

He sighs in displeasure, eyes flicking towards the dead body in the lobby of the store and then back to Y/N.

“No one yeh need t’ worry about. It’s taken care of. Now please, just let me drive yeh home so I know you’re safe.”

“No offense, Harry,” she began, “But there is no fucking way I am getting into a car with you.”

“Y/N, just-” is all he can get out before she makes a beeline for the front door and is running as far away from Harry as she possibly can.

She makes it about two blocks down the now empty streets before her lungs give up on her. In times like these, she wishes she exercised more. Just as she’s catching her breath against the door of a closed bodega, begging and praying that Harry had lost track of her, she feels headlights coming up on her backside in the distance.

“Y/N!” It’s Harry, yelling at her from the driver’s side of a maroon Mustang.

“Just get in the car and I’ll explain everything.”

Not a fucking chance, buddy she thinks to herself. She gives him her sassiest side glare before resuming her fast-paced walk down the street.

It doesn’t deter Harry from creeping along the street to match her speed.

“Y/N,” he pleads.

“Fuck off, psycho” she mutters under her breath, but it’s still loud enough for Harry to hear.

“It’s 1977, Y/N! Do yeh know how many serial killers are on the loose right now? Get in the fucking car!”

He’s getting ansty now. Not only by her persistance to get away from him, but because of the fact that he knows whenever he looses sight of her, she’s going straight to the police and everything he’s built for himself will come crashing down on him. He never thought that his sweet, hot-headed Y/N would be his downfall.

“Why?” Y/N stopped abruptly and spun around on her heels to face him.

“So you can get rid of your witness? I’m good. Blow my brains right here out on the sidewalk, please. I’d prefer a junkie to keep my corpse company over the maggots in whatever hole in the Bronx you planned on throwing me in.”

“Christ, you’re impossible.”

Harry didn’t even bother saying that under his breath.

“Here,” he starts, reaching for the button on the glove compartment.

Using the dull, yellow street lights and infinitely glowing neon signs in the store-fronts of the buildings around her, she can see that he’s pulled out a pistol. It causes her to jump back a few steps, as if she hadn’t just politely asked him to kill her on the sidewalk in the first place.

“Fuck, sorry. Didn’t mean t’ scare yeh.”

Well it��s a little too fucking late for that.

He quickly unloads the cylinder and the clanking of bullets hitting his seat fills her ears. With a flick of his wrist, he presents the handle to her.

“Yeh can point it at me the whole drive. Please, just let me take yeh home so I know you’re alright.”

He seemed earnest and sincere, but based on everything that had happened to her in this short amount of time, she had come to realize that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to Harry.

However, in her brief stint on Earth, she’s decided that everything that’s happened to her thus far had been for a reason (as cliche as that seemed), and her gut was telling her trust him. After all, he had shielded her from the rainfall of bullets that more or less decimated the flower shop just minutes before.

She say anything, only yanking the gun from Harry’s grip and slamming his door shut.

“The brownstones in Bed-Stuy,” is all she tells him.

“Jesus, Y/N. We’re all the way in Chelsea. Couldn’t find a closer place to work? That’s a scary train ride home at night. Surprised yeh haven’t been kidnapped yet.”

“You know, you really shouldn’t say shit like that considering this is the first time I’ve spent longer than ten minutes with you and I’m sitting in your car.”

Harry sighs under his breath, cursing himself for freaking her out for the umpteenth time tonight.

He notices her struggling to load the bullets into the cylinder.

“Do yeh need hel-”

“I live alone in Brooklyn. I know how to fucking use a gun,” she snarls as the firing pin finally clicks into place.

“Alright,” Harry mumbles.

She shifts in the plush, leather seat, one elbow leaning out the open window as the other is tucked into her side so she can point the barrel of the gun right at Harry’s side.

“Okay, start talking.”

Rolling his eyes, he bangs the back of his head against the head-rest. He winces as soon as his scalp makes contact with the seat, momentarilly forgetting he’d gotten it slammed against the linoleum during the brawl in the flower shop.

“What do yeh’ want t’ know?”

“For starters, what the fuck happened at the flower shop?”

Harry feels like he’s sighed precisely nine hundred and thirty-one times tonight, but he’s somehow able to squeeze out another one before answering Y/N’s question.

“Did yeh ever meet the guy that lived above the shop?”

“Mr. Perry? He’s harmless. Why? Is that who was on the floor?”

Her sould hurt momentarily for the middle-aged man that she ocassionally crossed paths with when she’d open up the store in the mornings. He was never quite sociable, but he always tipped his hat to her when he saw her. Her boss had told her once that he always kept to himself, so she was never surprised that he never struck up a conversation with her.

““S not exactly harmless, Y/N,” Harry corrected her.

“We did...business together a few times. Found out he tried t’ cross me. Word must’ve got around tha’ I was looking for him, so I’m assuming when he saw my car outside the shop, he figured he’d take his chance t’ get rid of me.”

“What kind of business?” she deadpanned.

Harry hesitated.

“...Business,” he repeated.

The hammer of the gun locks into place, making Harry flinch and realize that he really fucked up by giving Y/N that gun.

“What kind of business?” she asks again, this time with a loaded weapon at her disposal.

“There’s...money involved. Lots of it.”

“So it’s illegal?”

“Most definitely.”

“Fine,” she decides that she probably doesn’t want to know anyway and moves on to her next question.

“You’ve been checking up on him this whole time? That’s why you come into the flower shop?”

Harry nods hesitantly, fingers gripping impossibly harder into the steering wheel.

She scoffs, laughing almost.

“So you don’t actually bring all of those flowers to your mother then? It was all just a ruse to keep your ducks in a row?”

Y/N isn’t sure why, but her heart broke over the notion that Harry didn’t come to the flower shop every week just to see her. Even though she acted like he annoyed her most of the time, she really was quite fond of him. I mean, anyone that’s seem the man would say the same. She never expected their relationship to flourish past light conversations about what flowers are blooming, but knowing he never actually cared was a different kind of disappointment.

“No,” Harry is quick to discount her assumption and he’s looking as serious as she’s seen him all night.

“I do give them t’ my mum.”

There’s a pregnant pause before he starts talking again.

“She died when I was ten. The cemetery’s only a few blocks away from the shop.”

Y/N feels like shit for pushing him, so she flips the safety clip on the side of the gun and allows it to fall limp in her crossed legs.

“Sorry.”

Harry’s sucks his lips into his mouth and shrugs his shoulders, letting her know that at least he knew she meant well.

“Okay,” Y/N draws out, her anxieties that Harry is going to take a detour to the nearest boat dock and throw her into the disgustingly unsanitary water in the dead of night rapidly dwindling away.

“Let’s say you do drop me off at my apartment. What’s stopping me from running to the police the second I get out of this car and telling them everything that I saw?”

Harry laughs sarcastically, readjusting the rearview mirror.

“Well, for starters, your fingerprints are on the murder weapon.”

“Fuck!” Y/N yells, kicking the gun out of her lap and letting it clank to the floorboard.

It was almost soothing. He knew it was only her reaction to realizing she could be held accountable for his crimes if anyone ever did find out about what happened, but the fact that she didn’t reach for the gun after that moment made him think that she trusted him in come capacity.

“And if that wasn’t enough t’ convince yeh, he was trying to start a human trafficking ring. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t really think someone like that deserves to roam the streets. Think the world is far better off without him, don’t you?”

Okay, maybe Harry had a point.

When she hadn’t said anything in a while, letting only the sound of the wind fill the space of the car, Harry turned to look at her. Though she had unhesitantly cocked a loaded gun at aimed it directly at his face just moments ago, he couldn’t help but take his eyes off of the road and let them wander around her features.

She really was beautiful. The way her hair was blowing with the speed of his car and how the each street post they passed glowed around her sillhouette like a halo was stirring something inside of him.

He had went into the flower shop for the first time, he was genuinely in search for flowers to place on his mother’s grave. He’d expected to be greeted by a frail, elderly woman with shaky hands behind the counter, not Y/N. She was stubborn and he could see the fire behind her eyes and with everything in him, he couldn’t place his feelings for her. Was it akin to a grade-school crush on the cute girl he sat beside on the bus? Was it sexual tension that was begging to be unleashed so he could really show her what he was capable of beyond the flirtatious touches and salacious smirks? Or was it something else?

“Think we’re here,” Harry broke the long stream of silence as the car rolled to a halt outside of her apartment building.

“Oh,” was all Y/N said, almost saddened by the fact that their interraction was reaching its end.

“I’d really appreciate it if yeh didn’t go t’ the police. I won’t stop yeh, but if yeh do this f’ me, I promise I won’t let anything bad happen t’ yeh anymore.”

His eyes looked sorrowful, like he had an inkling that she would snitch and help take him down. But there was another part of him that believed she wouldn’t.

“I won’t,” she whispered quietly.

Her fingers lingered on the wooden-coated handle as she turned to him.

“Why are you doing this?”

“This as in...?” he quirked his brow at her.

“Helping me. You could’ve easily just killed me in the shop to spare you the trouble, but you didn’t.”

A small smile broke out on Harry’s face, the corners of his perfectly-pink mouth turning up just slightly.

“Didn’t think I could make it more obvious, but...I like yeh. I care about yeh. Care about what happens t’ yeh. You’re a sweet girl. Yeh didn’t deserve t’ see all that.”

Y/N nodded, eyes zeroed in on the discarded gun and loose bullets that had been rattling on the floorboard the entire drive to her apartment.

“Thank you,” she whispered, almost undetectable but Harry heard her.

With this information on hand, she no longer believed Harry meant ill with anything he had done. Even murdering the man that lived in the studio above where she worked.

He cared about her. He cared about what happened to her. And that’s why she was still here.

As she reluctantly removed herself from the passenger seat and closed the door to the mustang that must have cost a year’s worth of her rent, she pivoted and leaned on the still-open car window.

“You know,” she started, her iconic, I’m-not-even-joking-in-the-slightest expression that Harry had come to know (and love) reared its head.

“You’re paying for all of the shit you broke. Those pots are expensive and the owner’s gonna blow a fucking gasket when she comes in to do payroll tomorrow.”

This earned a genuine laugh from Harry, loaded with more than she understood at the moment, but would eventually learn more about.

“It’ll look brand new in there come morning. Swear it,” he placed his hand over his heart for good measure.

“Goodnight, Harry,” she spoke softly, her lips mimicking the smile that was plastered on his.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

As someone that had witnessed and was now an accomplice in a brutal murder that took place where she worked, Y/N called in sick the next day. Her undeniable PTSD had made her violently ill with even the thought of going near the entirety of Manhattan. But alas, she had bills to pay and forced herself into the flower shop on Friday.

The second her coworkers heard the windchimes and realized it was her that had entered, they were quick to bombard her with what she had missed while she was out.

She was too busy being completely stunned by the sight in front of her.

The store was spotless. It looked exactly as it had the before “the incident.” No broken glass, no missing pots, no blood stains on the floor, and no body. It was as if Harry had never even stepped foot in the shop to begin with.

“Your guy came by looking for you. Left you a card.”

“Harry?” she asked, “Can’t be. He only comes on Wednesday’s.”

She momentarily mourned the brunette. Would he ever come back at all now that his “friend” was most likely chopped up into dozens of pieces and burried in a dump somewhere that no one would ever find?

“Real tall? Curly hair? Always wears those yellow sunglasses? Huge flirt with the mustang?”

Yep, that was him.

“It’s in the office,” her coworker added before going back to her task of sweeping up wilted petals from the ground.

“He’s a charmer, ya know?” she added.

“Seemed worried when I told him you were sick. It was kinda cute, actually.”

She was too shaken up to give her the embarrassed reaction that she knew she was waiting for, walking with purpose towards the back of the store where the office was.

Sure enough, in a beige envelope sealed with melted wax and her name written on the front in perfect cursive, was a letter. With shaking hands, she freed the expensive-feeling paper from the confines of the envelope and lifted it closer to her face so she could read it.

Thank you for not saying anything.

Thank you for trusting me.

I meant what I said about protecting you.

If there’s anything I can ever do for you, please don’t hesitate to reach out.

x, H.

p.s. Those pink pots were a bitch to replace. Tell your boss to stop buying product in fucking New Jersey.

And finally, written in jet black ink at the bottom of the stationary in Harry’s handwriting, was an address.

She knew she’d been there before, as the street name was notorious for being home to New York’s most bustling night clubs and dive bars, but she couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t until she’d asked her friend about it later that night over their Friday night pizza-and-beer tradition that she realized where the address would take her.

A strip club?

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #crime boss!Harry

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radramblog · 3 years ago

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Halo 2 is the most Two

According to a semi-reliable source (TvTropes’s Halo/Funny subpage), Halo 2 was once described by a Bungie PR guy as, and I quote:

“like Halo 1, only it's Halo 1 on fire, going 130 miles per hour through a hospital zone, being chased by helicopters and ninjas ... And, the ninjas are all on fire, too.”

2004 really was a special time, huh?

But I’d argue the thing that quote fails to mention is how much 2 is in Halo 2. Duality is a core theme of both the gameplay and story, and that’s something I’d like to highlight.

Not because it’s important. Because it’s fun.

Halo 2 is a game about two. Literally, in fact, as the story revolves around two protagonists, whom you switch back and forth between as the Campaign progresses. John-117, the Master Chief, hero of the first game, who spends 2’s opening moments being hailed for his achievements during the previous story. And Thel’ Vadamee, the Arbiter, background villain of the first game, who spends 2’s opening moments being publicly humiliated and tortured for his failures during the previous story.

This cutscene is very much intentional, it’s a cool parallel that sets up the twin stories of the game, but it far from ends there. Because Halo 2 is a sequel, it’s setting up a grander universe, one that began in the novels that released between the games. However, because the game is still a big-budget sequel to a smash-hit game effectively owned by one of the biggest companies on the planet, the game could never be as experimental or the story as interesting as the world suggested by said novels and lore.

So there’s a lot of twos. We see a second Halo ring in the second Halo game, which is confusingly named Delta Halo even though it’s the second one we see in the franchise. Also, it’s official Forerunner name is Installation 05, even though Delta is the fourth letter in the Greek alphabet, and the Halo from the first game was Installation 04…

Tangents aside. Twos. Ultimately the story is less two-ey than what I’ll get to in a bit, but there’s still some there. The second Halo comes with a second Monitor, and the first of the two Covenant Prophets that are encountered (and killed) over the story’s course. Two of Earth’s orbital defense platforms are obliterated in the first level, uhhh, two new major Human characters are introduced (Lord Hood and Miranda Keyes) along with two named Sangheili (Both the Arbiter and Rtas ‘Vadumee, as the Heretic Leader isn’t given a name in the game proper). There’s like, two real boss fights? I guess? Regret doesn’t fucking count.

