#is that it’s a stark reminder that it’s a system so much bigger than you and there will be people who actively don’t care or disagree with

[oathofkaslana]

I guess the thing is that I didn’t necessarily want sumeru to have bad writing so part fo me is glad they’ve learned a lot from inazuma and it’s reception but im also pissed bc sumeru doesn’t even have good writing it’s just better than inazuma and you know it got a loooooot of white people/non-swana people who don’t care abt representation to brush off valid criticisms from swana people

[llynwen]

hi you're European right? I'm curious to know your thoughts about how the American south is portrayed in true detective bc I've been there and yes it's exactly like that but even moreso. Haunted ass beautiful country

Thank You So Much for such an interesting ask!

In the case of many europeans who were born before the Internet was such a big thing, we mostly learned about the us from films and shows. my childhood experience was watching reruns of spaghetti westerns and early 2000s rom coms, family comedies and kids movies, and feeling that the technicolor reality of america was somehow so much better than the Gray of eastern europe. the discrepancy isn't as noticeable now as it used to be when i was a kid, but you could Smell the post-sovietness some days. the life i saw in the movies was anything But the bleak, overwhelming reality of the early 2000s in my country that just made you feel nauseous and gave you a migraine. like i remember being Shocked at the technology of CDs and MP3 players. it was 2007.

the consensus was always that america was somewhere where everything was better. bigger. brighter. america was where you went to be happy. where you could breathe.

then, as i grew up, i obviously realized that this was a load of bullshit. i don't remember when the shift took place, but sometime in my teenage years, i suppose. by that time, my english has gotten good enough to actually participate in social media (that are predominantly american, like tumblr for example. i've been here for a decade) and actually engage in discourse. to learn about the Real america and what life looked like for the average person. and it wasn't great. guns, systemic oppression, privatized healthcare, the capitalist rot. none of that was present in the movies of my childhood.

now, in true detective, the south reminds me so much of how eastern europe felt in my childhood. it's nowhere near similar to it visually, the nature and architecture and people are all different, but it is Stifling, Suffocating, like the sky is gonna come down on your head. the ash and aluminum line actually describes it so good. what i was most surprised by, though, was the people. starting from marty (let's not focus on rusty here as we can all agree he doesn't really belong with the rest of the characters), he is a perfect example of the average family man. i love his character Because he's a shit and a cringeass loser, but in the scenes of him interacting with his daughters in '02, the feeling that he evokes in me is Disgust. and i feel like that's a common archetype of the father-provider that thinks his role in the house ends with making money. he sits in his chair, makes everybody miserable with his very presence, and expects the food to be brought to him. that man has never scrubbed a toilet in his life. i know men like him. i've met them, talked to them. i'm related to them. they're everywhere. that disgust feels intimate. now, the other characters that surprised me were the side characters, the people rust and marty go to question. tyrone's mother, the prostitutes, dora's friend at the scrap yard - they remind me of my people. now, i really don't want to come off as classist or some shit like that - but in both the show And my reality, the divide between the working class and the educated crowd is Stark. that is not to say that one is better than the other (i firmly believe that a lack of education can make you happier, if you think about it. content with a simple life, happy to work in a mine your whole life, live in a wielka płyta apartment and go to the sea once a year. if that. this is very specific to my region, sorry). the way those side characters talk, behave, even look - that is Nothing like the movies. they're not the flashy main characters, they're imperfect in every sense - they Look like people, have flaws, crooked teeth, they don't dress like supermodels, they can be stupid, they drink and smoke and cheat and lie. they're Human, not movie protagonists. and i love that reality in the show. makes it feel that much more authentic.

i don't know how specific that is to the south; are the people like that in other places? are the fishermen in luisiana the same as in minessota? is the suffocating feeling specific to the iberia parish, or is that just how it is in small town america? i dont know. the problem is, i wanna find out.

see, i never lost that childhood wonder. call me naive, but i still wanna Go. i still want to see the american dream with my own two eyes, even if it means i'm gonna watch it shatter in real time. i graduate college in a little over a year with a masters degree, and for right now my plan is to find a way to go work at a ranch in montana or wyoming. that's all i want. my favorite thing about america is not the culture, not the people, not the Possibility, but the Space. ironically, the stolen land is what compels me most. i want to experience that open space, to Breathe, and for the first time in my life feel my lungs filling up fully. i will be disappointed, full stop, but i want to have that experience.

the american south is a fascinating place to me, always has. the specific mix of cultures, the tradition and lack of it, even the bigotry and hate, it's all endlessly interesting. as you said, haunted but oh so beautiful. it scares the shit out of me. i need to go and feel it bite me.

[starshipsofstarlord]

💕 reader turns into a baby and obsessed with Bucky. Awww 🥺

Infant Issues

bucky barnes x reader / masterlist

warnings; fluff, morgan definitely being tony’s kid, biting, swearing, spoilers for IW and Endgame, mention of the blip, childish behaviour from adults, terrible humour (I really am sorry), spoiler for WV, mention of age gap, kinda a crossover, an absolute mess 😂

“Morgan?” Bucky frowned, as the girl tried to speed past him. It was not wise for anyone to allow the mischievous child run around the compound alone, she always got up to nothing but trouble, and there was such a glazing in her brown eyes.

She didn’t spare him a glance, instead, she bolted, causing the super soldier to sigh. He would have went after her if there weren’t already footsteps recurring from the path that she had just came from; it was his father. It so happened that there was a bundle of joy in his arms, crying like the sudden crack of dawn.

“What were you going to do, wait another five years to tell everyone about this one, Stark?” Bucky asked with a chuckle, though the cries from the infant muted at the sound of his voice. The child wiggled in Tony’s grasp, trying her utmost to reach out for the vibranium armed hero.

“She’s not my daughter, if she was, I think me and you would be having conversations.” Tony’s words spurred a frown to combust out onto Barnes’ face, and the billionaire sighed, shifting the baby so that the baby was in Bucky’s arms.

The child cooed up at him, her eyes were a baby blue, sure to avert possibly into a different colour once she grew elder. “Look, I didn’t ask if I could hold her, she’s cute, but why do you-“

“Morgan did it.” Tony willingly blamed his own daughter. With her various experimentations, she was definitely taking after him. He’d be sure to keep this one quiet from Pepper, otherwise he was almost certain that he’d be banned from bringing Morgan on expeditions to the compound.

“I though y/n was supposed to be watching her.” Stated the enhanced soldier, cocking his head at the information that he recalled. He promptly remembered you abandoning him half way through training the newbie recruits, because Happy was dropping Morgan off, and you had offered watch over her, despite the associate being there.

“She was, and now you’re going to have to watch over her.” Tony pointed specifically to the child in his arms, and that was when realisation hit Bucky. He gulped, breathing through his nose to calm himself, as all the pieces clicked perfectly together.

This was not just a child - it was you. As he gazed down at you, he could finally see the pouted expression that would fixate upon your face when you paid attention to him when you were drunk, there was a glazing over your eyes as you raised your small and innocent hands, scraping down the stubble of his chin, as you curled further into his arms.

“I am going to kill you.” He steadily spoke, huffing as Sam went to walk past, but stopped himself when he saw the bundle of joy that was content in the brooding soldier’s arms. 

“What the hell! Did you and y/n have a baby or something without telling anyone?” Oh, how he wished those were the circumstances, and if the pair of you were to ever have a child together, then he would be impartial to the idea of doing so.

"This is not my child, it's y/n, thanks to Stark over there." He bounced you in his arms, he even felt a small dribble of spit seep through his shirt, but he didn't mind, not as his icy glare was intently prized upon the philanthropist.

"Hey, it was my daughter's fault, not mine!" Tony excused himself from the blame, holding his palm against his chest, as he received as such. Sam ogled at him for a second, before returning his attention back into Bucky, and little you.

He came forwards, reaching his hand towards you, keening as you went to grasp his. As you did so, a smile broke out upon the man’s face, until it contorted into a sharp frown, the noise of a yelp escaping from his lips. “That little bitch bit me.”

“Language.” Steve rounded the corner, his golden brows raising when he saw the infant contently resting in his best friend’s arms. “Did you and y/n have a baby without telling us?”

“That’s what I said!” Sam beckoned to the blonde, as he averted a strong gaze to you and your normal sized partner. "Until she bit me, it reminds me of that time that I tried to steal her fries."

"I don't see why your complaining." Bucky rolled his eyes, bracing you up straighter so that your forehead was pressed lightly against his shoulder. "I'm the one whose partner is an actual child."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Sam rolled his eyes in reference to how you were beforehand, before Steve cut in, directing his leading tone towards the men that were stood idly by.

"What actually happened?" Tony found his enquiry to be an opportunity to avert the fault from himself; how lucky indeed was it that Steve asked such a thing.

"Technically it's your fault capsicle. Morgan found your prototype of your unsuccessful time machine. As you can see, she turned into a baby, much like Lang. And if you want to push the blame off of yourself, blame these two for their asses disappearing."

"Hey, if I wanted to disappear, I wouldn't have made such a dramatic exit. I'd have just left for my sister's." Crossing his arms, Sam shook his head at the man that was not wearing his iron suit. He was unable to take any responsibility, unless it was for his genius brain wave of creating the true transportation for the time heist.

"Well I'm going to keep that noted for any future repercussions." Oh, how Wilson regretting mentioning that now.

"You left it out, within your daughter's reach." Bucky quirked his brow, as he prepared to head towards the storage of the private laboratory that was shared between the two science bros.

"Technically, that was the big green guy." Bucky vouched not to listen to Stark, instead, he continued to walk, leaving the three other men in his rear view, though for the most part, he could still hear them bickering.

"Maybe we should turn you into a baby, I doubt much would change."

"Maybe we should turn you into a baby, I doubt much would change." Tony mimicked Steve, thus only proving his point. He was certainly a man that enjoyed pressing people's buttons, it was a shining attribute of the once playboy, and god, did it annoy the hell out of Barnes.

As he entered the laboratory, he found the lab to be in a state of havoc. "Hey, it wasn't me this time." Scott laughed, as he used an extinguisher against the frayed machine, that was blubbering sparks from its ruined exterior.

"Smash!" A small green child, wearing glasses that were far too big for him, ran across the room, followed shortly by a child with long blonde hair wrapped up in a red cape, as though it were some kind of makeshift diaper.

"Explain." Bucky bluntly stated, clenching his jaw, as he cooed lightly at your cries that pierced the air. He bounced you in his arms, not quite certain of what he was supposed to do.

In his time, there wasn't exactly an education system to teach the men going to war how to parent, or even care for a child. A part of him panicked; it was you, he hated seeing you cry in general, but now he couldn't attempt to find out the cause for your falling tears.

"Aw is that y/n?" The man half dressed in his ant man suit asked, a bright smile on his face, as he reached out to hold you. To say Bucky was hesitant to pass you to him was an understatement. "I have a daughter, I've looked after a baby before."

"From jail?" The white wolf asked, as he heard a crash exhibit from the connecting room, obviously being the fault of the two most destructive avengers, or at least, their little versions. Being aged down was definitely certification for trouble, everyone knew that.

"Okay I wasn't in there for that long." Scott reassured him, he picked up a bottle of milk from the table, handing it to the metal armed man, whom had never fed a child before. He found himself, cautiously, keeping a watchful eye, passing you over to the former criminal, intently watching every movement that the man made.

Lange simply fed you. "Always thought you and y/n would have a cute baby, imagine its- oh yeah, well after all that stuff that happened with vision and SWORD, we thought it best to destroy any technology that was recovered from the old base. This part survived, and well, I went into its- okay, you don't want to hear the science, but basically Thor insisted he could break it with his hammer, albeit whilst I was inside of it, and it sent energy around the room that turned them into pubescent children."

"I can see that it did nothing to you. And I thought Morgan did it.”

"I was so relieved, lucky I- wait, was that an insult?" Bucky remained primitively silent, and that answered Scott's question. The hero sighed, as you finished nursing, and your arms reached for Bucky, to whom he passed you to. “And I lied...”

He literally blamed a five year old for the screw up of grown men. Tony was going to thrive off this information, whence he knew that his daughter was in fact not the culprit.

"What do we do now?" He was eager to find a cure for this betrothed science. Those whom were responsible for your decrease in age, well, one was running around the compound, and the other, well, he was even younger than Morgan currently.

"You could wait twenty years, I mean you two already have quite a big age gap, and please don't kill me. I'm not sure that Cap would approve, I am a vital source to the team!"

"I'm not going to kill you tic tac. Or at least not at least until we fix these three."

"Phew." Scott wiped his brow, blowing air from his mouth. "Wait thre- oh yeah, the little guy carrying the hammer that is bigger than himself, and the

"Okay, we need someone smarter." Bucky sighed heavily, as he hugged you in thought. "You tried hitting it again with the hammer?"

"Oh my god, I could be worthy!" Gasped Scott, running off to the next room, only to come back limping, a pained expression on his face. "Little Asguardian bastard hit me!"

Bucky contained his smirk, and instead passed you to Lang, venturing into the other part of the lab, finding that Bruce was asleep, a blob of snot hanging from his nose, he could see the hammer in the middle of the room, almost as though it were waiting for him to attempt grabbing the handle, and Thor was-

The minuscule god jumped from one of the shelves, wrapping his arms around the front of Bucky’s neck, as he put all his weight on the super soldier’s back. In all practicality, Thor was strangling him, and Bucky tapped his arm, trying to convince him to let go.

“I know who Noobmaster69 is.” Thor quirked his head, lessening his hold, as he promptly awaited his now older friend to continue. “It’s, its- his name is Wade Wilson.”

“Wilson!” No, gosh no. Bucky stood completely, making sure to keep Thor in the vicinity, he needed him to be so so that he could reverse the affects on the son of Odin.

“Not Sam. Wade.” He had never met the man before, but god did he seem like a dick. When the pair of you were getting a taxi, the driver Dopinder just could not shut up about his friend, who liked to wear red, and had a kink for unicorns.

Wade certainly sounded like a weird one, but right now, his pass time was getting Thor to pick up that hammer. “Where can I find this Wade?” It practically left his mouth as a hiss, if the imagery and proven death supposed otherwise, he’d possibly think it was Loki instead.

“I will tell you, if you pick up that hammer, and hit it against that old machine. Got it buddy?”

“It’s name is Stormbreaker!” Bellowed the norseman, who tried to slide off his back, but Bucky kept a hold of his legs, refraining him from going anywhere. “Get peter to do it, I don’t want to play that game anymore!”

“Uuh, hi Mr Barnes...” That voice, oh he knew it, and the majority of the time it irritated him, he was Tony's little pet. “And, baby avengers?”

“Don’t ask kid.” Peter nodded, as he went to reach for a spanner. “Can you pick the hammer up, are you worthy?”

“Am I worthy?” He wondered aloud, his eyes fixated on the hammer, as he stepped towards it, holding his hand out, and clasping his palm around the handle, it feeling weightless in his grip, as he picked it up without effort. “Oh my god (it’s Robert Downey Junior)!”

“Great, now take it out there, I’ll deal with these two. And don’t do anything yet.” He was certainly feeling like a sergeant, throwing all the orders to the others, Peter complied, carrying the hammer as though it were an empty duffel.

“Can I try?” Instantly, after Peter passing it to him, Scott had such hope, until the force of gravity hit, and it fell on his foot, causing a light scream to ripple through his throat. “Get it off, get it off!”

Peter did so, as Bucky kept Thor on his shoulders, and grabbed a hold of Bruce’s chubby little ankle, dragging him into the other room. “Shit he’s heavy.” He saw that you were sat in the grand spinny chair, making Bucky relived that you weren’t in Lang’s arms as he attempted to have a moment of worthiness.

“What’d you do, go all Winter soldier on his ass and knock him out?!” Half screamed the prodigy of Hank Pym.

“Of course not, I think Thor did it.”

“Oh yeah, blame the kid because I did the same.”

“Put your suit from Stark on kid, unless you want to become a fetus.” Bucky ignored Scott for the moment,

“I got Hope to send her outfit, it will stretch to accommodate you, but I also think it would hug your shape nicely.”

“That was fast.” Muttered Peter, and Bucky shook his head, eyeing the outfit with weird eyes.

“I’m crazy, but not crazy enough to wear that.” Sighing, he grasped it in his hands, walking to the other room to squeeze into it. He noticed you watching, and thus he turned the chair around so that you couldn’t see anything. Little did he realise until he came out, that you had spun it around again, and was giggling. “Don’t laugh at me, or you won’t be allowed to see it when you’re returned to normal.”

A pout settled on your small lips, and it appeared as though you were getting ready to cry again, but before you could do so, a distraction intervened. An uninvited, and confusing one.

“Stop. Can I just say, that is some cruel declaration for the both of you, you’re my fave ship, after me and Hugh Jackman of course, but he doesn’t even know that this version of me exists.” A newfound imposter called out, his arms raised in the air. Leather gloves crinkled as he twitched his fingers, his white eyes freaking Scott the fuck out. “May I join you on this journey? I read about you guys in comics. And can I just say, I want to see these hunks and that hottie all grown up.”

“You want to see me go Winter Soldier on someone Lang?” Bucky gritted his teeth, prepared to murder this man for ever posing such words about you into the open air. Him speaking obviously drew some attention to him though, but it was not his rage that was mentioned, instead, it was his attire- or well, Hope’s.

“Nice suit Buck Buck. Can you do a twirl for me, I wanna see if it competes with America’s ass. Damn, does that man have some buns on him.”

“I know right!” Scott eagerly agreed, earning a smack in the nuts, to which had made him close to crumbling.“You had to use the metal hand, didn’t you.” Whimpered the Ant to the false Wasp, clamping his hands over his goods as he half hunched over. “I thought you often forgot to use it coz your right handed.”

“You’re on my left.” Gross, he sounded like Sam.

“Who the hell are you?” Thor spoke, and it felt familiar on his tongue. It was as though he had asked an enemy the same thing before...

“I, am Noobmaster69.”

“Hi, I’m Peter. Oh, we’re using our made up names, I thought Sam said it was that guy from that tech place.” Peter scratched his head through the mask, providing a small verbal distraction, as Thor willingly set himself free, launching at the intruder, whilst snatching the hammer from a suited up Peter.

“Aaasrrrghh.” He screamed like a true deity of the vikings.

“Thor, no!” Lang screamed, knowing that he’d have to come up with another excuse. The cameras had been fused whence Thor had first struck the hammer in the room, and it abused the guy in the red suit as he went for his legs, attacking the friend of Dopinder.

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Hi Dear Jalebi, I demand your analysis :)   What are your thoughts on IPKKND might have some typical track if the audience, TRP, actors departure didn't influence it otherwise? Let me explain, IPKKND was supposed to have a longer office track (that wasn't common though, I would've loved it) but the TRP was low, so Shantivan track was introduced. Then, I read that, Sana Maqbul (Lavanya) wanted to quit IPKKND, that's why the quick breakup???

Is that why they didn't give us the COMMON AF *jealousy and hero's ex GF turns villain* track? Then again, Anjali was jealous and sad about Khushi after the first reveal of Shyam, and it looked like track about Didi Ki Saut was beginning. But again ratings dropped and the fandom didn't react well (kinda protested), Anjali quickly stopped showing jealousy and Dadi was introduced to give ArShi a common saas-bahu vibe.

Hello Dear Analysis Anon!

I am going to over answer this with a lot of detail because I have a lot of thoughts, as always! Time to get into my thinking cape/coat:

This analysis is going to cover:

(1) every example you just mentioned,

(2) my thoughts on external things affecting plot of the story,

(3) things/plots/ tracks that could've been if not for external factors

Examples

1) IPKKND was supposed to have a longer office track (that wasn't common though, I would've loved it) but the TRP was low, so Shantivan track was introduced

As far as I can remember from one of the writers' interviews, the office track was cut short because this was a show on Star Plus - which, as a channel, caters to 'family audience' therefore needs to have sanskaar and stuff at its core. Hence the rude shortening of the office track and weird 'makeover' and 'desi-dying' Lavanya. And hence we had a very weird four months of an eighteen-twenty years old Khushi teaching someone about sanskaars and suddenly knowing everything about a household when Bua-ji or even Payal would've been a more apt choice for this 'tutoring'.

If this was a Star One show, they might've not shifted out of the office for the longest time!

2) Sana Maqbul (Lavanya) wanted to quit IPKKND, that's why the quick breakup??? Is that why they didn't give us the COMMON AF *jealousy and hero's ex GF turns villain* track?

I did not know that's why the quick end happened. Honestly that happened perfectly. I think Lavanya had an inkling about their relationship heading south right when Arnav told everyone he's getting engaged to her. But she chooses to not see it until one day she couldn't. Maybe we could've gotten more from La but if you see carefully, La clearly knows that this relationship is now just for face. Bless her heart for trying though, trying with a smile!

Also, again I think the writers never thought of making Lavanya a vamp. They had enough material with Arnav-Khushi's own differences, Shyam and Buaji playing enough roles to mess up Arnav-Khushi's love story. I probably think they always had planned Lavanya as a beautiful person who was unintentionally caught in all of this. I feel they planned La and Khushi's friendship - they clearly enjoyed writing two completely different people becoming closest of friends.

The writers/creators deserve full credit for this.

3) Then again, Anjali was jealous and sad about Khushi after the first reveal of Shyam, and it looked like track about Didi Ki Saut was beginning. But again ratings dropped and the fandom didn't react well (kinda protested), Anjali quickly stopped showing jealousy and Dadi was introduced to give ArShi a common saas-bahu vibe.

This is all true.

My Thoughts on External Things Affecting Plot

It's not necessarily bad that external things affect plot. Feedback, from channel or fans, can help the show to pivot and understand what is working and what's not. The problem is when feedback is implemented regardless whether or not it matches the theme of the plot.

I loved:

1) The channel moving out of the office because the power dynamic was too great and the contract terms were very unhealthy and Arnav Singh Raizada deserved to get sued at least 10 times by the end of this contract so yes, the shorter the office track the better. Literally the saving grace is they didn't "fall in love" there.

2) The fans protesting against Didi Ki Saut track. Not because I hated the track - I think it was executed in the worst manner! From identical visual languages to show Arnav-Anjali and Arnav-Khushi scenes (which didn't work to show Arnav being equally torn between the two most important women in his life, but just made the audience get creeped by Arnav-Anjali's relationship) and writing scenes of Anjali getting offended by Arnav-Khushi's intimacy/Arnav spending time with his wife, on her birthday, in his bedroom... did she expect Khushi would just *disappear* in a her and Arnav's bedroom? Like that was the worst way to show a compelling plot line and giving people some weird thoughts about Anjali-Arnav (which I hate because I LOVE Anjali-Arnav).

3) Barun walking out when the plot was literally done. Yes, thank you!

4) Barun going to do a movie led to the kidnapping track, which I liked a lot. No, not the nonsense of Manorama Bond fishing out Delhi's security camera footages in vintage recording system - but the fact that given the chasm and angst between Arnav & Khushi, only something bigger than their misunderstanding could force Arnav to give weight to his feelings and for Khushi to be able to forgive him. And his life was at stake. It was a sharp reminder to both of them that they lost so much by not communicating that it doesn't matter what they had to say - they loved each other, they just needed to get back and fight off everything together.

And then again, there are things I HATED that happened because of external factors:

1) The channel for the whole La becomes Desi. And the overdose of sanskaar and tradition that followed for a few months *uggggh* Clearly the channel demanded this from the plot because family, traditions and all are important to Star Plus (wtf are they thinking for Ghum Hai Kisi Ke? though or YRKKH?) And even the Aarav track and Mrs. India - two tracks with terrible execution - were very Star Plus recommended content. Just now Saath Nibhana Saathiya 2 had a Mrs. Surat/Gujarat track and Yeh Hai Chaahatein had a miracle child popping up...

2) The fans demanding Arnav & Khushi's proximity. The whole hut scene was *noooooo*. Lack of consent, body doubles, GLARING logical loopholes and them just trying to do it when one of them is really not in the mood and they were both so out of character. @phati-sari explains this really well in her post (just search for the hut to get all relevant posts on her blog)

3) Barun? Not exactly - he's never in control of the plot so really it's the writers that kinda know what to do with his presence and absence. Even if they get a short time, it's upto the creators who know if they use the last 2-3 weeks for stretching a random track as much as they can and give a rushed ending or quickly wrap up a crap track and give a satisfactory ending. A good example of this is Lavanya's exit - although rushed was dealt with grace, important conversations and memorable hugs. Bad one is the end of the show - I know Barun gave his papers but I wish they went the La way with the end of the show - important convos, teary hugs and a sweet moment (they tried their best tho...)

It's an ITV trend though to not plan for the end of a show... they stretch a crappy track as much as they can and have like a 2 min epilogue. Kasautii 2.0 was the funniest cause they had all misconceptions cleared, Komolika and Mr. Bajaj die and then have a weird 2 min pillow fight to show 'happy family'... guess in that way I'm glad we had whatever we did with IPKKND!

Possible Tracks Then

So if external factors didn't influence the show, we might have had the following:

1) A longer office track. It would end the way it did in canon though. I think it was prewritten that at one point Khushi would tear up the contract and hold him accountable for everything Arnav did. Just instead of 3-4 days it would've been 10-15 days after the contract.

2) Didi Ki Saut track. Honestly that was compelling if executed right. Sometimes you can have an antagonist without becoming a villain, Anjali the perfect character for that.

3) A separation track. I'm pretty sure Arnav-Khushi could have separated at some point in their six months marriage - this is just my inkling and not something I heard in an interview unlike the above two. If given full reign to writing, we probably would've gotten an angst heavy stuff at some point post marriage/6 months.

4) A remarriage track sans Dadi. We know why Dadi was introduced (honestly I didn't mind her, it was a track done well and kinda to redeem Arnav in front of the public eyes. It's a perfect track cause Arnav is 'nice' for standing up for her and kinda heals the wounds he caused in the first few months of the marriage by retorting someone who tells Khushi everything he told her...) But anyway I do think a remarriage was in the works, not because of TRPs but the way their whole 'marriage' was framed and how Khushi was broken because of the lack of everything in it. And they deserved one w/o the devastation that night brought.

5) The 'marriage' would've been a live in. Arnav and Khushi's elopement was supposed to be darker in nature*. Their 'marriage' would've had no religious nor legal validity, therefore a stark contradiction to everything Khushi stood for... but you can't have that in ITV. *By dark I don't mean sexual violence - never.*

6) The whole IPKKND was meant to be darker. I am glad for the romantic comedy though! I think their balance of angst and comedy pre marriage was perfect! Not sure post marriage because it felt like a loop of going back to square one with no progress. But I think things were meant to be less subtle, more tragic and dramatized. So I think we could've gotten extremely angsty periods post marriage with a slow, gentle lull to the romance/comedy. While I am extremely glad for the lightheartedness, I wish I could've read what the whole original concept for Arnav/Khushi was!

7) Arnav revealing the truth to Khushi would've been different. We know the distasteful suicide track quickly came as a way to push Arnav's buttons and have him confess the truth of his elopement to Khushi. And that came from Barun going away - hence the quick kidnapping track and everything. So if Barun didn't go away, I honestly don't know how the revelation would happen. Would Arnav start piecing things together from information and things about Shyam in Laxminagar? Would Arnav end up helping and hospitalizing Shashi who would tell him the truth? Would Arnav come across any hidden wedding card Buaji could've had printed for Shyam-Khushi or even Shyam's fake kundili? Given the Gupta house wasn't the place where Shyam covered his tracks... was this where Arnav would start seeing things? Or guilt ridden, would Garima/Khushi/Madhumati tell Arnav the truth? Something was meant to happen for this revelation, whether it's Arnav believing Khushi or just getting further evidence against her - I... don't know! I wish I knew what the writers had in store.

We highly appreciate for not showing a typical Nanand against Bhaabi trope, also for not making La villain, but would it result differently if things didn't have a hand? Imma cry thinking Anjali jealous and La villain! meh!  What a feast for the eyes it was to see ONLY ONE VILLAIN and less negativity in a tellywood show. Baas bohut hua my casual verbiage. By demand I mean no pressure, please take your valuable time and reply whenever you feel like it.Take Loads of Care and Chocolates your way <3

I hope the above answered all your queries :) Thank you for all the chocolates and care!!!

Phew this was rather long! A big hug to anyone who went through it! See ya later!

- Jalebi

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 7)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4,235 words 

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Chapter Summary: Some of Bucky's inner feelings towards Y/N gets revealed on their first day on their own.

Full Masterpage | Part 6

STEVE was the one who tightened your velcro backpack around your small shoulders.

You continued to stare into the rising sun behind the blowing trees. It must’ve been a little after 5 AM, since the orange clouds were beginning to mix in with the dark blue of a new sky, announcing the arrival of a brand new day.