I think I’m kinda grasping at straws so I’ll move into the gameplay, because boy howdy there’s where the twos really come in. While Halo featured both Human and Covenant weapons, Halo 2 was the game that defined them as two clear opposed factions- much like in a Strategy game, each has equivalent items to each other. The Battle Rifle and Covenant Carbine are both new weapons that add a mid-range option for each faction, as well as making up for the severe nerf to the Magnum. It’s now effectively paired as a sidearm with the Plasma Pistol, their deadliness largely confined to one half each of the Shields/Health divide the game uses for Multiplayer. The SMG replaces the Assault Rifle to better mirror the Covenant Plasma Rifle, and the Beam Rifle is introduced as the Covenant variant Sniper Rifle. The Energy Sword and Fuel Rod Gun are both now actually playable, serving as counterparts to the Shotgun and Rocket Launcher respectively. You get the idea. This somewhat carries over to the Vehicles, with the Covenant Spectre being introduced as a counterpart to the Warthog, though that’s the only new vehicle off the top of my head. Yknow, because I’m talking out my ass.

Oh, also this is the game where they put in dual wielding guns.

The campaign progression is also fond of its twos, if you ignore the first level. Two cutscenes (or, a cutscene and a tutorial+in-engine-cutscene+cutscene), the one we’re ignoring, Two Chief levels, Two Arbiter levels, Two Chief, Two Arbiter, then we actually alternate. Twice. Because why not.

Late into the game, however, there is somewhat of a shift in this dual natured game. The Great Schism occurs in the plotline, as the Covenant Civil War begins, and a second Covenant faction breaks off after having been betrayed by its leadership. There is, in fact, a third Prophet in the form of Truth, who survives the game (but not the sequel). There is also arguably a third protagonist for this extra faction, but not one we get to play as- the game’s final boss, Tartarus, leader of the Brutes, and head of the Covenant military once the Schism occurs. This third faction adds a new weapon, the Brute Shot, the sole weapon in the game not in the style of the gunmetal-black UNSC or the typically colourful and gleaming Covenant armoury- the Brute Shot’s dull muddied grays and browns and wicked bayonet a reflection of its wielder’s personality. The two story paths of Halo 2 run alongside each other before meeting and splitting off following the dramatic introduction of the Gravemind.

This is a reflection of the true nature of Halo 2, as the final product strayed farther from the initial vision than many are aware of. There’s a little known fact these days that the Halo trilogy wasn’t meant to be a trilogy, with 2’s planned story extending into what would become the majority of the third game. 2 was supposed to end at the Ark, with the death of Truth, with the revelation of the truth of the Forerunners and the end of the war.

But things change. Halo 2 spent a lot of time in development on an engine that wasn’t practical for the game they were trying to make, so much of the time was wasted. Add in a hastened Christmas release date, and you get the abrupt finale and cliffhanger that is Halo 2’s story. This isn’t to say that the game is bad, far from it, but it had potential to be so much better. Like the endgame of its plot, Halo 2 could have also been Halo 3.

I’m going to be honest, I thought I had a lot more tangible points to hang on to when I started writing this than I actually did. Much like my last Halo-related post, there’s a lot of grasping and chasing shadows in this. Maybe next time I should just talk about why I like these games or something instead, that’s a lot easier.

Anyway does anyone wanna come play Firefight with me please do it’s been so long since I’ve done that with anyone other than internet randos

#ramble #halo #halo 2 #chips dubbo is the greatest character in all of gaming btw

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raguna-blade · 4 years ago

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So this just occurred to me to think about but shared symbols in the persona series. I’m sure there are others that I miss, especially relevant to the first two games, and right now i’m looking at just the one, but there should be SOME right?

And in this case the one i’m thinking about is glasses. So in persona 4, the glasses the characters wear are used specifically to be able to see through the fog in the other world, that is to be able to better navigate the world that is hidden and obscured right?

Heck, a critical scene in the game shows the absurd difference wearing them makes early on and Narukami hot flinging them away in the final scene is an indication of him more or less coming to fully understand the situation and having “true” sight of what’s going on around him. Which is cool!

But what’s interesting is that none of the Investigation team actually wear glasses in their day to day which is fine really. It’s as much a design thing as a story beat but what i’m getting at is going into persona 5 then, there can be this expectation that if one is wearing glasses they have a degree of special insight/ability to see things as they really are right? Not strictly, but as part of the same story family it’s not like those symbols disappear as a thing in play strictly, they just wouldn’t be emphasized because that’s not really the theme here.

So it’s interesting to me then that every single character who wears glasses normally in this game (with normal including their metaverse selves should they have one) demonstrably has special insight into the world or events going on, or else just general insight. Literally all of them, i’m not joking.

We’ll go in order here, Phantom Thieves>Allies>Foes>Maruki, and there’s probably more i could go into here but for the moment it’s kinda idle thoughts so forgive that.

Protag: So the thing to note is that his glasses are fake right so that may off the bat give you the vibe that this is wrong but well, that literally doesn’t matter for our purposes here. That Protag definitely has special insight into the world and events however is inarguable. Having been cast out of the standard safety net of society he gets a front row seat to a lot of weird things that aren’t immediately obvious. He see’s through the masks of all of the targets to some greater or lesser degree (admittedly not unique to him, but the thieves as a whole), get’s to understand to workings of the world and how it specifically fails outcasts, has inside knowledge on several of the major players (Shido, Maruki and Akechi most notably) that isn’t immediately obvious that they themselves aren’t aware of all the time, and as seen through the Confidants specifically he’s a remarkable judge of character and an expert and understanding people, something he does consistently.

That his glasses are fake actually, now that I think about it, is actually an interesting trait here. They exist solely to put him under the radar, which actually works so there’s that element of understanding appearances, but the fact that he really DOES NOT actually need the glasses to “see” the world accurately perhaps rolls back to his Designated Role as the Trickster (or at least one of them, We will get to Akechi in a second), and his ability to understand how the world works or specifically does not.

Akechi: Akechi is interesting here because in the real world he doesn’t wear glasses, as Prince!Crow he doesn’t either. So...Where does he wear glasses?

As Black Mask. And notably, they’re red tinted lenses, which actually lines up with another thing here. He does have true insight (and he’s sharp as hell we can’t possibly deny that) but he also, notably, has a crazy distorted view of things. As was kinda pointed out during his whole mental break down in the boat, he didn’t have to do like...any of the fucked up things that he did to achieve his goals. Even if he still wanted to kill his dad or just ruin his life he didn’t have to do it the way he did. He’s, one, literally seeing red, but two for all that his vision is keen it’s also more than a little distorted.

But also, as the other Trickster, the more destructive one at that, he also has keen understanding of the world and how it works, breaks down, and utterly screws over those who fall outside of it. Indeed, his insight is miles better than Our protags given he was more or less kicked out of the system from the get go due to family matters and had to actively claw his way back into the system in the first place. But of course, going back to his red lenses, as opposed to Akira who more or less rejects the system and wants to see it broken down one way or the other, Akechi desires to be part of it despite knowing intimately it’s copious failings. He has the vision and the ability to see but also fails to act on it (a thing he explicitly states more or less)

Futaba: Futaba is perhaps the most straightforward here. Does she have inside knowledge of events? Some, given her understanding of Cognitive Psience for sure, but her talents lean specifically in computer stuff, and the varying ways of getting information and such there. Of everyone here her glasses as symbol match up the cleanest with the Persona 4 use, in that her clear view vision is related to the world of cyberspace and how all of that works. That they carry over into her Rebellion outfit likely has to do with her understanding of cognitive psience as well, which while (relatively) basic is still far better than pretty much everyone else in the cast save 1 or maybe 2. It’s worth pointing out that, if I recall things correctly, she basically was the one who put together that entire escape plan for Joker to not get hot shot in the face.

Sumire: Now here’s a fun one! She doesn’t get her glasses until the very very end of the game, when she stops being Kasumi and starts being herself. Another straightforward one in two ways. One, she is able to actually accurately percieve herself as herself indicating clear and unobstructed vision for her self. Easy peasey, but also, of the group she’s the one who most understands what Maruki is doing and why. Despite having issues with his end game, she also makes it abundantly clear that if it weren’t for what he did she probably would have killed herself. It’s an understanding that the others have a little of, but they also don’t have quite as deeply for as long as it went on with her.

Ohya: Straightforward again. She’s an investigative reporter, and a damn good one. She was on her way to cracking something with Madarame, before the story even began she and her partner had some dirt on Shido (which seems on one hand easy cause Shido is kinda sloppy, but also considering the range of influence he has even getting a bit is wild), knows Kaneshiro as a mafia boss despite him not really being arrested, and yeah she just get’s it. She’s sharp.

It’s also noticeable that her glasses are also distorted, in that they’re sunglasses.That’s not “clear” vision since they shift colors. Obviously, she’s going to see things a bit off, and in her case it’s less general insight and more specific to her present circumstances. Relating to sunglasses, at the start of confidant she’s stuck working entertainment stuff which she hates and isn’t fond of, but she doesn’t feel she has other options or the ability to follow her true passions in journalism. And she’s not...really wrong actually. She does have a correct view of the situation, because if she doesn’t stick to what’s what, she’s going to lose her job, but at the same time the degree of resignation is well also wrong, as she get’s into pretty quickly. She still has options, but at the moment she couldn’t really see em.

That they are amber sunglasses and she’s seemingly a depressed drunk i’m sure has no relation.

Sojiro: Sojiro is straightforward really. He understands the world, how it works, how it breaks down, how various things look, has a keen insight into people and events in general, and has insight on the main villain specifically. He’s not exactly trying to upset things no, but he’s made the system work for him to have a peaceful life with his daughter and ward, which is perhaps super impressive given how absolutely obnoxiously petty Shido is.

Kunikazu Okumura: Very simple, he knows exactly who’s involved with the conspiracy. Also tied with that, as he’s also a member of the conspiracy, is a knowledge of how the world as it is works, for better or worse. Like...It’s fucked up, but unambiguously everything he does do actually does advance his goals. As much as it hurt people, as much as it hurt his daughter, it worked. It’s awful, but it worked.

Shido: So...Shido is interesting. He’s especially interesting in comparison to the last glasses boy Maruki, but Shido is interesting especially because well...

Shido is right? Like, his view of the world as it is is kind of unambiguously correct. People in power have the ability to manipulate and reshape the world as they please, avoid the consequences of their actions, the world really is going to shit, and he has the ability to save whoever he wants, and he has connections and power that would allow him to basically reshape things as he see’s fit.

He’s unambiguously correct in this. He understands the world and the systems at play intimately. He understands the people he works with Intimately, to the extent that not only are their cognitive forms almost indistinguishable from absolutely normal humans, but they behave in ways that don’t even necessarily benefit him even in their assigned roles in the cognitive space. I mean look at the Cleaner. He damn near let the phantom thieves walk if Yusuke would have agreed to be his personal artist, and the moment he got his ass whooped he just left.

It is, frankly, a terrifying amount of insight.

But again, his glasses are off color. His view of the situation is, in some way, incorrect, despite this insight. So where does he go wrong?

Once again, as seems to be the case with all of the tinted glasses now that i think about it, the issue lies in self reflection. His view of the outside world and such is correct, but where he makes his biggest mistake lies in both his view of himself as untouchable (he’s not) and that his method of salvation is at all the only one available, or even perhaps tenable.

The second point is perhaps the more critical one. Had Shido used his connections, insight and knowledge for good he could very easily change the situation that was leading to the disaster that he saw himself saving others from. He could make things better if he wanted to, if he thought to, but his failing is that he didn’t and perhaps couldn’t. And critically, his belief that he and his would be able to be safe on that ship for any period of time when the world around it has been utterly devastated is well...short sighted.

Maruki: Last but not least, Maruki. While his insight isn’t perhaps as broad about things, what he knows and what he talks about is...Well. It’s another version of Salvation for sure, but it’s one that the phantom thieves and I think the players have to argue with. Maruki says it extremely clear, it’s better for you to overcome your hardships yourself, it’s better to face your problems head on and fix them that way....But sometimes you can’t. Sometimes you really just cannot do it, you cannot surmount the challenge no matter how much you may need or want to, sometimes you’re just going to be broken and hurt and in incalculable pain and that’s extremely fucked up.And if that’s the case, if that’s how the world is, shouldn’t it change? If the system is broken, if the way the world is is wrong, shouldn’t it be changed?

It’s not unlike the phantom thieves, although the direction and end goal are different.

#Persona 5 #Persona 4 #Shared Symbols #akira kusuru #spoilers #Persona 5r #sumire yoshizawa #goro akechi #futaba sakura #takuto maruki #glasses are deep yo #ramblings

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caffeinatedbraincell · 4 years ago

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Hi y’all I’m back with another TOG story!

Summary: Joe and Nicky raise a duckling together during their time off. They're great parents and the ducking is very cute, and absolutely nothing sad or angsty happens because we all deserve some undiluted serotonin.

(Edit: Forgot to tag earlier, inspired by this post by @silly-old-guard-aus <3)

Read on AO3

“How are they?” Joe asked, smiling softly as he held the phone to his ear.

On the other end, Booker ran a hand through his hair fretfully. “I don’t know them like you do, obviously. But I- ah, I don’t know, this might be presumptuous of me. But I think they’re gonna be alright.”

“You know Andy well.”

“Yeah, but not Quynh. This is my first time meeting Quynh.”

“How did she react?”

“She didn’t cry in front of me. Didn’t even yell. Andy broke down instantly, but not Quynh. I told her Andy was mortal now, and then I left. I thought maybe it would be easier for them to be vulnerable with each other if I wasn’t around. Do you think Andy will be safe?”

“Yes. She is always safe with Quynh.”

“But Quynh was so angry.”

“She has every right to be angry. Even though it is not Andy’s fault. Andy knows this. Their love is many millennia old, Booker. These past 500 years will not break them.”

Booker grunted noncommittally. “I’m going to go back. Just to check on Andy. I’ll sleep in a motel if they want to be alone.”

“Alright. Text me, okay?”

“Yeah, of course. How’s everything over there?”

Joe looked over at the couch. Nicky was reclining in the corner spot, watching with rapt attention what Nile had called “one of the best episodes of Queer Eye ever” on their laptop. Nile was curled into a ball at his side. A cool draft snuck in through the cracked window, and Nicky adjusted the plush throw that was draped over them both. Nile sighed contentedly, snuggling closer for warmth.

“Good,” Joe replied, voice suddenly soft. “Everything’s really good here. You don’t have to worry about us.”

“Do you all need anything from Paris?”

“Not that I can think of right now. But I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. Okay, sounds good.”

“Sebastian.”

“Yeah?”

“Take care of yourself, okay? They’ll both be alright. Don’t sweat it.”

There was a pause. Then Booker sighed. “Yeah, okay. I’ll relax.”

“Good. Text me when you figure out where you’re sleeping tonight.”