Today was the first day of your mission with Bucky, and to say you were fixated on your ultimate goal was an understatement.

The camp didn’t have a running shower, but they had a secluded and private area off to the side that provided warm water and some soap made with lye and lard. The water had to be heated up overnight by an attended fire and then left for an hour before you had to get ready to let it cool down.

When one of the girls had handed you the freshly made bar, the look she gave you scared you.

She had a certain fear in them that you couldn’t quite place and it shook you to the bone.

Was she unhopeful for your return?

When you had entered the little shower, which was just four pieces of wood tall enough to cover your most intimate areas, and you dunked your mud cup into the warm water, you definitely felt like you were being prepared like a sacrificial lamb.

You felt like you were being cleansed and prepared for death.

But as you rinsed away the lye off your skin, and you shuddered against the cold winter air which was beginning to feel like sharp knives, you quickly shoved those thoughts away.

You had to focus on your goal and what it was you were actually being prepared for. This was your opportunity to give your parents what they deserve; the outcome they would want.

After your shower, you quickly dried yourself off with a long and grey rag that had been draped over the “door” for you, and you slid your arms into your heavy coat.

Quickly, to avoid getting the flu that could potentially kill you faster than any other virus ever could, you ran into your tent and slid on your attire.

It was the same one you had worn before you arrived, but Jessica had been extremely kind to you and had it washed and folded stacked neatly next to your cot.

After you zipped on your boots, Steve had shown up and ran the information with you before your departure.

None of you knew exactly how life in The Capitol was.

There had been just one agent who had ever been close enough, and it had been about a year ago.

Bucky had sent Sharon to collect information that would be vital to help their mission, including how the people in The Capitol dressed, how they wore their hair, how they behaved, and if they used any kind of special currency.

Apparently, the clothing they wore, you would have to buy when you got there. It would be possible for the camp to try and knit them so that when you arrived you would fit in right away, but unfortunately, it would not protect you during the three-day walk to get there.

There was nothing different regarding hair or currency, which was a very helpful piece to learn. It meant you and Bucky would not need to go under any crazy makeovers.

Any specific makeup look or hairdo you preferred, you were free to do as you pleased when you arrived.

The only tricky part of getting into The Capitol and not being caught was your identification.

Anyone who resided within The Wall carried a hologram ID that presented your picture, name, resident number, and occupation.

If there was anything Tony Stark left behind, it was his knowledge and technology that had been left behind and protected.

You don’t know how they managed to save nearly all of it from the war and the bombing, but you didn’t ask questions. It didn’t surprise you that the avengers would go through such measures to have a legacy and vital equipment protected.

It had been just enough for Bruce to take it into his own hands and build an almost identical replica of the hologram ID that you and Bucky would need to present in order to do simple tasks like request a hotel room or enter an important building.

You didn’t take Bruces’ hard work for granted; apparently it had taken almost a year and a half just for him to make them.

It would still be a risk when you used your identification because even though your resident number was chosen with an advanced Linux method if it were to hit a miss in Hydra’s system, you and Bucky could be screwed.

Your arrival in the city would simply be accepted by luck.

Steve continued to tighten your backpack as he reminded you of what would happen when you and Bucky both arrived there.

First and utmost important, you would need to find a place to live. According to Sharon, there was a residency area not too far from the center of the city. You would go there and try to get a room.

Next, you and Bucky would need to discover your surroundings.

What was Hydra doing there? Where is Hydra’s main building? Were there anyone there that could possibly be there against their will? How did The Capitol work? What was life there like?

You would then need to set up your false identity, which would be the majority of the mission.

Once you both found where Hydra’s main focus was and from where they worked, you would need to find your way in. You would need to gather as much intel and information about everyone as much as you could.

That is when the team had presented you with an additional ID card, except this one was physical and just a regular white laminated card.

It was a resumé and well thought out employment card, which you and Bucky would use to apply at a Hydra Facility (but not the same one to not induce suspicion). This was an important key to the mission that both you and Bucky were reluctant on participating on, but after much consideration, it was concluded it was essential to winning this.

After you found out everything you both needed to know, after the six months, you would both escape and return to camp with the intel and information gathered that could successfully bring The Capitol’s society down.

One of them being the ring leader’s location. It would be important to the mission to not have anything destroyed, especially The Wall.

This was the part of the mission you did not like.

Because you would not leave The Capitol without having that man from the diner killed.

Part of you felt bad for secretly planning how to divert the avenger’s plan, but at the same time, you now knew that Bucky was also planning something that could potentially shock everyone.

You considered saying something to Steve as he made sure you had everything in your pack - food, blankets, med kit, and a gun with a silencer (the only thing you were allowed) - but you went against it as you remembered your promise to him.

He wanted you to help Bucky love himself again and to feel like he was meant for something more.

As you both walked out of the tent and fully into the outside world, right away you saw Bucky already strapping his own bag over his shoulder.

You know his bag held the same things yours did, except his held a military gun that would serve to protect you during the walk.

Unfortunately, you would not be allowed to take any weapons with you into the city. They would be left dug into a hole and abandoned.

Your heart skipped in your chest as you observed his dominating aura.

He wore attire similar to yours, except a male version. He had a black coat with a hood that strapped across the front of his chest. Attached to it was a hood similar to yours. You could tell he had layers of clothing under his jacket for protection, and his pants were thick and tucked into heavy boots.

A pair of leather gloves covered his hands. He was tightening the one over his metal arm when he looked over at you.

His eyes were dark and his teeth clenched as he looked you up and down. You quickly looked away and back at Steve.

Steve was tightening your tracker around your wrist.

“Remember, this will only keep you off their radar for ninety seconds and it can only be activated twice. You can only use it when you enter and leave the city,” you were in a daze as you felt the need to look up at Bucky again. The pull was inevitable, “Y/N,” Steve’s tone was sturdy and you blinked at him, “Got it?”

He looked at you apprehensively, his grip tight over your hand. You swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Got it. Just twice. Entering and leaving.”

He nodded and pulled the sleeves of your coat halfway up both hands.

He gave you one more look and then nodded with his head towards Bucky, backing away from you, and walking towards Bucky’s direction.

You flexed your toes in your boots and held tightly onto the handles of your bag.

You took a deep breath and followed Steve towards Bucky.

Bucky looked at his boots and flexed his hands.

You didn’t realize how much bigger he was than you until now. Maybe it was his clothing, maybe.

You cleared your throat and he looked up at you through heavy lashes.

You wondered where he had been this morning while you were showering. It’s then that you catch sight of his heavy and dark bags under his eyes. Had he been up all night?

“Didn’t sleep?” Your question comes out before you mean it to and Bucky’s gaze quickly darkens.

“No.”

You sigh deeply, not knowing if you were more annoyed by his attitude towards you that clearly hadn’t changed or if you felt bad. You hoped his lack of sleep wouldn’t create more crankiness or mess-ups.

“Unlike you, I don’t need it.” He adds. He looks up towards the sky, making his sharp jaw visible to you and you curse the world for making him so attractive. You wondered then what kind of boyfriend he was to Daisy. And you wonder about the rumor of him and the Wakanda girl. Did he sleep with her? Was he good? Your questions in your head are interrupted as he continues, “We should get going. The sun is getting brighter and we can’t afford to lose one more day.”

Steve looked at you both like you were his two children going off to their first day of college and then he saluted you both goodbye.

Not one word was shared as you followed Bucky into the woods until what felt like three hours later.

The entire way, he hadn’t been kind enough to slow down for you, so you trailed behind him by at least fifteen feet.

You didn’t want to admit to defeat, but your lungs were burning and your legs were too. It wasn’t until he briefly stopped that you thanked the heavens.

As you caught up to his side, you saw what he had paused to look at.

There in front of you was an entire city. It was destroyed, defeated, and reeking of death and evil.

The broken and sharp metal of what had once been pretty buildings were now pointed into the sky. Heavy dust with lingering smoke, that had never gone away, still floated above the city like a dark halo.

You swallowed painfully, thirsty, and afraid.

Sure, he was an avenger, but the bacteria...

You looked at him, unsure.

“Bucky, we can’t go through the city. We have to stay on the outskirts,” he ignored you, taking a step forward and commencing his walk towards the city. You watched, unmoved, “It’s too dangerous, Bucky, we don’t know what is in that air—” You finally sighed and ran up to him, pulling on the sleeve of  his coat, “Bucky—“

He quickly snapped around to look at you, “We are going through the city. You think I came all this way for safety? You think I care? You think I’m some kind of coward? That we’ll just be taking the easy way out for everything? Or do you actually have any courageous and strong bone in that pathetic body of yours?” His words attack your ego and you practically flinch at the last question, slowly letting go of his sleeve. He’s breathing hard through his nose and you watch as he runs a hand over his face. He points back with his metal arm, “It’s the quickest route. We’re on atimed schedule. I don’t have time for safety or convenience. I’ll go alone if that’s what it takes. Come with me or not.”

He doesn’t bother giving you another glance before commencing his walk into the destroyed city.  You practically hear the howl of the wind and you pull the hood higher over your head.

You consider his words. You were trying to be safer, but he was right. This would be the quickest way and it wasn’t like you weren’t at least partially prepared for this.

You took a deep breath and followed him.

Bucky wouldn’t admit it, but he was momentarily shocked when he saw you right next to him.

He took the first step into the pavement, a dry leaf crunch under his boot. The sound echoed in the air.

You were both faced with what once was the main road, fallen traffic lights and power lines lined the street.

Cars were overturned, some destroyed completely either by fire or vandalism. The buildings, if they weren’t destroyed, were broken into and also vandalized. Overgrown shrubs were beginning to grow over the street signs and into the cracks of the sidewalk.

It was also terrifying how quiet it was.

You didn’t trust it.

It was obvious Bucky was reluctant just as much as you because his pace matched yours, and at some point, he had even pulled out his gun.

Your eyes darted around as you passed the empty cars and buses. One of the cars even had what appeared to be kids' toys - a stuffed teddy bear and a baby mirror - and you shuddered looking away, not wanting to know what happened here.

Bucky’s gun followed his eyes and immediately you wondered how long its been that he’s left camp.

“How long has it been since you’ve been outside like this?” You ask.

He’s quiet as you both step over a fallen street sign that advertised some kind of clothing brand, and you take his silence as an answer, giving up.

“A while.”

You’re surprised that he responded and your eyebrows shoot up.

You wait a minute and take another bite.

“Not used to it anymore, huh?” He doesn’t respond, “I can tell.”

“Is this your idea of small talk?” He snaps.

“I’m just trying to make conversation. I’m stuck with you for the next six months, might as well.”

“No. I’m stuck with you.”

You have to force yourself not to roll your eyes. Your joyous walk continues for a few more miles until you both turn onto a street where a train now lies.

You both stare at it, confused and surprised, wondering how the hell it got there. But judging by the entry holes on the buildings on either side, it was obvious that it had probably been thrown by means of an explosion of some sort.

And you would both have to somehow get around it.

As you approached the train car, you and Bucky came to a halt.

“I’ll go first since I’m heavier. Make sure it doesn’t topple over or isn’t booty-trapped.” Bucky says, tightening his bag strap over his body, “Stand back.”

You did as you were told and watched from a small distance as he began to climb into one of the cars which had its doors still open. Some bodies that had been reduced to skeletons were still inside.

You held tightly onto the straps of your backpack, apprehensively.

Eventually, Bucky had hopped out on to the other side with a huff.

He turned to face you.

“Your turn.”

You took a deep breath and a step forward, the leaves and glass debris breaking under your feet.

Your eyes met, and once again it was like that first time he saw you in the tent.

You looked down at the cart cautiously before stepping onto it. You clenched and unclenched your right hand, and with your left, you used it to help hoist yourself onto the train.

It rocked beneath your weight with a heavy groan and your eyes shot up to his in fear.

He leaned his right arm on the side of the car for support, and with his left, he stretched it out for you to take.

You look down to where he stood on the ground, and you swallowed, scared at how far the jump looked.

He wiggled his fingers and you were about to stretch your own arm out to take his hand when you saw something move behind him.

A man.

“Oh, my God.”

It was too fast for you to even recollect what happened, but suddenly you were on top of Bucky. You were screaming and he was cursing and you saw the silhouette of the man next to you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Bucky shouted, until fully turning around to see what you were looking at.

He cursed before pulling you behind him to shield you. He ran you both back towards a destroyed building on the far side of the street and finally aimed his gun at the man who was groaning, a green/black substance oozing out of his mouth like foam.

Bucky didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger, sending multiple gunshots into the man’s chest. He fell forward onto the street, dead.

You stumbled back and found Bucky’s hold on you soothing before he roughly pulled away and looked down at you, disappointed.

“Seriously?”

You inhaled deeply through your nose, feeling the dig of the building behind you.

How dare he snap at you for protecting him.

“You asshole. He was about to —”

“I don’t need you to protect me. If anything, you made it worst.”

“How the hell did I make it worst?” Bucky snarled, “What if I fell on him, huh? What if we both did?”

“But we didn’t!” You could feel your heart in your veins; in your head.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he swung his gun back down, relaxing his stance.

“Jesus fuck.” He mumbled under his breath, walking away from you, “I don’t know how you survived three years. It’s like it’s a joke to you.”

You feel your tears in your eyes before you push yourself off the wall and walked right past him so this time you were the one leading the way.

“I do what I can.” You mumble.

“Pathetic is what you are.” You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t. Your pace grew faster as he continued on, “You don’t—” he grabbed onto your arm, making you quickly turn around and face him. You didn’t hide the tears and you knew very well he could see them. He looked into your eyes with his pretty blue ones, “You don’t hesitate to save your own life,” he tucked your scarf that had come loose tighter around your face, and for a second you thought maybe and finally, he had a change of heart. But his next words killed that as he stepped away, dropping his hand, “We can’t risk getting infected. And I can’t risk you getting me infected, either. I might be a super soldier, but we don’t know how that thing affects people like me.”

Him. It was always about him and his safety.

“What about me? What about me getting infected or killed?” He took a step closer to you.

“You signed up for this. You know the risk.”

He walked past you.

“So I should care about your life, but not about mine?”

“What I’m saying is you need to be careful.” You were about to say something else when he finished with, “Now tie your boots before you get us both killed by you tripping onto me.”

With a snarl, you looked down to see that, indeed, your left shoe was untied.

Shit.

An hour after your fight, the winds grew stronger and your visibility was down to two feet. You hadn’t spoken to each other since, and to be fairly honest, it’s not like you wanted to speak to him anyway.

After the winds had calmed down, you had both made it through the city and were now walking through what had once been crops. Now it was just coarse sand and rough rocks.

You wanted to ask him if you could rest for a few minutes, at least to have something to eat. But you were so afraid of what he would say to you.

But as you both walked and walked, it became harder.

Eventually, you stopped, and he also stopped to look at you. Your face was crestfallen.

“I’m not a super soldier like you. I need to eat. Maybe have a sip of water.”

Bucky looked you down but then turned and continued walking again.

You wanted to cry.

Did he want you down on your knees? Would that be enough for him?

After a few minutes, you reached forest land again.

You watched as Bucky walked off to the left side and sat against a tree.

You wanted to cry in relief.

You practically ran to him, sitting next to him against the tree. You pulled off your backpack and he did the same with his.

You both sat there, chewing on some nuts and fruits and sipping water.

Afterward, Bucky threw his eaten apple into the leaves and rested his head up against the tree.

You took that moment to observe him, but not making it too obvious.

Your promise to Steve resonates in your head.

He looked so young to you that you began to wonder how old he was, biologically. There was no way he was older than thirty-eight. You felt pity that he suffered so much so young.

“Can I ask you something?” You know you were fetching far. But screw it. His answer, was a tilt of his head and a peak of a blue iris at you, “how old are you?”

He squinted his eyes at you, “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I know you’re in your hundreds, but biologically?”

He looked away from you and closed his eyes again. His mouth was in a straight, harsh line.

“A lot older than you.”

You bit your lip, looking away.

“I miss my life before this. I miss Netflix and Spotify. Damnit, I miss Halsey.” His expression is unchanged, “Did you ever have a favorite song? You know, before — before everything?”

He knows what you’re asking but he doesn’t answer you. Instead, he runs two hands down his face and announces that you should both get going again.

You’re disappointed.

You had quickly gotten over the fact that he would never like you, if anything he hated you, but you both needed to find a common ground of respect, especially if you would be spending this much time together.

But he still wouldn’t abide by you. It was like he just didn’t care. Were you going to have to show him your true colors?

Eventually, the sun was beginning to set and Bucky suggested you both should set up camp.

He built a fire using wood and a lighter while you laid down both your blankets. He eyed you over the fire as you put his blanket straight across from his.

He wanted to thank you but his words wouldn’t come out. He was still stuck on the question you had asked him.

After the fire was just right, he tucked himself onto his uncomfortable grey blanket and laid his head on his arm.

Your eyes closed tightly together as you tried your best to go to sleep. You folded your knees against your small chest into a fetal position, to keep warm.

Bucky watched you from across the fire. You were a good girl.

But you shouldn’t be doing this. You were the kind of girl that was supposed to live in the aftermath of the successful mission, not the one fighting for it. You were going to get hurt.

Just like he did.

And he hated you for it. You were so young and had so much to live for.

He hated that he felt so many emotions for you that made him want to scream at you and make you go away. He wasn’t sure what they were but he knew none of them was anything romantic.

He would never feel that way about anyone else ever again.

He turned around in his blanket and closed his eyes tight together.

He did have a favorite song.

[littlespaceporgs]

for a second

pairing: kit fisto x reader word count: 2.2k warnings: language, references to O66, mild references to depression, i think that covers it? prompt: 11. Morning kisses that are exchanged before either person opens their eyes, kissing blindly until their lips meet in a blissful encounter.

a/n: when i started writing this, the intent was to be fluffy. and then i wrote it angsty. you're in for a ride with this one, dear reader. click here to read my other works!

being a jedi must be hard you supposed. before the war, they seemed to just float on air, like butterflies in the forests of endor. ethereal beings, untethered from the ground, unattached to anyone who wasn’t their own. now, in wartime, they were down to planet, though not in the usual way.

the ones you knew seemed flat, heavy with burden. exhaustion and sadness seemed to follow them around, dangling off the back of their necks. jedi used to roam the streets of coruscant, going to schools to meet with children, waving and nodding at people on the streets. now if you did manage to see one, they kept their heads low, shielded by their hoods. the message they carried with their presence had changed in that sort of way also.

if, by some strange twist of chance, you looked into their eyes, they just looked so… tired. drained by constantly travelling to system after system, seeing and feeling so many losses. light and content smiles had long since been replaced with drawn frowns and the light they brought into the room disappeared.

you saw it in kit fisto mostly. he was a regular appearance in your apartment. regular in terms that he kept coming back, however infrequent his visits had become. there was an extra bagginess under his eyes that hadn’t been there three years ago. the first steps of the war hadn’t shaken him too much, besides the added exhaustion, but after nahdar, he quickly started reflecting the other masters.

every time the door slid opened you waited with bated breath, though you typically knew if it was him before you saw him. a subtle flick in the back of your mind, and a soft glide on the base of your neck, followed by a knock. he’d tried explaining it to you once. how the force can connect individuals no matter how far, almost creating invisible strings and ties to others. how if it was done right, emotions, thoughts, could be projected to another with clarity. you just knew that it meant that he was alive when a warm presence engulfed your mind, feeling like an old familiar sweater over the cold months, and made you take a deep breath and comfort you.

last night was no different, you weren’t expecting him back, but as soon as he brushed your mind again you knew. he’d half dragged himself through the door, he only waited for the door to close before drawing you in. one hand cupped the back of your head, pushing it into his chest, the other around your back, gripping the back of your cardigan. he hadn’t spoken a word, but just dropped his head on yours, eyes sliding shut. he hadn’t spoken much for the rest of the night, not beyond the quiet loves, or to say that he wasn’t going to be here for long.

now in the morning, you hadn’t even opened your eyes yet. you knew that once he was awake, and when he knew you were awake, he’d probably have to start getting ready to leave again. so selfishly, you refused to open your eyes. you could feel the sun slipping in, reminding you of a new day. it was warming your hand on his chest, and despite it shining directly on your face, you refused to move.

the bed shifted on your side, so you knew he had twisted around to face you, and his hand had scooped yours off his chest. warm lips lightly pressed against your knuckles, and you heard him inhale deeply.

“good morning,” his voice rumbles in your ears, gruff from sleep still. you sighed, and held onto hope that maybe he wouldn’t have to leave again. without opening your eyes, you stretched your neck upwards, in the general direction of where his face would be. he met you halfway, gently pressing his lips to yours. it was slow, and much too short for your liking, but he simply stayed with his forehead against your own.

“how’d you sleep?” you mumbled, and received a breathy, short laugh from the nautolan.

“much better than how I did when I was away.” you hummed in acknowledgement. you could feel his eyes tracing your face, smoothing out all the stress that had come as he left.

reluctantly, you blinked your eyes a few times, to rid yourself of the morning blur. one of his hands grazed along the side of your face, pushing the hair aside, tucking it behind your ear. he was finally wearing a smile, soft and lighting up his face, pushing the stress lines that had formed upwards. you stared into his eyes, admiring the familiarity. many things about him had changed, his eyes had not. though you didn’t want to ask it, in fear of what the answer would be, you needed to know how much time you could hold onto.

“when,” you sighed mid-sentence, “when do you have to go?” he closed his eyes, and his smile turned to a frown.

“I’m not sure, it will be soon though. the council will call me when I’m expected.” despite knowing that would likely be the answer, you still sighed. the disappointment must have been palpable as he squeezed your hand a little tighter. as you went to speak again, your breath caught in your chest. before you’d even realised it there was anger burning in your stomach, pricking at your eyes and stinging your throat.

it wasn’t fair.

he sat up, pulling you with him. idly you felt his hand on your cheekbone, tracing it down to your jaw and along your lip. as you started breathing heavily from your nose, there was a familiar tingle in the back of your mind. it did nothing to distract you.

it wasn’t fair.

it wasn’t fair to him. it wasn’t fair to the galaxy. it wasn’t fair to all the innocents that got wrapped up in this. it wasn’t fair to the world leaders. it wasn’t fair to the clones. it wasn’t fair to the jedi. it wasn’t fair to you. it wasn’t fair that it felt so cold here despite the warm sun outside.

you felt bad for thinking it. you knew it was selfish. that there were bigger things. but fuck, it wasn’t fair.

you deserved him being close. you deserved to have him home every night. you deserved to have amazing days in the sun with him, not hiding in the shadows and behind close windows. you deserved kit being present, a constant in your life, the one thing that would be sure through everything.

hell even he deserved more. he deserved to wake up in his own bed. he deserved to have his girlfriend by his side. he deserved the choice to leave the order when he was ready, not be thrown into war. he deserved to be able to smile every day.

it just wasn’t fair.

you wanted to relax into him again. to forget that he had to leave. you wanted to hold his face in your hands and plant kisses along his forehead, over the creases around his eyes.

instead, you stood up from the bed, pulling away from him. you wrapped his robe tighter around your body as you peaked through the crack in the curtains, looking over coruscant. it was light outside, a stark contrast to the interior of your home. though you couldn’t see it, you could feel him frowning.

the bed groaned when he stood, and was accompanied by his bare feet padding on the floor. he rested a hand on your shoulder and half pulled you towards him, though you averted your eyes and looked towards the floor.

“what’s going on?” you chewed on your lip, and tried your best to not look him in the face. you’d probably crumble.

he said your name, barely speaking. his hand on your face turned you back up to him. when you met his eyes, you could see the sadness that pooled there, and made your throat sting again.

“it’s not fair, kit. you shouldn’t have to be out fighting a war that you have no part in. you should be here with me, or, or sparring or even on an aide mission, not fighting a war!” the stress was eating you alive. you pulled your hands through your hair and tried to choke back the sob. gods you knew it was wrong, but fuck, the anger was sitting at the forefront of your mind.

his hand had drifted off your shoulder.

“I understand how you’re feeling,” an indignant part of your mind supplied a ‘no, you don’t’, the corner of his mouth twitched further downwards, and pulled a piece of your heart with it. “but there are people out there who need-”

“you think I don’t fucking know that, kit!” it was all spilling over now. a tidal wave that you had been holding back for months all crashing at once, you wanted to stop. please, just stop. but you couldn’t. it just kept going. didn’t he know you just wanted him to be safe? “it’s like you’re never here anymore! you don’t smile, I can’t even remember the last time you walked in here smiling!”

you were crying now, and you desperately wanted it to be over. fuck, please just shut your mouth. “and then when you are here, we don’t talk! we just sleep together, it’s like we’re not even in a relationship anymore! I get that you’re tired and that war sucks, really I do,” you pulled your hair again, taking another step back and taking a breath. his face looked even more drawn out then before, and his eyes seemed to droop. he looked like he was sinking into himself.

you tried to take another deep breath, but all that occurred was a shudder. “I know that people need yo-” a sharp chime came from the communicator on the table. there was no movement. you just kept staring at each other. you tried to blink some of the tears as he opened his mouth again. his lips only fell open however, but all you wanted to do was kiss him. you wanted to hold him so close, and all the anger had left was sadness and regret.

his mouth moved again and his chest heaved, and it looked like he was going to speak. and then the communicator beeped again. higher pitched and faster this time. his face turned between you and the communicator several times before it beeped again. he breathed out a short string of curses and made his way to the table. you could only turn back towards the sliver of light coming through the window. the ships in the sky twisting around each other felt like they were in your stomach.

“master fisto, your report to council is required.”

“when?” his voice was gravlier then usual, and he ran his hand down his face.

“as soon as possible, we have delayed the meeting as long as we can. we’re afraid this can’t wait any longer.”

“very well. I will be there shortly.” the apartment fell into silence again. the only sound was the occasional speeder zooming past outside. he opened his mouth to speak again.

“no, please just go, kit.” you cut him off, removing the outer robe from your form. you could only describe it as the tensest moment as he tentatively took it back. your mouth suddenly felt dry.

“I-I’m sorry. I never meant to...” his voice trailed off, and you swiped a sleeve along your eye. you know it's not his fault, you know that. you only nodded, but still couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the face.

“I know.”

he seemed like he wanted to say more. you knew that you wanted to. you wanted to take it back, but it didn’t seem like any of those things were going to happen.

“we’re going to talk about this as soon as the meeting is over, i-I promise.” he paused for a second, as if he were mulling over his next words. “I love you.”

you heard the door slide open, and you squeezed your eyes tighter.

“I know.” he made a few quiet sounds towards the door. then the rustling of a cloak as he pulled it over his tresses. he stopped in doorway, and for a second you didn’t think that he was going to leave. that he’ll stay. that he’ll com the jedi, saying that he’s not coming back. that you’ll both fix things. that you two can go off and help whoever needs it in your own way, together. together.

but it was just for that second.

for the second after, he took a step forwards and out of the apartment and door slid shut behind him. the warm feeling retreated from your mind, and left it cold and empty. now you let out the sobs that had been stuck in your chest, burning up. gods you should’ve said I love you back. you could still make it out the door, chase him down. but for whatever reason, you don’t.

3 hours later your own communicator pings from your desk. it was a short message. he was called away again, straight after the meeting. it was coruscant based so it hopefully wouldn’t be long. he said it was big, that the war will end, because they found the sith lord they had been searching for. he said that he would come home to you, and for a second, you saw a glimmer of hope on his face. he said 'I love you' and it seemed to linger through the recording. he said that everything was going to change.

nothing could have prepared you for what change would bring.

tags for my lovelies <3: @valkyrieofthehighfae @hounding-around @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @mcu-padawan @crxwblood @captainrexstan @anakin-danvers @queenevac @raeshin @venomous-ko @onabouteverything @leias-left-hair-bun @a-dorin

let me know if you want to be added/removed to/from the taglist!

[olivarryprompts]

Fanfic Friday #11

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I post a new here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read and save it on A03 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/33567529

{fancy suits from dad}

Ships: Peter Stark & Tony Stark, Pepper Pots/Tony Stark

Warnings: swearing, just fluff otherwise :)

Wc: 2,319

Here’s the thing, Peter Parker grew up in Stark Tower, which eventually became Avengers Tower of course. So whilst his whole class was buzzing about their field trip, all he could think was, “shit, shit shit.” His dad was going to embarrass the hell out of him. His Aunts and Uncles were going to endlessly tease him.

So, no Peter was not looking forward to the field trip. Not in the slightest. He still wanted to go, though. He knew that the rumors of his internship being fake were started by Flash, the annoying teen. He also knew that Flash had not once said his real name, preferring the name Penis Parker. It didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Also since highschool began, Flash had calmed down with his bullying. Well, maybe Flash hadn’t calmed down and high school was just bigger and he had thicker skin. And a new support system with plenty of people to go to.