“For sure. Thanks, Joe. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Joe left his phone on the counter and crossed over to the living room. He sat down on the carpet in front of Nicky, tilting his head back to rest it against Nicky’s knees. Nicky smiled, reaching down to run a hand through Joe’s hair. He wrapped a few curls around his fingers, tugging ever so gently before letting go. He shifted his hand a few centimeters and repeated the act.

“Come up here?”

Joe shook his head, practically melting under Nicky’s loving ministrations. The floor was especially comfy when it was closer to Nicky. “I love you,” Joe mumbled, as instinctively as exhaling. After a moment, he frowned. “I love you, too, Nile.” Nicky laughed, and Joe could almost feel Nile roll her eyes.

The episode ended with Tan France demonstrating how to do a French tuck, and Nicky wondered aloud if the technique would work just as well with his highlighter-green shorts. Joe, despite knowing full well that Nicky was trying to provoke him, promptly went off on a well-rehearsed tirade about the detriments of wearing a dress shirt with basketball shorts.

“Nile, back me up here!”

“You’re right. He’s right, Nicky. Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

“You two can’t stop me,” Nicky argued, just to be contrary.

“At least it won’t be as bad as that time you wore only yellow for two months,” Joe said resignedly.

“Yellow?” Nile asked.

“Yes, he insisted it would make the duckling feel more at home.”

“Duckling?!”

Nicky clicked his tongue impatiently. “I wore various styles and shades of yellow, from pressed goldenrod shirts to an actual pastel canary dress. He has no right to complain about my lack of versatility.”

“The duckling liked me better, and I just dressed like usual.”

“She didn’t like you better. You always kept blueberries on you to bribe her with.”

Wait,” Nile interjected. “We need to backtrack. When and why did you guys have a duckling?”

Joe gave Nicky a pointed look that did nothing to hide the mirth in his eyes. Nicky sighed around a smile.

“It was an accident.” ___

“Nicky, stop moping. Booker, get up from the floor. Enough is enough,” Andy said, far more gently that her words implied. She prodded a very drunk, very anxious Booker with her foot. “Book, have you eaten at all today?”

“He hasn’t,” Nicky muttered from the kitchen counter. “But neither have you, boss. You’re telling us to get it together, but you’re equally antsy about this whole thing. Don’t deny it.”

Andy sighed in frustration. “I wasn’t going to. It was a bad call on my part. I shouldn’t have sent Joe alone.”

“It was a one-man job. You said so yourself. And he did have the best-suited skill set out of all of us. I think, tactically speaking, you made the right decision.”

“But you’re still upset about it, aren’t you?”

“Look, boss, just because it’s a one-man job doesn’t mean said one man wouldn’t prefer company. And it would be safer to have someone along.”

“It would have been a lot of extra work for Booker, security-wise. You know that.”

“Noooo, I din’ miiind,” Booker slurred from where he was curled up on the rug. He made a valiant effort to prop himself up on an elbow before collapsing back down with a thud.

Nicky put his head in his hands. “He was supposed to be back today, right?” he whispered into his palms.

“He’ll be back. He’s fine. I know he’s fine.” Andy paced back and forth restlessly. “We just need to get out of our own heads for a bit. Be a little patient. Joe will be fine.”

The stool scraped noisily against the kitchen floor as Nicky got to his feet. “I’m going to go for a walk and not think about anything for half and hour. I’ll bring takeout on my way back. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, solid plan. I’ll drag Booker to bed and try to get him fully conscious by the time you’re back.”

“Sober?”

Andy chuckled. “Don’t get too ambitious.”

Twenty minutes later, Nicky was sitting on a park bench, forlornly looking out over a pond as the sun set behind him. He’d already called a nearby Indo-Pakistani restaurant and ordered one plate each of everyone’s favorite biryani to-go, including Joe’s. Joe had to come back tonight. He had to.

Nicky shook his head in frustration. He was doing a very poor job of thinking about nothing. Suddenly, a tiny movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned his head, squinting at the reeds growing on the pond bank.

The reeds rustled ominously. Nicky was just contemplating his chances of outrunning a rabid racoon, or alternatively, how long it would take him to heal from death by racoon, when the rustling stopped. Then, with a piteous squawk, a small ball of yellow fluff popped out onto the footpath.

Nicky stared in surprise. The poor little thing had landed on its back, its orange, webbed feet flailing in the air. It didn’t seem to be able to turn itself upright. Cautiously, Nicky approached the creature and very gently scooped it up. It gawked at him with wide, frightened eyes, and he heard himself mumbling soothing reassurances as he set it back on its feet. It stumbled half a meter and fell into the pond with a splash.

Nicky almost jumped to rescue it, before remembering that it was a duck and probably did not need to be rescued from the water. Was this one old enough to swim on its own? At what age did ducklings learn to swim, anyway?

The baby animal splashed around happily in front of him, clearly not drowning. Still, Nicky decided to stay for a few minutes, just to make sure it would be okay. He looked around. The mother duck and her other babies had to be around here, somewhere.

Eventually, his phone pinged with a message from the restaurant, letting him know his order was ready to be picked up. He was startled to find that it had been over forty-five minutes since he’d left the safehouse. If he didn’t get back soon, Andy and Booker might start to worry.

Nicky looked wistfully at the duckling. “Off you go, little one. Go home to your family. I’ll go home to mine.” The duckling blinked up at him quizzically. “I’ll come visit you tomorrow, if you want,” Nicky tried. “In fact, I’ll bring Joe with me. You’ll love him. He’s the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. A ray of pure sunshine, just like you.”

As he spoke, he unconsciously reached out a hand to the duckling. To his utter shock, the creature hopped right up onto his palm and settled down.

“No, you can’t come with me,” he cajoled. “You belong here. In the water. Come on, in you go.” Reluctantly, it leapt back into the water, but made no move to swim away. Nicky pursed his lips, thinking hard. Maybe if he just got up and walked off, the duckling would go back to its family. He figured it was worth a shot.

Nicky got to his feet and turned around. He’d taken only two steps away from the pond when he heard a frantic splash behind him, followed by the soft thwack, thwack, thwack, of webbed feet on concrete. He whirled around.

“No, you have to go back to your pond!” he whispered urgently. The duckling tilted its head. “The pond!” Nicky gestured dramatically toward the fading light on the surface of the water. “You know, your home.”

Nicky sighed. He would just have to walk away as fast as possible. There was no way this baby duck could keep up; it would have no choice but to go back to its family. The thought made his heart break a little, but he had no other option. Taking a deep breath, he began to stride away purposefully.

In a matter of seconds, a series of tiny, woeful quacks stopped him in his tracks. He turned to find the duckling flopped over onto its stomach, crying.

“Ehi, no, piccolo mio,” Nicky exclaimed, rushing forward to gather the poor thing in his arms. He unbuttoned the top of his coat and held the duckling against his chest to warm it up. “Don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s alright.”

He looked back towards the pond. There wasn’t one single other duck in sight. He looked down at the duckling, trembling weakly in his jacket as it calmed down. He sighed. Andy was going to throw a fit.

“Looks like you’re coming with me, little one.”

Nicky managed to smuggle the duckling in and out of the restaurant without anyone noticing. As he picked up the warm takeout boxes, the duckling poked its head out of his jacket to investigate this new source of warmth. By the time Nicky reached the safehouse, he was carrying four boxes of biryani stacked one on the other like a Christmas tree, with a sleeping ball of fluff on top where the angel would go.

Before he could even knock, the door flew open and Andy shoved her cellphone in his face.

“Look, it’s a message from Joe! He says his flight got delayed, but he’ll be here tomorrow morning!”

Nicky almost dropped their dinner (and the duckling) in his haste to grab the phone. Beneath the update, Joe had sent a selfie of himself at the airport terminal, captioned with a cheery “See, boss? I’m fine!” and a couple heart emojis. Looking at his beloved husband’s radiant smile, Nicky felt his eyes mist over involuntarily.

“There’s a duckling sleeping on my biryani.”

Nicky and Andy turned around. Booker, who must have maneuvered the takeout from Nicky’s hands while he’d been distracted by Joe, frowned dubiously at the stack of boxes.

“Do you see it, too, Andy? Or did I just drink way too much earlier?”

“Both,” Andy replied without missing a beat. “Nicky, why is there a duckling-”

“It followed me,” Nicky blurted out. “I was sitting by the pond and it fell out of the reeds right in front of me. After that, it just kept hanging out nearby. When I tried to put it by the pond and go, it started crying. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just leave it!”

“Okay, but what if its mother is looking for it?”

“I really, really tried to find the mom. But there wasn’t one other duck in that entire pond. I have no clue where this guy came from.” Nicky spread his hands helplessly.

Just then, the duckling woke up. For a frantic second, everyone held their breath as it flailed around, threatening to topple from the stack of boxes. But the moment it saw Nicky, it sat back down, contentedly preening its downy feathers.

“Oh my god,” Booker said incredulously. “Nicky, I think it imprinted on you.”

“What?” Nicky demanded.

“Oh, no way,” Andy countered. “Ducklings are supposed to imprint on their mother ducks. Nicky isn’t even the same species.”

“Yeah, but ducklings have been known to imprint on other animals, including humans,” Booker continued. “Especially if the mother is absent during the baby’s first few days for whatever reason, it will imprint on whoever it can find. Nicky, looks like you adopted a duckling. Or it adopted you. Good luck.”

“Oh no,” Nicky fretted. “I can’t raise a baby all by myself. Where is Joe, I need a co-parent! Andy, can I have some time off? Maybe, uh, a few weeks? Oh no, I don’t even know how long it takes for a duckling to grow up. I don’t know anything about ducklings. Booker, can you print out the Wikipedia page on ducklings for me?”

“Relax, Nicky,” Andy chided. “You’ve raised chicks before. How different can this really be?”

“8-12 weeks,” Booker read out from his laptop. “Nicky and Joe are going to need 8-12 weeks off to raise this duckling to full maturity. After that, they can reintroduce it to the pond.”

Andy sighed. “Fine. You two were gonna have time off anyway, since I have business in Portugal and Booker’s going to Germany because he scored tickets to the World Cup.”

“Oh, Joe didn’t want to come?” Nicky asked.

“I only managed to get one ticket,” Booker admitted. “I offered to let Joe go instead of me, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Said maybe next time, if we get more tickets.”

“Oh. I guess that works out then.”

“For the record,” Andy said as she extracted her box from beneath the duckling, “this is absolutely ridiculous. Only you, Nicky, would go out for a walk to ‘clear your head,’ and come back with a real live orphan duckling.”

In the end, it was a good thing they were in Genoa, because Nicky had maintained his ties to the port city over the centuries and, in a matter of hours, was able to take out a lease for a small cottage closer to the pond. After dinner, Booker and Andy helped him shift his and Joe’s belongings, as well as some meager furniture, into the new place.

“I think I’ll stay the night,” Nicky decided as they finished up. “The duckling is already asleep on my jacket, and I don’t want to jostle it in the process of moving back to the safehouse.”

“Sounds good,” Andy said around a yawn. “We’ll send Joe over as soon as he drops off the mission file. Come on, Book. Time to go.” There was no response. “Booker?”

Booker tip-toed out of the room where the duckling was sleeping, waving his laptop around triumphantly. “She’s a baby pekin. That’s the species. Also she’s a she, in case you were wondering. See this faded eyeline?” He pointed to a picture on the laptop. “That’s how you can tell.”

“A she,” Andy grunted approvingly. “What are you going to name her, Nicky?”

“I don’t know. I’ll ask Joe tomorrow. He’ll come up with something pretty and meaningful.”

“Your laptop was dead, Nicky, so I plugged it in to charge,” Booker said, shoving his own laptop into a bag. “You’re gonna be doing a lot of googling, I think.”

“Thank you, Booker.”

“Mhm. Andy, let’s go? If I fall asleep before we make it back, you’ll have to carry me the rest of the way.”

“I’ll leave you on the footpath.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I might. Let’s go. ‘Night, Nicky.”

“Goodnight, you both. Safe travels, in case I don’t see you before your flights.”

The next morning, Nicky woke up to webbed feet padding determinedly across his chest. He opened his eyes to see beady black eyes staring down into his soul, and very nearly had a heart attack.

“Madre de dio!” he yelped, sitting up sharply. He managed to gather his bearings and catch the little ball of yellow fluff before it tumbled off the bed. “Piccolo mio, you can’t just do that!”

The duck let out several loud, indignant squawks, stomping around in his lap. Nicky furrowed his brow.

“Are you…yelling at me?”

The squawking and stomping continued.

“Oh,” Nicky surmised. “Maybe you’re hungry. Babies usually cry when they’re hungry. Is that right, preziosa? Shall we find you something to eat?”

Nicky doubted the duckling understood any of what he was saying, but she responded to his tone, nuzzling her tiny beak into his hand. He took that as a yes. Nicky climbed out of bed with a yawn, stretching thoughtfully as he walked over to the clothing trunk to get dressed.

That was how, ten minutes later, Joe walked in on Nicky standing at the kitchen table in yellow sleeping shorts and a yellow t-shirt, slicing green grapes in half as a very energetic duckling devoured them happily. Joe felt his lips curl up into a hopelessly wide smile.

“When Andy told me you had a surprise for me, this is not what I expected.”

Nicky dropped the knife and whirled around, practically throwing himself across the kitchen in his haste to wrap Joe up in his arms. Joe gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. He clung to Nicky, burying his face in his neck and breathing him in. God, how he had missed him. Finally - finally- Joe felt like he was home.

After a few moments, Nicky pulled back, eyes shining as he cupped Joe’s face in his hands. “You stink,” he accused, before kissing him soundly. Joe’s protests died in his throat, and he grinned into the kiss, feeling full to the brim with happiness. He marveled quietly at his husband’s ability to make 900 years seem like the blink of an eye. Perhaps his body had stopped aging centuries ago, but it was only in his Nicolò’s arms that Joe still felt 31.

Eventually, a series of tentative chirps interrupted them, and they broke apart, laughing.

“Aww, amore mio, how rude! You haven’t introduced us yet,” Joe quipped, gesturing between himself and the duckling.

“Ah,” Nicky smiles sheepishly. “Joe, this is…a duckling. Duckling, this is Joe - remember the one I was telling you about by the pond? The one with a smile like sunshine, sweetest person you’ll ever meet?”

Nicky turned, and Joe kissed him again, impossibly more in love than he’d ever been in his life. The idea of his husband waxing poetic about him to ducklings in a pond was just too adorable to bear.

Later that afternoon, after Joe’s valiant but fruitless attempt to potty train the duckling and Nicky’s stoic re-sanitation of their patio threshold, they decided to swaddle the drowsy baby in a soft washcloth and watch a movie together while she napped. They sat on the loveseat Andy and Booker had carried in last night, the duckling nestled comfortably between them. Both of them elected to watch a soppy romantic indie they’d seen a hundred times before instead of the new action flick; it was Joe’s first day back, after all, and he’d really had enough of gunfire for a very long time. Nicky couldn’t agree more.

Around halfway through, Joe leaned forward and paused the laptop. He stroked a finger gently down the sleeping duckling’s back, and then looked up at Nicky.

“Did you really not pick out a name for her yet, amore?”

Nicky shrugged his shoulders with a half-smile. “I figured that’s your department, no? Coming up with something melodious, beautiful. Poetic. Some worthy descriptor for this lovely little creature.” Nicky yawned. Maybe the duckling’s need for sleep was rubbing off on him. “You’re the creative one.”

Joe gasped in mock offense. “You are creative!” he whispered insistently.

Nicky laughed softly. “Yes, coming up with ways to keep you enamored for nine centuries does take creativity.”

“You could laze about on this couch for the next nine centuries and I’d still love you more than life itself.”

Joe’s retort was very matter-of-fact, but Nicky melted like sugar in a flame. Given how often his husband said things like that, he didn’t see how it was possible to be caught off guard every single time. To be stunned into speechlessness, heart alive with emotion his tongue knew no words for. It made Nicky realize what the poets meant when they compared love to a river of fire that could only be crossed by drowning.

“I know, hayati,” he replied at length, leaning in for a kiss. “Believe me, I know.” Nicky did not add that he felt the same, that if they never so much as left this house for another millennia, their love would only continue to grow - but Joe heard it anyway.

The next evening, Nicky finished showering and, after a moment of contemplation, opted for a mustard-yellow sweatshirt and last night’s sleeping shorts. As he walked towards the kitchen to make dinner, he decided to ask Joe to run down to the local pet store and pick up a bag or two of proper duck feed. The duckling could only be expected to eat grape halves for so long. He reached the kitchen and promptly froze in the doorway.

On the counter was a large steel basin filled with water. Inside the basin was a very happy duckling, splashing around gleefully. Next to the counter was a rather disgruntled Joe, soaking wet and trying in vain to coax the duckling into staying still long enough for him to rub a little Dawn soap onto her back.

“Wallahi, Nicolina, a little soap doesn’t hurt! Come on, baths are nice. You’ll like it, I promise. Would you rather smell like pond water, or, uhh…” Joe squinted at the soap bottle. “It doesn’t say what scent this is, actually. But I’m sure it’s better than pond water, don’t you think?”

“Joe, what are you doing?” Nicky laughed from the doorway.

“Nicky! Oh, thank God you’re here.” The duckling seemed to agree, chirping excitedly at Nicky as he walked towards them. “Give me a hand, amore. Nicolina doesn’t like soap.”

“You’re calling her Nicolina?!”

“It suits her. She’s just a miniature you, see?” Joe managed to seize the duckling and hold it up next to Nicky. “Both yellow, both don’t like soap-”

“I like soap!”

“Both like to swim,” Joe continued, ignoring Nicky and putting the duckling back into the warm water.

“And I’m only wearing yellow to make the duckling feel more…at home, you know?”

“Pekin ducks are white, Nicky.”

“Well, this one’s clearly yellow.”

“That’s because it’s a baby. Mother ducks are white.”

Nicky shook his head to clear it. He’d definitely come in here with the intention of telling Joe something else, not arguing about duck colors.

“Oh, right! Joe, I meant to ask you - could you get duckling feed from the pet store while I make something for dinner? After you’re finished bathing her, of course. That way she’ll have something nutritious to eat tonight.”

Joe nodded, and then leveled Nicky with his best poker face, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “Who will have something nutritious to eat, amore?”

“She will.”

“Who?”

“The duckling, Joe.”

“Yes, but the duckling has a name, right?”

“ I am not calling her that.”

“Però-”

“Yusuf al-Kaysani, I swear-”

Joe put on his best puppy face. “But you said I could name her anything I want!”

“I said you could name her something beautiful and meaningful.”

“There is no name more beautiful and meaningful to me than yours, Nicolò. You asked me to find a worthy descriptor for her - and I found no better way to honor her charm and kindness than to name her after you. You stole my heart the moment I saw you, and she did the same. What can I do? It’s perfect.”

Nicky gaped at his husband. “Wha- I- You- Hayati! You can’t just say things like that!”

Joe gave a tiny smile, trying to hide his triumph and failing spectacularly. Nicky threw his hands up in surrender, circling around the counter to thoroughly kiss the smug look off Joe’s face.

“So the name can stay, then?” Joe asked, a little breathlessly, when Nicky pulled back.

“Don’t ask questions which you already know the answer to,” Nicky scolded, kissing him again. “Now go pick up duck feed before the pet store closes. Remember, if Nicolina doesn’t get dinner, then neither will you.”

Joe burst out laughing. He stashed the bottle of Dawn soap next to the sink, waving an alacritous finger at the duckling as he scrambled out of the kitchen. “Looks like you’re off the hook for today, little one!” Nicolina splashed and quacked enthusiastically in response. “Nicky, there’s a clean towel next to the basin to dry her off with. Can you-”

“I’ve got it, love. I’ll finish up here before starting dinner.”

“Grazie mille, see you in ten!” Joe called from the living room, grabbing his wallet and heading out the door. Nicky sighed, reveling in the peace of the moment, silent but for the gentle splashes and chirps of the duckling in front of him. Eventually, he picked up the towel.

“Alright, Nicolina. Let’s get you dry and warm for your nap, shall we?”

The next few weeks passed happily, with Nicolina becoming a central part of their family. She was extremely intelligent, managing to figure out potty training by the end of week two. It took until week three to convince her that soapy baths were a good thing, but she grew to love it enough that as soon as a bubble bath was prepared, she would hop in of her own volition. Both Joe and Nicky were ecstatic. By the time week four was drawing to a close, Nicolina had even learned how to turn her heat lamp on and off by herself, by stepping on the switch.

One evening, as Nicky was walking back to the cottage after running an errand, he was struck by a thought. Tomorrow, he realized, would be the one-month anniversary of having found Nicolina by the lake. Since the duckling wouldn’t be with them for a full year, this was probably their best chance to have a first birthday celebration for her. He pulled out his phone and hit recent.

“Hello, Joe?” He paused as Joe spoke. “Yes, yes, the post office was open. It went smoothly. Yeah - I wanted to ask, can you feed Nicolina and whip something up for dinner? I just remembered a thing; I’ll have to take a bit of a detour.” On the other end, Joe grumbled something about Nicky going on impromptu shopping trips without him. “I never said I was going shopping!” Nicky laughed. “But you’re right, as usual. Tell me, hayati, how am I supposed to surprise you with what I buy if I take you with me?”

The next morning, Nicky snuck out of bed before either Joe or Nicolina were awake. He decorated the living room of their cottage with baby blue and yellow balloons - some hanging off the roof and walls, others rolling around lackadaisically on the floor. Then, he puttered around the kitchen for a bit, mixing batter and putting two cakes in the oven to bake: a regular one, and a special miniature one made with all duck-friendly ingredients.

Miraculously, neither of his housemates had woken up to all the ruckus he’d made in the kitchen. Nicky tip-toed back into the bedroom and quietly slid a dress box from beneath the bed. He went to the bathroom to shower and get ready.

When he’d stopped at a clothing shop the previous night, Nicky had honestly been dismayed at the lack of birthday-appropriate formal wear available for men in any color other than dark blue, black, or tan. Certainly there was nothing even approaching some semblance of duckling yellow. Nicky had sighed in frustration - he should have brought Joe along after all. Joe would have known what to do.

Nicky could almost imagine his husband’s gleeful smile. “Amore, try this!” he would say, gesturing to the obnoxious excuse for a suit on Nicky’s right. “Or no, wait - what about this?” Nicky’s gaze had snagged on a lovely light yellow dress, on display in the women’s section across the aisle. It was a simple a-line dress with short sleeves and a flowy skirt that would probably come down to a little above his knee. There was no print, only a few tiny red flowers embroidered at the hem and on one sleeve. Also, it had pockets.

In his head, Nicky imagined Joe, who would have suggested the dress as a joke, tracking Nicky’s interest and suddenly getting on his soapbox about how men can wear dresses, too, because gendering clothing is stupid and outdated, and really, it was supposed to be hot tomorrow, did Nicky really want to spend Nicolina’s first birthday all uncomfortable in a scratchy suit, and…

Before he could second-guess himself, Nicky took the dress off the rack. He skipped the fitting room and decided to just pray that it looked good on him instead. He’d made his purchases and been halfway across the street when he realized that he hadn’t picked one out for Joe. He’d immediately turned and started walking back, earning a confused honk from a taxi driver who had to swerve to avoid him.

That was the story of how, on the morning of Nicolina’s first-month birthday, Joe came into the living room to see his husband in a stunning pastel-yellow dress, glowing like the sun itself among a shower of blue and gold balloons, playing peek-a-boo with a delighted duckling perched on the coffee table. Warmth and sunlight streamed through the open patio, and the air smelled sweetly of vanilla and cinnamon.

Joe pressed a hand to his heart, so overwhelmed with love that he was physically unable to breathe for a few seconds. Looking back, he prided himself on being able to remain standing at all. It shouldn’t be humanly possible, he thought, to fully and truly embody perfection to the degree that his Nicolò did. Joe smiled at the irony - he sometimes forgot that the very basis of their existence itself wasn’t humanly possible.

Nicolina spotted Joe first, and ran excitedly off the end of the table in a wildly risky attempt to take flight. Nicky gasped and lunged after her, managing to catch her before she hit the floor. “Nicolina, what the-”

He looked at Joe, standing open-mouthed in the living room entrance, and smiled. “Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”

“You’re beautiful,” Joe blurted out, like a thirteen-year-old talking to his crush. He frowned. Surely, Nicky’s current state of dress deserved something more poetic.

But Nicky’s smile only widened. “I’m so glad you like it, Joe. I have to confess, I had my doubts. But the look on your face convinces me I made the right decision.”

Joe opened his mouth to say, yes, yes this was absolutely the right decision, this might have been the best decision ever - but what really came out of his mouth was “Uh. Yeah. Can I, um. I really want to kiss you. If you want.”

Apparently, he would continue to be possessed by the ghost of an incoherent and besotted teenager for as long as Nicky was wearing this damn dress. Fortunately, Nicky seemed to find this endearing, laughing as he gently deposited Nicolina in his pocket - omg, it has pockets! - and walked up to Joe. He reached out to cradle Joe’s face in his hands, gazing at him like all the stars were in his eyes. Joe, who had just gotten out of bed and hadn’t even combed his hair, couldn’t imagine what Nicky was seeing, but the next moment, their lips were pressed together in a tender, blissful embrace, and every other thought in Joe’s head dissolved like salt in the ocean.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Nicky exclaimed, pulling back all too soon. “I got one for you, too! It’s in a dress box under the bed. Would you be interested?”

Joe blinked as his brain caught up. “One for me?”

“Yes, and don’t worry, I picked something you’ll like. It’s not tacky or unfashionable, I promise-”

“I like everything you pick.”

“That’s not true, you didn’t like the t-shirt I wore two days ago-”

“I like everything you pick for me.”

Nicky paused, trying to find a counterexample. “Ah. I guess you do. Well, go try this one on, then! Let’s see.”

Five minutes later, when Joe hesitantly stepped out of their bedroom in his new dress, Nicky realized that he had vastly overestimated his own ability to remain a functioning member of society with Joe looking like that. Even Nicolina, now resting quietly on a bunched-up blanket on the couch, couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of him.

“Well?” Joe asked, giving an experimental twirl that did nothing for Nicky’s screaming brain. “Does it look okay?”

Joe was wearing a knee-length deep teal sheath dress with a dribble of silver sequins spilling down one side like stardust. A shallow v-neck gave way to a sleeveless top, and the richly colored fabric fit snugly against his hips in a way that had not been nearly so breathtaking on the mannequin. Like Nicky’s own, this dress was simple, without excess print or decoration. Still, the way it looked on Joe as he stood there, smiling a little shyly in the late morning sunlight, left Nicky stunned.

He tried to speak around the sudden dryness in his mouth, but no sound came out. Rather, Nicolina chirped up first, quacking approvingly from her comfy spot on the couch. Joe grinned, crouching down next to the duckling.

“Aww, thank you, little one. At least someone has feedback for me.” Nicolina nuzzled her beak into his cheek affectionately.

Nicky sat back down on the couch and put his head in his hands. Joe glanced up.

“Nicky?” he asked, a little worried now. He walked over and sat down next to him. “Amati, is everything alright? Do you not like it? I can change back-”

“Mashallah, Yusuf,” Nicky said hoarsely, taking Joe’s hands in his. When he looked up, Joe was shocked to see tears glistening in his eyes. “It’s just - you are the most beautiful, wonderful, miraculous being that God has ever created, and I never forget this, but sometimes I am reminded anew and I just- I am left in awe of you, of your endless love and beauty. I can’t handle any of this. You’re too handsome, too kind. I wish I had one hundred hearts to love you with.” He sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

For the second time that day, Joe was rendered utterly speechless. On Nicky’s other side, Nicolina whimpered worriedly, climbing out of her blanket nest and nosing at his elbow. He chuckled wetly, reaching out to pet her.

“I’m fine, piccolo mio. Better than fine. Don’t worry.” To Joe, he said, “Sorry. I’m overreacting.”

“No,” Joe mumbled. He dropped his head to Nicky’s shoulder, reverently bringing their joined hands to his lips. “Ti amo, Nicolò. So much. Thank you.”

Nicolina clambered onto Nicky’s lap, snuggling close to him for warmth. Nicky caressed her downy feathers comfortingly. He turned and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Joe’s head. It had been a busy morning, and they still had big plans for the day, Nicky knew. A nice long walk in the park, visiting Nicolina’s pond, eating cake, maybe going out somewhere fancy for lunch or dinner (somewhere that allowed pets; he would have to google it). But for now, he allowed himself to just breathe, swathed in bone-deep contentment.

Over the course of the next month, they took Nicolina to the pond every single day. By week five, her feathers were growing out in earnest, and she could fly quite reliably. In week six, Nicky and Joe got comfortable leaving her at the pond unsupervised, using the time to run short errands before returning to pick her up. By week seven, Nicolina would stay out longer and longer, often loathe to leave the water even after the sun had set.

As week eight drew to a close, Nicky reminded Joe to pack an extra jacket for their trip to the pond. Nicolina ran ahead of them excitedly. The pond was always her favorite part of the day. After watching her splash about for a bit, Joe went for a walk around the park, and Nicky left to go grocery shopping for the upcoming week.

When Nicky returned, Joe was back on the bench in front of the pond. For a second, Nicky had a vivid flashback to the evening this all started - he’d been sitting in that very spot, worrying about Joe, when Nicolina had quite literally dropped into his life. He shook his head fondly at the memory.

“Joe?” He approached the bench. Joe looked up at him and smiled, patting the adjacent seat.

“How was groceries?”

“Ah. Nothing too remarkable. A lady spilled a gallon of milk in the aisle where we were waiting to pay, and then we all got distributed into different queues, so it took longer than usual.”