Peter had been adopted by the Starks when he was a mere ten years old. At first, he was terrible at receiving any gifts or even too much attention. Slowly but surely, he got more and more used to it. Now, he wouldn’t not know what to do if any of that was taken away. Plus, he really did find a liking for expensive suits, however shallow. He looked good in them, and his father always insisted on buying him more and more. Tony would always find an excuse to spoil the kid a little more, however much Pepper tried to stop him.

“Peter, please see me after class regarding an urgent matter.”

Brough out of his thoughts, Peter swiftly nodded his head.

He looked at the board to see the words from before still written on them, “Field Trip to Stark Industries!” It might as well have said, “Dig Peter Stark’s Grave!”

“So, let’s get started with today’s lesson, graphing imaginary numbers on the complex plane!” He’d done this one a while back with his father. Something about not only learning applicable science and engineering. Peter tapped his glass, and the episode of Arrow he’d been watching on the car ride over began playing. He’d be ever grateful for his father’s gift of EDITH to him. Pepper had tried to ban him from wearing them to school, but hastily gave up when Peter pulled the spiderman danger card.

“Alright, class dismissed. Please remember to do this homework pages 11-18 on this unit’s homework handout.”

Peter, forgetting his teacher's previous request, was very glad to be on his way home. He was one foot out of the door when the teacher called his name. Now, his day had gone pretty well up to that point. Bucky made pancakes for breakfast, which were delicious. There was wayyy less traffic on the way to school. He’d aced an essay and a couple of quizzes, and then he even participated in PE effectively. But alas, all good things had to come to an end.

“Mr. Parker? The discussion.”

“Right,” Peter thought, joining the teacher at his desk.

“Peter, you are truly a great kid. I know you’ve been through a lot recently and in your life, but it is no excuse to make up an internship. We both know that it is not real. Now, acknowledging that you have a bright future, the administration and I have come forward with an offer. If you agree to write an apology, expressing that you understand what you did was wrong and immoral, you will both be allowed to come on the trip and no punishment will be given to you. If you choose to not take this opportunity, you will be banned from the trip and will be chastised.

Peter just stood there, not really comprehending. Apparently Flash’s little rumors were a lot bigger than he anticipated.

“I-i-I’m not lying,” was all he could manage. He had filed all the right paperwork and proved his internship.

“I’m sorry to hear that you will not come forward with the truth. You have up until the day before the trip to hand in the letter if you change your mind. Goodbye Peter.”

Peter just let his legs take him out of the classroom, then out of the school, and then to the road, a couple blocks away, where his dad picks him up from.

“Hello mini-me.”

“Hey,” Peter said, jumping into the passenger seat.

“‘Hi Dad, thanks so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to pick me up each and every day. Sick new car by the way! I’d love to drive it sometime!”

Peter just rolled his eyes with a smile, “Car looks great dad. McLarren’s are superior yet.”

“Ungrateful, so so ungrateful. What’s got you in a mood then?”

“Nothin,” Peter said, pulling out his phone.

“Oh come on, tell me. Tell me or I’ll call Ted.”

“Ned, Dad. We’ve been friends for like three years.”

“Not the point.”

“Just something at school.”

“Wow how very descriptive. You know I’m trying to do the whole feelings thing here, and you should appreciate that coming from my emotionally stunted self.”

“You’re so dramatic. Basically we’re having a field trip to your tower, and I’m not allowed to go because the teacher doesn’t think I really have an “internship.” Which, to be fair I don’t but that’s on you and not me.”

“Nah na na. I offered you an internship, and you said I’d be bored.”

“It would be. Doing a project for your company under strict supervision of some person would be sucky. I mean I can do anything I want from the lab you built me.”

“I know, but remember technically you are my intern. Remember we did that whole personal intern bullshit for the school.”

“Oh right. Is that why you keep harassing me about submitting all my completed projects.”

“No, that’s all your mother. Something about not wanting a lawsuit over a fake internship.”

“Make sense. She tends to be a lot smarter than you.”

“Ah, I feel so attacked. The abuse I suffer.”

“You’re terrible.”

“I am internally crying, kid. Sobbing.”

“Shut up,” we laughed.

“Who’s home?”

“You saw Buck and Sam this morning. Nat and Steve came back from their mission this afternoon. Thor and Loki are back for dinner tonight.. Strange might be coming round, not sure though. Cliff and the family aren’t back for at least a couple weeks. Oh and Bruce is wholed up in his lab as usual.”

“Shit. Everyone staying till the end of the week.”

“Yeah, oh the field trip. You’re screwed. You should have not told me.”

“Ughhhhh!!!”

“I love your life Petey.”

Peter walked into the kitchen and saw Steve reading a newspaper.

“Uncle Steve! Your back!” he smiled, dropping his bag off near the sofa. Steve got up to give the smaller boy a hug.

“Yep. Mission completed.”

“Nice. Can you tell me about it?”

“Yeah, it was nothing too interesting. We just needed some more intel into a terrorist organization stationed in the US. Most of the mission was recon. The next steps are being taken in a couple weeks.”

“Good to know there’s an active terrorist organization out there,” Peter said lightly.

Steve just smiled, not quite understanding the modern humor.

“Where is everyone else?” he said, realizing the living room was not in it’s normal chaotic state that he’d come to love. The chaos was his favorite reminder that he had so many people. He liked having lots of people, even after all this time.

“Nat and Buck are training, they invited you to join if you want. Bruce is in his lab, and dont worry he slept and ate last night. Not sure about the rest.”

“Right, thanks. I think I’m going to go train.”

Before he knew it, it was Friday morning, and his school was coming to his home. He was going to try very hard to ignore them. To do so, he asked his mum to let him sit in on some meetings. He had an easy in to the R&D and mechanical side of the company via the other interns. He was actually planning on hanging out with some of the “other” interns later that day. They were always happy to let Pete in on their projects and let him give them a hand. But he was always interested in getting more detail about the business side of the company, and he liked to get a window into it. Pepper was always happy to show her son the ropes. I mean he was heir to the company after all, even if he didn’t know yet.

He asked his mum to only schedule meetings after 12 as he requested a sleep in. Pepper was always happy when Peter slept as he was a little too much like his father. So, he woke bright and early at 11:00 o’clock.

After a scroll through his phone and a quick shower, he was ready to pull on his far too expensive Brunellio’s custom suit. It was one of his favorites. His father had got it custom made when he was in Italy, and told him he simply could not resist getting one for the kid. Pepper just smiled.

He had a large breakfast (enhanced metabolism) and headed towards the 34th floor where his first meeting was located. He’d been shadowing his mum for almost a year now whenever it was convenient, so he had the rointine down. He was almost sure he could take over a few of her meetings.

“Hi honey,” Pepper said, giving the boy a quick kiss on the cheek on the way to her own chair beside him. Peter blushed before resuming his professional posture and facial expression.

“Good morning everyone, as you can see Peter will be joining us today. I want to talk about some of the services we provide for our employees and their feedback. I’m aware we have a large portion to talk about so Kendra please take it away on that front.”

The first meeting went smoothly as planned. It was a discussion on the progress of the internal services, aka the IT department. Peter hadn’t learned much about their IT department, so it was good to listen in to. Pre these meetings, he, of course, does research into the background stuff, so he’s not completely lost. Pepper’s assistant usually provides him with a packet of info about the Stark Industries side of things. He is also given a list of key words and concepts he might want to make sure he understands. The research is fun for him, it makes him feel all professional.

Usually he spoke during the meetings, asking a couple questions and suggesting some ideas, but for this one he just learned and took in. The next meeting, however, was very much so his field. He’d spoken a lot with advertising, becoming very interested in the data analysis behind it. He even took a stats class so he could keep up. In that one he asked questions Pepper was on the verge of asking twice. He also contributed to the analysis of data once. Pepper usually liked him to participate as it was good for him, but he always felt bad suggesting stuff to the senior adults. He usually spoke to his mum or dad about projects for the company, preferring that.

They hung back in the room of the second meeting.

“Good job in this one Pete. Took two questions right off my tongue.”

“Thanks ma,” he said, always appreciating some approval.

“That’s all I’ve got for you today, kid. Rest of the stuff is, ya know.”

“Course. Thanks for these two. It was good to learn about internal affairs a bit more. Have a gap of knowledge there.”

“Yeah. Was that the first time meeting our CIT?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, next time we have a broader IA meeting, I’ll pull you outta school,” Pepper suggested.

“Really? That’d be epic.”

“Course, hun. Jarvis, sort that out please.”

“Of course Mrs. Potts.”

“Thanks J,” Peter yelled.

“Anytime mini-boss. No need to disturb the entire floor.”

“Are AI supposed to be so snarky?”

“Dad programmed it, what else would it be?”

“Valid point.”

“Right, got to run. See you later.”

“Bye, love you mum!”

“Love you too, Pete.”

“Jarvis, could you send me the tour plan for the visiting tour today?”

“Absolutely, sir. They’re on your phone now.”

“Thanks J.”

Looking at the plans Peter smiled. He had successfully avoided them the entire day. It said they were supposed to head back to school at 2:30, and it was about to be three. Smile on his face, he trotted down to the lobby to grab a coffee before going to meet Loki at the arcade. Don’t judge them, it was their thing. Taking the private lift down, and then walking straight to the coffee stand and ordering.

“Mr. Parker!” he heard the angry voice of his teacher, “How dare you show up here aft-”

Shit. shit. Shit.

“Edith, call dad, and tell him it’s urgent in the lobby.”

“Of course Peter.”

“Peter, are you listening to me! You are going to face extreme consequences for this.”

“Your coffee,” the man said, not realizing it was Peter, level ten personal of the tower, that was being yelled at.

“Thanks.”

“How dare you get coffee! In this building! Security!”

Tony arrived spotting his son instantly.

“Kid this best be impor- I see.”

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said weakly.

“Mr. Harrington is it? Please stop harassing my intern.”

“H-he, he is y-your intern?”

“Yes. My favorite. Please exit the building and never question him again. You will be hearing from me.”

Let’s just say, Monday was an interesting day. At least Flash backed off, he was definitely an intern at SI, and no one embarrassed him on the trip.

[inscribed-in-asteroids]

AN: Took a while but here’s chapter six! Make sure to reblog and like, or leave comments and kudos on AO3, which is still the best place to read it.

Title: The Ripple Effect

Characters: Hordak and Entrapta, feat. Glimmer, Bow, Aurora and Eon (OCs)

Rating: M (for smut)

                                            Repairing Harm Done

Hordak walks through the center of their new home away from home. Entrapta and he share their enjoyment of space, and going on adventures with her has been some of the greatest years of his life; however, Beast Island has been transformed into a multicultural landscape, where anyone could come here if they wanted, and stay here if they chose. While Odessa has been away with her friends, they opted to expand the lodgings here to accommodate growing numbers. Talon and he weren’t the only ones with children, and even without offspring, his siblings were finding life partners, and to add on top of that, visitors from nearby planets come to Etheria as well and, sometimes, like it so much they wish to remain.

Upon this realization, they made an organization to discuss blueprints, schedules and funding for such a project. The funding was no issue: Glimmer and Bow were more than happy to aid them, and have visited the island several times now to see what else was needed. It wasn’t necessarily money they needed, either, as everything on Beast Island was based on a trade system and very loosely; they have utilized the technology on the island well, and created elaborate new machines for daily living. Glimmer and Bow, simply put, love being involved. They offer their expertise, Bow on his own inventions and Glimmer with her magic, but they were enthusiastic to be present at all.

He notes his brothers above him in the trees, connecting large trunks with man-made bridges, where a community of apartments will be launched high above them. The groves are to be interconnected this way, allowing for more freedom of development and making use of every inch of the island, eventually establishing long pathways that will join all shores of the island. This will be the new dwelling place for many of the citizens on Beast Island, while the area he’s moving through will serve as the marketplace, with recreational centers, hospitals, schools and restaurants lined throughout the ground floor. They have been constructing it for a while, but high demand has allowed for a speedier process to take place. Underground it will be primarily used for laboratories, as he and Odessa have the largest ones. It’s also their excavation site for First Ones tech, which they still continue to find more than twenty years later, the deeper into the earth they go; it’ll also serve as their mausoleum, for when those days come.

Animals chirp in the branches, shadows moving along his frame. Looking up, he meets the eyes of his brothers hammering boards into place, and they wave down at him. Being in a good mood, he waves back—

A sharp pang goes up his shoulder. Wincing in surprise, Hordak holds his hand up for a moment. Confused, he shakes off the sensation and continues toward the direction of his residence. Opening the door, Hordak steps inside.

“Entrapta? I’ve returned,” Hordak announces.

No answer.

She must be out. Maybe he’ll go check up on Emily and Imp. The latter has been growing, which came as a surprise to everyone. No one believed Imp could actually get bigger. It’s about the time Imp needs to have tests run to check if he’s still healthy as his body develops, Hordak muses, beginning to climb up the steps—

His legs suddenly lock, and they buckle, causing him to sprawl on the floor. His palms and knees slam into the hard stone, sending waves of pain up his frame. Another shortly follows, stabbing through his body. And it’s never one type of stab—it’s sharp, a knife slashing through; or painfully dull, akin to being jabbed with a worn, flat spear. It may not cut, but it’s relentless. And he can’t ever tell which is worse.

Trying to stand, he finds himself unable to. He pushes up with his hands, and the pain stings up his nerves, all the way to his neck.

Hordak lets out a breath of shock, of anger, of fear.

No.

No no no no no no no—

He looks down at his hands, and the color recedes—the blue drains, melting from elbow down, streaks forming along his wrist, and he can feel them weaken at the shoulder.

Hordak yells out loud, hunched over from the agony, watching as his forearms split in two without warning right down the middle until they’re merely the width of bone within the muscles thinning blood flow slowing unable to move or feel or sense or know why—

Hordak lets out a cry of shock, jolting himself up. Breathing hard, he turns to his right. Moonlight cuts through the dark of his bedroom, the blinds never being tightly sealed enough for his liking. But for once, he’s relieved to see it.

His head falls into his hands, and he breathes in. Breathes out. He withdraws to look at them. His forearms show no signs of disease, stark in the dim room. His shoulders move as they should, and he rotates them to be sure. He claws the air with his fingers, two quick movements. Then he lets them go toward his palm, slowly, pinky first as the rest follow, moving in synchronicity. He repeats this motion four more times, and none of them hurt.

Entrapta shifts beside him, her arm reaching out for his body. Automatic. When she finds only the pillow, Entrapta opens her eyes. She props herself up on an elbow, reaching out to touch her husband.

“Hordak? Are you okay?”

Blinking, Hordak turns to look at her. Her hair is loose about her body, draping across her shoulders in long strands. She doesn’t wear clothes to bed, finding it more comfortable. She followed his example on that one. After decades of being in pain, he didn’t want to be constricted as he slept. It reminded him too much of how often he had to be bound in place by something or another to keep from falling apart. His body was attached by sinew and muscle, like anyone else, but it never felt like that. It always felt like one small gesture would render him incapacitated, and his shoulders would fall from their sockets.

Entrapta sits up, touching the small of his back, “Did you have a bad dream?”

Hordak sighs, “I… did.”

Entrapta brushes the side of his face, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Hordak reaches up to take her hand in his, “It… It was the usual dream.”

Sidling next to him, Entrapta lays her head on his shoulder, “I know. It’s scary.”

He lets out a breath, unable to disagree. Adora had fixed him, permanently, in that other lifetime. Horde Prime wouldn’t allow something defective in his midst, so his body had been healed at the expense of his mind’s free will. But when Adora expelled Prime out, he was released from the confines of both mental and physical anguish.

He knows this.

His body has not known that pain in many, many years.

But there are days when he’s walking, sitting, breathing, and his thoughts turn to anxiety. Anxiety about the day, the moment, when his body will fail him again. He exercises every day, relishing in the activity he had been denied. The strength and power and agility that he long forgot about and wishes to keep. He makes sure to have that routine set out for himself, to have those thoughts at bay, to stop worrying him. He recalls how nervous he’d been when Odessa had been born—to have his daughter in his arms, and he would panic about the pain coming back and he can’t grab her in time before she collapses onto the floor and she dies. In a second, just like that.

Pulling his knees up, Hordak stretches his arms out onto them, giving a heavy sigh.

Entrapta rotates a bit, brushing his hair out.

“Entrapta?”

“Yes?”

“Can you check?”

Without further question, Entrapta moves forward, inspecting his back first. She notes the perfect coloration of his body, from neck to fingertip. Drawing aside the covers, she makes similar mental notes from his hips down to his feet. She looks up at him, smiling, “You’ve never looked better!”

Hordak sighs, relieved.

Entrapta lays her cheek on his forearm, “And I do mean that.”

He meets her eyes, and she wiggles her eyebrows.

Hordak laughs, allowing the anxiety to leave him, “You’re a pervert.”

Entrapta’s grin widens, “Can you blame me?”

Hordak leans forward to kiss her forehead. And she tilts her head back so their mouths can touch. Her hand caresses the side of his cheek, and he relaxes.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he whispers, after a good while.

“Don’t worry about it,” Entrapta says. She pushes him onto his back, brushing her thumb along his mouth. “You’re not alone, you know.”

Hordak nods, staring up at the ceiling. Entrapta lays next to him, and she taps her chest.

Without a word, he turns, burying his face into her collarbone. Warm and inviting.

Her hands play with his hair, humming quietly. Stroking her fingertips down his neck, careful of the port located there. Entrapta doesn’t stop until he’s taking measured breaths, long and deep; once he does, only then does she fall back asleep.

                                                              -

Hordak steps out into the bright outdoors. Everything is in place. From the new construction in the trees, to the bustling shoppers around him, and, below, he knows Imp and Emily are taking ownership of Odessa’s lab while she’s away, as they tend to when she’s absent. Her friends are missed as well, and he will admit to himself, it’s good for her to have them.

Tristan’s general apathy tends to keep him anchored, but it lifts away as soon as he knows she’s back home, becoming more involved and energetic. Hydrangea’s eagerness to keep peace always stays in place, but she defers to Odessa’s knowledge and skill more often than with anyone else. Hordak knows that there could be no better allies to his daughter than those two.

They’ve been her friends since childhood, and they gravitated toward one another in a manner he found interesting. Despite being born a clone, he knows who he is, and he tends to keep to himself, save for Entrapta’s presence. His brothers tend to be more gregarious, which baffled him at first on how willing they were to interact with Etherians, and he surmised that, even among replicas, he stands out as incredibly reclusive. There are a few who took to his more stern and introverted nature, of course, he isn’t unique to averting social events, but he continues to have the shortest temper, if pushed enough, and is withdrawn. Talon is one of those individuals to match it, as he tends to be around his wife alone, but he doesn’t mind the spotlight, and that’s their difference.

Hordak’s gotten better at being around others, but he finds it exhausting after a while. Entrapta says that’s okay, and she wouldn’t change that about him and has outright stated to prefer it. Large groups are only ‘fun’ to watch, not be part of.

Odessa, meanwhile, enjoyed company, and Tristan was the first person she brought home. Hydrangea and Odessa liked each other very much, which delighted Entrapta and Scorpia; however, Tristan’s addition caught them by surprise. Mermista wasn’t the warmest woman when it came to who associated with her son. Hordak knows that his actions from the past were to blame, but she hasn’t done anything to damage his child’s relationship with her companion, so he says nothing.

Hydrangea’s mother, Perfuma, is no different, though she tends to have a lenient grip. Which he knows is due to her bohemian attitude, rather than an acceptance of Odessa. She wouldn’t stifle her child, as she has asserted that children should be allowed to do as they please and grow up how they will. It’s not a sentiment he disagrees with—he gave Odessa all the freedom she wanted. Entrapta was the one to spoil her, and he took on the disciplinarian role, for when it needed to be done, but overall, he and his wife encouraged Odessa’s desire to do what she wanted. Sometimes, her strong personality could be overpowering for others, but she’s not a bad person.

Despite what others may think.

“How are you doing, hon?” Entrapta asks, getting up to his level.

“I’m doing fine,” he responds. “Did you need something from me?”

“No,” Entrapta smiles. “You always ask that.”

“Ask what?”

“If people need something from you.”

He pauses in his tracks, “Do I?”

“You usually ask that when I’m looking at you, or wondering how you are,” Entrapta states. “And when I say people, I mean just me. You don’t do it with others.”

Hordak looks at the ground, silent.

“That’s not a problem, Hordak! It’s an observation,” Entrapta assures him.

He doesn’t question it further, for now.

“Oh, hi, guys!” Entrapta says.

Hordak faces behind him, finding Glimmer and Bow waving at him. For a flash of a second, he’s stricken with concern, but remembers that they’re supposed to be here today. That must be why they were in his dream, and it has nothing to do with premonitions of impending doom.

“Hey! Hope we’re not late,” Bow says.

“You’re right on time!” Entrapta replies.

Glimmer smiles, “Good! I hope you don’t mind—we brought Aurora today.”

Hordak looks past them, their daughter standing near the portal. Utterly disinterested. Without thinking, he says to Glimmer, “Was it wise to bring her?”

She looks at him, surprised, before waving her hand and laughing, “Oh, Hordak, she’s fine! She’s a big girl. Aurora, come here please!”

Aurora’s expression belies her unwillingness to be present, a polite smile on her face.

He doesn’t want to be rude— Well, that’s not true, he wants to be rude. It just isn’t prudent. Aurora isn’t a person who tends to be engrossed in what’s going outside of her social circle.

Glimmer looks up at Hordak, “I brought her because as future queen, she needs to participate in what’s happening throughout Etheria. You and I are working on this together, so I figured she would benefit from learning how things work with other kingdoms outside of a council meeting!”

Hordak nods in understanding. Makes sense.

Entrapta looks at Aurora, “Hello!”

“Thank you for welcoming me,” Aurora curtsies.

“What’s first on the agenda?” Bow asks.

Entrapta laughs, “We’ll go up into the trees first! We’ve designed a mode of transportation that takes us all to the top!”

Hordak silently walks behind the group. Entrapta leads them to a lift that operates when people enter into the rectangular container, made of nearby materials, predominantly the wood and bark of trees, as they’re the sturdiest thing at the moment. It’s in its rudimentary stage, Entrapta explains, and hopefully it will be changed into solid metal soon, since they didn’t want to waste resources at once. They had to see if it worked first, and they needed to design a glass case to hold it. All of them are elevated toward the top, allowing them a view of everything below.

Glimmer looks over the side of the box, “Wow, where did you come up with the idea?”

“Remember Horde Prime’s ship? He had this sort of thing aboard. We figured it would help get people around easier,” Entrapta says.

“So, you took the contraption of someone deplorable and used it for yourself?” Aurora asks.

“Yep!” Entrapta says.

Glimmer stares at her child, and Bow’s brows rise an inch.

Hordak’s arms remain folded, glaring at the back of Aurora’s head. Not liking her tone.

She doesn’t approve of it. And while he may not like owing Prime anything, it isn’t conducive to advancement as a group to ignore advantages simply because it came from a heinous individual. Good people have bad ideas, and bad people have good ideas, it depends on how it’s used.

“I don’t see how this is sensible of your time,” Aurora says.

Entrapta laughs, “Not everyone can teleport like you and your mom! We have people who can’t jump and climb the way we can.”

Aurora gives a delicate sniff, unimpressed with the explanation.

Glimmer claps her hands together, “Well, I think it’s a phenomenal idea. Prime was a monster, but his ship was incredible.”

“Mama—” Aurora begins.

Bow points at the distant grove, “Oh, look, pookas! Aurora, these were the animals that I met with Adora while looking for Entrapta.”

“The very things that would’ve eaten you all, and my grandpa, alive. You don’t say,” Aurora dryly answers.

“They’re friendly now!” Entrapta corrects, hair morphing into a hand with a forefinger pointed up.

Aurora grimaces when a pooka chitters at her, stepping away.

Hordak comes forward, unable to deal with it any longer, “Perhaps, it would be better for Aurora if she went and explored on her own. There is a plethora of activity in the market, and the main thing we would all be discussing is infrastructure.”

Bow turns to him, “Oh, I don’t think it’s necessary for her to leave.”

Glimmer nods, his suggestion more than welcome, “Actually, he might be right. Sweetie, why don’t you go down and check things out?”

“Thank you, I will,” Aurora says, giving another polite smile. With that, she teleports to the ground.

Entrapta yells over the side, “Byyyeeee!”

Bow and Glimmer share a long glance at one another. Aurora is a pleasant young woman, and now at eighteen, she should be engaging with more outside of Bright Moon. Neither Glimmer or Bow could imagine not wanting to go out of their comfort zone, whether it’s irritating or boring. But Aurora had never been quite as easy with ventures toward the unfamiliar.

Aurora is a creature of habit and routine, so she tends to stick with people that she knows, which is why they gave Marlena and Clawdeen the day off, both to allow Aurora to expand her horizons on her own, while giving their goddaughters well-deserved rest. Adora and Catra serve, too, as Aurora’s respective godparents, for they had all promised to be the guardians of each other’s children. And it’s why they decided, when Aurora asked if she could visit her extended family on the outskirts of the Whispering Woods, they pushed her to join them on this trip to Beast Island.

Aurora’s behavior since arrival was troubling Glimmer; she’s sure it wasn’t obvious, but her daughter radiated displeasure. Aurora is normally so genteel, with impeccable manners, which were inherited from Angella, and nurtured more by Bow and his relatives. Glimmer, even as she gets older, could never get rid of her fire to engage with every little aspect of life as much as she could. There was so much to do and see and experience, and she likes to believe that Aurora’s the same, even with her personality being softer than her own: mellow, caring, even shy. She knows her daughter is a good person.

Everyone always says so.

Bow and Entrapta have gone ahead, chatting animatedly about inventions and the latest in revolutionary designs. Addressing Hordak, Glimmer murmurs, “I’m sorry about Aurora.”

Hordak looks at her, “I don’t see the need for an apology. She doesn’t have to hide her disdain.”

Glimmer pokes him lightly in the arm, teasing, “Why? Because you’re the same?”

“Exactly,” Hordak replies, giving a light chuckle.

Sighing, she holds up her face with her hand, “Still, I don’t know why she’s upset today. I know kids don’t like to be with their parents after a certain age, and want to be with their friends—I was definitely that way—but I thought maybe she would have fun, you know? Engaging with the people, the mix of culture. Beast Island is so grand now!”

“I’m glad to hear you approve of what we’ve accomplished thus far,” Hordak says.

“That lift contraption is useful, but nothing will ever overshadow the day we got indoor plumbing in the palace.”

Hordak smiles, letting himself relax in the easy conversation.

                                                              -

Aurora walks through the throng of individuals bustling around. She didn’t expect so… many clones. She knows this is one preferred habitation, along with the kingdom of Dryl, and they are sporadic in other parts of Etheria. But to have so many of them present is a sight to behold.

She doesn’t approach any of the shops, but watches closely. Etherians, too, are wandering from stall to stall, store to store, and she ponders why any of these citizens would want to leave their kingdoms. Do their leaders not provide enough for them that they feel the need to come to a place still in development? She has heard of Beast Island’s many, many changes from childhood to adulthood, but she doesn’t see the appeal of coming to a location that isn’t as established as the rest of Etheria. New Chelicerata is an exception, since restoring a ruined kingdom isn’t a simple task, and that was in no part thanks to the Horde destroying the land and water.

To add on top of that, Aurora notes the strange carts being driven around the area. Compact metal transportation vehicles that are hovering above the ground, or whizzing through the canopy. An invention from Entrapta, no doubt. She tends to be the mind behind the majority of the designs. Those cannot possibly be safe.

Aurora treads lightly along the ground, a little dash of levitation magic that she’s been practicing. A gaggle of children, both Etherian and mixed, run past her, and she sidesteps out of the way. None of them are paying attention to where they’re running, almost doing the same to a couple of people. She quietly shames their parents for not teaching them respect better.

“Hey! You all have to slow down!”

She recognizes the voice, stopping in her tracks.

“Aww, but we wanna run!” chime youthful voices of reckless abandon.

Her eyes shift back and forth from either side, not risking looking behind herself, wondering if she can slip into a nearby building.

“You want to run? Go that way into the woods and return after a while. Whoever’s fastest wins and gets bragging rights.”

“What if one of us gets lost?”

For a moment, she wonders if she could master the invisibility spell this very second—

“Your parents didn’t tell you, but that’s the price of being fools running around without a care: you didn’t get to learn map reading. It’s a curse, so it’s inevitable you’ll die in the jungle.”