Joe clicked his tongue sympathetically. For the next couple hours, they sat mostly in silence, listening to the sounds of the evening and watching the last rays of sunlight fade from the surface of the pond. As it got dark, the park slowly emptied out, save for a few teenagers roasting marshmallows over a fire pit in the distance.

Nicky sighed deeply, holding his arm out to Joe. Joe scooted closer, wrapping his arms around Nicky’s waist and resting his head on his shoulder.

“She’s not coming back tonight, is she,” Joe whispered. Nicky squeezed his shoulder, pulling him closer.

“Got attached, Yusuf?”

Joe huffed. “Two months is nothing in the span of centuries, right? So why…” He trailed off, but Nicky heard what was left unspoken.

“The heart only knows how to live in the present, hayati. That is why it falls in love. That is why it cries when something ends. Even if we always knew it would.”

“You’re so composed - won’t you miss her?”

“I will. Terribly so. It just hasn’t sunk in yet, so I can offer you wisdom like a hypocrite.”

Joe smiled sadly. “When it sinks in, I’ll do the same for you.”

“I know, my love. My all.” After a few minutes, he said, “Give me that extra jacket.” Joe handed it to him, and Nicky shook it out, wrapping it like a blanket around Joe’s shoulders. “Lie down.” Joe lay his head in Nicky’s lap, stretching his feet out onto the bench. Nicky wove his fingers through Joe’s hair calmingly. “Alright?”

“Mhm. Nicky?”

“Yes?”

“Are we staying the night?”

“We can stay as long as you want.” ___

“The end,” Nicky said with a flourish.

“Wait, what?” Nile lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him incredulously. “What do you mean, the end? You never saw her again?”

“Of course we saw her again,” Joe answered from the floor. “We walked by the pond several times a week, and she would always swim over to say hi when she saw us. It was the sweetest thing.”

“About a month later,” Nicky picked up the narrative, “Booker got back from Germany and Andy from Portugal. We took a series of back-to-back missions after that, and didn’t get to return to Genoa until early spring.”

Joe’s phone buzzed on the counter, and he got up to go check it.

“Mhm, and then?” Nile prompted.

“Well, when we got back, we came by the pond to see if the ducks had returned to their northern habitats yet. As we stood by the water, one duck, a beautiful, white bird, swam gracefully up to us and nuzzled our ankles for a bit. She looked really happy to see us.”

“Oh my gosh - Nicolina?!”

Nicky smiled in confirmation. “Do you know, she had a mate? He was quite lovely, too. They made a good pair.”

“Wow,” Nile breathed. “That’s so awesome.”

“Guys, look at this.” Joe walked back to them, phone outstretched. “A message from Booker.”

Nicky took the phone, and Nile leaned over to see. On the screen was a photo of Andy curled up next to a Vietnamese woman that Nile had only ever seen before in her dreams. Quynh, she knew. Andy was fast asleep, and Quynh smiled serenely at the camera. Her eyes looked like she had been crying, but her happiness was evident, even in the hastily taken picture. The message beneath it read “they’re letting me stay the night,” followed by a tentative thumbs up and smiley face.

Nicky grinned. “Oh, God. I can’t wait to see her. And look at them - I told you, Joe.”

Joe leaned in for a quick kiss. “I never doubted it.”

#the old guard #joe x nicky #kaysanova #found family #fanfiction #tog fanfic #kavi writes #loooong post #yeah this one got away from me idk what happened #but I love how it turned out!#feedback always welcome <3 #fluff #no seriously this is just tooth-rotting fluff be warned

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sweet-barnes · 4 years ago

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Snake Eyes - part six

Pairing: mob!Bucky x reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: ‘Snake eyes’ meaning the worst possible result; a complete lack of success. Getting caught up between two of the biggest mobs in the city was never how you expected your night to go, and falling for a mob boss can only end in disaster.

A/N: nothing majorrr happens in this part, it just provides some more back story on Bucky and the reader so you can love them both even more! also there’s some fluff but don’t get used to it lmaooo... feedback is always welcomed!

Snake Eyes Masterlist

Part 5

Bucky couldn't keep his head straight after the conversation he'd just had with Steve.

He dropped his suit jacket on the floor as soon as his bedroom door was shut and sat down on the bed, feeling the soft material against his fingers and the mattress sinking under his weight. He always knew there was something that drew him to you but he thought it was just your beauty. Not that you were apart of his childhood.

But that would explain the feeling deep in his chest that he felt whenever he was around you. Like you were a force within his world that needed to be listened to. You could have always been there, but he was stupid enough to let you go during his younger days.

He vaguely remembered the girl who would chase him and Steve up and down the streets, play fighting all day whenever she was around. She always seemed to show up more when Steve was on his own, and he would tell Bucky all about the times they had spent together. That's when she'd stay over at Steve’s as refuge from her parents.

Looking back now, Bucky sees why he doesn’t recognise you as that girl. He had barely known you, but even that small presence in his life was enlightening. If nothing else, he remembers that big smile on your face despite everything that Steve would tell him about your family. You were always happy.

He could see an essence of that smile in you now, but it wasn’t as bright, and it definitely wasn’t as happy. He wondered what had happened to you in between then and now to cause that light to dim.

Bucky knew he always had a thing for choosing the right friends, Steve was the perfect example of that, and clearly you were too.

He couldn't mention this to you. He'd already told Steve not to say anything to any member of the group. He didn't know why he wanted it to be this way though, they were all so close, practically brothers and sisters. He could always trust them but this felt different. It felt a bit too personal.

Maybe it was because he thought you’d see him differently. Possibly in a bad light for not keeping in contact after you left. As far as Steve and himself were aware, they were your only friends during the time you lived near them. Imagine moving to a different city and knowing your only friends didn’t want to speak to you afterwards, despite how young you were.

That caused an ache in Bucky’s heart. Thinking back to the girl he barely knew, he didn’t mean to cause her that harm. He definitely wanted to make up for it now though, saving you from Rumlow was the start of that but it wouldn’t be the end.

Maybe you’d just see him as a friend if you knew it was him and Steve, an old friend that you could always go back to and still feel like nothing had changed. Bucky didn’t want that. He knew in a different part of his mind that he was drawn to you for so many reasons and he couldn’t let you slip away again. He couldn’t let you just be his friend.

Bucky sighed, he had thought maybe he had a normal shot with you. As normal as it could get between him and one of Rumlow's girls. He didn't even know if you had any similar feelings towards him but he wanted to try, despite how wrong it may seem.

He could feel it in his heart and in his gut whenever he was around you, as cliché as it sounded you were so different to all the other girls that he had around before. In spite of trying to keep his two lives separate with the others, he knew they were only interested in him for the money. The way they would drape themselves all over him as soon as they met and the way they would do anything for him, it made him begrudge who he was as a person.

All he wanted was someone who saw him for who he really was. At this point, he didn’t know who that even was himself. His whole life had been consumed by the mob, through his father and now through his legacy. He couldn’t separate himself from it.

But maybe you could. You felt safe and warm to Bucky, like you could hold him in your arms and the rest of the world would melt away and it would just be you two indefinitely.

After all these thoughts, he wanted to make sure you were his.

He wanted to protect you from the dangers of the outside world. That was the real reason he had offered you the job within his house. He didn't want you going and working as one of the dancers or bar staff at his clubs, he knew what the men were like and he couldn’t have anyone else touching you.

It wasn't long before Bucky was laying in his king sized bed, shrouded by darkness, staring up at the ceiling. He knew he had to make your time here as comfortable as possible. He had to try with everything in him to make you see him for who he really was.

He needed to protect you, a need that came from a deep part of himself. He couldn’t let anything happen to you.

You woke the next morning feeling somewhat different. A weight had shifted from your chest for the first time since this whole ordeal started and you felt more at ease. Maybe it was the meal last night, you thought to yourself.

Becoming friends with Natasha was definitely a step into making you feel more comfortable in your new home. Sam and Steve definitely helped as well, they had been the most accommodating since you arrived here. Always stopping to talk to you about anything and everything, sending you the softest of smiles whenever they couldn’t stop for a chat. They had a homely feeling that you just couldn’t resist.

You couldn’t forget Bucky, however. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t have invited you to have dinner with them all. If he hadn’t brought you into his world and settled you in beside him. He was definitely a better man than you originally thought, with so much potential outside of the mob.

He was a good man trapped in the wrong walk of life.

You padded your way from your bed to the en suite bathroom, having a hot shower before getting ready for another day in Bucky's office.

When you arrived, you saw Bucky was sitting in the chair behind his desk, a look of concentration set onto his face. You let a small smile creep onto your own face at how cute he looked. Your fingers twitched as you had the sudden urge to rub the frown lines out of his forehead, to relax his muscles for him. You blinked the thought away, why were you thinking like that? He’s a mobster!

He noticed as you started walking towards him, grinning up at you as you finally arrived in front of his desk. "Good morning, Y/N." You returned the greeting, your smile widening, trying to brush away the remnants of the thought that had creeped into your mind.

"I brought you a drink up this morning," Bucky gestured to the steaming cup that was placed next to the computer he was just staring at. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, "thank you." You felt the heat rise to your cheeks and you cast your eyes downwards. He couldn’t see the look on your face, that would be too embarrassing.

You moved around to his side of the desk and picked up the mug, cradling it in your hands and taking in the warmth, before looking back at Bucky as he spoke. "I have to go out for the day today, I hope you'll be okay on your own?" It came out as more of a question than Bucky had intended it to but he waited for your reply.

You nodded, "Yes I should be fine, I think I've got the hang of it now." The pang of anxiety at the thought of being alone for the day hit you, but you tried to push it away for now.

Bucky hummed, gathering some paperwork that was scattered on top of the desk and placing it into the satchel he had just picked up. "I got you a phone, it's got everyone's contacts in it in case you need any help or need someone to talk to," he offered you a shy smile after closing his bag.

This surprised you. Rumlow had taken your phone for obvious reasons and you didn't think you would be provided one by Bucky either. It seemed unexpected that he would trust you that much to personally provide you it. "Oh, that's lovely, thank you," you responded softly, eyeing the black phone that was placed in front of the computer that you were only just noticing.

Thoughts of messaging your mum or your friends were swirling around in your mind. Maybe this was your way out of all of this? They would be able to get you out of this, right? The thoughts were soon overtaken by the feeling that Rumlow could do terrible things to them if he found out you were trying to escape, and you quickly decided against contacting anyone who might help.

Though this crushed your hopes, it may have been the safest option, and you weren’t one to put your loved ones in danger for your own sake. No matter how desperate you were.

You were broken out of your thoughts by Bucky’s voice. "Don't hesitate to message me, I'll always find time for you." Before you could reply, he was already walking out of the door.

You stood there for a moment, watching as the door slowly swung shut and a silence fell over the room.

How could one man be so charming in such a short conversation?

You shook your head slightly. No, you couldn’t be thinking like this. You plopped down into the chair, letting yourself settle before trying to concentrate on the day ahead.

You spent the morning going through the previous weeks reports from Bucky's clubs, feeling up to your eyeballs in numbers and trying to keep as organised as possible, ready for the next time Pierce might show his face. You were dreading the time he would show up when Bucky wasn’t there.

You took a moment, rubbing your face and letting out a breath you didn't realise had built up inside of you. You were used to the pressure of work, it sometimes helped you to keep your productivity up but this was different.

Doing financial reports for James Buchanan Barnes, leader of the Howling Commandos felt one hundred times more stressful. You didn't want to mess it up the first time you were left alone, especially with how kind he had been that morning.

A short vibration brought you out of your thoughts. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sound that seemed so familiar but distant after all this time. Then you remembered the phone that Bucky had given you. You unlocked it to find a message from the man himself, and realised he had saved a smiley face next to his name in the phone. You found yourself smiling at the small gesture as you read the message.

"Hope you're doing okay over there, I've organised dinner to be brought up to you so that should be arriving soon, I hope you enjoy it x."

You felt your cheeks become instantly warm at the message and a giggle left your mouth. Did you really just giggle at a text like a smitten high school girl with her first crush? I guess you just did. He was really having an effect on you.

You quickly replied, telling him you were doing great and you couldn't wait for dinner. As soon as the text had been sent, a soft knock on the door made you look up as one of the workers brought over your dinner and dessert. You could definitely get used to this.

Surprisingly, the rest of your time in the office was spent between finishing the paperwork for Bucky and texting him. The conversation started mainly talking about your work, with Bucky sometimes making jokes about being bored with his own, but you doubted it would be any worse than what you were doing.

Bucky slyly moved on to asking you more and more about yourself, wanting to know as much as he could without pushing it too far. You didn't mind though, just like last night, it was like talking to an old friend. It all felt so natural and you found yourself looking at your phone frequently to see if he had replied to you.

He seemed so interested in you, with every tiny detail you told him he seemed to latch on for more. Even when you tried to talk about him, he’d answer your questions with consideration, letting you in on the detail you wanted to know but always found a way to take your conversation back to you.

As you made your way back to your room once the day was over, you were hoping to bump into him. Your heart racing as you walked through the halls, but he never appeared and you felt slightly disappointed as you reached your room.

You settled yourself for bed, reading a chapter of the book Bucky had let you keep. Or at least trying, Bucky didn’t leave your mind no matter how hard you concentrated. You eventually gave it up, placing the book gently onto the side before settling under the cozy duvet for the night.

Before you were completely pulled under, you heard the familiar vibration of your phone. You reached out blindly and finally found it on the bedside table. It lit up in your hand with a simple message. "Goodnight, doll."

The smile that crept onto your face gave it all away.

You were falling for him

Part 7

#james buchanan barnes #mob!bucky #mob au #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky drabble #mobster!bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #snake eyes series #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes imagine

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mable-stitchpunk · 4 years ago

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FNAF-TOBER Prompt- 18: I’m Already Inside

Mike thought it was a joke at first. His boss had sent him out into the holding shed to check the newest animatronic they would be ‘rehabilitating’ for the pizzeria, make sure it wasn’t aggressive, and spray it with a quick disinfectant. So, Mike strode into the shed with one hand on his taser, a can of chemi-spray in the other, and stopped short when he saw a wooden signpost propped up in place of the animatronic.

It said, “No one is here. (I’m already inside.)” and was topped with a winky face. It just reeked of being a bad joke until Mike realized that it would’ve had to have been his boss who did it. Needless to say, his boss wouldn’t have done it.

Mike’s eyes widened, he dropped the spray can, and sprinted back inside. Now he eagerly snatched up his taser as he made a mad dash to his boss’ office and nearly banged down the door. He then burst in without an answer. His boss jumped slightly, but it was impossible to see his expression when he was wearing his Freddy head.

“We have a huge problem out here,” Mike announced. He pointed a thumb back out the door. “That animatronic you wanted me to spray? Yeah, it’s inside, and I don’t know where.”

“...So, wait, how are you sure it’s inside if you didn’t see it?” his boss asked with exasperation.

“Because it left a big-ass sign out in the shed.”

His boss signed and rubbed underneath the Freddy head. After a long moment, he dragged his head up to look at Mike. “What does it look like?”

“It’s made of wood with a smile on it.”

“Not the sign, the animatronic!”

“I don’t know, it got inside before I could see it. I think we just established that.”

“But didn’t you put it in the shed last night?” There was a long pause. Now the boss seemed flustered and he jumped up from his office chair to hustle out the door. “I swear to God, if it’s him-.”

“So, wait. You’re saying it broke into the shed, left a signpost, broke into the building-.”

“Just hurry up and help me find this thing before we get stuck opening with it still in here,” his boss snapped. They hurried out into the main room and began to search.

It wasn’t behind the curtains. All of the animatronics that were supposed to be on stage were already there. Not under any of the tables or tucked away in the kitchen area. Not in the climbing tunnels, which Mike was forced to climb through to check. It almost seemed like there was nothing here.

“I swear, Schmidt, if I find out this is a joke, I’m throwing you out of here so fast I’m going to get a gold medal in curling,” the boss muttered. Mike raised a brow at him. “...It’s a sport, look it up.” He shook his head and scoffed.

“Well, we checked the whole place and there’s nothing here,” Mike said. “What now?”

“...Not the whole place...” Slowly his boss turned to look back at the ball pit. Mike was sure he had a suspicious glare on under that Freddy head as he stared it down. Then he simply said, “Get me one of those novelty grabber toys from the prize corner.”

“Wouldn’t it just be easier to, I don’t know, use anything else?” The way that head snapped to him told Mike that he was about one more word from losing his job, so he didn’t argue and instead went to get it.

With the grabber in hand, the boss crouched beside the sea of colorful, plastic balls and began to remove them one by one. At first Mike thought he was insane, but then he started to get it. This was more of a power play than an attempt to empty the pit one at a time. To show the thing hiding inside that he wouldn’t stop searching.

And it worked.

Suddenly the balls started to shift where the boss had been digging. He drew back the grabber and watched with a tight gaze as the balls started to roll aside. Then something began to slowly rise out of the ball pit. First two long, golden ears broke through and stuck out amongst the color. Then a matching head began to rise out and revealed glowing eyes and a wide grin of tight teeth.

It was a decrepit rabbit animatronic. One that reeked of mildew and rot that looked like it had been decaying for years. Before Mike or the boss could properly react, the rabbit’s jaw creaked open and a menacing voice spilled out.

“WELL, HELLO THERE, OLD SPORT.”

Mike’s brows shot up, especially when his boss answered, “I knew it was going to be you. What, did the dumpster you’ve been sleeping in flood again?” His voice was bitter and angry, but entirely unsurprised.

“AWW, SPORTSY, DON’T BE LIKE THAT. IS THAT HOW YOU TREAT AN OLD FRIEND?”

“All of my friends are dead.”

“EXACTLY.”

“So, wait, you know this... This?” Mike asked in disbelief.

His boss gave an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, we’ve got a bit of a history,” he admitted.

“IS THAT WHAT YOU CALL DECADES OF PASSION, COKE, AND KEBABS? SPORTSY, THAT HURTS. I THOUGHT I MEANT MORE TO YOU THAN THAT.”

“Dave, get out of my ball pit and get out of my restaurant. I’ve already told you, I’m not letting you pull your sh- your usual stunts in here. This is my pizzeria; if you want to sleep in the alley, then be my guest, but you aren’t staying in here,” the boss firmly laid out. “Now are you going to come out quietly this time, or am I going to have to get the taser?”

And Mike distinctly noticed that “this time” and started second-guessing if keeping his job was the best option.

“COME ON, OLD SPORT, DON’T ACT LIKE YOU DON’T NEED ME. I GIVE THE PLACE A SENSE OF ATMOSPHERE, I BRING A WHOLE NEW AMBIENCE, AND ALL I ASK IN RETURN IS TO EAT WHATEVER GETS DROPPED IN THE PIT. IT AIN’T LIKE YOU’RE PLANNIN’ ON CLEANIN’ IN HERE.”

“Does that include children?” the boss asked flatly.

“I REALLY MISSED YOUR SENSE OF HUMOR, SPORTSY. SEE? WE ALREADY PLAY OFF EACH OTHER NICELY.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“I’M A CHANGED RABBIT. I’M LOOKIN’ FOR HONEST WORK.”

“That still wasn’t an answer.”

“WHATCHA GONNA DO, KICK ME OUT? SEND IN THAT POOR SAP THERE WITH A NET? THE PIT WILL DEVOUR HIM FROM THE INSIDE. YOU NEED ME TO REGULATE THE FATALITIES OF THE BALL PIT.”

The boss stared at the rabbit for a long time, seemingly realizing now that he wouldn’t be easy to get out. Especially with the darkness looming in the depths of the pit. He gave a slow sigh.

“Well, Dave, you got me there. I’m not happy about this... But maybe we can make a deal. You can stay in the ball pit if you-.” He held up a finger. “Don’t kidnap, attack, maim, or eat any kids.” He held up a second. “Don’t come out of the ball pit during the day.” Then a third. “And you let us drench you in a quart of cleaner. People are expected to eat here.”

“GEE, SPORTSY, YOU’RE TAKING ALL THE FUN OUT OF THIS. WHAT HAPPENS IF I HAVE TO TAKE A LEAK?”

The boss stared at him without any amusement, three fingers raised, while Mike just looked slightly quizzical. Dave gave a groaning noise that sounded more like a wild animal than any kind of person.

“ALRIGHT. FINE. STILL BEATS SLEEPING IN A DUMPSTER FULL OF HALF-ROTTEN PIZZA. YOU GOT A DEAL, SPORTSY.”

“Alright, hold on a second.” The boss stood and hooked an arm around Mike’s shoulders to lead him away. “Look, I know this sounds insane, but Dave was talking sense about the ball pit. I think we can get rid of two birds with one stone,” he said, much to the shock of Mike.

“Wait, what?” Now far enough that Dave couldn’t hear, Mike still lowered his voice and asked, “Are you completely insane?! We can’t keep that thing in here!”

“I know,” his boss said. He swore he could hear a smirk on his voice as he gave his employee a firm slap on the back. “You remember that gallon of heavy duty fabric cleaner in the closet?”

“Yeah?”

“Dump it out and fill it with gasoline.”

Well, nobody liked the ball pit anyways.

#fnaftober #prompt #I'm Already Inside #five nights at freddy's #Dayshift at Freddy's #Mike Schmidt #Old Sport #Davetrap #Fazbear Frights: Into The Pit

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years ago

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 205

205

Wolf. Human. Exhausted. Horny. Exhausted. Wolf. Exhausted. Human. Horny. Exhausted. For the next two moons, Keith was... very instinctual. Very, very, instinctual. He couldn’t keep his hands off Lance when he was awake, nor when he was asleep... Lance wasn’t sure what they hadn’t fucked on, only that thankfully they were locked away in one of the very many rooms of VOLTRON where no one ever seemed to go. Coran had skipped giving them a bed, instead they’d been gifted the use of what seemed to be some kind of storage room for ex-training equipment. Their “bed” a stack of old gym mats. Keith too horny to care about where Lance would sleep, and Lance kind of too horny to sweat the small details around the sleeping thing seeing he seemed to now have the talent for sleeping anywhere as long as there was a bathroom closish.

In the space of twoish days, they pretty much dissembled the room. Keith had boundless energy in his wolf form. Having him “work it off” during the day meant only one leg humping incident, and that was only very minor as Keith had been ashamed when he’d realised what he was doing. Trying to be proactive, it turned it to “How to train your werewolf fiancé”, with Lance building different obstacle courses for Keith to conquer and amuse himself with. No. He wasn’t above playing fetch with Keith... and Keith wasn’t above being bossed around if it meant head scratches for being a good boy. His fiancé mortally embarrassed to find that he’d walked all the way to Platt simply because he missed his vampire. Coran stepping in and giving them complete privacy for the duration of the moon, meaning no nagging from Shiro over Keith’s safety.

Still, Lance was happy to have Keith back to himself after the moon had passed. His boyfriend much softer and much gentler, taking into account that Lance wasn’t really feeling like having sex seeing how vigorously they’d gone at it during the few hours Keith was awake around lunchtime. Keith stupidly apologetic for his wolffish ways, with snuggles and pampering that Lance sorely needed. Despite ensuring him repeatedly that he’d be okay, Coran decided that they needed and extra few days with Lance resting and on fluids thanks to all the “mating” they’d done. Launching into a long story involving sex with a very persistent vampire queen who was set on wedding him, Lance completely mentally banned the word “mating” from his own vocabulary. He now knew how much of a kinky demon bastard Coran was, and he’d never be able to scrub the graphic descriptions of Coran being pegged from his mind.

Allura had been highly sympathetic towards the pair of them when she’d brought his precious Blue back. Her blue rhinestone collar had been replaced by a pink one with a little bow, obviously she’d been “pampered” by her aunt Allura and hated every moment of it. Cradled in Lance’s arms, she made sure to glare up at him, letting him know he was only allowed cuddles as she didn’t wish to be held by Allura or Keith. Lance felt as if he’d been the worst cat dad to his beloved princess. She not only had to put up with a vampire for a father, she also had to put up with a werewolf as her other father, and she was expected to rule her household with incompetent staff in his absence. Not that Lance would ever admit it, but he missed the days when it’d been him and Blue off on another adventure together. He missed taking her for her walks, and spoiling her rotten as she loved him simply for the fact he was the one who operated her wet food. He’d never tell anyone this, nor would he change how things were now, he just really missed Blue and everything crazy that came with owning a cat. Kosmo was bestest boy, but Blue would be princess forever.

Without a lot to pack, they nearly made it out of VOLTRON and into his bronco before Coran was calling Keith away. Kissing him on the cheek, Keith sent him on ahead, Lance trying to block out the conversation between the two men, not completely sure he wanted to know what was being said, but mostly out of privacy. Thanks to the talk, when Keith climbed behind the driver’s wheel, his fiancé seemed in a bad mood, Lance not pushing as he wasn’t sure he’d like the answer he’d get if he did. Still, they were finally going back home for the next two weeks, where he’d finally get a look at Rieva’s engagement ring, though he wasn’t supposed to know about it as he’d heard Curtis and Shiro being all mushy and no one had actually told him about it directly... or if they had, he’d forgotten it and thinking about that was far too scary a prospect.

Fucking fuck fuck. Keith knew that Lance knew that he knew that Lance knew he was angry. Fucking shitty vampires. Not Lance though. Never Lance. No. Fuck Lotor. Fuck Lotor and his big prick of an ego. Keith wasn’t sure what he wanted to hit, only that hitting the open road hadn’t calmed him down.

Okay. He was not the best werewolf. He was not the strongest, the smartest, the scariest, or even the biggest. His instincts had gone into overdrive over not being able to find his mate and he’d walked the whole goddamn way to Platt to find him. Not that he really remembered that night, but still... That was totally beside the point, because fucking Lotor was coming back. He was coming back and he’d oh so graciously volunteered to spar with Keith to hone his new skills before they worked on him shifting into a werewolf.

The wank stain couldn’t come back for Allura, noooooo. That’d be too easy. No. He had to come back right when Lance was nearing the end of his pregnancy and play some damn fictional hero like mentor to his dumb wolf arse. And Coran had picked right when they were finally heading home to drop this piece of news on him. All those times he’d wanted to punch Lotor in the face and restrained himself seemed for nought now he had to be nice to him. Yeah, he was grateful the vampire had “tried” to protect Lance. But there was absolutely no way he wanted another vampire cozening into his mate. Though it would have broken Allura’s heart, Keith would have been happy if Lotor just stayed away in Europe with those ridiculous suits of his.

Lance hadn’t said a thing. Keith didn’t know if he’d heard, or if his fiancé was simply trying to be polite. Knowing Lance, option two seemed the sure bet. He was too old and too fucking exhausted for Lotor’s shit. Then there were Lotor’s witches to think about too... The only useful thing in this situation Lotor could possibly bring with him was anything Honerva had on breeder pregnancies. Yeah, it’d be information probably too late, but if there were to be any complications, he’d rather know before hand so he could figure out how best to support Lance.

Home was a welcome sight. Blue bolting from the bronco the moment Lance had his door open. Matt and Rieva coming out to wait for the pair of them as Keith dragged himself out from behind the steering wheel. How was he supposed to tell Lance he’d have to make pretty much daily trips to Platt starting in three days time? He didn’t want to do that to Lance. He didn’t want to have to deal with sorting through Lenny’s files when he also had to cope with Lotor’s training. Ugh. Adulting sucked. Forced into a hug with the two werewolves, his ego made him growl at the pair. Rieva slapping him upside the back of the head as she scolded him for running off. He’d never be living that one down.

Inside, Hunk, Shay, and Krolia were waiting in the living room. Krolia holding back a very excited Kosmo who’s whole body was wagging

“Kosmo!”

Crouching down, Keith opened his arms, Kosmo bowling him over as he rushed at him, licking his face as Keith tried to push him down

“You’re a menace... yes, who’s a menace? You’re a menace!”

Chuckling at the pair of them, Lance sidestepped them. Keith mood instantly lifted by Kosmo’s pure joy at seeing him

“I’m not going to say a word... but if you’re going to cheat on me, I suppose you can cheat on me with our best boy”

Keith snorted

“As if I’m going to cheat on you... besides, Kosmo is best pupper”

“As far as I’m concerned you both are. Hey, guys. Got room on the sofa for a sleepy vampire?”

Lance had made it one to the sofa and into one of Hunk’s hugs before Keith managed to get Kosmo calmed down. Sitting on the floor, his idiot fur son was sitting between his legs. This was home. He was home...

“You guys didn’t have to come visit us”

Hunk had work and so did Shay, as did his who was clearly giving herself the day off. Kicking lightly vaguely in Keith’s direction, Lance then snuggled himself into Hunk’s side

“Says you. Don’t worry, Hunk, he’ll change his mind when he gets one of your sunshine cuddles”

“I have plenty of cuddles. I bet you’re happy to finally be released”

“Oh, man. You have no idea. I’m still tired as heck, but Coran said as long as I don’t start sleeping without eating, I should be fine to nap as much as I want to”

That wasn’t quite what Coran had said, but Keith didn’t want to be a nagging fiancé

“That’s great, dude. I’ve gotta say, you all had us worried when you ended up there again”

“It’s like a second home by now. Plus I got some quality time with my gremlin, which was nice. Now I’m looking forward to having a bath and sleeping in my own bed...”

Hunk chuckled as Lance closed his eyes

“I’m glad my shoulder makes a good alternative”

“Mmm. You have great shoulders. And great arms for hugging. You’re the best cuddly Hunk in the universe”

“Aw, Bud, you’re not too bad yourself”

“I know. It’s my gift and my curse. Anything new to report while we were gone?”