The children laugh, “What? No way!”

As the conversation turns to protest, Aurora darts behind a wall, letting out a breath. Crisis averted.

“You know, I heard that if you run like mad back to your homes, and don’t get lost, the curse is lifted! But you can only try when the moon’s half full.”

A gasp comes from one of the children, “Oh my gosh! It’s half full tonight!”

“I guess you kids better practice for this evening!”

Aurora peers around the corner, listening to the children fall for the outlandish lies, while unable to see anyone.

She’s startled when the next sound is that of quick steps coming her direction, darting past her—

Instinctively, she teleports, narrowly avoiding collision with a child. She closes her eyes and sighs.

Why can’t she go home?

“Aurora? What are you doing here?”

She tenses.

She didn’t plan where she’d wind up.

Slowly, Aurora tilts back her head, giving her signature smile, “Eon. I didn’t expect to see you.”

Peering down, Eon quirks a single brow, “You didn’t expect to see me where my family is? Do you not know how visitation works?”

Aurora withdraws, realizing with embarrassment how her head had been resting on his chest. He stands there, nonchalant, several stacks of flour levitating above his palm. He wears Mystacoran attire, deep, noble colors of purple with the usual white or gold accents replaced with his signature black.

Standing out as much as her, if she’ll admit anything. She attends any event wearing dresses, colored soft pink with whites trimming her sleeves and the hem of her skirt. She smoothes out her outfit, looking at the fabric, “I know how visitation works. Normally, you’re locked up in your room.” She side-eyes him. “Doing nothing to better yourself.”

Eon gives a cocky grin, “At least I don’t fake being busy to drown out the monotony enveloping my life.”

Decorum be damned, Aurora’s expression turns mocking, “I happen to like monotony. Schedules keep things together.”

“Another way of declaring you’re uptight,” Eon retorts, sauntering past her.

Aurora emits a light scoff, teleporting beside him, “I am not uptight! I appear that way to the lethargic. It wouldn’t hurt you to make an effort.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Eon replies, spinning on the ball of his foot and giving a small bow with his head. “I forgot that commoners like myself need your example to show us how we could improve ourselves.”

Aurora tosses back her hair, “That’s part of being a princess—leading by example.”

Eon rolls his eyes, continuing his path, “Of course. I wouldn’t want to contradict you.”

“But I would contradict you,” Aurora replies. “I don’t understand why you’re carrying the sacks like that.”

“Like what?”

“Magic isn’t something to do menial tasks with. Did your muscles atrophy from being bedridden?”

“I happen to enjoy using my magic for all my needs,” Eon says. “If it makes things easier, why not do it?”

Aurora shakes her head.

“So, what are you on the island for? Did your family finally admit you were found among the beetles, and that’s why you have those wings?”

“Are you insinuating I’m a pest?” she questions, annoyed, folding her arms.

“Beetles happen to serve a very good purpose,” Eon tells her. “I wouldn’t imply such malicious concepts about you.”

Aurora gives him a pointed glare, “If you must know, I happen to be tagging along with my parents. They wanted to check on how construction is going for your people.”

“Ah. That’s nice,” he says, sincere.

“For you, maybe.”

Eon resumes being distant, “Well, I thank you for showing you care. Your presence graces us.”

“I suppose this will do as I’m waiting for them to be done,” she replies, looking around with annoyance.

Eon stops in front of his destination, setting the cargo carefully on the ground. He waves at an uncle, who nods his thanks before continuing to help a customer.

“Why don’t you take it inside?” Aurora asks.

“They know where it is.”

“It’s nicer to put it inside,” Aurora insists.

Eon grunts in annoyance. Levitating them back up, he goes around the corner. He halts, turning to her, hiking a thumb in his new direction, “Are you coming?”

Blinking, Aurora glances behind him. “This job doesn’t require two people.”

Eon leaves the sacks floating, pivoting around, “If you’re going to make demands of me, the least you can do is watch me do it.”

“But—”

He gestures to the building, “Would you rather loiter outside this public establishment?”

Aurora concedes, following him to the back door. She supposes it’s better than being out in the open.

                                                             -

Hordak lets his mind wander as his companions take rein of the conversation.

The nightmare threw him off more than he’d care to admit. He has had this sort of dream before, however, he was shaken to his core with this one. It was the most vivid he had ever experienced, and an aspect of slumber he’d care to not go through again.

Bow and Glimmer head to a group of his brothers who are in the midst of adding beams together.

He took it upon himself to take a break in a home that was under development. It needs a little more work left, but it’s otherwise complete and ready for furnishing. No one will bother him here.

Entrapta looks into the house, noticing his posture. He’s staring out a window that overlooks the trees, the drop going straight down, hands behind his back. His thinking position. She swings over to where he stands, closing the door behind her, “Are you still holding up?”

Hordak’s brow twitches. He doesn’t tell her that it’s a poor choice of words, because he knows he’s a little more sensitive to this matter than usual.

But Entrapta touches his shoulder, “Oh, I’m sorry! I meant to ask if you’re fine.”

“That is not something you need to concern yourself with. They’re mere words.”

“Words that are insensitive,” Entrapta replies. He doesn’t give a reply. She sits on her hair, gazing right at him. Unmoving.

Hordak’s eyes flick over to her for a second. He continues to stare straight ahead. “Entrapta, you needn’t apologize or feel responsible.”

“I believe you when you say that,” Entrapta says, not removing her eyes from his features. Suddenly, she gives a bashful smile, “I just care about you.”

Heart twinging, Hordak stiffens. He knows that her concern is sincere, and he appreciates it. He raises a hand to her cheek, brushing it, “I know.”

Entrapta flushes, his gaze intense. She can’t help but look down then, soft giggles leaving her lips. His finger traces the shell of her ear, and a shudder snakes along her spine. Body growing warm from the attention. He always knew how to make her feel special. After Prime’s defeat, Hordak had layers of emotion to sift through. He had been angry for many years, and she knows there’s parts of that residual rage underneath the calm. But one aspect of his nature that blossomed was a sensitivity that left her speechless. Hordak doesn’t believe it, but he can be very romantic by simply being honest with her.

“Hordak,” Entrapta whispers, touching his hand.

He tilts his head, “Yes?”

“You know I love you,” she says.

“Yes, I do,” Hordak replies, surprised. “And I love you too.”

Entrapta gives a breathy laugh, turning her face into his palm, hiding. She peers up at him with one eye, “Really?”

“More than you could comprehend,” Hordak tells the truth.

“Aww!” she coos, pressing his hand into her cheek, slightly muffled as she buries her face into his palm again.

A light blush tints his face, and he gives a soft laugh, “Entrapta, what’s this about? Are you upset that you cannot help me with my problem?”

“A little,” Entrapta holds his hand in hers, kissing the inside of his wrist. “I don’t know what to do sometimes, and I don’t know if me being around helps at all.”

“You’re a great help,” he assures her, thumb stroking her cheekbone. “Don’t doubt your affect on me.”

Entrapta grins, “I know some of the ways I affect you, silly!”

Hordak steps closer, smile widening along his lips, teeth flashing. His voice lowers, “Do you?”

“I like to think so,” Entrapta teases, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, fingers moving into his hair.

Her lips touch his, and he pulls her close. Her body curves against his, and even after decades of being near her, he’s always amazed at how she feels. Hand angled behind her head, his other one shifts down her back, sliding down her thigh.

Entrapta moans into his mouth, and she realizes that she’s been wanting to do this all day. His breathing grows ragged, moans interspersed with her name, sounds that she never gets tired of, because he only makes them with her.

Hordak pushes her against the wall, and he feels her hair slacken through her frame. Her legs wrap around his waist, allowing herself to be held up by his hands. Entrapta gives a soft groan, pulling him close. Her mouth caresses his neck, causing his body to shiver. Her hands glide down his back, grazing over exposed skin.

His hand snakes up her frame, and angles between her legs. Against the fabric, he begins to rub her clit, and Entrapta gasps in welcome surprise. Grinding against his fingers, she gives a small bite to his ear lobe, hot breath tickling his skin.

Hordak presses harder with his fingers, and he knows she’s growing damp. He captures her mouth with his, swallowing a moan she emits, flushed and excited. She grins against his chin, giving a small chuckle.

Encouraged, Hordak stops petting her. He looks at her, “Entrapta, remove your clothes.”

“Ooooh!” Entrapta does as he says, discarding everything but her shirt.

With ease, he lifts her back up, pushing her securely upon the wall and placing her legs over his shoulders. He has no hesitation as he leans in, breathing in, and glides his tongue up slick folds, rubbing over the clit with the end of his tongue.

Entrapta gasps, closing her eyes in pleasure. His tongue moves slowly, taking his time. It moves through the sides, around, teasing the clit, but never going in. Entrapta’s hands caress his hair, brushing through dark blue locks. His moans vibrate into her skin, mouth burning hot on burning flesh.

Hordak’s tongue suddenly darts in, and Entrapta’s back arches, mouth parting open. Groaning deep in her throat, Entrapta’s fingers grip his hair harder. Hordak pushes her legs further aside, nails digging into tender skin. He pulls away, giving her a brief glance, as his teeth graze along the delicate skin of her inner thigh.

“Hordak…” Entrapta whispers.

“Hmm?” he hums, mouth covering her clit, sucking hard.

Her moan escapes in a staccato, trembling. Biting her lower lip, Entrapta forgets what she’s supposed to ask. Lost in the sensation of his mouth on her clit, tongue dragging along swollen lips. His fingers squeeze the sensitive flesh of her backside, his ears twitching when she says his name. Soon, she’s soaked, unable to think or speak, overcome by physical touch. His arms, once the most obvious area of his defect, don’t waver from the weight, keeping her steady without qualm.

She would love him no matter his appearance, but she’s happy that he has the body he lost before. It brought him so much pain and agony, leaving him enraged and bitter. Entrapta would watch him suffer every day in the Fright Zone, even with her modifications. He felt inadequate, pathetic and alone. She would never think of him this way—he was the most brilliant mind and kindest heart she’d ever met, valuing her for who she was. Loving her despite her own imperfections. She never gave a thought to her physical appearance. What she always worried about was how her mind, her personality, her feelings would be perceived.

He accepted all of it.

And she wants to help him overcome whatever fears remain in him. That the imperfections of his body wouldn’t ever be the only thing of him she’d accept—it would be the doubts, the worries, the anger. He was her friend and husband. He, and he alone, would always be enough.

The heat in her stomach spreads throughout her body. Growing feverish, sweat shining on her skin, her toes curl into his back. Hordak’s ministrations are relentless, breaths muffled as his tongue moves back in, deeper than before, making circular motions within her body.

Shaking with incredible force, it bowls Entrapta forward, clamping her hand over her mouth. Eyes shut closed, brows knitting together, she trembles from the orgasm rocking through her every nerve and muscle. Slowly, her eyelids open, finding him staring up at her.

“Wow…”

Hordak smiles, pleased at such a reaction.

As he wipes up his chin, Entrapta brushes aside his hair, tugging strands over his temple. “Oh... I remembered what I was going to ask…”

“Yes?”

“I was going… to ask… if you think anyone will notice us gone…”

“Perhaps. But I don’t believe there’s a problem, so long as we begin going back now.”

Entrapta gives a gentle pat to his shoulders, and he sets her down. Beginning to dress, she grins, “I think this house is ruined.”

“Nonsense,” Hordak returns, waving a hand. “We need only open a window.”

Cackling wildly, Entrapta leaps up into his arms, nuzzling his neck, “You’re so bad!”

Hordak kisses her cheek, “I try.”

“I can be bad too,” Entrapta says, leering down at his groin.

“I don’t think we have the time,” Hordak replies, arm wrapping around her waist. “As favorable as that outcome would be.”

“Awww… You don’t want to make an attempt?”

“I believe, unfortunately, we have been gone long enough to arouse suspicion.”

“That’s an understatement,” Entrapta replies, wiggling her eyebrows, hand stroking over his clothes. “We definitely can’t hide that.”

A boyish grin and light blush changes his normally stoic demeanor. The expression staggers her mind to a halt, mystifying her on the rare moments it occurs. He’s so pretty...

“Entrapta?” he asks, smile still in place.

Finally recalling what needs to be done, Entrapta moves toward the door, grinning, “I’ll go on ahead, okay? You take your time!”

He nods, and she blows him a kiss that he, on reflex, pretends to catch.

Squealing at his playful attitude, Entrapta bounces out the door.

Hordak hears her voice grow distant, and he notes the faint replies from their friends. Hordak looks back out the window, catching his reflection in the glass. He looks down at his arm, touching it where he can remember missing bone and sinew. He takes in a breath, feeling the air move through his nose, into his chest. The power in his body undeniable.

It’s an odd feeling. Being afraid of nothing.

                                                             -

Aurora follows Eon throughout the market. He, apparently, was needed today. His magic lent significant help to his people, restoring broken objects, fixing machinery, and taking deliveries to several places. She won’t admit it, but it was a welcome relief from simply milling about by herself. Granted, these are tasks servants would be doing, but it made her feel normal, like she was accomplishing objectives at Bright Moon.

Eon looks down at her, “Don’t you have other places to be?”

“If I did, I would’ve left,” Aurora replies.

“Are you bored?”

“No, not at all,” she shakes her head. A little surprised she means it, too.

Eon takes her word for it. He hadn’t expected her to trail after him the entire time, and he would catch her standing by, occasionally offering unwanted critique, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. Early on, he certainly did. But the day has been long and he’s hoping to rest soon. She always does what she wants.

“Are you almost done?” Aurora asks.

“Yes,” he replies. “This is my last spot.”

Aurora looks at the sparse appearance, not even a sign put outside. Eon opens the door, singing its soft chime, and Aurora steps in after him. She’s struck to find rows of jewelry arranged along the four walls, painted navy blue, with cases planted into the middle of the floor. Though empty, they are meant for future displays.

Eon heads over to the case closest to the back door, tapping a bell resting on top.

Aurora joins him, “Is anyone present?”

“Should be,” Eon replies, turning around to face the front. He puts his hands in his pockets. “It’s not an issue if no one is—I can come back later.”

Aurora peers at the glass case, looking at dazzling necklaces, bracelets and rings aligned on vermilion velvet stands. She didn’t expect a store of this magnitude on Beast Island. The quality of the items are beautiful, with delicate designs.

Eon watches her from the corner of his eye. Her expression is intrigued, perusing the case with calm interest. He closes his eyes, waiting for the merchant to arrive. He listens to the faint tread of Aurora’s feet on the ground, the soft tap of her fingers on the surface of glass. He lets his mind wander in peace, glad to have a moment to himself.

Aurora eventually returns to his side, “Are you sure they’re here?”

“Yes,” he answers, not opening his eyes. “If you prefer, you can go find your parents.”

Aurora turns around, skirt slightly shifting about her feet. She stares up at Eon, debating whether to take him up on the suggestion or not. Her parents might be done, but if they’re not, she wouldn’t be able to leave again as smoothly as before. Staring at each side of the room, she says, “This is rude.”

“Uh-huh.”

“This wouldn’t happen in Bright Moon.”

Eon gives an exasperated sigh, “No, of course not. Nothing bad ever happens in Bright Moon.”

She ignores it or doesn’t hear. Aurora boasts, crossing her arms, “Right! Glad you see it my way.”

“Your Highness,” Eon scoffs, turning to face her. “If everyone could see things your way, we’d have a greater need for service animals.”

She blinks, “Why is that?”

“Everyone would be blind,” Eon answers.

Aurora says, tone clipped, “Oh, what would you know?”

“A lot more than you,” Eon replies, feeling vigor return.

“I doubt you possibly could!” Aurora’s head tilts at an arrogant angle. “The only thing you’ve proven today is that you make an excellent mule.”

Feigning injury, Eon clutches his chest, “Ah! You hurt me. But I could’ve sworn that you were fine with loyal, hard-working creatures. Unless that only matters when it’s useful to you.”

Aurora crosses her arms, huffing quietly.

Eon has known Aurora his entire life. Aurora has proven time and again that she has an elitism that tends to push her away from most people. Her parents are open-minded, cheerful individuals, and together they tend to liven any situation. Aurora can be charming, but she lacks sincerity. While not brash, her keeping an absurd distance from the folks around them during his errands proved that she was around him because he was the one thing she knew, rather than any intention toward actual civility.

Aurora inspects her shoulder, finding a loose thread. She points at it, and it dissolves in the air.

“I thought magic wasn’t a toy,” he says, taunting.

“This isn’t the same,” she snaps.

Before Eon can retort, the door opens behind them. The two turn around and find a woman standing there. Full-figured, with brown hair, hazel eyes and pale skin, the merchant is dressed in Bright Moon garb. Silver arm bands go up to mid-forearm, and she removes a light blue cape to hang on a coat rack.

“Eon, hello! I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. My meeting ran late.”

“No worries. I thought as much,” Eon replies.

The woman stares at Aurora for a moment, stunned, then smiles, “Your Highness! Welcome to my shop.”

Returning the warm greeting, Aurora nods at her, “Hello, I’m pleased to meet you. What’s your name?”

“Minette, Your Highness. If I may ask, what are you doing on Beast Island?”

“Royal duties,” Aurora gives a dainty laugh. “It’s been lovely!”

“I’m glad to hear that!” Minette says, walking over to a desk.

Eon bends down, giving Aurora a deadpan stare.

Aurora shoos him back, returning it with a glare.

“So!” Minette begins, causing the two to stand upright before she can notice. “Eon, I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“What is it?”

With an excited skip in her step, Minette returns to the chair behind the larger collection of jewelry, “I needed a model for some of my jewelry, and using you would be really helpful!”

“Really? That’s it?” he asks, a bit surprised. “I don’t need to patch a hole in your roof or magic up boxes?”

“Sorry! I understand if you’d prefer to do those things instead,” Minette jokes.

Eon takes his seat, a little relieved that this is the easiest job he’s had today. Aurora sits in a chair nearby, crossing her right ankle under her left, hands in her lap.

“Your Highness, you can scoot closer,” suggests Minette.

Eon gives Aurora a brief glance.

“No, thank you, I’m comfortable where I am,” Aurora says.

“Nonsense! You can try anything on too!”

Aurora is about to decline when Eon rises to his feet and stands behind his seat. He indicates to it with a quick motion of his head, and Aurora elects to accept it. He pushes the chair under her, before levitating the one she’d been in next to it.

Minette smiles, bringing out her first batch, “How is Nyxia?”

“She’s doing well,” he informs her. “She’s likely in a meeting herself.”

“Your mother isn’t usually doing business with other people, correct?”

Eon peruses the jewelry that she places out on the table. Picking up a silver-banded ring, a crimson gem laid in its intricate center, he says, “I suppose she isn’t. But she will occasionally meet up with someone. I think she had to discuss matters with the council on Mystacore.”

“No doubt causing a stir of some sort,” Aurora adds, slipping a white bracelet onto a delicate wrist.

Eon glances at her, “You would know how to do that, wouldn’t you?”

Aurora gives a demure grin, “Whatever do you mean?”

“Playing coy only works on the dim, Aurora," he tells her with a smirk. "But I don’t blame you for being outside of familiar company that you think it’d work on me.”

“Ha ha.”

Minette watches with curious fascination, beaming at them, “You two must be good friends.”

Aurora and Eon turn to her at the statement.

“Am I wrong?” Minette asks, unsure now.

Aurora gives an awkward smile, a little odd on her lips, “Oh, it’s not that! We’ve known one another for years.”

“For how long, if I may ask?”

“A long, long time,” Eon replies, trying on a bracelet as well, shining black. “My mother knows her aunt.”

“Ohh, I see! I wasn’t aware that you knew the royal family, Eon.”

“Not many do,” he answers.

“How do you know Eon?” Aurora returns the question to the other woman.

“He lived near me at Bright Moon,” Minette explains. “I was a resident of the complexes there.”

“Really?” Aurora asks, shocked. “Why did you move here?”

“I always liked to engage in the unusual,” Minette tells her. A happy smile grows on her face, “It was delightful having Eon move in next door. I had become acquainted with his family when they would visit, and they informed me that my designs might strike a chord with a different crowd too, so I decided to set up shop outside of Bright Moon. I’m going to live here permanently, but I’ll be keeping my place over there to be in touch with my family.”

“Oh, I see…”

Minette notes the slight change in Aurora’s disposition. She sets down a narrow container on the table, “Do not misunderstand, Your Highness! Eon and I had been neighbors for a good few years, and he talked to me about the changes occurring on Beast Island. It seemed like a good opportunity to try my business out here too and build a second location. I grew up in Bright Moon, of course, but a change of pace now and again doesn’t hurt, right? I love my home, but knowing that Beast Island had potential was exciting!”

Eon gives Aurora a brief glance, “Surely, you understand what she means.”

Aurora goes quiet, not wanting to look at him. The two enter a chit chat that doesn’t involve her, to which she finds relief. She doesn’t fully… understand Minette’s motivations. He, unfortunately, is correct. An overachiever herself, Aurora can comprehend pushing toward her goals. But her ties to her home are so valuable, that she can’t help but feel a little slighted that a subject of hers decided that it was better to live here, in an underdeveloped metropolis. She can’t disconnect that success is tied to her kingdom and all its facets. It figures that Eon would be capable of convincing someone that, an idea they’d never considered before, might be what they want. He was always good at that.

It has been… ages since they’ve been in each other’s presence. They don’t interact often, but when they do it can be rather... tense. Tense is how she describes her relationship with Eon. His personality is both sardonic and frigid, which can lead to frustrating discussions. He has been more than pleasant thus far—even with his tendency to argue with her. She attempts to be cordial when she can, but she finds his quips to cut to the quick bothersome.

Then he does things like hold out chairs for her, or open doors and allow her to enter first, and she’s a little confused how someone can hold her with contempt and yet high enough esteem to do favors.

Maddening is also how it can be expressed being around Eon.

Aurora’s curiosity rises when Minette pulls out another box, dark and smooth, with a simple crescent moon latch on the front.

“These are my latest earrings!” Minette says, opening it. An array of different sets are revealed, but Aurora’s eyes hone in on a simple pair: pink tear-drop shaped earrings, not looking like anything special, but they have a soft sheen to their color that’s appealing.

“Your Highness, you seem taken with these,” Minette pulls them out. “Would you care to try them on?”

“Oh! Um, yes, thank you,” Aurora holds them in her hands, delicately pinning each one through her earlobes. Minette places a mirror in front of her, and Aurora discovers that she not only finds them pleasing, but she’s enchanted by it. They dangle as she moves her head, and she smiles. Genuine and delighted. “These are beautiful.”

“Thank you!” Minette turns to Eon. “And what about you?”

Eon stares at Aurora, and he pulls himself out of his reverie before Aurora can turn to face him. He looks down at the velvety interior, checking the selection. He does find his eyes trained on a similar pair, but in lovely lavender rather than the rosy pink she chose, their diameter wider a bit at the tip before becoming more rounded at the bottom by comparison as well. He picks it up, staring at it for a moment.

“Try them on, try them on!” encourages Minette.

Eon does as she says, and he checks the mirror too. He gives a light chuckle, the side of his mouth tilting up, “You do know how to win a man over.”

Minette claps her hands excitedly, “Good! Do you two like them enough to get them?”

Aurora nods, beaming, “Yes, absolutely!”

“Yes, I definitely want them,” Eon begins. He reaches for his pocket, “How much is this, Minette?”

“Eon, you silly boy,” the older woman giggles. “Consider them a gift from me to the both of you, hm?”

Aurora waves a hand, “Oh, that’s sweet of you, but you should be paid for your work!”

Eon nods in agreement, taken aback, “It doesn’t feel right to have them handed over. I can pay for Aurora’s set as well.”

Aurora, a little flattered despite herself, coos, “Aww, really?”

“Yes, really,” he answers.

Minette wags a finger, “Ah-ah-ah! I won’t hear of it. It really is my way of saying thanks to Eon for helping out today and times past; and Your Highness, I’d be honored if you wore them!”

Grinning, Eon shrugs, reclining in his seat, “Well, who am I to turn down a free present?”

“Thank you very much, Minette,” Aurora says. She looks at the mirror again, enjoying herself for the first time today.

                                                            -

Glimmer stands next to Entrapta, looking over a couple of blueprints that the engineer created with a team of clones. The day has passed with little event, and Glimmer was glad about that. She addresses Entrapta, “How is Odessa, by the way? Will she be home soon?”

Entrapta nods, widening her smile, “Yes! She will be home in a month.”

“Ooh, that’s exciting!” Glimmer says. “I bet you’ve missed her.”

“I knooooow!” Entrapta flips in place through the air. “I told her if she found anything interesting to bring it back!”

“Where did she go again?”

“She went to visit our family in Inicos. It’s a long journey, but the return trip is much shorter.”

Glimmer nods, then glances at Hordak. She leans in, whispering, “Do you think Hordak is excited?”

Entrapta picks up the cue, and whispers back, “Yes! Hordak doesn’t show it, but he misses our baby too.”

“That’s so cute!” Glimmer says.

“I know!”

From where he stands, Hordak’s ears twitch a little, looking over his shoulder at the women. They simply wave at him, and he resumes conversation with Bow.

Glimmer turns her attention toward the darkening sky. It’ll be about time to head back to the castle. She’s been enjoying herself since she’s arrived. Even with all the experience she has now, she cannot help but feel unsettled when she’s in the palace for too long, and it has been an overdue time in regards to going out. Beast Island may not be what individuals think of for relaxation and enjoyment, but without all the technology trying to kill you, it’s fun. Bow can attest to that.

The sound of the elevator is familiar by now that none of them turn to it. But a moment later, Glimmer hears, “Hi, Mama!”

She looks over Entrapta’s shoulder, and she rises to greet her daughter, “Aurora! Hi, honey. Did you have a good time?”

The princess gives a delicate shrug of her shoulders, “I suppose.”

“Are those earrings?” Glimmer asks, pointing to her ears. “You didn’t have them on before.”

Aurora touches one, “Oh, yes! Do you like them?”

“I adore them! They’re such a compliment to your face—” begins Glimmer, when her eyes slide over to the left. She lets out a loud gasp, “Eon!”

Eon continues his strides, giving a salute with his hand, “Hello.”

Glimmer, despite being dwarfed by the younger man, teleports over the remaining four feet and crushes him to her. “Oh my gosh, how’ve you been?”

“Not broken,” he remarks.

“Oh, I know you’re fine!” Glimmer laughs, releasing him. She holds his wrists in her hands, appraising him. “By the moon, you’ve gotten tall.”

Eon brushes his hair from his face, grinning down at her, “Thank you, it’s genetics.”

Entrapta bounces over, giving him an affectionate pat on the back, “And your strict diet!”

“That too,” he agrees. “I’d kill to have a slice of cake.”

“Were you with Aurora just now?” Bow asks, walking over to them with Hordak.

“She accompanied me all day,” Eon informs the couples. “She performed good samaritan duties.”

Glimmer can’t help her astonishment. She looks at Aurora, “Really?”

“He happened to be walking by, that’s all,” Aurora explains. “He worked, I watched.”

Bow holds his daughter by the shoulder, pulling her to him, giving her a happy shake, “You learned a thing or two though, didn’t you?”

“Sure, Papa.”

Eon leans down to Glimmer, “You know, she actually got dirt on her.”

“For once, huh?” Glimmer jests back.

Flushing, Aurora crosses her arms, “Mama, please…”

Hordak turns to Bow, “Will you three be returning to Bright Moon now?”

Bow nods, “Since Aurora is here, and it’s getting late, we likely should.”

Glimmer turns to the clone family, “Would any of you be interested in coming back and having dinner? The cooks don’t mind that!”

Entrapta shakes her head, “As much as I’d like to ask for tiny food from your chefs, Hordak and I have a previous engagement to attend to, so we’ll have to say no!”

Hordak nods at them, “Perhaps another time.”

“Got it!” Glimmer says, looking up at Eon. “What about you? You can have that slice of cake with us!”

“I got something to finish up here, but thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Eon, please, it’s Glimmer!”

“Sorry, Glimmer.”

Bow adds, “You should come by the next time you’re around!”

“Thank you,” Eon says, glancing at Aurora. “I’ll consider it some time.”

After a few more pleasantries, Eon bids farewell first. Hordak and Entrapta accompany the family to the portal about halfway before they veer off to their own place.

Glimmer stares up at her husband, “This was a great outing, wasn’t it?”

Bow stretches his arms toward the sky, “You bet! It’s good to get out of the stuffy meetings now and then.”

Aurora purses her lips, “I think we could’ve gone home sooner.”

Glimmer looks at her daughter, “Didn’t you have fun with Eon?”

“I had as much fun as one could while watching someone do menial labor,” Aurora replies.