“Ummm... Shay and I are looking at renting a place of our own”

Lance shot up, beaming as he wrapped his arms around Hunk

“I’m so happy for you guys!”

Keith was happy for them too, supposing he was being a tad anti-social staying on the floor rather than getting up and sitting in one of the recliners. He couldn’t let his Lotor problems bring the mood down

“That’s great, guys. Are you going to house share with Pidge or are you striking out on your own”

Shay giggled, Keith assuming she was happy to talking about it, otherwise her giggle made no sense

“Oh, definitely on our own. It just feels the right time. You guys are having twins. Matt and Rieva are engaged. Work’s been going really well, plus our parents both want to chip on the bond... I don’t think Pidge would like living with a couple...”

Keith noticed the way Lance’s smile wobbled. He’d mentioned that Pidge had been kind of feeling down about her friendship with Hunk drifting. People grew and changed, it sucked but it was a fact of life, and unfortunately for Pidge she was surrounded by couples. Matt came up behind him, ruffling Keith’s hair hard enough that it felt like his brain was being shaken

“Don’t worry about, Pidge. She’s been coming home from work to crash here. She’s never been one for love. All the kisses and the cooties, she’d rather be coding”

Matt only served to make Lance frown, he must have set his ego off

“Pidge is perfectly fine the way she is. I’ve already told her we’ll start looking for somewhere nice sufficiently haunted once the twins have come”

Hunk groaned deeply at Lance

“Man, you’re not still going to go ghost hunting, are you!? This is change to get out of going to creepy buildings in the middle of the night”

“Someone’s got to keep our little Pidgeon safe. You know how over excited she gets”

“But, dude. I’ve got grey hairs... I’m getting grey hairs thinking about going back”

Lance and Hunk would never fight, but Lance had said Pidge was upset. His fiancé would do whatever it took to make her happy again... and Lance did have a point about Pidge needing a babysitter... aaaaand Pidge chasing after ghosts was a hell of lot safer than her pursuing her interests in werewolves and vampires

“I don’t mind. I mean, I’ve already been there before and it wasn’t that bad”

Lance nodded quickly

“See! The gang is totally getting back together, even Keith agrees it’s going to be just like old times again. You split up the band”

“Yeah... but that... I mean, we know it’s real now...”

Matt chimed in with a scoff

“Yeah, really mostly explained by science”

Lance didn’t take too well to Matt’s unwanted addition to the conversation, snippy in his retort as he moved himself to shoot Matt a deathly scowl

“Ghosts are real. I know you werewolves don’t see them like vampires, but they’re there. They’re not something to just go poking out. If Pidge wants to go, I’m going with her”

Matt released Keith’s head, Keith feeling the fellow werewolf’s ego flaring. Matt had no right to be shitty towards Lance wanting to be there for Pidge

“Dude, you can’t let her boss you around forever. There’s a time for moving on”

“She’s not bossing me around. At the moment this is what she’s into. Running around the occasional haunted place was kind of fun. She’s fun. Yeah, death feels absolutely horrible. Shadows on the edge of your vision. Body so cold your breath comes out in puffs of condensation. But it was fun. Watching how into it all is fun, and when she started making connections in her cases I couldn’t have been prouder at the time and effort she’d put in. I want to be there and I want to support her. Yeah, she took her job at VOLTRON because she was already a firm believer in the paranormal, but she also did it so she could understand us better. Forget it, I’m getting cranky and we all know that’s Keith’s job, isn’t it, babe?”

Keith had wisely kept his mouth shut, yet he had been cranky all morning and Lance was owed an explanation

“Lotor’s coming back”

Maybe a better explanation than that. Keith cringing at his own bluntness. The cringe turning into a wince as Matt yelled, hurting his ears

“What?!”

Unhappy about his sore ears, Keith huffed

“You don’t need to fucking yell about it. I’m going to be training with him in Platt starting next week. Coran dropped it on me this morning as we were leaving”

Casting his gaze entirely to Lance, Lance smiled at him, rather looking freaked out like Keith thought he might. Cocking his head, Keith was confused

“Babe?”

“He’s... well, he’s him. But I think it’ll be good for you”

What?! No. Lance was supposed to support him staying at home... or maybe even say he wasn’t ready seeing he’d only been through two moons

“How is this a good thing?”

“You need someone to help you hone your skills now you’re a werewolf. You already hate him, so you’ll also get a lesson in how to rein your ego in for when you go hunting actually bad vampires. Plus, you don’t have to worry about hurting Lotor seeing he’s already dead so you can go all out”

Lance and his damn ridiculous logical approach

“But it’s Loturd...”

Whining only earned him a chuckle from Lance

“I know. I’m going to have call Allura later and scold her for not telling me about it. She’s supposed to be my adopted sister and she kept her mouth shut”

“Maybe she can distract him so I don’t have to put up with him?”

“Or maybe I’ll come along and kick your arse if you’re not training. He’s not my first choice of teacher, but I do think you need someone right now, and until I’ve given birth, I can’t help you train”

“You know I hate it when you’re right”

“But you love me”

He couldn’t argue with Lance’s logic there either

“I do. I don’t really want him and you in the same place”

“Babe, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m might be fat, but I can break through an ego now. He tries anything funny and I’ll neuter him”

“Not if I get there first”

If Lotor so much looked in Lance’s direction, Keith would kill him. Lance was his mate and as painful as it was, vampires probably belonged better together than a werewolf and vampire. Lance might not have any feelings towards Lotor... yet Keith couldn’t keep his jealously at bay. He deserved to be fucking happy, no matter how selfish it was, until he’d worked out how to interact with Lotor, Lance wouldn’t be going anywhere near him.

Shooting him double finger guns, his fiancé was trying to make him happier

“That’s my boy. Now, I don’t know what you’ve all got planned, but I want to take a bath. Growing babies is exhausting. Your amazing shoulder is going to have to wait, Hunk-a-roonie”

“That’s okay, Bud. We only really came to see that you guys got back safely. We’ve actually got a house viewing at 12 o’clock, so we’d better head out. It’s so good to have you guys home”

Lance smiled at Hunk

“It’s good be home. Don’t forget, you’ve got a team of werewolves to help you move. I’m happy to volunteer them”

“Yeah, we’ll keep that in mind. Right, we’ll see you guys later”

Leaving them, Keith dragged himself off the floor and into the space Hunk had vacated. Matt leaving them to join Rieva in the kitchen where she’d been making lunch before they’d come home. Lance not moving for this bath he wanted, instead kissing Keith on the cheek, before snaking his arm around him with a content sigh

“No bath?”

“Not yet. Honestly, I feel really bad, but I keep thinking about Pidge and it’s setting me off”

“Why don’t you invite her over?”

“I’ll send her a message. I used to get jealous over how close she and Hunk were, but we were always the “Garrison Trio”, you know. I know I can’t cling to the past, but it hurts that she feels on the outside”

Nosing into Lance’s hair, Keith nodded

“I know that feeling, but she’s got us and she’s got all our other friends. We’ll make sure she’s okay”

“I know. Babe, I know you’re upset about Lotor. If it doesn’t work out then it doesn’t work out. Both of you have egos and sometimes you’re just not compatible with someone. No matter what, I’m proud of you”

Hauling Lance up into his lap, Keith hugged his fiancé tightly

“Thanks. I’m kind... pissed off, but this is for the best, right?”

“Yeah, babe. I want you to finally feel safe as a werewolf and think this is a really good step. You’ll always have me in your corner”

“I’d rather have you in our bed”

Lance groaned at him, slapping his arm lightly

“That’s enough, Casanova. If I spread my legs anymore, they’ll fall out”

“We can’t have that. I love your legs”

And Lance’s arse... and his tummy... and pretty much every single bit of him...

“I know... God, it’s so nice to be home”

“Yeah, it really is”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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professional-benaddict · 5 years ago

Text

♥️ Red Heart, White Box ⬜️ l

A collab between myself and @questionablewritings xx

Mafia AU, boss Tony, pet/plaything +18 Peter, bodyguard Steve, bodyguard Bucky, underground doctor Stephen, gun violence, shootings, GSW, blood, injury, surgery, 2.5k

Or Peter is shot and they cannot go to the hospital.

part two - part three - part four

Part l - The Blood Stained Silk Shirt

It was quite common in their field of work, but still Tony was caught entirely off guard when a friend of his, well- now an enemy, pulled out the gun in the middle of their deal making and Peter dropped the lollipop he had been toying with all night. But, it was not until a shot was actually fired that the mafia boss realised how badly he had miscalculated the situation. It had been a risky deal from the start, but money was tight, very tight, so Tony had taken a risk, which he would regret for the rest of his life.

Usually, Tony is hyper sensitive to these things, the slight raises in tone of voice, the tensing of someone’s jaw, how their fists clench or how fingers inch closer to a hidden weapon. But... tonight he had brought Peter along, and even worse, allowed him to go out in a low cut silk shirt that showed off his collarbones. The idea was that it would distract the ones Tony was dealing with, but instead it had backfired, and now the silk shirt was stained with blood.

Peter had been taken quite literally, off guard. The gunshot echoed around the room, ringing in Peter’s ears until that, along with the deafening silence, were the only things registered. The pain had hit him slow, creeping down his arm and across his chest, forcing the older teen’s eyes downward towards the source of discomfort. His eyes widened, seeing first the crimson red stains that soaked the collar and sleeve of his shirt, and then… Well, Peter was not quite sure what came after that. After realising that he was bleeding, profusely, it did not take long to put two and two together. He had been shot in the shoulder, and the bullet currently resided deep in the meat of his muscle.

“T-Tony-“ Peter whimpered, shocked and pale as he stumbled forward, his uninjured arm reaching for his lover, his Daddy. Oh God, it hurt. It hurt so bad. Peter wanted to scream and sob, but he knew better. His weakness would be a sign to the rivalry members in the room, all eyes on him in utter surprise. Peter fought back the hot tears, dropping his hand to grab at his blood soaked shoulder just in time for him to collapse forward and to the floor. Peter was gonna faint... Fuck, it hurt so bad.

“Peter... Fuck, Jesus, FUCK! PETER!” Tony bellowed in utter fright and took Peter into his arms, gently lowering the boy to the floor when he didn’t have the strength to stand on his own. “Wha- I- Peter, fuck, please... Just- stay with me...” Tony stuttered out, having no clue what to say or do. Thankfully, Steve, one of his bodyguards stepped forward, yanking the silk scarf from around Tony’s neck. He bawled up the expensive fabric and then pressed it to Peter’s wound that was oozing with blood.

“He needs medical treatment.” Steve stated simply and surprisingly calmly. At first, Tony was furious at his employee for being so cold and heartless when his precious boy had been hurt, but then he realised that someone had to be calm. The boss was sort of glad he did not have to be the calm and rational one.

“We can’t fucking go the hospital, you idiot!” Tony shouted. By now, the rivalry gang had fled the scene, but none of Tony’s gang really paid any attention to that.

Peter’s line of sight was fading. He could see Tony, he could feel him even, but everything came back muffled to his brain. The boy grimaced as an unknown figure, Peter was too out of it to comprehend it was Steve, pressed something against the wound, shifting the bullet, but slowing the blood. He hated how he could feel the panic radiating off from Tony, and whimpered as he lifted his bloodied hand to his Daddy’s face, and forced weak eye contact.

“No...They’ll recognize you..” Peter groaned at the mention of hospital. The boy knew he needs medical attention, but he would rather die than risk Tony’s freedom.

“Baby, it’s okay, it’s okay...” Tony practically whimpered when Peter lifted a bloody hand to his face. He cradled the hand in his own, kissing it quickly and passionately.

It was Bucky, Tony’s left hand man and equal status as Steve who stepped up to the plate. His voice was less calm compared to Rogers, but the guy had seen his fair share of blood and gunshot wounds.

“There’s that guy- the uh Doctor that runs the underground clinic off 34th street. Strange, wasn’t it? Yeah...Stephen Strange.” Bucky suggests, quick to hand out the alternative option. It seemed their best bet. “Boss, If we’re gonna do it, we need to move now. Kid’s gonna bleed out in under an hour with a wound like that.” Bucky adds, his tone light and full of respect. No one disrespected the boss’ play thing.

Peter thought that the pain could not possibly get anymore worse. There was a shooting discomfort, searing up the left side of his body. It was too much. If it were not for Tony kissing at his fingers and breathily speaking to him, Peter might have let go and succumbed to unconsciousness already. Perhaps given up all together, but he would hold on for Tony.

“Well, call him right fucking now! Let’s move!” Tony barked and with Steve’s help, he picked up Peter. They all headed out of the building and to their cars. When Bucky bolted into action, pulling out his ‘work’ phone, Peter realised what was going to happen.

“No- NO! Don’t mov-“ But, his words were quickly swallowed as he is shifted from off the ground. Peter tried so hard to be strong, but nothing could hold back the shrill scream that flew from his lips. It eventually simmered down to a continuous whimper, and soft gasps of “a-ah!” whenever he was slid into lying in the backseat. Peter could only grasp on to Tony, breathing out in the tiniest of voices- “It hurts Daddy, it hurts so much.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” Tony apologised, which he never does, but he did now when he moved Peter to the backseat, causing him pain in the process. “Stay with me, baby, stay with me.” The man pleaded.

Bucky had taken the initiative to give this Doctor Strange a call, informing him of their impending arrival. He spoke into the phone loudly and clearly.

“You better save this kid’s life, because yours just got hung on the line.” Then, Bucky hung up and slid into the driver’s seat. He waited just long enough for Peter, Tony and Steve to get settled before he slammed on the gas, and sped his way to their destination.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here, baby.” Tony comforted while keeping pressure on Peter’s still bleeding wound. How is there so much blood in his sweet little baby? Sure, the boss has seen ugly injuries and corpses plenty during his career, but this... This he could never have been prepared for. With his free hand, Tony stroked back Peter’s sweaty curls, trying to reassure and comfort him. But, it had little effect against the blinding pain that each little movement of the speeding car shot up Peter’s arm. “Peter, Peter- shhh... I’m here.” Tony tried to comfort and raised his voice to actually be heard over the boy’s screams. “How fucking far away is it?” Tony growled to his bodyguards in the front.

“Ten minutes, sir.”

“Make that five.” The boss threatened lowly, and Bucky sped up without asking any questions.

Five minutes? Peter was not sure he could last more than two at this rate. He could feel the warmth of his blood run down his body, and all over Tony. His poor car, it would definitely need detailing after this. Peter should not be thinking about something as stupid as leather, but it was all he could do to cling on to his awakened state.

“Two minutes out, boss. Doc said he’d be ready.” Bucky ran through all red lights with a breeze, flying through the streets and taking short cuts. For a split moment, on a particular harsh jerk of the vehicle, Peter wondered if he was going to die. He sobbed at the thought, shaking his head to grab at Tony’s attention.

“Kill them.” Peter managed through clenched teeth. “When I-“ He paused to groan, throwing his head back. “- I die, kill them.”