“It’s good to get out regardless,” Bow says.

“I did always like that boy,” Glimmer tells them.

Aurora sighs, not understanding how he can win her parents over. He can be charming, to be sure, and he surprised her today by how useful he was to others. Even thoughtful. But he doesn’t have anything else going for him. She finds it to be a lucky thing that he enjoys being distant from her too.

Today was a fluke.

After all, he is a clone’s son.

                                                             -

Entrapta holds Hordak to her chest, brushing his hair as he falls asleep, “Did you have fun earlier today?”

“In the house or with our friends?”

“Both!”

Hordak smiles at her. His fingers slide up to touch her face, “I did enjoy myself.”

Entrapta leans forward, kissing the bridge of his nose. She puts their foreheads together, “Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything?”

“You can return the favor to me later,” Hordak says. “I’m comfortable.”

Entrapta continues petting his scalp, finding that she is also in a cozy position, and maybe they will just have more fun tomorrow. She yawns, voice getting drowsy, “Are you happy Odessa is coming soon?”

“Yes, I am,” he replies. “There’s much to discuss with her.”

“There is…”

Hordak’s eyes drift to his wife’s collarbone. Breathing in the scent of her skin, Hordak pulls her closer. His thoughts begin to pick up in the quiet of the room. Churning. Once his mind finds something to think about, he can have as much a difficult time letting it be as Entrapta could. And their daughter was, for better or worse, the same.

He asks, with unusual hesitation, “Is Odessa keeping something from me? She has a strong wanderlust, and she enjoys visiting family but... she doesn’t feel like herself. When she left, it seemed as if she was unsure of how to approach me. That she didn’t want to inform me of any event she experienced. Am I imagining it?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Entrapta?”

The question receives light snores as a response.

Sighing, Hordak kisses the column of her throat before settling into her chest, unable to stop thinking of his dream from earlier. The sense of unease he has balled in his chest.

He is curious what this odyssey would entail for his daughter and her friends.

And he is worried what the outcome may be.

[barnesandco]

Eat the Rich: Chapter 1

Eat the Rich Masterlist

The Avengers are tasked with tracking down an elusive thief, and retrieving the grand amounts of money she has stolen. Even after capture, she turns out to be impossible to break, save for a mystifying interest in Bucky.

Written for @mermaidxatxheart ‘s #jamiesmadwritingbash, under the Robin Hood AU prompt, with the dialogue prompt “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing, running around with the end of the world on her his arm?” in bold in this chapter.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: mentions of nightmares, memory loss and recovery, brief mentions of Bucky’s Winter Soldier days, and canon-level violence. Lots of frustrated Avengers. A bit of flirting.

A/N: I can’t decide if I want this series to make people laugh or cry, so good luck. Please comment and reblog! 

Divider by the fantastically talented @whimsicalrogers​!

The Avengers are confused. Perplexed and far out of their depths, they’re strewed about the meeting room with variants of displeasure on their faces. Bucky wears the biggest scowl of all, sitting ramrod straight in an armchair intended for postures far more comfortable. The source of their malcontent hovers in a hologram above the conference table, somehow managing to look bored while handcuffed and bound to a steel chair in the most secure interrogation room in the Compound.

You’re a thief. A crook who has been stealing big money from bigger people, in a slew of prominent heists that eventually led to the Avengers’ recruitment to your case. High stakes burglary isn’t their field, but when certain people threw their weight around, demanding a serious investigation, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes had no choice but to play detectives to one elusive criminal.

A flirtatious one, too, Bucky thinks, remembering your first confrontation, as he traces the seams of his metal arm with the softer pads of his flesh fingers. 

Sam, Nat, and Bucky had tracked you all the way to Paris, where, one night, Sam gave chase while Bucky waited to intercept you on the predicted escape route, in an alley behind one of the classiest bars in town. Their prediction had proved accurate, and you had pretty much run straight into Bucky’s waiting arms. 

The ensuing fight should have been an easy one, and Bucky made the awful mistake -- the mistake he hadn’t made since meeting the Widows in the Red Room -- of underestimating a woman, and he ended up paying for it. 

His fists clench in his lap at the memory of how you had pulled a very Widow move on him, and he had wound up on his back with your thighs around his neck in a chokehold almost gentle. You had leaned over him to tie his hands together, and left him panting, out of breath, and with the taste of rust in his mouth. Clambering off, and wiping away the blood at the corner of his lip, you had then said, “I look forward to our rematch, handsome,” before disappearing into the dark, French night.

“Barnes?” He hears Stark call, and he blinks. “You still with us, or are you daydreaming about your girlfriend?” The room grows silent, and Bucky can sense suppressed smiles and silent glares, the latter aimed at Stark from Steve.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he grouses, letting his metal fingers dig into his kneecaps.

Sam, coffee abandoned on the table in front of him, eyes twinkling says, “We heard her through the coms, Barnes. In Paris, and in Buenos Aires.”

“And Oslo,” Peter pipes up, and Bucky falls back into the memory of autumn frost crunching under his feet, the reverberations of the orchestra in the opera house as he followed your coat-tails -- you played violin, because why the hell not -- down the busy street. Power-walking turned to running, and you had ended up in a crowded, posh bar with Bucky backing you into the wall in the hallway leading to the restrooms, holding your hands in one metal fist behind you.

Still, you had been unperturbed, trying to distract him with gemstone eyes while he called backup -- Stark, soaring in stealth mode above the fjord. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing, running around with the end of the world on his arm?” You had asked, gesturing toward his metal shoulder, no struggle, no flight or fight. 

Red-lipped smiles, you had given him, and he had been so close to pulling out the handcuffs until a trio of burly security guards had appeared, your backup, apparently, and engaged him in enough combat to allow you to escape. 

“She seems to like you,” Sam finishes piercing the haze of another battle lost, less violently at least, and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like her,” is the best he can come up with, and he stands, moves towards a window overlooking the grounds, addressing the bulletproof glass, next. “What I would like is for us to get the money back so we can all go on our merry way and pretend this ever happened.”

The room falls quiet at that. Every person here is acutely aware of the fact that they’re no closer to getting the money back -- nobody could ever spend the amounts you’ve stolen recently, so quickly; FRIDAY’s run simulations on it -- and you haven’t budged under the interrogations you’ve faced thus far.

Barton enters the room as soon as he gets off the quinjet, still in his typical Bed Stuy uniform -- ripped jeans and purple t-shirt -- and Bucky, alongside Natasha and Sam in the observation room behind the one way glass, can see the angle he’s going with. 

It’s almost cliché, or maybe it’s just Clint, so relaxed and loose-limbed with too much pizza in his system and likely smelling of one-eyed dog -- Bucky adores Lucky, but he’ll never admit it -- the way he turns his chair around and sits, resting his chin on folded arms atop the back of the chair. 

For a moment, Bucky worries he’s fallen asleep right there, until his blond head lifts ever so slightly and he says, “Would you like something to drink?” 

You quirks a smile. “I’d like a proper introduction. What, were you raised in a barn?” The smirk is teasing, but there’s no bite, like you’re greeting an old friend with an inside joke. Barton traces the edge of the table.

“Almost. Ever heard of Waverly, Iowa?” He asks. 

You shake your head, and then, grin, informing, “No, but I have heard of you, Clint Barton.”

“So you didn’t need an introduction.”

“I’m a prankster, can’t you tell?” Bucky thinks of the navy blue dress in Prague, the tiny but powerful stink bombs you had kept in a thigh holster, how you had left them coughing. 

“Jokes are all well and good but, uh, stealing isn’t so funny,” Clint answers., sitting up, and Bucky can hear in his hardening tone that he’s starting to get serious. 

“Depends on who you’re stealing from,” is your flippant response.

“Also depends on who has to get the money back, too, and let me tell you, we’re a little tired of playing games.”

“Then I guess I win, right?”

“Are you sure you don’t recognize her? Her tactics seem familiar,” Sam says, and the sensation that has been aggravating the nerves in an unlocatable part of his brain since he saw her for the first time worsens, but Sam’s question is addressed to Nat.

“She’s not Red Room, if that’s what you mean. The Widows were trained to be merciless. She avoids getting more physical than she needs to,” Natasha answers, retying the band on her braid, flaming red hair coiled over her shoulder.

“She broke Bucky’s nose,” Steve points out in protest. 

Nat shrugs, leans forward to doodle on the notepad resting on her knee. “If it was me, I might have knocked some teeth out. Maybe pulled a knife or garrotte.”

“You have to tell me where you get those sting-y things,” you say the moment Nat enters the room, eyes sparkling and wide with awe. Bucky winces as he remembers the short-circuit from that little electric disc. The engineers in the bank had been pretty troubled by the thought of what could’ve caused that kind of damage to the internal systems, until he his fist around one of their necks gave them something else to worry ab--

Steve’s hand on his shoulder startles him back to the observation room instead of Hydra’s clutches, and he says, “Hey, Bucky, how’s it going?” with a nod to the room in front of them. Vibranium cuffs peek out from under the large, green hoodie that envelopes your form, making you look deceptively soft.

“She wants to know where Nat gets her taser discs.”

“You’re eager for those even after you’ve felt how much they hurt?” Nat asks calmly, and Bucky imagines an ice-cool smirk on her lips as she reminds you of how exactly you were captured. It was the tasers that brought you down, after Sam, Steve and Bucky flew and ran you to exhaustion through the streets of Algiers, costing Stark some collateral payments. He hadn’t minded too much, just been happy to have you in custody, finally.

“They look like they’d be fun to use. Pretty handy around certain metal armed men, too,” you suggest playfully.

“Yeah, he isn’t going to talk to you, but I’ve been looking forward to this chat of ours, so why don’t you start by telling me your name.”

“I don’t have one. I’m a ghost story,” you say, and Bucky assumes Nat is looking unimpressed, because you press forward with the joke. “You’re going to need a medium to talk to me.”

“And where do you suppose I find one of those?”

“You have one. Isn’t Bucky Barnes a ghost story, too?”

Sam’s about to name what is sure to be another way to cause unnecessary injury when Bucky butts in. “It doesn’t matter how she hurt me or how she could have hurt me,” this, with a glare at Natasha, who smiles down at the paper. “We have a burglar with billions stashed away and a buncha angry billionaires breathin’ down our necks to find it.”

“Well why don’t you give it a go if you think it’s so easy?” Looking up from the hangman sketch, Nat fixes emerald eyes on his, reminding him, once again, of the unusual interest you’ve taken in Bucky. One that started with mid-battle conversations of a different nature, and that has extended into custody. Something that’s been bugging Steve, his protective instinct whirring into overdrive -- Bucky sees his eye twitch from across the room at Nat’s remark -- no more so than during Steve’s turn to question the captive.

“You guys are all taking your turns playing Good Cop Bad Cop, but I haven’t seen Robocop yet. Why is that?”

“You left him tied up in Paris–”

“There’s an innuendo in there somewhere,” you sing-song, head tilting rhythmically from side to side. Bucky clenches his fists in the observation room.

“–so he isn’t much obliged to see you,” Steve finishes, bypassing your interruption.

Playful eyes with laser determination, unperturbed by locked rooms and handcuffs, focus on a spot just above Steve’s shoulder, almost looking through the glass, even though Bucky knows it’s just a mirror for you. “What a shame. I was hoping our little back alley tussle wouldn’t scare the big, bad White Wolf away.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Are you going to tell us where the money is or do you want formal charges and a jail cell?” He asks, shifting so he blocks your line of sight, folds his hands on the table, and broadens his shoulders, all-Captain and no-nonsense.

“Giving up on me so easy?”

“I wouldn’t call it easy, miss. We’ve been looking for months and tried just about everything to get you to cooperate.”

“Not everything.”

“She’s yawning,” Sam proclaims indignantly, glaring, shocked, at the hologram where indeed, the source of their troubles is yawning, like you could fall asleep, tied up and all. “Unbelievable.” He shakes his head, and Bucky stops a snort from escaping. He’s seen all kinds of interrogations, faced a fair few, too, and this woman is just warming up.

The ensuing discussion and debate continues for hours, until the sun sets behind the window Bucky’s standing by, and what silences them is the thump with which Clint puts his hearing aids on the table in front of him. Sam’s coffee wobbles dangerously, and everyone sighs as Clint wordlessly tells them to shut up. Murmurs of agreement to rest and get a fresh start tomorrow echo through the room, and Bucky catches Barton’s eye, and receives a wink. 

Later that night, in his room, Bucky knows he’s not going to get a minute of sleep. It’s just an intuition, something his very bones are telling him, and he sees no reason to dispute it. Under the throbbing ache in his head, there’s an itch in the grey matter of his mind, somewhere he can’t reach, and he twists and turns. The feeling is recognizable as the vexation inflicted when he’s on the verge of a memory, but those return either by dream or by sense these days.

Dreams are for the bad memories, the days of the Winter Soldier, his subconscious loosening whatever locks his mind placed to compartmentalize the pain, to stuff it all away. The nightmares, the terrible memories leave him shaking, but therapy helps. By a few percent, but when the load of pain is as heavy as his is, every small burden taken off his shoulder helps.

Sense brings back the time before Hydra, although it’s sometimes hard to believe there was one. Steve’s face buried in his shoulder, be careful, Buck; Romanian take out, his mother’s hands; faucet dripping, water running out; oranges exploding on his tongue, a month’s salary plus overtime from working at the docks for that sweet rush once a year. The Depression, the first war -- trench memory brought back by a rainy run in Central Park, the scent of muddy petrichor in the air -- snowfall in the Alps, Dugan’s cigar. His body remembers, and then shows his mind the way.

However, this, this infuriating personality that has him incensed and restless, she isn’t in his mind in any capacity, but Bucky thinks he knows her. Or that he might have, once. And he needs to know her, again, because he hates not knowing. The nightmares hurt, and the memories of what he’s lost do, as well, but not knowing, existing in the strange limbo between certainty and loss, it’s unbearable. If this woman knows him, if she’s another key to another past, another piece of him, he has to talk to her.

“FRIDAY?” He asks groggily, sitting up. 

The screen in the wall across from him blinks blue in acknowledgement, along with a “Yes, sir?”

“Is Steve up?” 

“Captain Rogers is awake and having a cup of coffee in the kitchen, Sergeant,” FRIDAY tells him, and Bucky curses at the idiocy of consuming caffeine at this hour of night -- whatever’s in that shit works even on the serum and that can’t be good -- replacing his sweatpants with jeans once more and heading out to find his friend.

Steve has his back to the entryway, deep in thought -- dumbass, anyone could sneak up on you like this -- when Bucky comes in and clears his throat. The mug in Steve’s hands looks comically small, and Bucky sits down across from him at the island, reaches forward to take it from him, and downs the remaining half.

It’s just one more testament to how disturbed Steve is -- as if the careless consumption of coffee at midnight wasn’t enough -- that he lets Bucky steal his coffee. Blue meets blue in the silver dusting of moonlight, and Steve tries to locate Bucky’s purpose in his eyes before asking him for it verbally. “What is it, Buck?” He’s tired, too many missions weighing on those eyelids, but too worked up to let them close, to find rest. What Bucky’s going to say won’t help.

“Let me talk to her.”

[firstagent]

Review! Digimon Adventure: (2020) Episode 58: Hikari, New Life

In this episode, Hikari and Tailmon make it perfectly clear that this is their fight and no one, including Taichi, is going to hijack it.

One of the bigger failings of the series is in the way it portrays struggle. We’ve seen the good guys get overwhelmed in battle plenty of times, but rarely does it actually feel like there’s any risk of them losing. Even when it does there’s no sense that it will come with consequences. Inevitably, the child and/or Digimon in question digs deep and summons the extra power or new evolution needed. That is what happens here, and when combined with another enemy detached from the central conflict it keeps it from being anything remarkable. But the struggle Hikari and Tailmon face is more vivid and convincing than usual, adding a proper sense of adversity that we really should be seeing more often.

The notion of the Village of Beginnings has circulated plenty of times in Digimon, but it’s never fully realized its dramatic potential. Its first appearance in Adventure was purely light-hearted, while its brief appearance in the Dark Masters arc only served as a stark reminder of the stakes. Frontier overloaded us with cuteness before the Royal Knights came to slaughter everything, ending any hope for nuance in a pair of villains sticking around long enough to demand some. Here the babies are still in their eggs, shifting the emphasis from them to the mere concept of rebirth. Tailmon sees this place as a sign of the world’s renewal she’s been working so hard to attain, so of course she’s going to take its defense personally. It adds some meaning to the same “protect the territory from the unattached bad guy” story the series repeats over and over again.

Speaking of repeating over and over again, there’s even something to salvage Taichi’s contractually obligated appearance. While it continues to be a sad joke that the show thinks this is necessary, at least there’s a moment here. As generic as his relationship is with Hikari, you don’t need to develop much to understand why there would be apprehension over letting her and Tailmon lead the fight. Previous Hikari-focused episodes either isolated the team or forced their hands. Here Tailmon presents a logical reason for her to take point and puts Taichi in a position to authorize putting his sister in direct danger. Taichi pushing back would be both inconsistent and would force the show to develop this relationship, so that’s not happening. But for a second he looked like he had doubts, and that’s close enough to a moment of genuine characterization that we can appreciate it.

Not only does Taichi approve putting Hikari in direct danger, the battle convincingly conveys her and Tailmon being in direct danger! Overwhelmed by a swarm of Soulmon and outmatched by SkullBaluchimon, there’s more desperation than usual. Tailmon goes all out to slash her way through as many Soulmon as she can, and Hikari is forced to help her out with some impressive moves of her own, a unique look for the eight-year-old version. Less new but no less refreshing is seeing the toil it takes. These two are put through the ringer. They’re exhausted, dinged up, and even the arrival of Angewomon isn’t enough at first.

There’s a point to this suffering as well. This sort of determination is standard for Tailmon. She’s always been a crusader, refusing to be denied the symbolic victory the village represents. It’s not the first time Hikari’s worked alongside her, but it feels like the first time she sacrifices just as much in the name of victory. And it’s her who taps into her crest power by touching a dying egg, the first time this process feels natural and appropriate. Tailmon’s fierce attitude has always made her one of the strongest characters in the series, and Hikari proving herself capable of keeping up with her makes them a more convincing partnership than most of the others.

Even if it follows the same script, the improved presentation is compelling enough to work. It might be a crude approach, and having Taichi and Takeru spend the entire fight without much to do doesn’t help, but it’s an improvement on most of the ways this story is told. We can still hope for more variance, more relevance to the main plot, and more personality, but this is what the baseline should look like. Make the stakes personal, make the battle punishing, and make the kid get a workout instead of riding on their partner’s shoulders the whole time. That alone won’t make the show great, but it will make it much more tolerable.

My Grade: B+

Loose Data:

Tailmon acts like the Petaldramon thing happened a long time ago. Sure 14 episodes feels like a long time ago, but that wasn’t that long before Millenniumon went down and that couldn’t have seemed like that long ago to Tailmon considering how much of that span was spent in Joe’s hot spring.

Hikari gives us all sorts of weird angles and looks this time around. It’s quite janky, but also very unique to this episode, helping set it apart from the usual business.

Quite a few things click in this episode, from the power of a village of renewal drawing evil energy, Tailmon’s Holy Ring helping detect the Soulmon, to just having Muchomon around to give them a tour.

See reviews of every Digimon episode at Digimon: System Restore! Support the site by joining our Patreon!

[jae-daddy]

magic (4)

Draco Malfoy Fanfic 

one / two / three  / five / six

pairing: draco x reader genre: shifting realities, romance, clown shit plot: you mistaken shift realities too well and end up in harry potter universe with draco malfoy as your companion  a/n: i need to stop getting carried away and writing so much lmao. hope yall enjoy it <3 not edited

"Can’t you magic this, so it’s a bit bigger?” You walked out wearing the white and green jumper Draco got for you.

Draco just ignored you and straightened his collar. His hair brushed back, and the black suit stark against his pale skin.

He was undeniably the most attractive human you had ever seen. The TikTok, movies and pictures did not do justice to his beauty. The one that existed in your universe dulled down his beauty.

You had realised on the second night you spent here, that while Draco did look like Tom Felton, he was, in fact, not Tom Felton. It was him, but not him. It was Draco Malfoy. In this universe, no Tom Felton was playing the character, it was just Draco Malfoy, and he was magnificent.

Your eyes met his sliver ones through the reflection, making you frown as you gestured to your outfit.

“I was hoping for a more oversized, boyfriend’s-jersey aesthetic,” you muttered as you spun in front of the mirror. “I mean, it’s not bad, but a little bigger would just be perfect.”

“It won’t make a difference,” Draco sighed, as he turned to face you. “You will still remain a hideous muggle.”

You rolled your eyes at him, as he walked past you. “Not everything is about you Malfoy. This is about self-confidence and love.”

“Are you coming?” He ignored you, as he held the door open for you.

You looked at him with butterflies dancing in your stomach as your palms got sweaty. You gulped as you looked beyond him to the dark hallway outside.

Your eyes glanced at Draco’s face to find him watching you impatiently. You wiped your palms on the pair of joggers you had borrowed from Draco.

You were nervous. You had thought about leaving this room a thousand times over the past week, but now that the moment was here, you were scared.

What if you didn’t remain invisible? What if you’re somehow caught?

What would happen to you? What would happen to Draco?

Your shaky gaze fixed on Draco once more, and his face softened slightly as he gave you a small reassuring nod.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. With your fists clenched tightly by your side, you marched outside of the room. You felt yourself brush past Draco, and the door close behind you.

You remained still; your eyes shut tight as you stood there unmoving.

“Let’s go, muggle,” Draco whispered in your ear, making you jump. He looked at you his eyes lighting up with amusement as he smirked at you. He was enjoying seeing you so on the edge.

“I wouldn’t worry as much if I were you,” Draco pulled you by the elbow as he began strutting down the stretching hallway. “My parents have left for the game long ago, and no one is here to see you in all your disgusting muggle glory.”

You glared at his head, before relaxing by his side.

He led you through the maze, called Malfoy Mansion, until you were finally outside.

You almost hissed as the sunlight assaulted your eyes.

“I feel like a vampire,” you muttered, making Draco chuckle.

“You really do not want to feel like a vampire,” he snickered, making you turn to him with eyes wide in surprise.

“No way!” You gasped. “There are actual vampires here? Are they hot?”

Draco peered at you with absolute disgust, “I will choose to ignore whatever you just said.”

“I guess not then,” you sighed as you folded your arms and stomped behind him. You hoped you could get a little mixture of every supernatural fantasy, maybe dip your toe into the Twilight world before you returned home.

Your steps stopped as you approached a beautiful red car. It was a real vintage that you only saw in movies or sportscar conventions. The top was down, and you were ready for a vintage seventies trip.

“Wow,” you awed as you ran your fingers over the cool metal as you made your way to the passenger side.

“I know,” Draco smiled brightly, as he sat into the driver's seat.

You stared at him before snorting at his ridiculous actions.

“Does this car drive itself?” You snorted at him as he put on his sunglasses. He pointed to the middle, and just like magic, another pair appeared. You put them on rolling your eyes.

“It can,” he shrugged after a moment, before starting the engine with a button. “But I like driving it.”

“Draco, do you even have your license?” You quirked an eyebrow at the boy.

“Of course I do,” he sneered, but he was too happy to make it hateful. “The only reason I got this for my birthday last year was that I passed.”

“Aww,” you swooned at him, sarcastically. “Daddy bought you a nice car for your sweet sixteen?”

Draco smirked at you, bringing his glasses down a bit before winking, “I’m twenty-two.”

The car drove off speedily, as he rammed the pedal.

“Fuck off,” you shot back. “You’re still in high school.”

Draco just snickered, the wind blew through his hair. He rested his elbow on the edge, letting the wind run through his fingers. He smiled, as tilted his head back and you almost screamed at him to look at the road.

“We learned about your education system in muggle studies,” he spoke, not looking at you. “It is quite a scam, really. But we do not have what you muggles call universities. Hogwarts and other magical institutions teach everything you need to know.”

“Then how do you become a scholar?” You furrowed your eyebrows. It doesn’t make sense that education is limited to just a few years of study, and then expect wizards to know all.

“You work in that field, you dedicate your life to that magic,” he shrugged, before continuing. “The wizarding world is not built on capitalism where jobs are everything. Wizards do not need a job to survive.”

You nodded taking it all that in. You sunk into your seat and looked at the scene that rushed past you. It was beautiful.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re still in Hogwarts,” you frowned at him.

Draco just sighed, annoyed. “Hogwarts is all the education a wizard needs. I shouldn’t have to spell out that would take some time. Each Hogwarts year is two years long.”

“The maths doesn’t add up.” You muttered, folding your arms as you turned away from him. You watched as the plain hills and lakes rushed by you.

You closed your eyes and welcomed the cold crisp wind jolting you awake.

“Don’t stress your pretty muggle mind,” was all Draco said.

__________

“Draco,” you stopped the blonde boy as he reached for another vile. “I know I’m not an expert at magic, but I do have a feeling that it is quite possible to overdose on potions.”

Draco stared at you, his eyes examining you and then the bottle in his hand. He sighed as he put in back.

“I guess two should be enough,” and then as an afterthought put two more into the inner pockets of his jacket. “Alright, stand still now.”

He pulled out a small jar from his bag and he opened it to reveal black paint. He dipped two fingers in before motioning you to come closer. You stood in between his parted legs, as he sat on the hood of his car parked a few miles away from where the Quidditch World Cup was taking place.

You gasped slightly as the cool paint touched your face. You tried hard not to look at Draco’s face, despite the burning feeling of his gaze fixed on you.

You gulped to calm your heart that was beating louder than it should be.

Draco’s fingers dragged along your cheek, leaving two lines. And then he held your chin with his thumb turning your face to the other side.

Your eyes met his piercing ones, and your breath got caught at the back off your throat.

God, you thought he was gorgeous from far away. But right now, from this close, you realised there were no words to describe just how incredibly good-looking he was. His skin was clear, soft and reminded you of snow-covered mountains in the middle of blooming winter. You realised his eyes weren’t blue or grey, no, there were a colour that reminded you of winter mornings.

You felt your cheeks heat as his eyes took you in.

You felt his fingers touch your face with the cool paint.

Draco took his time, his hands moving slowly as he softly ran his fingers along your cheeks. You didn’t want them to ever stop, you wanted it to continue.

You wanted his fingers to trace your ear, then travel down your neck, and keep moving south.

You bit your lip as your eyes shut involuntarily.

You could feel the vicious victory smile plastered smugly on Draco’s handsome face but you couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes.

Draco’s fingers stopped on your cheek by your ear, and you thought it was over.

But then you felt the ghost of his touch trail down. His knuckles tracing the slope of your face for the slightest moment, and then it was gone.

He pushed you back, making your eyes shoot open.

You stared at him, glowering, before fear flashed through them as Draco pulled out his wand.

He snorted, as he rose a perfect eyebrow at you, “Scared, muggle?”

You rolled your eyes as you chuckled at him, “Are you trying to create sexual tension with me as you do with Harry Potter?”

Draco took a deep breath as if holding onto the last bit of self-control he had. He opened his eyes, burning with anger, his jaw locked.

“You’re not denying it,” you smirked, folding your arms.

“Do not test me, muggle,” he sneered, his voice dripping with so much anger, you took a step back in fear.  

The smirk fell from your lips as your eyes bounced between the ground and the vicious muggle-hating boy.

He cleared his throat after a moment, his stiff body relaxing slightly. You didn’t follow his shift in tension and remained on the edge of the road not nearing him.

Draco noticed but didn’t say anything.

“Time to make you invisible.” He got up from the car, and walked towards you, his wand dancing between his long fingers.

___________

“I’m so excited!” you giggled as you turned to a sour-faced Draco. “I’ve never gone to quidditch game before.”

“Lucky you,” he muttered, sourly, his eyes following you. “Your first game, and it is in the Minister’s box.”

You just giggled as you skipped along, only to stop when you noticed the older Malfoy laughing with some old man.

Draco came behind you, his breath brushing your ear, “Stay behind me.”

You nodded trailing behind him. 

You didn’t speak or move while you were around Lucius Malfoy. You weren’t sure if you were even breathing at times.

You must’ve been doing a good job because Draco would look over his shoulder occasionally to check if you were still there.

You watched Draco meet the other old men, and kept looking around for someone who might be suspicious.

It wasn’t until halfway through the game when Draco got up from his seat and turned to his father.

“Would it be alright for me to go greet Goyle and Crabbe?” He asked, his eyes darting to you for a split second. “I’ve spotted them down in first.”

Lucius Malfoy just waved a hand, but Draco didn’t need more as he began walking away, with you hot on his heels.

“Oh my god,” you whined as you both stopped somewhere on the stairs. “I couldn’t even enjoy the game properly I was so scared.”

Draco stared at you for a moment before snorting.

He pulled out a ticket from his coat, and then, after a second, a lady with a cart appeared.

“Greetings, sir,” the lady grinned, before gesturing to the cart. “What would you like?”

Draco lifted an eyebrow to you as you took in the delicious food displayed.

“Hotdogs?” You asked Draco who hadn’t looked away from you. “What is traditional to have at these games?”

“Two hotdogs,” Draco told the lady, and instantly two appeared in his hands. He didn’t say thank you, and the lady didn’t wait, disappearing right after.

He handed you one.

“Thank you,” you whispered, taking a big bite. You chewed the most delicious hotdog you had ever tasted, and Draco snickered as he saw your eyes widen.

You rolled your eyes as you saw him begin to gloat from the pride of his Wizard world, and how your muggle realm couldn’t even compare. He was right, but you couldn’t stand his smug face.

You sniffled as the cool wind ran through your hair. You looked out to the field where a team scored another goal.

“Good thing you got merch for the winning team,” you smiled at Draco who frowned.

“I was hoping they would lose.” He clipped back.

“You would rather have me visible, then stand next to you in clothes supporting the losing team, Draco,” you shook your head at him, giggling.

Draco looked out onto the field, “Or maybe I’m living through you.”

Your smile flattered as you took in the young boy.

There he was standing in the middle of the finals of the biggest quidditch tournament of the season. The crowds roaring behind him in the bright stadium lights as he remained polished in his black suit and perfect hair. He couldn’t even support the team he wanted.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he spat as his eyes looked at you. “I don’t need your pity, filthy muggle.”

You glared at him before looking above you.

“Oh my, it’s Harry Potter,” you gasped.

Draco followed your gaze and then growled in distaste, rolling his eyes.

_____________

Draco’s father had disappeared by the time you returned to the Minister’s box, but neither of you minded. You walked through the crowds as you took in all the different people jeer around you.

You followed the crowd as it led towards a ground filled with tents and lights.

“What’s that?” you breathed looking over the crowd milling over the place.

“That’s the sewer,” Draco spat scanning the area with disgust. Your eyes met his and he rolled his eyes as the poison lessened. “It’s the breeding ground for muggles, blood traitors and mudbloods.”

You ignored his bad behaviour and looked over at the place in longing instead. You took in the rides, music and laughter and felt the need to go there.

“Can we go?” You asked Draco in the sweetest way you could.

“No,” he bit back in disgust.

“Please?” You begged, making Draco’s face curl into a sneer.

“Fine,” you huffed and began marching off by yourself. “I’ll go explore by myself. You can wait for me here if you want.”

You heard Draco groan in frustration before you heard loud footsteps behind you, “Five minutes.”

You turned to him with a huge grin, “Thank you!”

Draco rolled his eyes and followed your happy skipping form into the campsite.

However, your happiness didn’t last long. An unsettling feeling settled into your stomach making it churn with nerves. You looked around the campsite you were pretty well inside, and you felt your hands begin to shake.

The air thickened with ominous energy, some darkness, but you couldn’t put your finger in.

“What’s wrong?” Draco ordered from beside you. You turned to look at him with glazed eyes. He stared at you, his brows furrowing.

A little kid ran up to you, holding onto your hand, “Do you want to know your destiny, mam?”

You turned to the kid, your mind raging, but you nodded offering him a small smile.

Draco muttered something under his breath but followed closely behind you nonetheless.

You looked at the site, and images began flashing through your mind. It was scenes from the movies. It was the golden trio, and the Weasley twins... and something else, something else you couldn’t remember.

Suddenly, you remembered screams and pain.

You looked around looking for some clue, but you couldn’t remember.

The kid took you inside a tent, a dark-faced Draco behind you, his eyes focused on you.

And then it hit you.

Hot. Flames. Fire. Lucius Malfoy. Death Eaters.

You turned to Malfoy with wide-eyes but it wasn’t almost as if he saw your mind.

“We need to get out of here. Now.” He ordered, grabbing your hand and pulling you away.

Before you were out, you turned to the kid, your throat dry, “Run. Get your friends and family, tell everyone to run, now.”

The kid looked frightened but then nodded running off.

Draco kept leading you out, and somewhere in the distance, a woman’s bloodcurdling scream rang through the night.

You both turned to see flames erupt across the sea of tents, spreading fast. Draco’s grip tightened on your hand as he began running towards the forest.

You could feel the heat of the flames closing in around you. The temperature rising with every step you tried taking away from it. And then you were beating it, the flames moving further and further away as Draco took you to the forest.

You stopped at the edge and turned to the sight in front of you.

The music, lights and happiness all burning in the flames of hell now. Screams and cries tore through the night, and you felt your heart tear into pieces.

You fell onto your knees as each cry of pain cut through your skin. You held onto Draco’s hand, squeezing it tight to keep you in reality. You closed your eyes as a heartwrenching sob fell from you.

Your body shook as uncontrollable sobs raked through your body.

You could’ve stopped it. You could’ve done something. If only you remembered.

Your hand gripped the front of your jumper, thumping against your chest as you silently shook as your sorrow and guilt tore through your body.

Draco didn’t move. He stood there, cold.

His hand limp in yours as you squeezed it tight.

“Shouldn’t you be getting that one out of here?” His cold words spoke. You opened your eyes to find the golden trio. Your eyes met Hermonine’s for a moment before Harry and Ron dragged her away.

Draco didn’t move. He watched as flames raged on. He stood there as you clutched onto his hand as if your life depended on it.

The camp was nothing but smoke and ashes when you finally stopped crying. You felt empty. You didn’t have anything inside you.

Draco bent down to your side, his voice void of any emotion, “Let’s go.”

You turned towards him, letting him help you up. Once you were standing up, you looked into his eyes as tears fell from your eyes.

“I could’ve saved them, Draco.”

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

Scintilla

Existence in Real Time - Chapter 1

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

A/N: Alright, here’s chapter 1! I’m so excited for you to read it, please let me know what you think! Hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Peter arrives has a nice talk with Tony on his way to New York, upon his arrival he meets (y/n)

Series Masterlist

Regular Masterlist

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Peter had always known the lab was small, he could tell that much from the few times he'd been outside, but he never knew how small until he was in a massive jet hovering above it. In a mere 10 minutes the lab which had been his whole world, was nothing but a tiny speck he could barely see out of a window. It was admittedly overwhelming, but Peter was not going to let anyone know he was feeling even the tiniest bit scared, so he quickly averted his eyes and turned his attention back to Tony while he explained his plan for the next few days. 

"We're going to take you to the Avenger tower back in New York. Now for the first few days we're gonna have to keep you inside and run some tests. I'm sure the last thing you want to do is be locked up again, but try to understand we have to make sure you're not a threat to anyone, and that you're healthy and all that. I promise it won't be more than a week."

"That's okay," Peter fiddled awkwardly with his hands, "I understand."

"Good," Tony nodded in approval, "After that the plan is to set you up in my penthouse. I’ll help you adjust and get used to the rest of the world."

Peter furrowed his brow, "Why?"

"Well because there's a lot more to the world then la-"

"No, I know that. I mean why would you put me up? You helped me get out, you don't owe me anything."

"Because it's the right thing to do." Tony said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, but no one had ever done something for Peter just because it was the right thing to do. "And because the rest of these idiots don't have a paternal bone in their body, they'd get you killed in a week. I however, am already the world's best dad. Well, not that I'm trying to be your dad or anything, I'm sure you get what I mean."

Peter nodded, his eyes wandering back to the window, "You have kids?"

Tony nodded, "I have a daughter your age. I'm sure she'll be there when we get in."

"To see you?"

"Partly, but I told her we might be bringing people home, and she likes to take care of people."

"So you guys went in there for people like me?"

He nodded again, "We got some intelligence that they had been experimenting on humans. You were the only one we found in there though. Do you know of any others?"

"I haven't met any but they've talked about them," a small smile crept onto his lips, "Figures I'd be the only one to get out, I'm always the problematic one."

Tony chuckled, "Well it plays in your favor today. Any idea where the others might be?"

"No. I know some of them get to leave sometimes but I don't know where they go. I just know about me really."

"Right. Spiderboy," he snickered.

Peter shot him a glare, "I'm not a boy, I'm a spiderman at the very least."

Tony kept laughing, "Alright, Spiderman, I've got a few more things to ask you about, but this is gonna be a long flight, so how about something to eat?"

Peter bit the inside of his cheek before nodding, "Yeah, some food would be nice."

"Sure thing, just wait right here," Tony patted his shoulder on his way out, leaving Peter with a few minutes of much needed silence.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It had only taken one glance for Peter to decide that New York City was a thousand times cooler in person than it was in any book or photo. Everything was huge, almost overwhelmingly so, and things only got bigger the closer he got. He found it hard to remove himself from the window when they landed, there were a million different details he was sure he still hadn’t taken in, but Tony had told him the view was better outside, so he’d dashed out of the jet behind him like an excited puppy. He hadn’t lied either, everything felt much closer when he stepped outside.

“Peter,” Tony addressed, forcing the boy to return his eyes in front of him, “This is my daughter, (y/n).”

(y/n) Stark made the whole city look ugly and boring by comparison.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Peter,” he felt a blush spread across his cheeks when she smiled at him.

“Nice to meet you Peter,” she offered her hand, “I’m really excited you’re gonna be staying with us.”

“Me too,” he bit his cheek.

“(y/n), we’re gonna be a few minutes, you wanna take Peter inside?” Tony nodded towards the door.

“Yeah, no problem, I can show you your room and stuff,” she motioned for him to follow her inside, “I made sure you got a good one.”

“Thanks,” he followed behind her, a bundle of nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach with each step.

“You’re welcome,” her smile was big and bright and reminded him of sunshine, “I was gonna make them get some clothes and stuff too but I didn’t know what size you were.”

“That’s okay, I don’t know either,” he laughed awkwardly, “I kind of just get handed the clothes you know?”

“Well when they’re all done with you here I’ll take you shopping, we can figure out your size together,” she glanced over her shoulder, “My guess is a medium.”

“Medium sounds right,” he bit the inside of his cheek, not totally sure what he should say next, “So, uh, what's New York like?”

“It’s absolutely magical, my favorite place in the whole world,” she stopped in front of a metal door, it was reminiscent of the lab, but better somehow, “We’ll have to get your handprint in the system but just like this,” she placed her small hand on the large pad besides the door, “And open sesame.”

“I think I can handle it,” he assured, following her inside, “Woah.”

He was taken back. The room was much bigger than his old one, and amazingly had a window. The lab had windows only on the top floor, and they were tiny and high on the walls, not the kind you could stare out of. 

“Yeah, the one in the penthouse is way better but I hope this is okay, I tried to pick one with a good view,” she was blushing again, “A-And this one has its own bathroom so maybe it’s better than the penthouse.”

“I think this one is great, it’s huge and this view is awesome,” he smiled excitedly to her, “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, I’m really glad you like it,” she moved across the room to a small desk, “I don’t know really much about your situation, but your dad told me you didn’t have access to much entertainment, so you can use this laptop for now. And I mean they’ll be monitoring it while you’re here, but nothings restricted, you can look up whatever you want. You, um, know how to use a computer right?”

He nodded, “Yeah, we were taught about everything, we were just really restricted in what we could and couldn’t do.”

“There were others?”

“Yeah, but I never met them, we were all kept separate, or at least I was.”

“That must have been lonely, I’m really sorry.”

“It was, but I’m out, so, you know,” he shrugged, really he was unsure of what else to say. He wanted to tell her he hoped he’d make friends now, that he wouldn’t be lonely anymore, but he wasn’t sure if that was okay to admit.

“Yeah, and you won’t be lonely anymore,” she smiled but averted her eyes nervously, “You can talk to me and we can be friends and everything.”

Her words brought an involuntary smile to his face, “I’d really like that, but just a warning, I don’t think I’m great at social cues.”

She laughed, letting her eyes find his once more, “Well so far you’re doing great Peter.”

(y/n) Stark was Peter’s first friend, and if you asked Peter, that made him the luckiest person on Earth. Of course, he didn’t know her well yet, but (y/n) seemed kind and it had never been so easy for him to talk to someone. She didn’t make him scared like his handlers did, and she didn’t intimidate him like the Avengers did. He couldn’t say a bad thing about (y/n), she was kind, and comfortable, and she felt safe. She was pretty too, it was the first thing he’d noticed about her, she was pretty and her smile made him feel like all his problems had disappeared.

And they had, because when Peter laid down for bed that night, it was the first time he could ever remember falling asleep with a smile.

next chapter

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[poormeowmeowcollector]

First Kiss, But Not On The Lips

Pair: Tony/ace!Loki (platonic)

Warnings: mentions of insomnia, nightmares, panic attack, isolation and alcohol.

Notes: Basically, the idiots in love trope is my favourite. Tony is a bi mess, Loki doesn't care about a thing (or cares about too many things), Thor is a himbo and Steve is trying. Also, yes, Loki has the ace ring (and a pride flag in his room) and he legally cannot sit like a normal person. And Steve lost the bet because he didn't expect Tony to find out about his crush on Loki within a month.

Read on AO3

"You know what, I get it. We all deserve second chances and blah blah blah, but can't Loki redeem his name on another solar system? What about Jötunnheim? He did a genocide there too!" Tony argues. At least he moves past the redeem part.

"I told you they would not accept me," Loki sighs at Thor, trying to appear stoic. But Tony sees the disappointment in him. Because he knows how to spot it in the mirror.

"Fine, he can stay for a month as a testing period. But if he causes trouble, he's gone," Steve decides. He loves speaking out the decisions even though no one will disagree.

And Thor smiles widely and hugs his brother. But Tony can still see the disappointment in Loki.

~~~

Sleeping is hard while knowing he's in the same building. Tony expected it, but it's still annoying.

"You know he was a victim too, why are you so afraid?" He asks himself but no answer is given.

He knows he won't be able to sleep, and there is a broken suit waiting for him in the lab.

Well, if he's about to pull an all nighter, he better be productive.

~~~

Tony had gotten his all nighter on a schedule. He would wait until Steve is asleep, go to the lab, and return to his bed only one hour before Steve wakes up. Of course and they all noticed his dark circles and moodiness, but he would blame nightmares and get away with it. Not that he was lying.

And, apparently, Tony is not the only one with sleeping issues.

Thor was claiming that Gods don't need sleep or nutrition. But Thor is also a sleeper and eats every time like it's his last time. But Loki doesn't. He barely touches whatever food is placed in front of him or drinks a little water and he looks more sleep deprived than Tony. But no one has the guts to say to a thousand years old powerful cranky god to go sleep or to eat, not even Thor.

And he doesn't talk. It's been days since his voice was heard. Thor doesn't like it, but the few times he mentioned it or tried to get Loki to speak or take part in a talk, he only got a glare. And Tony still doesn't know how Thor still makes Loki even get out of his room.

~~~

Once again, Tony is working on a new suit, during his favourite inhuman hours. Because two things come out at 3am, the devil and Tony Stark.

But the first dude is not helping Tony with the non functioning leg that's driving him insane.

"It's not going to work," Someone comments from the lab's door. Who the hell is up that late?

"Excuse me?" Tony turns around, only to face Loki leaning against the door frame.

"Remaking the joint to resemble a human's is not going to work. You need less strength and more flexibility, probably even another material," Loki explains, staring at Tony. He makes a small nod. Loki then straightens himself and walks closer.

"You know about mechanical engineering?" Tony asks.

"Science, magic, it's all the same on Asgard… and I happen to be the Master of Magic, and therefore…" He trails off, something sad blooming in his eyes. Homesickness, Tony recognises with ease.

"Alright, so, how do you think we'll make it work?" Tony asks, a grin on his face. But instead of answering, Loki just lifts his sleeves and grabs a wrench.

Tony watches as Loki plays with the machine—he looks more like he plays than like he's repairing something—and uses his magic to change the elements on the materials, green glows appearing and disappearing. And, after the five minutes it took him, the leg is perfect.

"Wow…" Tony whistles. Loki grins and sits on the working table, spinning the wrench on his fingers.

"It will probably last for a millennium or two," He shrugs, like it's something easy. And Tony is more impressed.

And they go on with the suit, finishing it before it's time for Tony to go and pretend he's sleeping. And Tony would use this time.

"Well, I didn't know you're good at engineering," Tony trails off. Loki shrugs in response, again sitting on the table with his legs in lotus position.

"You never asked,"

"Yeah, sorry about that. You are just too…" He suddenly can't find the word.

"Cold?" Loki asks, raising his eyebrows at Tony.

"Reserved is how I would phrase it, actually," Tony responds, making Loki hum.

"You know what, nevermind. I'm asking now. What do you like? What don't you like? Just rumble about things," He decides, big brown eyes staring at Loki. And he responds with another shrug.

"I don't know… it is quite late, so I'll probably head to my bed. Good morning, Stark," He jumps up and leaves, before Tony can even think of stopping him.

Right, he's just waiting for people to ask…

"So… Do you remember the rumble offer? Cause it still stands," Tony eyes Loki. And Loki responds with a smile.

~~~

The next morning, Loki didn't appear. Thor explained that he crashed on the bed. And it must be the hell of a sleep because he got out of his room three days after. Again, while Tony was working on a suit.

"Hey, wanna help?" Tony yells at Loki as he walks outside of the lab. And Loki nods a yes and gets to work.

"Still not sleeping, Stark?" He asks, his smart eyes pinned on the helmet of the suit.

"No rest for the wicked," Tony smiles. Looks like he's more talkative now that he's fresh.

"Tell me about it…" He sighs. Then, he grunts a bit, probably gotten hit by some remaining electricity.

Tony hadn't noticed before how pretty Loki's smile is.

And Loki takes the opportunity and starts to talk. Tony learns a lot about Loki during the Great Rumble. Dandelions are his favourite flowers, thanks to the Æsir library he became an encyclopaedia of random fun facts (even took it far enough to share some), he's a cat person, he loves classical music or music without lyrics, and then he starts sharing some stories of him and Thor as kids.

But Tony notices other things too. He noticed that Loki's eyes seem to glow when he talks about things that make him happy, he moves his hands around, he has this cute little smile that makes his face shine. And when he talks fast, his Nordic accent slips out—just some trilled 'r's or some harder sounds—and he also has a stutter that slips out. And Tony finds all of those so beautiful, but he can't say it.

"Your turn," Loki says. And Tony freezes.

Because his mind is nothing but simping for Loki, right now.

"I… em… Ya know, I…" He mutters, trying to think of something. But, Goddamnit, those shining green eyes pinning on him and waiting are so distracting.

"I'm actually bisexual, but more attracted to women than men," He snaps, finally finding something. But what if Asgard is not so accepting? Earth is having issues with those things and those guys live in the middle ages.

"Oh, nice," Loki shrugs after noticing Tony's brief pause. And it's enough to relax Tony.

"And… Dammit, this is so hard… I like cheeseburgers?" He squirts. "I don't know, can't think of something right now… when something pops up, I'll let you know," He gives up and rubs his nose bridge.

"No worries, you're hot anyways,"

Loki grins after seeing how red Tony's face became. And Tony clears his throat in hope of containing himself somehow.

"Alrighty… How's the helmet going? Tony moves the subject away. He sees Loki short-circuiting for a long moment, before remembering what they are doing here and grabbing back the helmet.

"It won't let me fix it… whenever I try to do something to the source of the issue, I get striked," He answers.

"Have you tried plastic gloves?" Tony asks, not even looking up from the hand he's oiling.

"For the helmet?" Loki asks, his eyebrows furrowed at Tony.

"For your hands, you idiot!" Tony screams, his head snapping heavenwards. Why did he agree on this?

"Fine, fine… Norns, dauðlegir eru svo stuttir í skapi... —Norns, Mortals are so short tempered…" Loki mutters under his breath.

"You know JARVIS can translate from Old Norse to English, right?" Tony snaps.

Loki shrugs and leaps into the working table and walks across it with three big steps, jumping back down with grace and opening shelves to find the gloves.

"They won't fit," He yells at Tony.

"Whatcha mean they won't fit?" Tony yells back.

Loki jumps on the table again and ends right behind Tony.

"I mean, they won't fit. They're too small," He answers to Tony's ear. Tony has learned how much Loki loved climbing on furniture, so he just turns around instead of jumping around and cussing at the God.

"Come on… how big are your hands?" He asks. Loki grabs Tony's hand and places his palm against his own. Tony's fingers were beginning on Loki's second joints, his fingers long and thin. And Tony licks his lips, because he knows what big hands mean…

Stop being horny over deities, you idiot! It didn't end well with Jesus and it won't end well with this one too! The, usually silent, voice of reason reminds him.

"Maybe you can magic them into fitting…" He suggests. Loki nods and stretches the left glove with his right hand, a green light making it bigger as he slides his hand inside.

"Thank you, Stark…" He smiles and climbs back on the table, eyes pinned on the helmet as he's playing with the screwdriver. It's been two weeks since he came here, and he still uses only last names. But when Clint called him Odinson, Thor, Steve and the Hulk had to physically hold Loki from snapping the archer's neck. And no one dares to call him Laufeyson or even think about it.

"Hey," Tony snaps. Loki flinches at the sudden noise but composes himself right after. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya," Tony apologizes.

"It's fine… What do you want to ask?" Loki shrugs one shoulder, placing the helmet on his right and the screwdriver on his left.

"Why do you call everyone by their last name but don't want to be addressed as so?" He asks.

"I'm not anyone's friend, and first names feel too familiar for such a situation. And, I won't stay for a long time…" He answers, the livid glow in his eyes fading just so.

"And, your last name?"

"I don't have one…" He whispers, with what Tony recognises as shame in his voice. Tony frowns and walks closer, staying outside of Loki's personal space.

"But you're Thor's brother and he's an Odinson," He studied his words before speaking. The last thing he wants is to trigger Loki, even as an accident.

"On Asgard and Jötenheim, last names work differently. You choose the name of the parent who you are closest to and then add the -son, -dottir or -barn. But Odin and Laufey were not close at all, and Frigga could help but she chose to keep me at arm's reach. So, no last name…" Tony can see how Loki was trying hard not to show emotions, but he is so close to breaking.

"You know, with this logic, only Thor has a last name. Don't tell Steve, but Howard was a first class terrible father. Steve's dad abandoned him and his mother, after beating the poor woman. Clint's parents made him run away and go to the circus. Natasha was given her name in the Red Room, she doesn't know who her parents are. And Bruce's was violent too. The only people with decent parents are Thor and JARVIS." Tony should move the topic away, but he didn't. At least he tries to patch it up on the last bit.

"And Dum-E," Loki adds, with a barely visible smile. A fake one. Tony hears the robot's joints moving as he lifts his upper part.

"And Dum-E," Tony agrees with a smile, and the robot makes a few happy noises. Loki laughs.

"You know, he says he loves you," He turns to Tony.

"If that's so, he earned some nice oil," Tony grabs the oil and applies some to Dum-E's joint. It doesn't stop making those mechanic noises and when Tony is over, Loki's smiling at him from the table.

"He still says he loves me, right?" Tony asks. Loki makes a slight nod, not abandoning his small smile.

"And that you are the best dad," He adds. Tony laughs and pets Dum-E before heading back to the table. But he still won't get too close to Loki, he is very strict with his personal space.

Loki grabs back the helmet and starts poking it around with the tool, now ignoring Tony.

"So, you don't feel like talking, huh?" Tony asks.

"If you mean the topic you want to talk about, then no," Loki snaps, not raising his eyes. Tony nods, he knows better than invading Loki's personal space.

And Loki didn't open his mouth for the rest of the night. The next morning, he would pretend nothing happened, but Tony would see how something changed in him. How his eyes darkened and his face became colder.

~~~

The next night, Loki is even more grumpy. So, Tony avoids speaking, or making anything that has even the slightest chance to irritate him.

"You're scared of me…" Loki finally speaks, his voice soft like a whisper and his fingers playing with the black ring on his ring finger. Tony looks up from the metal glove he's making to stare at Loki.

"Should I be scared?" Tony asks, careful not to say the wrong words.

"You are too picky about what you do around me. Why not do that if not because you are scared?" He answers. And this is where Tony lets himself frown and talks without thinking.

"Maybe because I don't want to make you feel bad?" He lets his words come out without filters. And Loki raises his eyebrow at it.

"Well, you don't lie about it. But why are you so dedicated to this?" He narrows his eyes and crosses his hands, body leaning towards Tony.

And now, he can't answer. Why does he care so much? It's not that they're old friends like with Rhodey or ex-s but still friends like with Pepper. They're not even teammates. Loki said it himself, he will leave after the one month Steve gave him.

So, why does Tony care so much?

"Hmm, nice answer…" Loki snarls and looks away, playing again with the other hand of the suit.

"You're a cold son of a whore, you know that?" Tony spits, his eyes stabbing Loki. He now raises his glare again, but he looks more confused than before.

"I beg your pardon?" He blinks.

"I try to be decent towards you, okay? The reasons behind it don't matter. Could be fear, guilt, interest, it means jack. And you question me on how I dare be decent towards you and why and what I want from you! You know what, I have a question for you. Why can't you accept being treated as a normal person? Are you that messed up in the brain or you just love so much being alone and miserable?" Tony lets his thoughts come out as they are, not giving a care how much they will hurt Loki. But the moment he sees Loki's reaction, he regrets it.

The room gets cold enough for Tony to see his breathing. Loki leaves the tools and the metal hand beside him and locks his feet on a tight fatal position, his hands on his face and pulling some hair with enough strength to pull them out and his shoulders rising and falling too fast.

And Tony knows what this means… It means he messed up badly.

"Crap! Hey, buddy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean those things…" He sprints closer. Loki raises his hand towards him, a green glow erupting from it and sending Tony flying to the other side of the lab.

Loki mutters something to this in Old Norse, before jumping up and leaving, his feet shaking as he was trying to walk towards the exit. But he manages to vanish in the dark corridor anyways.

And this time, Tony definitely messed up the worst way possible.

~~~

For the next two weeks, Loki doesn't get out of his room. And it only makes the knot in Tony's stomach grow tighter. He asks Thor all the time how Loki is, if he eats, if he sleeps, if he needs something. It's a wonder Thor hasn't grown tired of the constant questioning. And the answer is always the same, "I don't know, he won't let me in,".

And if everyone on the tower has learned something about Loki, is that things are bad when he keeps Thor at arm's length.

Tony wants to go and check on Loki himself, but he bets his right hand that Loki will spit curses at him, and he has every right to do so. So, he has to settle down on annoying Thor and worrying with him.

"You know what? It's my fault," Tony admits to Thor the night before Loki leaves. And Thor furrowed his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

Tony explains everything that happened that night, and Thor smiles with sympathy and touches Tony's neck.

"You were right on your words, that's why Loki reacted like this. He doesn't want people to know too much about him… But he won't be mad at you." He answers.

"But, why do I care so much? We barely know each other…" Tony asks.

"Have you thought of love?" Thor suggest. Tony is about to smack Thor for saying something like this, but it makes sense.

"Do… you don't happen to know if he's queer, right?" Tony makes the big question.

"I know very few Æsir who are not your definition of queer, but Loki was never open about those things. You better ask him…" He shrugs.

Well, Thor has a point. But Tony can't exactly ask Loki what his sexuality is while he's like this. So, he better wait till it's time.

"Thank you, Point Break…" Tony pats Thor's back. And then, JARVIS yells at them that Steve wants everyone in the central room.

And there is everyone here, even Loki. Well, an emotionally drained and mentally exhausted Loki, but he's there.

"As you know, your month has passed…" Steve begins talking, his Captain Voice on. Loki nods and lowers his shoulders to appear smaller.

"I'll be on my way, then…" He mutters, voice low and breaking. Steve wants to smile, but Loki's reaction stops him.

"So, you don't want to be an Avenger?" He lets his Captain mask fall, eyeing Loki with worry. And every single one of the Avengers is now doing the same. Tony hadn't realised that this antisocial emo little God had become so popular.

Loki lets his lips make a smile so big Tony bets it hurts like hell.

"You mean I can stay?" He asks, his voice now louder and livid.

"Can't see a reason to kick you out," Steve smiles too.

And Loki drags him to a hug tight enough to break the poor soldier in half, smiling like a sunbeam and rumbling thank you again and again.

"Alright, can you let me breathe?" Steve wheezes. Loki makes a small oh sound and lets go of the hug.

"Sorry, Steve," He hums, not breaking eye contact.

"Steve? Where's the "Rogers"?" Clint asks, his eyebrows raised and his hands signing along even though he wears his hearing aids.