“Peter- Peter! Listen, you- you’re not gonna die on me. You hear me? I won’t fucking allow it!” Tony shouted angrily, tears prickling at his eyes, but he did not let them fall. Not knowing what else to do, the older man leaned down to kiss his boy, his precious little thing. “You know what? You’re gonna kill them yourself. You’re gonna kill them dead.” He added after pulling back, stroking at the boy’s cheek and spreading blood all over his cheek in the process.

When they finally reached the destination, Steve double checked that it was the right place they had come to. He doubted Peter’s chances of making it would be good if they had to drive somewhere else. The place looked shady, and that said a lot with the standards that Steve was used to in this field. But, then a familiar looking figure exited through the back door and Steve knew they had come to the right place. Hopping out of the car, Steve greeted the doctor quickly before opening the back door.

“It’s good to see you, Doc.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get him inside.” Stephen said.

Bucky was the second out of the car, overhearing Stephens orders. He was not usually one to jump at anyone’s commands, besides Tony’s, but this was dire circumstances. He helped Steve slide Peter out of the car, who now after being kissed and ready to give in to the pain, had passed out. The boy was pliant, practically lifeless and dead weight as they moved to get him inside. There was so much blood, and Peter was such a small thing. Even Bucky was on the latter when it came to the boy’s life expectancy. He lifted his eyes off from the boss’ babe, to lock on to Steve’s eyes in hope they shared a common thought. Peter better survive.

Tony wondered if he could ever get over the sight of Peter’s eyes closing like that after kissing him. The boy looked dead already, but he knew based on the hurry that Stephen urged after feeling the boy’s pulse that he was not. While Steve carried Peter bridal style, Stephen went ahead and opened the doors as he led the way inside. In his state of shock, Tony stumbled after them while Bucky took long, confident strides. It felt like an eternity, walking through the dark and damp hallways, but finally they reached a well light crossway that looked like a clinic. There was an exam table and an overhead lamp surrounded by equipment, machines and supplies. But, what looked the most odd in the underground place was the area sectioned off by plastic in one corner. Tony would later find out that it doubled as an OR in the underground clinic.

“So, what happened?” Stephen asked, gesturing for Steve to lay Peter down on the exam table.

At the hinted gesture, Steve carefully placed Peter down on the table, careful not to make any sudden movements that would rouse the boy from his ‘sleep’. Bucky on the other hand, was not so nice. Steve was the muscle, and Bucky… Well he was there to get points across. With the boss mentally checking out for the evening, it looked like the explanation landed in his hands.

“The hell does it look like? He got shot.” Bucky snapped, motioning his hand towards the bullet hole in Peter’s soaked shirt. “Don’t matter how it got there, point is, get it out.” He continued, harshly saying whatever was on his mind. Maybe Bucky was being a little too blunt, but he could not help it. If Peter did not pull through, both Steve and Bucky would be going through weeks, if not months of pain.

At Bucky’s harsh snap, Stephen briefly glanced up at him before focusing on examining Peter. After snapping on a pair of gloves, the doctor motioned for Steve to step aside to get a look at the wound. It was still bleeding, but not as heavily, so Stephen pressed some gauze to it.

“I’ll get it out, but you guys will have to leave in the meantime. I can’t work if you’re buzzing around me.” Stephen said, his tone almost as matter of factly as Bucky’s.

Bucky pulled a face at the doctor’s words, his jaw clenching tightly with mild irritation. Now was not the time. Down from one of the three hallways, two other medical professionals emerged, dressed in the same scrubs as Stephen. Bucky made room for the approaching medical staff, standing by the entrance to wait for further instruction from their boss.

“Gun shot wound, prep him and the OR.” The doctor told the two others, who promptly snapped into action. “Which blood type is he? And any allergies to medication?” Stephen asked, turning to the three gang members. Tony did not hesitate to answer, giving his baby boy one last lingering look.

“He’s A+.” The boss stated, sounding more present now that they had gotten his boy to the medical help he required. He wanted to stay, to watch and make sure not a single finger harmed a hair on Peter’s head, but Steve was placing a comforting, albeit suggestive hand on his shoulder.

“Sir, I think we should wait outside. They can’t focus with us all here… and I know you want them to be paying attention to Peter.” Steve spoke, soft and careful. Tony roughly shoved his shoulder free, but gave a curt nod. If it was for Peter, Tony would do anything. He turned, and abruptly made his exit without so much as a word to anyone. The boss had put up his emotional wall, preparing himself for the worst outcome should it happen. Bucky followed, and Steve, he was the last to leave.

“Okay, let’s get a unit of the O+.” Stephen ordered and the taller of the two others, Mordo, went to fetch it while Wong remained behind to help transport Peter to the section behind the plastic covers that doubled as an OR.

Two hours or so later, Peter was stable, but still unconscious with all the morphine and anaesthetics in his system. Stephen had removed the bullet successfully, and stopped the bleeding and repaired as much of the damage to the surrounding tissue as possible. Luckily, no bones nor nerves seemed to be affected, which would make for a speedier recovery. The surgery was quite successful, but that was not all that the doctor did.

“Peter started bleeding internally into his abdominal cavity, so I had to go in to stop the bleeding. He must have fallen when he was shot, or the stress was just too much on his body. But, the bleeding has stopped now and he is stable. You can go in and see him, but he will be asleep for quite a while. He needs the rest.”

Tony shot up from his char like a fired bullet and headed to where Stephen was pointing, leaving Bucky and Steve to jog after him to catch up.

Tag list: @buckettbarnes @prettyboy-parker @starkerplusstrange @sugar-and-spice-parker @xsmallplum @starkerdreams @mynerdrage @kyattogaaru

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isolaradiale · 5 years ago

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When the final wire was cut, the entire city went black. The power grid was not tied to the network, but the outage was NULL’s only shot at preventing Ofiuco’s retrieval after she fell from the sky. The entire city fell still for five minutes before power returned, but this light only served to illuminate the next phase. It wasn’t like GPU had been without a backup plan. If they didn’t have a way to leverage the arrest of the Stars, then at the very least they could throw a wrench in their operation.

However, the light of the moon and stars that shone down on the city in the dead of night was obscured by a sudden apparition. A floating island that existed beyond the flight limitations of the city obscured the view, almost the same size as the city itself and becoming a constant and looming darkness over the cityscape. It cast things into uncertainty, and all of the Shades remaining on the ground flocked up and into it... before a loud rumbling began.

The island suddenly dropped and it inevitably looked as if it was about to crash into the city itself before stopping in a convenient location: just below the maximum flight limit. Beams of light soon extended from all around the floating island’s perimeter to Spirale below, their uses initially unclear.

That was, until, people began to step out of them. These weren’t NPCs nor agents, their ranks instead populated by the monstrous and the villainous. Enemies and rivals gathered from the worlds the characters had all been taken from, their sights set on razing the city. Chaos immediately unfolded where they landed, structures and people alike targeted while some of these foes sought conflict with their greatest nemesis.

LISTEN TO ME PEOPLE OF THIS ISLAND CITY.

If it was a device capable of receiving a signal, this distorted voice boomed over it. Many believed the speaker to be an enemy at first, probably one of the agents that had turned their world into disarray. Thankfully that wasn’t the case.

I AM AN EX-MEMBER OF THE GPU AND BOTH MYSELF AND ONE OTHER HAVE BEEN WORKING WITH YOUR ISLAND STARS FROM WITHIN THE ORGANIZATION FOR THE LAST SEVERAL DAYS. GPU WILL DESTROY YOU REGARDLESS OF WHETHER THE STARS TURN THEMSELVES IN OR NOT, AND BY THE TIME THE MAINTENANCE DROID IS ABLE TO CONVEY THIS MESSAGE TO YOU THE PROCESS MIGHT HAVE ALREADY BEGUN.

YOU AREN’T DREAMING. THE ENEMIES THAT HAVE LIKELY POURED OUT OF THAT FLYING STRUCTURE ARE ALL VERY REAL AND VERY POWERFUL. SOME OF YOU MIGHT RECOGNIZE THEM BECAUSE THEY WALK, TALK, OR GROWL LIKE FOES YOU’VE ENCOUNTERED IN YOUR OWN WORLDS. DON’T BE FOOLED, THEY ARE IMITATIONS MADE COMPLETELY UNDER THEIR CONTROL. HOWEVER THEY ARE VERY DANGEROUS, AND POSSESS THE FULL RANGE OF ABILITIES YOU KNOW THEM TO.

MY PARTNER IN THIS ENDEAVOR TOLD ME THEY’LL BE MAKING SURE THE ISLAND IS LOWERED ENOUGH THAT IT CAN BE REACHED, AND WE’LL ENSURE THE LIGHT LIFTS CAN BRING THOSE WITHOUT WINGS TO THE SURFACE. IF YOU WISH TO KEEP ON LIVING YOU NEED TO NOT ONLY PROTECT YOUR CITY, BUT BRING THE FIGHT TO THEM AS WELL.

Whether these words inspired or not depended on the listener, but there was no denying the immediate threat of the invading force as well as the personal nature of some of these opponents.

“To those ends, a gift!” This time the speaking voice was a familiar one as a dot of pink light zipped up from the depths of the hole, a familiar android plastered across every screen in the city. This time though her eyes weren’t red. A wave of light reverberated across the city from the flapping of Ofiuco’s wings, granting all it touched their weapons and abilities back for the time being. “Don’t forget there are people from the city itself still working with NULL. I know this is all hard to understand. You don’t know why you’re fighting nor do you know what you’re fighting.”

She exhaled before looking at the floating island above. “I guess there will be some explaining to do when all is said and done, but go! You need to reclaim the starry sky!”

INFORMATION

Welcome to part 2 of Security Breach! There’s a lot to cover here so we’ll try to be as specific as possible. But as always if you have a question don’t be afraid to send it to the ml!

What has happened? With the network shut down thanks to all the cut wires, NULL has wordlessly moved into their backup plan: completely razing the city from within.

To those ends they have summoned a floating island that eclipses the city, and from it enemies pour down from both the top and the light elevators that extend to the city from the floating island’s surface.

These are not normal enemies however. They are villains and monsters from the worlds of your muses (more information including guidelines in the FAQ section). While they walk, talk, and hit as hard as the real things, they are completely under NULL’s control and share their goals.

This is a grand battle that will be fought on two stages: on the island below and flying structure above.

Ofiuco has granted everyone their powers and abilities back, but is also enforcing a cap so the enemy forces can’t use game breaking powers. Since this is universal it will also affect the characters within the group (more information in the FAQ section).

For those that are powerless: you will be able to access your Fantasia avatars via the Spirale Alternate World Life app. This feature will be removed at the end of the event, and it will not work for characters that already have powers.

We will be running this poll until 12:01AM EST on May 1st. Based on the results the story and aftermath of the event will change.

FAQ

Everyone’s powers are unlocked but are there limitations like in part 1? Yes there are! Abilities used must be tier 6 or higher by vsbattlewiki standards. Obviously these could easily destroy an island, but while structures can be destroyed the island Spirale is on and the island in the sky are both impervious to damage from these attacks. If your character possesses an ability that exceeds this ranking you can tone it down, but some things are strictly off limits like conceptual abilities in certain instances (conjuring items or allies en masse, erasing existences, etc are not allowed). These guidelines are consistent between both sides so as not to break the world.

What’s this about Fantasia and the Spirale Alternate World Life app? Last summer we held an event called the Fantasia War where characters were placed in a fantasy setting with fantasy avatars. At the event’s conclusion we made Fantasia into an MMO game that can be accessed in the Intraspace, and everyone’s avatars have been preserved there. The SAWL app is an app we introduced to allow MMO characters (like from SAO) to be able to switch between their normal and game forms at will, and it is having its functionality temporarily boosted to let people use their Fantasia avatars, including the attached powers, during the event. This app will not show up for anyone that has powers of their own.

If your character was not present during Fantasia you can still create your own avatar! You can still find the list of available races here and list of available spells here.

Villains and enemies are pouring out of the flying island? What does this entail? Essentially what it sounds like. You will have the unique opportunity to bring in villains, monsters, or machines as agents of NULL. They will act as they would in canon, but are dedicated to their cause of destroying the city and killing off its citizens. There are, of course, limitations:

only one boss-tier enemy per mun per series can be brought in. you can bring in as many trash mobs (generic monsters, grunts, etc.) as you want, but you can only choose one powerful opponent. you can just say what kind of mobs might be running around for others to deal with in their threads, but the boss-tier foe must be controlled by you.

boss-tier enemies can be sentient, but they don’t have to be. if you want to bring in things like giant machines that are piloted by grunts, these still count as boss-tiers however.

you cannot bring in an enemy that exists on the masterlist

enemies, including boss-types, can be overlapped throughout a cast to avoid the possibility of someone claiming a boss just to deny other cast members from interacting with them. however do not have these duplicates interact / in the same thread.

The best way to keep this in order would be to make a post introducing the kinds of trash mobs you’d see running around as well as the boss-type you plan on controlling. People can then use the mobs in their threads if they choose, or approach you to interact with the boss. Likewise, you can keep the boss for more personal threads or drabbles. It’s really up to you!

I don’t really have any enemies in my series and I’m not comfortable using mobs from others. Are there any other options for what I can fight? Yes! The Shades are still around, as are a plethora of generic fantasy monsters for you to fight!

Are the weather conditions from part 1 still ongoing? No, those have come to a halt! However the island above blocks all of the weather in general.

Speaking of the floating island. We can go to the top, right? What’s up there? To put it simply: it’s a mess. Whether NULL had difficulty importing code or if it was just a big error, assets from every series imaginable compose the landscape. Maybe you’d see a building from BLEACH, but then one from Naruto right beside it. Some assets have even been merged together. Pieces of it glitch out and redesign constantly, so it’s almost a depressing mockery of Spirale in a way. There are hills and rivers too, but even those are constantly shifting position.

While tons of enemies have poured onto the streets of Spirale, there are plenty waiting on standby atop the flying island. To go it alone would be a terrible idea.

Can we destroy the flying island itself? No! You can destroy the structures on top but new things will eventually sprout up in their place. The ground and undersides seem to be protected by an impenetrable barrier. But even if you could, do you really want it crashing onto the city below?

Where should we put big, newsworthy posts during this event? Please use the tag ‘#isola sb2 news’ as opposed to the regular ‘#isola news’ tag during this part of the event. We anticipate a lot of people are going to want to do cool and interesting things that they want everyone to see so we want you guys to have a space for this, but we also do not want to clutter the regular news tag.

I have an additional question! Feel free to send it to the masterlist! Due to the nature of this part and all of the potential moving pieces we’re sure people may have questions or concerns that haven’t been covered.

When is part 2 expected to end? A week from now on May 1st at 12:00:01AM EST. We’ll likely be polling around the middle of the week to see if people would like an extension however!

#isola event #isola event: security breach pt2

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