"Well, since I'm about to stay, there's no point in calling you with your last names, is there?" Loki shrugs.

"Alright, you know what we need? A party. Who's with me?" Tony claps his hands and yells, glad to see everyone agreeing.

~~~

Apparently, being an alien God makes you hold your liquor a lot. Tony knew about Steve, but he didn't expect those two to have this stamina as well.

But Thor has started losing his balance and yelling at everyone how much he loves them in Old Norse and Loki's accent and stutter are showing, but he is just sitting on the bar and watching over the chaos.

This is your chance. He's happy and drunk enough, what could possibly go wrong? Tony thinks and stumbles towards Loki before he sits on a tall stool.

"So, are you having fun?" He asks, smiling at Loki and sipping on his scotch. It's fine, he's done this countless times before and he can do it now.

"It's quite nice, yes…" Loki hums, now turning to face Tony.

"And, em… Sorry about the other night… It was too much, should have been midler on ya," Tony mumbles, trying not to lower his eyes and break eye contact. Loki makes a soft nod.

"It's fine, you don't have to apologize… And you were quite right about some things…" He gives Tony a small smile as he talks, making him relax his shoulders a bit a mouth a thank you.

"And I wanna tell you something… I also talked to Thor about it… And I think… No, I'm pretty sure I have a crush on you. And, that's why the care and stuff…" Tony rumbles, his eyes big as he searches for reaction. But Loki stays untouched.

"I am… flattered… But I'm also asexual," He breathes out, staring back at Tony for a reaction.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't want to make it uncomfortable…" Tony rushes to apologize. Couldn't he see the black wedding ring? It's a symbol of asexuality!

"You know, things can work out platonically. I mean, you do start to grow on me…" Loki responds, smiling just a bit.

"Really? I mean, you don't mind?" Tony grins at the response, his eyes big at the God. Loki shrugs.

"Yeah, If you are okay with not getting laid with me…"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" Tony gives Loki an ear to ear smile and grabs his right hand, kissing gently the black ring.

Loki's cheeks and ears get bright red and he bites his lower lip. Tony is quick to let go of his hand.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable…" He chunters, now lowering his glare and playing with his glass.

"It was… nice…" Loki whispers, most likely to himself. But Tony still snaps his head up.

"Seriously?"

"Yes… And…" The red blush appears back in his cheeks as he fidgets with his sleeves. "It was the first time someone kissed me…"

"No way!" Tony exhales.

"I know, embarrassing…" Loki bites his lip again, breaking eye contact.

"I'm actually honoured. Not a lot of humans had the chance to steal the first kiss of a God, you know," Tony grins, hoping the joke is not that bad.

Loki reacts with a snorting sound and a light punch on the ribs, that sends Tony straight to the floor and makes the glass scatter in pieces.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?!" Loki squirts at Tony.

"I think I need a safeword…" Tony grunts.

He is sure that Loki will grimace on the joke, but instead, he giggles like a highschool girl.

"Most definitely yeah," He sighs, handing over an identical glass with the one they broke.

From the back of the room, no one sees Thor laughing as Steve sighs at the view of Loki and Tony and handing over the twenty dollars of the bet.

[babybatscreationsv2]

A King on a Leash ch10

Marvel | Starker

Tony Stark is a powerful man with a beautiful husband and a loyal crime family, but it looks like he didn’t keep his husband on a short enough leash. After turning Peter lose on a Cuban gang leader, Peter’s life is  in danger. The real trouble is that Tony now realizes that Peter is the  only thing in this world that he cares about and he never meant for that  to happen.

Sequel to A Doll on a String

Rating: Explicit

Full Fic

A Doll on a String

Warnings under the cut*

Warnings: violence and guns

Peter’s POV

Peter sat in front of the mirror, hooking the clasp of his necklace around his neck. He admired the diamonds on his neck as they caught the morning light. If he closed his eyes, he could just remember Tony's lips on his, his back crushed against the wall, the sound of chatter in the next room, all while Tony finally claimed him out in the hall after his performance. One would think having a necklace like that, one clearly meant to represent a collar, would be constricting and scary. But that was the day Peter came alive.

His wedding ring was pretty. It was a daily reminder, a symbol to all who saw it, that Peter was taken. But the diamond necklace, few men could afford anything like it. When you saw it around Peter's neck, you know who he belonged to as sure as having his name tattooed on his throat.

Peter admired the gems with pride. He rubbed a bit of moisturizer into his face. Then he brushed off the white fur of his coat. No suit today. Today, he was Tony's prized possession more than his partner and to be clear Peter didn't mind the sort of reduction in status. Not when they were meeting with Wilson Fisk. Fisk understood Peter's value. He understood his power, his cruelty, his loyalty. Though, he couldn't deny that Fisk looked at him as he would any Boss's wife. A look that was a tad misogynistic. He perceived Peter as feminine and therefore Peter was delicate and to be protected. If nothing else, it served Tony in his endeavor to keep Peter safe from Toomes.

So today's ensemble was one of Peter's first gifts from Tony, the fur coat. He'd replaced the white ankle boots with something new he picked practically straight off the runway. Or at least, Tony did. Tony was the one who kept up with fashion. Peter was fine wearing last year's boots, but Tony would never have his husband be so disrespected by his own clothes. Leather pants and a silk shirt turned the looked into something that was either a fabric nightmare or a visionary statement. Peter was never sure. But he was wealthy enough and high profile enough these days that anything he wore ended up on someone's Pinterest board after a day spent in the gossip mags. A trophy husband if there ever was one.

He met Tony downstairs, enjoying the way his husband eyed him up. "You ready, angel?"

"Ready and willing," he winked. Tony kissed his lips. Then he walked around him to grab his jacket. Peter took it from his hands and helped him into it. He noticed that his arms felt bigger than last he'd noticed. He'd must have been working out more often. He wanted to roll his eyes. Obviously, he was still feeling insecure. Despite their talk, it would probably take time for him to shake the feeling. It would be easier for Peter to just get rid of Harry and be done with it, but staying friends with him would be more likely to help Tony in the end. Let him see that there's nothing to worry about when nothing ever happens.

Happy drove them today. He and Tony went back and forth going over security details. Peter hoped they were just being paranoid. Wilson was unlikely to be a threat, but dining at a restaurant came with risks. Though Peter wondered how well tattooed Latino gangsters would blend in anywhere that Wilson saw fit to dine. They would stick out like a sore thumb. Not that it wasn't possible that they had friends.

The security team went in first. Then someone came to escort each of them from the car and into the building.

The restaurant was full of the same upper class snobs Peter sucked up to at donor events. Well, not now that he knew who was actually keeping the lights on. They were the sort of people who wouldn't be able to describe their waiter after leaving their table because they wouldn't look twice at someone in the service industry. Then again, Tony probably wasn't that different and people probably assumed that Peter was the same. Not that it bothered him. His fur coat was worth as much as a New York penthouse so people could think whatever they liked.

They found Wilson sitting alone near the back. A half wall separated him from the rest of the diners. He stood as they entered, greeting Peter with a kiss on his hand.

"Good to see you again, Wilson." Peter offered his prettiest smile. The man smiled fondly in return.

"Nice to see you in good health," he said. Peter could sense the implication that he knew about the situation with Los Tiburones.

"How are you this morning, Wilson?" Tony asked. They all sat down and a waiter took their drink orders. Peter looked too closely at his face, anxious that he might recognize it.

"Wondering why you're the talk of the town yet again."

"I'm a popular guy."

The waiter brought drinks and took food orders. Peter caught the way everyone at the table and the guards standing around all stiffened in preparation, but nothing happened and the waiter left again.

"Toomes says you're affecting his business."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Toomes let his boys wander around where they shouldn't have been. They're lucky they walked out alive. I'm sure they'll be out of the hospital and back in business in no time."

Wilson chuckled, helping himself to one of the rolls on the table. "They have this honey butter here," he said to Peter. "It's house made and always just right. Not too sweet." He passed the rolls to Peter who took one for himself. He didn't eat a lot of bread, but he wouldn't be rude to Wilson Fisk either.

"I'm sure you're right," he said now to Tony. "Still, let's be cautious about stirring up trouble at a time like this."

"Sure, sure. What about you pissing off that cop?"

Wilson waved his hand. "A pig is a pig. And what do we do with pigs?" He winked at Peter. "We make bacon." He laughed raucously at his own joke. Peter smiled politely.

Plates of food were delivered and conversation slowed as they ate. Half way through his meal Wilson chimed in again. "How is the wedding proceeding between Pepper and your Capo?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Just waiting for your approval I'm sure."

Wilson laughed. "One thing you aren't meant to do is marry within your own family."

"They're a good match," he reasoned.

"You would know what Ms. Potts needs I'm sure." He gave Tony an amused, but no less suggestive look.

"You and Pepper?" Peter raised an eyebrow at his husband.

Tony waved the thought away. "It was more something to get out of our systems than it was a relationship. Pepper and Happy have been dancing around for formalities' sake for too long. So I told them to go for it."

Peter snorted. "You handed me two giant glasses of vodka and sent me after them. They were so sloshed they forgot they weren't the only two people in the room. It took Bucky to separate them before any more clothes came off."

Wilson laughed again, head tossed back. "Young love, eh? No, I'm happy for them. One weakness deserves another."

"Love can be more than weakness, Wilson," Peter said.

Wilson gave him a fond smile. "For you, I'm sure it's every bit strength." He took a bite of sausage. He turned back to Tony. "So, what will you do without your underboss?"

"She hasn't decided yet that she's retiring." Peter couldn't help but notice how guarded his body language was. Still and drawn in. Was it the conversation or had he noticed something in the room?

"She will," he nodded. "She'll want children, a real home, something quiet and away from the trouble."

"If that's what she decides, then I'll make sure she has it."

"And who will take up the mantle?" Wilson spared a glance at Peter.

"That hasn't been decided yet, either."

"Hm."

"Do you have a suggestion?"

Wilson cleared his throat. "I mean no offense by it, but I think it would be unwise to promote your husband to such a role."

Tony's eyes narrowed, but only for the slightest second. "And why is that?"

"Not because he isn't capable, but because it won't lead anywhere good. An underboss is meant to do the work your hands are too busy for. And the two of you live up each others asses. You'll be juggling the workload for both, not because he cannot handle his own, but because you won't be willing to let him. Sending him out to play with this lowlife gangster was risky enough."

"You wanted your diamonds and you got them."

Wilson shrugged. "I'm not unappreciative. You gave me back Vanessa's diamonds and I handled that business at the precinct. It all ended well. Save for this problem that you are having."

"It'll be over soon."

Peter saw the ambush coming at the same moment Wilson did. All three of them whipped out their guns. Peter and Tony fired on the pair in front of them. A bullet whizzed past Peter's ear nearly close enough to put a hole in him. He turned, looking around the room. Four bodies on the floor. Four men standing. He grabbed Tony's arm at the same moment Tony reached for him, but they were both okay.

"Time to go," Wilson declared.

The rest of the room stared in shock and awe as they fled the room. One of Wilson's men met them at the door and escorted them out. There was more shooting behind them. Tony wrapped his arm around Peter and pushed his head down, pulling him into his side. Peter could have killed him for it. He couldn't protect him tucked into his side like a duckling.

Tony shot a man before he could fully remove the shotgun from his coat, but otherwise the violence remained behind them. Then the door to the restaurant closed and the screams and gunfire went away.

The three of them got into Fisk's limo. The inside was decorated as extravagantly as a grand theater. The lights were shaped like diamonds and hung down the side walls. The floor was carpeted in burgundy, the seats a rich, bloody, red. To one side was a lighted display of liquors and champagnes. It was a hotel suite more than a vehicle. Not that Tony's own limo was so different, but it was understated in comparison.

"So, not your men I presume," Fisk said. One of his giant fists held a cigar while he lit it up.

Tony looked out through the back windshield. "Not mine and no one I recognize. I need to call Happy." He put his phone to his ear. Fisk turned his attention to Peter with an amused smile.

"It's almost a shame. Your man is skilled enough to run the whole city if he wanted to."

"What about you, sir?" Peter asked.

Fisk laughed. "Not these days. I'm showing signs of wear. My weakness has already been exploited and I've been slowly cracking ever since." He pressed a hand to his heart in a seemingly unconscious movement.

"I'm sorry about your wife, sir."

He smiled softly. "Vanessa will always be my heart. The only part of me that was ever any good. You would think I would have killed her for it. I never have appreciated goodness." He huffed a laugh. "I threatened to every now and then and she'd just give me this look. Stern, unafraid. And you would think that would have pissed me off, but never when it was her."

Wilson reached under his shirt and pulled out a small ring on a chain. The band was plain with one large diamond in the center. "This was her mother's. Vanessa killed her and took it off her finger. And she proposed to me with it. And of course I was bewildered and amazed by her. Blood still on the band. I put it on her finger and promised I would marry her when the time was right. Took another three years for me to give in, but she never asked again. She just waited. I supposed she knew she had my heart no matter how hard I tried to break hers."

He glanced at Tony, shouting on the phone with Happy, ignoring them both. "He's not so different. Afraid to have the things, the one, that makes him happy. Because something will always come along and threaten to take it from you. And like me, losing that person will destroy him. If you love him and you want to protect him, you'll do whatever it takes to protect yourself first.

"Vanessa," he sighed. "I failed her. I never liked the idea of a woman fighting, holding a gun. Oh, she was a killer. Real blood thirsty, no different from me, but I pushed her away from getting her hands dirty. Never be afraid to pick up a gun. But of course I hear that you don't hesitate to put a hole in a man. That's good. Don't make the mistake of hesitation."

They were quiet for a moment. "Why does there have to be five bosses? Couldn't you and Tony do it alone?"

Wilson laughed. "Eager to get rid of the others? That's smart, considering they don't like you. No, New York is a big city. It takes a lot of money and a lot of elbow grease to keep what we have from being damaged by police and politicians. Plenty of them don't like me or Tony."

"Is that why you picked Harry? He has connections with those kinds of people."

Wilson nodded. "Norman had a great deal of political friends who kept the secrets of his company quiet. They'll do the same for Harry or else I'll assist him in applying the right pressure."

Tony got off the phone. He slid it into his pocket. Peter caught his hand and tangled their fingers together. It was so natural that Tony hardly seemed to notice.

"My men are clearing the building. They'll grab anyone they find." He looked Peter over, dusting off his shoulders with his free hand.

"I'm sure the perpetrators are long gone," Wilson said. "Or long dead. Do you believe this was that Tiburones boy?"

"Most likely." Tony tisked, likely finding dirt or possibly blood on his coat. Peter knew it would be replaced by morning.

Wilson nodded. "Then I ought to assume he's brave enough to push himself into my territory. I'll have the boys on high alert, but Tony, if any of his men appear on my streets they will be killed on sight. I won't take prisoners for you."

"Noted." How disappointed they would both be if Wilson got to the guy first.

[florenceandthemachine]

(my @911giftexchange contribution for @brcttshvghes!!) Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Howie "Chimney" Han, Bobby Nash, Athena Grant Additional Tags: First Kiss, Christmas, Secret Santa, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining

Last Christmas, Eddie had—as Hen would put it—his ‘oh’ moment.

No, it wasn’t when Buck had thrown himself into action to help some random dad see his daughter sing for Christmas.

No, it wasn’t when Eddie caught Buck trying to sneak extra presents (for he and Christopher both) under the Diaz tree.

No, it wasn’t even when some random elf had complimented Buck on his “beautiful family”.

Eddie’s ‘oh’ moment came when Athena announced that she was saving them all from themselves, when he walked into the firehouse loft and saw his kid standing there, beaming like a megawatt spotlight, smiling not only up at his dad but at Buck; and suddenly things clicked into place. Buck had set all of this up, and sure, it was for the whole house... but it was also for him. Buck had done this all, for him. He had Chris in his arms, he had Buck by his side, and Eddie realized—not for the first time, but for the first time with this level of severity—that this was exactly what he wanted, for the rest of his life.

Forever.

Hence the ‘oh’ moment.

(Hen had suggested calling it his ‘no fucking shit, you clueless moron’ moment instead. Eddie had politely declined.)

--

The ‘oh’ moment was one thing. The ‘oh’ moment was great.

Afterward, though, afterward everything was kind of sucky.

Valentine’s Day was rough. Watching Athena lock up a newlywed couple together, that was fun, sure, but seeing Buck with Ali? That was... literal torture.

--

The tsunami sucked. The bomb sucked.

The lawsuit, that really fucking sucked.

But pulling Buck into his arms underneath some shitty Halloween decorations, being back together again, that... that was almost worth it.

Even if he had to watch Buck bat his eyes at Taylor Kelly a few days later.

--

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Hen had asked the next month, sprawled out over the couch in the loft, idly kicking Eddie’s thigh as he groaned, full of Bobby’s turkey and homemade cranberry sauce.

“And risk it all?” Eddie had asked, long since beyond the point where he wanted to even pretend that he didn’t know what Hen was talking about.

And when Abby reappeared in Buck’s life with a fiancée and two stepchildren, Eddie knew staying quiet was the right idea. He wouldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk it.

--

“Hey, Eds, hand me another nail?”

So now here he was, almost a year later (“A full year of pining, Eddie, seriously, if you don’t say something by New Year’s—“ “I hate you, Hen.”), staring at Buck’s ass as he struggled to hang another loop of garland haphazardly throughout the station.

After a moment of hesitation, he did as he was asked, sighing as he held up another couple of tacks that Buck could push into the wall. “Why are you even doing all of this, Buck? I don’t know if you noticed, but the station was already decorated.” Eddie said with a hum, leaning back against the wall as he looked up to Buck, not-so-subtly admiring the way Buck’s entire body reacted as he laughed.

“Please, it looked like Pottery Barn threw up in here. We needed something other than stark white garland and red ornaments, Eds.” Buck descended down the step ladder and stepped back to admire his handiwork as Eddie looked around the station—as much as he hated to admit it, Buck was absolutely right. The station had been decorated by what looked like the night crew after one too many cups of coffee; too clean, too pristine, all glittering white garland neatly tacked up to every corner with a giant red bauble tacked at every intersection.

Needless to say, once Buck had gotten through with things, it was... definitely far from a professional looking decor job. Buck had rigged up huge wreaths made of fake garland and bows made out of giant, floppy, silver and gold ribbon, and hung them all over the station.

He had all but stapled his hand to the wall hanging up Christmas lights—the old, slowly blinking type, on the thick green cord, the type where if one light went out they all went out. There were twinkling, colorful lights all over the walls, mounds of fake snow around the staircase, big, fake poinsettias all over the kitchen.

At some point in time, while Hen and Chim were passing time upstairs in the loft and Bobby was stuck in his office doing paperwork, Buck had even rigged up his iPhone to play Christmas carols over the entirety of the station PA system (“Don’t worry, Eddie, calls will still come through and cut out over the alarm,” Buck had assured him, and Eddie was struck, not for the first time, with pride as he realized how much planning Buck really put into things like this).

The station was a mess, honestly. It was a jumbled, disorganized, chaotic explosion of Christmas. The station had gone from Pottery Barn to looking like a Yuletide grenade had gone off.

Eddie loved it.

“There! All finished. Back up, Eddie, I’m coming down.” Eddie blinked as he was jerked back into the present, standing back to admire the latest (and apparently the last) wreath that Buck had woven on the wall, acutely aware of the closeness that he and Buck shared as Buck beamed up at his handiwork.

He managed to look away from Buck’s smile—glowing didn’t even begin to cover it—right as Buck turned to look at him, clearing his throat. “Alright, Buck, what gives? Not that I’m mad about the extra decor you’ve doused the place with, but this is even bigger than what we did last year. There another surprise party that I’m supposed to be aware of?” Eddie asked, smiling as Buck threw his head back and laughed.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Buck started, looking over his shoulder as he folded up the ladder, heading back through the gym to the utility closet. “We’re still on for Christmas dinner at the station with everyone’s family, and unless Hen or Bobby has something else planned—because let’s face it, Chim would forget it was Christmas all in all if Maddie didn’t remind him—that’s all that we’re doing as a station. I just figured we needed as much holly-jolly as we could this year.”

His words were innocent enough, but Eddie had known Buck for years now, and the last year had been spent watching Buck a little more… closely than usual. So he knew that Buck’s innocent smile was just a shade on the wrong side of sneaky, how his words were carefully chosen so he wouldn’t be technically lying. Buck was smart—seriously, Eddie didn’t understand how people always forgot that—and they were the kind of things that Eddie would have missed if he wasn’t so… invested.

Sure. Invested. That was the right way to think about it.

“Hey, Eds,” and damn, a nickname shouldn’t bring him that much joy, “can you open the closet up for me?” Buck asked, the smile on his face seemingly innocent as Eddie rose a brow, stepping around him and just taking the ladder from his hands, pushing the door open behind him, not missing the look of surprise on Buck’s face.

“Wait, Eddie—no, I can—“

“Buck, it’s a step ladder, it’s no big deal. Did you take anything else out of the closet, or was it just this?”

“Well no, but it’s just that—“

Before Buck could continue his protest, the Christmas carols died out throughout the station, the siren blaring in its place, and for a split second, Buck looked absolutely crushed, which was weirder than anything else Eddie had witnessed that morning, because Buck loved going out on calls.

The moment was gone in a heartbeat, but it still made Eddie’s mind reel as they darted off to their lockers to suit up, mind racing with questions as Buck was all laughs with Hen as Chim got behind the wheel.

Something was up, and Eddie was going to find out what… even if the day had other plans.

--

There were two ways that shifts around the holidays were destined to go. Either the 118 would be dead quiet, or the crew would be completely dead on their feet.

Unfortunately, today seemed like it would be the latter.

No sooner than they had been cleared from their first call of the day did another roll in, and then another, and then another, to the point where the only time that Eddie had to text his kid was between calls, and the 118 was probably trapped in their turnout gear for a good five hours without a single break.

Buck, to the surprise of absolutely no one, only grew more and more alive with every save—he had an absolute knack for riding the rush that came with the job, and by the time they finally pulled back into the 118, Buck and Eddie couldn’t have been in a more different place in their lives.

“Alright, six calls in five hours. I think I’ve earned a fucking nap.” Eddie grumbled as he slid out of his designated spot next to Buck in the ladder truck, barely even waiting to get to the rack on the wall before he started pulling his turnout gear off, impatiently tugging at his sleeves and kicking his boots off before he bothered to even loosen anything.

While the sound of Buck’s laugh behind him certainly raised his spirit, he still pouted as Buck sauntered up beside him, easily removing his own jacket and boots and hanging them up with a certain sense of maturity that Eddie couldn’t muster at the moment. “Come on Eddie, a nap? Did you turn fifty while I wasn’t looking?” Buck asked, the teasing tone of his voice bringing a smile to Eddie’s face as he shoved Buck’s shoulder playfully.

“Just because you can keep up with Chris’ special blend of all night holiday nonsense doesn’t mean we all can, Buck.” Eddie started, rolling his shoulder as he hung his turnout coat back up. “Right now, he’s probably running Carla through literally every last strip mall in the state, trying to find a perfect present for our Buck, and… uh.” Eddie cut himself off, far too late, cheeks pinking up as he clamped his jaw shut.

He feared the worst for a moment when Buck looked at him with stars in his eyes, thinking that his slip hadn’t gone unnoticed, and he had to work to hide his sigh of relief when Buck grinned. “He’s getting me a gift? I mean, I know he doesn’t have to, and you know he doesn’t have to, but… fuck, Eds, I’m all excited now. Okay. Forget it. Anyway, come on. I want to completely obliterate you in Mario Kart.”

Eddie sighed softly, his smile big and dopey on his face as Buck got himself all excited, shaking his head as he kicked off his boots, finally leaving his gear behind. “Buck, if you think I’m going to add insult to injury and let you completely wipe the floor with me, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Fine, then you don’t have to play. You can just hang around and bask in my awesome.” Buck said, his effort at being nonchalant almost going over Eddie’s head, just barely catching the sidelong glance that Buck shot him while he was re-lacing his work boots.

He narrowed his eyes for a moment as he watched Buck’s shoulders tighten, sighing as he shook his head. “Fine, but you better fucking dazzle me, Buckley.” he said as he started walking to the tiny corner of the bay they had set up as a miniature rec area (a fancy word for three couches and a big-ass television, courtesy of Chim’s baby brother), but not before he saw the abject joy that bloomed over Buck’s face.

As much as he wanted to believe that that much joy could simply come from Buck getting to spend time on a couch with Eddie, he had a sneaking suspicion, much as he did earlier, that something else was up.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll learn something by osmosis, and actually stand a chance against your kid the next time he—“

Buck was cut off by a bang as the firehouse door hit the wall, a panicked cry pulling Buck and Eddie’s attention as they both automatically started to move.

“Help! Please, please I need help, I don’t think she’s breathing!”

Eddie and Buck were both immediately moving, Chim and Bobby close on their trail as they came down the stairs from the loft, Hen already opening the back of the ambulance and yanking out one of her bags.

Eddie slowed himself down as he reached forward to take the body of a young girl from her clearly distraught mother, Buck already a step ahead of him as he put a braceboard down on the ground, placing her too-small body down on it.

(Eddie still hated situations that involved kids.)

The little girl was conscious, but only barely, wheezing along as Eddie laid her down, taking her pulse instinctively as he gave her a simple once over. “Signs of angioedema, breathing is shallow, pupils are tight, plenty of hives across the neck and chest. Ma’am, does she have any allergies, any—”

“No! I mean, I don’t think so, we tried a new recipe for our christmas cookies this year… uh, almond, maybe? I don’t know!”

“Okay, we’re gonna give her some epinephrine, you need to look into an epi-pen, Buck?”

Buck nodded, grabbing a pen from the ambulance, pressing it against the thickest part of her thigh (she was so tiny, Jesus) and plunging the needle into her skin. “Alright, now, we’re going to take her to the hospital, so hop in the ambulance—” Bobby started, nodding to the vehicle as Hen and Chim jumped into the drivers cab, “—and you can ride with or follow along, whatever you want.”

Eddie and Buck had the gurney popped up in a heartbeat, wheeling it in the back of the rig as mother and daughter were loaded up, doors slamming behind the pair of them as Hen practically burned rubber.

Eddie felt his heart rate start to slow back down to a regular, human level as the ambulance tore out of the bay, and even he couldn’t keep the small smile on his face as he turned back to Buck, expecting the expression to be mirrored on his partner’s face.

So, you could imagine his surprise when Buck just looked… tired.

“Buck? You good? You still wanna get a round of the… uh… whatever?”

He rose a brow as Buck hitched his smile back on, giving a half shrug as he shook his head. “Nah, Eddie, it’s good. I’m gonna get started on Bobby’s chore list.”

With that, he started up the stairs to the kitchen, and Eddie was left in the metaphorical dust, staring up to Buck’s retreating backside as he was left alone on the main floor of the 118.

The fuck was going on?

--

buck fifty: why do i have to clean the kitchen if bobby and athena are just going to be cooking in an hour anyway

sent: Because, Buck, normal people clean the areas where they’re going to be preparing food.

buck fifty: miss me with that logic i havent had food poisoning in weeks dont @ me bro

Eddie let out a breathy bark of a laugh as he pushed up on the leg press again, his back drenched in sweat as he read over Buck’s reply. As much as he hated doing anything even remotely close to leg day, he figured that now was the time to work it out—a workout did better than a nap to help him wind down from back-to-back calls (and a near poisoning, Hen and Chim weren’t even back from the hospital yet), but it was a great way to keep his hands free so he could text Buck.

It was kind of sad, honestly, how many decisions that he made in his day to day life that were focused on Buck.

Today, though, the mission was a little more ‘what the fuck is up with Buck’ than it was anything else—Buck was a weird dude, sure, but he was acting jumpy and weird all fucking day today. Even in the moments when they were out on call, and Buck was in the zone, he still felt a little… off.

It was like there was a fucking satellite delay between them, and there had been all day. Eddie usually prided himself on being able to read a room, but today, it was like Buck was intentionally throwing walls his way.

Not that he was that attuned to Buck’s everyday emotions and mood, anyway. Nope. Definitely not.

…

fuck.

sent: Why don’t you come down here and do a few reps with me? Burn off some of that energy.

sent: Oh, wait, that isn’t an option for you yet. How sad.

buck fifty: look its not my fault that you happened to finish your chores earlier and i didnt

sent: …Buck, that is 100% your own fault. Are you good today? You’re weirding me out.

“Hello, 118! Did someone order a chef?” Eddie looked up as he heard Athena’s voice echo throughout the station, a smile on his face as he waved over to her. He loved the way that she had fit together with the station so well, and how she and Bobby got along as well as they did (even if he felt like he had to pay for it whenever Hen shot him a knowing look, less and less subtle with each passing day… okay, month), but he loved even more that she usually brought food, especially now, in what Eddie sincerely hoped would be a new tradition — Christmas dinner with his work family.

Make no mistake, Bobby’s cooking was phenomenal, but there was something about Athena’s family style everything that settled right in Eddie’s soul.

Maybe it was because she had the uncanny knack at seeing through his bullshit and calling him on anything and everything that he tried to pull when she was around, in a way that was both kind and hilariously firm.

Or maybe it was because she actually understood how to make a decent tex-mex meal.

Either way.

“Eddie, where’s our boys?”

Eddie looked up as Athena closed the distance to his machine in the gym, smiling as he did another rep. “Hey Athena. Buck’s cleaning up the kitchen, getting ready for you and Bobby.” he said easily, his legs giving a little wobble as he realized what he had said, eyes snapping to her easily. “Uh, I mean—“

“Diaz, please, we both know that was who I was talking about.” Athena said, cutting him off before he could answer, the knowing smile on her face making Eddie wish the ground would open him up and swallow him whole, but apparently LA was fresh out of earthquakes for the moment. Thankfully, Athena took some pity on him, keeping the conversation moving easily as she looked around the station. “I see he got a hold of the decorations. Good, the place looked too… clean before.” she said, and Eddie laughed even as his face flushed red, swinging his legs off the machine, the familiar burn in his thighs anchoring him in the moment. “Yeah, it really did. Buck said it looked like a Pottery Barn threw up.”

Eddie shook his head as Athena laughed, that same smile on her face again, but it was different now—easy, familiar, like she was seeing the answer to a puzzle that Eddie only had half the pieces to. “He’s a good man, Eddie. Both of you are. It’s just such a shame neither of you would know what healthy communication was if it bit you in the ass.” She said, shaking her head dramatically as she started up the stairs, leaving a completely baffled Eddie to grab his phone off of the machine as it buzzed again.

What the hell was she talking about? He and Buck communicated all the time.

buck fifty: ok now you have to help me

buck fifty: if athena and bobby are going to be in the kitchen together im going to wind up drowning in mushy

sent: How is that my problem? And don’t think you got by avoiding my other question.

buck fifty: eddie plz

sent: Use your words, Buck.

buck fifty: u gotta get up here and save me

sent: Have you cleaned out the oven yet?

buck fifty: ………

buck fifty: save me by helping me clean the oven

Okay, Eddie may have already lost the fight, but—

buck fifty: pleeeeeeeeeease

—but that didn’t mean he had to admit how wrapped around Buck’s pinky he was. He could still whine about it, he could still complain about it, he could still bring this up the next time he and Buck argued about who’s turn it was to go and answer the door when they ordered takeout. Cleaning the oven, that was absolutely something he could hold over Buck forever.

He made a quick detour to the locker room to change out of his gym clothes as he heard Athena greet the boys upstairs, his own smile begrudgingly pasted on as he remembered what Athena had said.

His boy. She had called Buck his boy.

It was… well, it was nice to dream.

He was basically floating on air as he made his way up the stairs, to the point where he almost walked straight until Bobby’s chest from where he stood at the top of the stairs. He let out a very masculine noise as he jumped back, nearly dropping his phone as Bobby clucked his tongue.

“Nope, Eddie, you know the rules. You and your black thumb need to stay far from the kitchen while we’re cooking.”

Eddie tried to sputter out a protest even as Athena laughed from her position near the fridge, unloading what looked like an actual mountain of groceries. “Come on Bobby, I’m sure he can’t be that bad—“

“He’s burned pasta, Athena.”

“That was one time!”

Eddie felt his face heat up as Buck immediately came to his defense, equal parts pleased and perturbed, as Bobby shook his head. “Not taking that chance, kid. Especially not while Athena is armed with two whole hams. Come on, go downstairs, shower up, and then we can find a way for you to help get ready for dinner that keeps you far away from the kitchen.”

“Cmon, Bobby—“

“Buck, you can clean the oven on your own. Now let’s go, we all got work to do.”

Eddie felt his mouth snap shut as Bobby dismissed him—not unkindly, nothing that Eddie hadn’t heard before, but the way that Buck was looking over at them was nothing short of tragic. He hadn’t seen Buck look that defeated since their run in at the grocery store in the midst of the lawsuit-that-they-didn’t-talk-about-seriously-Buck-we-both-apologized-it’s-fine.

Eddie’s brain continued to churn as he showered, nearly drowning himself beneath the scalding hot water as he tried to understand what the fuck was going on.

Buck had been acting weird. Which, honestly, wasn’t that unusual for Buck. Buck was a good man. He had his heart on his sleeve, like, constantly. He was happy when he was happy, he was sad when he was sad, and there was no hiding it when he was down.

And now, somehow, Eddie was bringing him down.

Or… when Eddie really thought about it, the lack of Eddie was bringing him down…

Eddie didn’t get to spend time with Buck, and Buck looked like someone had just stamped out his dreams.

And that… that was interesting.

The last piece of the puzzle finally sank into place as he toweled off his hair and stepped out of the locker room, right in time to hear Athena’s laugh ring through the station. He looked up to the loft in time to see Bobby dipping her into a kiss, but that wasn’t where his eyes focused—no, they were instead focusing on something red and green. Something red and green and small and something that was definitely not there before Buck started his redecorations this morning, hanging in front of the oven.

The oven that he was supposed to help Buck clean.

Eddie felt his eyes narrow as he looked around the station, trying to retrace his steps throughout the station from the moment he walked in that morning. The utility closet… the recreation area… and back to the kitchen again.

He felt a small smile, in spite of himself, spread across his face, something dangerously close to hope blooming in his chest. Fate seemed to smile on him as Hen and Chim pulled back into the firehouse bay, and he took the opportunity to smack Hen’s arm as she walked past him.

“Ow, Eddie, what the f—“

“I’m gonna risk it, Hen.” Eddie said, effectively cutting her off, knowing that she would pick up on what he meant immediately. “But I need some help. You got a minute?”

--

“Buckaroo, will you take these plates down to the table? Here, bring Eddie some silverware.”

“Yeah, no problem Chim.”

Eddie elbowed Hen away from him as Buck started down the stairs, trying his best to act like he was doing anything but listening up the stairs. He and Hen had been busy setting up the table (and a few other things) while Chim was assigned on running interference upstairs, which turned out to be the easiest job of all while Buck… well, while Buck moped.

Eddie hated Buck moping. Almost as much as he hated how cute he thought it was, now that he knew what Buck was up to.

Or, at least, he thought he knew what Buck was up to. He was still painfully aware of how wrong this could all go—maybe it was the magic of the season, maybe it was a year in the making, maybe it was Hen egging him on, but Eddie…

Eddie actually felt like he could do this.

Even if it meant that he had to play completely oblivious in the meantime.

“Alright, Buck,” Eddie started, taking the stack of plates out of Buck’s hand, somehow fighting the smile as Buck handed them over, “what’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

Buck grumbled as he tugged at the corner of the table cloth, straightening out a few placemats as he shrugged. “Nothing, Eds, I’m fine. Just a weird day, I guess. Dinner should be good, though!” Buck said, hiking a smile up onto his face. Eddie did his best to hide a little laugh as he nodded to Hen, who had slipped into the cab of the ladder truck.

“Buck, come on. I’ve known you for years, you’re not fine. Weird, yes. Fine, no.”

Buck stuck out his tongue as he started to dole out forks and knives, the little lighthearted gesture doing something to ease the worry that Eddie felt at the base of his spine, but he could still see the tension coiled through his best friends shoulders.

“Seriously, Buck, I—“

“It’s fine, Eddie! I just…” Buck’s shoulder slumped as he started to deflate, the harsh tone of his voice giving way as his face flushed. Setting the last fork down, he started to pace in earnest, speaking with his hands as much as he was with his voice. “I just had a certain thought about how things might go this year, and fate, or destiny, or whatever, has made it very clear that’s not going to be how it goes. I dunno, I thought I could make things… different, or special or whatever?” he started, and Eddie seriously had to swallow the words that were threatening to spill over his lips.

Buck wanted to make things special. Buck wanted to make things special. For him. Like Buck didn’t do that kind of thing every day simply by existing.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter, you don’t have to worry about it.” Buck sighed as he put the last fork down and started pacing at the head of the table, and Eddie had to make sure his voice wasn’t going to waver when he spoke again.

“It still can be special, Buck—“

“Eds, it’s whatever. It was stupid anyway.”

“Buck.”

“No, Eddie, it’s okay, I shouldn’t have—“

“Buck. Stop. Breathe.”

Eddie grabbed both of Buck’s shoulders to stop him from pacing, raising his eyebrows as Buck finally made eye contact with him.

“Are you breathing? Okay. Great. Good. Now look up.”

“Eds, what are you talking about?”

“Buck, for the love of God, listen to me for once in your life and just look up.”

Eddie took a moment to savor the complete confusion written on Buck’s face as he finally comprehended what Eddie was asking (with a murmured complaint of “I always listen to you”), and Eddie let his eyes lock on to Buck’s face. Mostly because he wanted to see Buck’s reaction, but partially because he was afraid of what said reaction would be. Even if Buck was seeing the mistletoe above them for the first time, that Eddie had painstakingly tied to the top rung of the ladder that Hen had extended over the table from the truck, this was the moment of truth—and Eddie already knew what was up there.

Besides, Buck was a much better view than some green garnish.

“That’s, uhm.” Buck started, and Eddie finally gave up trying to keep the smile off his face. “That’s mistletoe.”

Eddie hummed thoughtfully as Buck looked back to him, “It is. I pulled some from the kitchen, found a sprig near the rec room, one from the utility closet…”

Buck actually had the decency to look surprised as he looked back to Eddie, literal stars in his eyes. “And you… put them together. And tied them to the ladder, and… got me to stand under it with you.” Buck continued, slowly, and Eddie gave a little chuckle as he nodded his head, taking a step closer. “I did. I mean, unless I’m misreading this entire situation, in which case I have no idea what you’re talking about, and if that’s the case, I’m going to go dig a hole out back and throw myself—mmhph.”

Eddie was more thankful than anything when Buck took the step forward to close the distance between them before he could start rambling, one hand on Eddie’s jaw to tilt it up (god he loved that Buck was taller than he was), the other warm and heavy on his hip (god, he loved Buck’s strong hands), lips slotting together with an ease that Eddie had never experienced with a first kiss before (god, he loved kissing Buck).

He also loved Hen and Chim, because no sooner did Chim hit the switch near the bay doors to dim the lights around the ladder truck did Hen manage to restart Buck’s Christmas playlist, Irving Berlin’s voice crooning about a white Christmas over the station speakers as Eddie’s arms wrapped around Buck’s neck.

When they finally pulled back to breathe, Eddie found himself tiptoeing up to chase Buck’s lips, his face flushing bright red afterward when he realized what he had done. They both started laughing as Buck’s hands dropped down to Eddie’s waist, Eddie following suit and letting his hands rest on Buck’s shoulders, fitting together in a way that Eddie had only imagined.

“So… I guess the mistletoe worked out for you in the end.” Eddie said with a smile, and Buck laughed, shaking his head, that beautiful ruddy color staining his cheeks again. “Eds, I, uh… I’ve kind of been working up the courage to do something like this for weeks.” He said sheepishly, and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, smacking Buck’s shoulder.

“Weeks? To think, you still had months to go before you were anywhere close to my level.” Eddie said as he pulled away, sighing as he smoothed over Buck’s collar, a smile on his face as he turned and left a stunned Buck in his wake.

“Wait, Eddie, what?”

Eddie shook his head as he walked back into the locker room, Buck following suit shortly after.

“Eds, no, wait! How long did I pine without needing to?? Eddie!!”

[lovelyirony]

76 for winteriron or 94 for rhodeytony?? ily and your work ma’am your vibes are immaculate -ambivalentmarvel

thank you! and reminder: please send in the full prompt! 

76.) “If you lay a finger on him, I’ll kill everyone in this room.” 

Tony Stark was not supposed to be a detective. He was not supposed to be a lot of things. But when his father had told him at age seven that all he’d ever be was a disappointment, he decided he might as well do whatever the hell he wanted with his life. 

So. A detective. That had gone over well with his college advisor. 

“Aren’t you...aren’t you Howard’s son?” He had said nervously, readjusting his glasses for about the eighth time in seven minutes. 

“Yes, but I also have a mother. And my mother is very keen on my having some skills of my own. Between you and I, we all know my father is going to hand it over to his business partner.” 

(This all is a very direct lie. His mother could not honestly care less what he does with his life as long as he never looks her in the eye and tells her that boxed wine is good. He’s not going to look her in the eye for quite some time.) 

Being a detective isn’t all film noir and extravagant lifestyle. Sure he gets paid the big bucks. He blends into high society well but is just unknowable enough to put on an old pair of jeans and slink into a coffee shop under the guise of being another guy on his laptop. That’s a skill few possess. 

There’s also the tiny, teensy little detail that he’s one of the only detectives to risk secret-agency-detection because in all honesty the security systems were built by Stark Industries and Howard wasn’t exactly what anyone would call “stellar” at security measures. 

Tony, however, was. 

(Did some side work for SI, you know the drill. Sure his father wasn’t exactly thrilled, but it’s not like there was the PR nightmare of Stark Sr. not being as smart in his old age as people always expected.) 

So when he gets an offer for finding and capturing the Winter Soldier from someone named Natalie? 

Well, he asks if he gets to use his frequent flier miles and packs a bag for DC. 

The Winter Soldier is regarded as a conspiracy theory. A man who is all machine, does the dirty work for an undercover organization, and has a shiny arm that can do a lot of things that Tony dreams about at night. 

He likes conspiracy theories. Enjoys the hell out of solving them. (Roswell was a particularly fun one to crack.) 

So he starts with research. 

There is one thing to be said about the Winter Soldier: 

He’s notoriously bad at hiding his tracks beyond the usual security measures. Restricting camera access, destroying tapes, passing off a flimsy excuse as to why a politician, peacemaker, or civilian that was causing a little too much trouble was suddenly found dead, the coronary reports restricted on a need-to-know basis. 

Don’t make him laugh. 

People talk. They always do, doesn’t matter if it’s been a year or thirty. 

The coroners, the police, the people that surrounded the target. They all nervously whisper about suspecting someone else. 

He gets closer to the location. He can tell by the thrum he holds in himself now, the way sleep doesn’t come as easily. (Although he still gets it. You don’t buy 400 thread count for nothing.) 

Hydra is still in business. Of course it is. 

He pays SHIELD a little visit. 

That organization is about the worst-kept secret in the world. He dresses up in a smart suit, ridiculous glasses, and pastes a cheesy grin on his face. 

He’s in an interview for tech. Gets lost on his way there. The person conducting the interviews has them booked back to back. When a “Mr. Edward Jarvis” does not show up for the interview, the next candidate will come in. 

Of course, he looks like any other employee scurrying around with stacks in his arms. Face is obscured by cameras. He’s bypassed Stark Industries’ security features, and he gets to the file room. 

Holy shit. It’s bad. 

After spending at least two minutes thinking he would die from coughing from all the dust. 

They don’t organize anything. All of the paper files, it seems, have been abandoned as soon as the digitized platform came out. (Which makes sense.) 

He finds the file box on Winter Soldier. Everything, suspiciously, is blacked out. But he finds one name: Alexander Pierce. 

For a man who is about to overtake SHIELD and ruin the entire world, you think he’d have a less consistent schedule. Or that his house would be harder to get into. 

Moral of the story: you can break into the window in an attic. 

Tony is making coffee. 

Pierce stops in his tracks. 

“Who the hell are you?” 

“Why do you have Folgers? You live in a nice neighborhood. You live like this?” Tony asks. He takes a swig of coffee, winces. “God I haven’t had stuff this bad since I was in college. Ew.” 

“If you’re here to kill me, you’ve got yourself in a bigger mess than you know.” 

“No, I don’t think I am,” Tony answers. “Because you? You’re stuck here. With me. You can try to run but to be completely frank, your joint medication by the paper towels speak to your ability to outrun me. There’s also the little fact that I’m not here for the typical reason.” 

“So what, you’re not an enemy of SHIELD?” Pierce asks. 

“Of course I’m not,” Tony says, smiling. “Even like a couple of their agents. But you’re not exactly SHIELD, are you? Some PR talked about one head cut off, two more grow back. I’m not exactly sure if you know how human anatomy works, but...” 

Pierce grins. 

“Oh, then you know about our little project.” 

“Of course I do,” Tony says. “Not so little, though. Didn’t get him operational until 1954? What was that, your birth year? Can’t imagine he’s perfect.” 

His smile thins. 

“It’s taken trial and test runs. But he’s perfect now.” 

“Ah, there’s the problem,” Tony says. “Because he probably broke a lot of people, didn’t he Pierce? Probably threw at least one person. I saw the specs for the arm. A lot of power behind that.” 

“And how would you know about the arm?” Pierce asked. “We don’t keep blueprints.” 

“You don’t,” Tony says slowly. “But the creator does. And you should’ve looked a lot carefully at who was behind your little experimental arm, Pierce. You shouldn’t trust a Stark to stay in a lane.” 

His eyes widen. 

Tony loves theatrics. He also likes that he was the one who technically found out about the little quirk. 

“So here’s what you didn’t know,” Tony continues. “Our hypothetical technological inventions have a tracking component on them, just in case we cannot find them in our inventory or database. And even though your scientists did an excellent job at hiding the box and filling it with a truly terrible amount of cookbooks, they did not know about that little feature.” 

Tony pulls out his phone. 

“Your Soldier is in...wow, you’re keeping him local? Pierce, I expected more from you.” 

“What do you want.” 

“I want him,” Tony says. “And I’ll leave you alone.” 

“Absolutely not,” Pierce seethes. “Why would we give you the star of the show?” 

“Because,” Tony says. “Your show sucks, if I’m being completely honest. One branch of Hydra is completely dedicated to the idea of Inhumans and is batshit insane. Another branch is literally only focused on weapons, and another is about this. It’s a shit-show. If there was a show about this I would not give it anything past three seasons.” 

Alexander Pierce looks like he’s going to burst a vein. 

Tony moves on. 

“Along with that if I cannot get him from you, I will be getting him. And if you touch a hair on his head, I will kill you.” 

Alexander Pierce looks mad. Which of course he does. Tony tends to have that effect on people, Rhodey says so. 

“Do you think you can even get out of my house? You think I won’t know your face, know that Tony Stark threatened me? Will anyone even believe you?” 

“Aw Andy, you say the sweetest things,” Tony says smiling. “I told you I was a Stark for two reasons. I’ve already told you the first one, let’s see when you wake up if you can guess the second.” 

“What--” 

And...man down. 

And Pepper told him a taser-pen was “hopefully frivolous” and “why the fuck would you ever make that for a pen you barely you know which coffee cup is yours and you just drink from both.” 

Pierce is left tied up in his kitchen on the floor, Tony admires the window seat for a brief moment, and leaves the files incriminating Pierce along with about sixty to a hundred other people. 

He has a taxi to catch. 

- 

“You know he will probably kill you,” Rhodey says on the phone. “And then I get to give my eulogy and I’m going to tell everyone you secretly liked cheese pizza only.” 

“I will literally commit a war crime against you,” Tony says. “Not even joking. I’ll face Congress if I have to.” 

Rhodey rolls his eyes. 

“You can’t, they’d kick you out.” 

“Oh, just for wearing a ripped up crop top and jean shorts? What, would I be a menace to society?” 

“You’re always a menace,” Rhodey mutters. “Listen, I gotta go. Pepper’s freaking out about your advertisements in the newspaper and the correct grammar.” 

“Bye!” Tony says. 

DC is definitely not Tony’s style. At least, for now. He can’t even enjoy coffee, he has to foil an assassination plot. 

Winter Soldier is not subtle, as he’s said. Neither are the Hydra agents who are just painfully obvious. 

At least this might be done by dinner.

He also faces the Winter Soldier. That’s fun. It’s too early to really be anything but fun. 

He walks right up to him. 

“Do you know someone named Natalie?” Tony asks. 

“What?” Winter Soldier asks. “No. Move or I’ll move you.” 

“Very robotic, ugh,” Tony says, smiling. “No, I have a job to do. You’re not moving me.” 

Winter Soldier lunges. 

Tony sidesteps and throws him off his balance with a cafe chair. 

Their fight takes them to a bridge. 

“You’ve compromised the mission,” Winter Soldier hisses. “Why?” 

“Because I got hired to bring you back,” Tony says. 

“To Hydra?” 

“No,” Tony says. “God no, they’re terrible. No, someone named Natalie wants you rescued.” 

“Natalia,” Winter Soldier murmurs. “How do you know her?” 

“I don’t,” Tony says. “At least, far as I know. I was asked to find you and bring you to her and whoever else is there. So, are you in?” 

He pauses, looks out at the city. 

“How are you gonna get me out of here?” 

“You underestimate the power of tourism,” Tony says. “Let’s go.” 

One “I Visited the Washington” sweatshirt and long hair wrapped into a bun later, Tony is walking out with who appears to be Bucky Barnes. 

“Of course you are,” Tony mutters. “Okay, let’s get to the meeting point.” 

“Are you staying?” Barnes asks. 

Tony cocks his head. “What do you want me for?”

“You just helped me escape from Hydra. You’re most likely near-suicidal. I think you need to stay close.” 

Tony rolls his eyes good-naturedly. 

“I’m not near-suicidal. Of course I’m not. I stick around for a really nice pizza joint. But Natalie--or Natalia, you called her that right?” 

“Natalie’s a fake name.” 

“Of course it is, who names their kid Natalie anymore?” Tony quips. “But besides the point. She probably can do you more good than I can. After all, I don’t ever drink out of the right coffee cup. I am very, insanely doubtful that I am of any help whatsoever.” 

“Fine then,” Barnes says. “I’ll keep an eye on you.” 

“I’m sure you will.” 

Tony doubts this. 

But he drives him to where whoever the hell hired him lives. It’s a nice, upscale apartment. Probably costs about as much as his whole apartment building’s rent in total. 

Of course, the woman who greets them looks gorgeous. Barnes knows her easily enough. 

“Thank you, Stark,” the woman says. 

“What do I actually call you?” Tony asks. “You know my name, I know two of yours.” 

“Call me Natasha,” she says. “And anything else isn’t your business.” 

“Of course not, I would expect a check in the mail otherwise,’ Tony remarks. “So. Barnes is delivered back to you. Expect payment tonight or tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow at twelve,” she answers. “Afternoon.” 

“See you around,” Tony says, waving. “Barnes, try not to kill anyone right now. Seriously gonna ruin the springtime mood, you know?” 

Bucky Barnes stares after him. 

Natasha smiles. 

“Welcome back, James.” 

He nods. Goes and sits in a chair. 

“You gonna turn my brain back to mush or let me stay?” 

“Stay,” Natasha answers. “I escaped Red Room. I knew I needed to get you.” 

“And why not do it yourself? It’s not like you can’t,” he answers. 

“Because I was confident that Tony could leave more of a...dramatic element to it,” Natasha answers. “And he did. SHIELD is currently reforming all of its employees. One of the ladies who always let me eat strawberry yogurt from the fridge worked for them. He also helped dismantle any chance at regrouping to get you.” 

“Smart,” James answers. “Who is he? Stark?” 

“He’s an asshole, but a skilled detective,” Natasha adds. “Son of Howard Stark. You remember him?” 

“He was supposed to be my next mission,” James says, feeling a bit of the Winter Soldier seep back in. “Guess I won’t have a perfect record.” 

“You don’t have a perfect record, trust me,” Natasha adds. “And I didn’t get you for anything other than a rescue mission. You’re free.” 

-

Being free, James finds, is terrifying. 

Natasha has set him up with his own apartment. He has therapy appointments every Wednesday and Saturday. Grocery shopping is...interesting. 

And he keeps using his past skills to check in on Tony, who is doing well in life, if not a bit...wary. 

He’s assuming you don’t expose the underbelly of at least two secret organizations without gaining some traction. 

He’s gotten takeout four times this week. It’s Thursday. This is sad. 

His therapist also recommends that he gets “friends.” James is not exactly sure how to do that. 

So instead he breaks into Tony’s office. 

“We’re friends now,” he announces as Tony yelps and drops his plate. 

“Oh my god you could’ve just not snuck in!” Tony screeches. “I dropped my rolls!” 

They do become friends after that. Tony decides that James needs to try every single coffee shop that’s ever open. 

(He’s a sucker for iced caramel lattes. They’re good.) 

They both learn how to cook different foods, and try to make noodles. 

“Oh my god we’re both disasters,” Tony says, laughing. He takes a picture of James poking at the disastrous attempt. 

“Take me to pizza?” he asks. 

“Like you have to ask,” Tony says. “Come on.” He smiles at him, amazed by how much he’s changed. He grabs his jacket. 

-

 It is Rhodey who clocks it first. 

“You like him,” he crows. “You like him. You like the assassin!” 

“Ex-assassin,” Tony corrects. “And no. Of course I don’t.” 

“You call him ‘babe’, Tony.” 

“And I call you all sorts of pet names,” Tony argues. 

“Calling me literally the weirdest pet names like ‘honeybear sweetums’ or ‘platypus’ does not count,” Rhodey says. “You do don’t call me babe. Besides, you like hugging him all the time and I guarantee that you like him. Even if he is an ex-assassin and still thinks completing a thousand piece puzzle gives you the same rush of serotonin as jumping out of a car.” 

“He’s fun like that!” Tony protests. “Besides, he doesn’t have a lot of people in his life.” 

“That’s a lie,” Rhodey says. “He regrettably met Steve. Again. And he has Sam. Which I think they are friends. Natasha makes him do things.” 

“Wow your description of friends are so amazing,” Tony deadpans. “It’s like you have some of your one. You sound like a robot.” 

“I’m still right, it’s not like I’m not,” Rhodey says. “You know this. Pepper probably also knows that you like James.” 

- 

He consults Pepper. Clearly she will have some sense. 

“I demand a raise,” she says. “Because I can detect this shit better than you can.” 

“You’re getting a raise but not because of this.” 

“Good,” Pepper says. “Now go organize a nice dinner out or something. Get out of here. I’m rearranging your office desk.” 

Tony groans. He hates it when she does that. 

- 

He supposes they are both right. 

So he also supposes that he might have to take James to a coffee shop and tell him. 

- 

What Tony doesn’t know is that James is gearing up to tell him that he likes him. 

It was brought to his attention by Sam and Natasha. 

“You like him,” Sam says. 

“We’re friends!” 

“Friends don’t write their wedding vows on a napkin,” Natasha remarks. “Go organize a coffee date and tell him. I swear if you don’t tell him I’m going to make you confess at three a.m.” 

“If you get me up at three a.m. I’m violating so many rules,” James says. “Like at least four.” 

“Do five!” Steve yells from the couch. “And tell Rhodey hi for me!” 

“No, he hates you,” James says. 

“Exactly!” 

He sighs, texting Tony. 

hey can u meet me @ clocktower, 7? 

sounds gr8 :) 

Tony doesn’t know why James wants coffee. But he’s happy and definitely only that, ignore his shaking fingers. It’s the caffeine clearly. 

(The caffeine isn’t helping. He knows that.) 

“Hi,” James says. “Thank you for coming to the coffee shop. Tonight.” 

“You’re awkward,” Tony blurts out. “Why are you speaking in fragmentary sentences?” 

“That was at most only one fragmentary sentence.” 

“Oh.” 

They sit for a moment, James goes to get coffee. 

Tony steels himself. 

“You remember how I told you that you probably weren’t going to see a lot of me?” Tony asks. 

“Are you leaving?” James asks, eyes wide. “I’m going with you. Obviously.” 

“No you dumbass, I’m not leaving,” Tony says, taking another sip. “But do you remember?” 

“Clearly,” James says with a snort. 

“Well I was wrong. And we’re friends. And...well. Fuck it. I love you, and not in a like a friendship way. I really, really have been wondering what it’s like to kiss you. And if you don’t feel the same way then just tell me and we’ll be cool just give me like a month.” 

James grins. 

“You mean to tell me we can finally actually go on a date at that fancy seafood restaurant you’ve been dying to go to?” 

“We could’ve always done that, but yes it will be nice to look at you across,” Tony says. 

James takes his hand, smiling. 

“Can I take you out on Friday then?” 

“I’ll wear my best suit,” Tony says, grinning. 

- 

When they’re asked about how they meet, it’s not exactly like you can say “oh I got assigned to find and capture the love of my life and we also managed to wreck a secret organization” for the origin story. 

So they usually keep telling people they met while on a business call. 

Technically true.