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iam93percentstardust · 4 years ago

Note

First of all, Happy Birthday Month!!! Many happy returns!! I have been reading fanfiction for e very long time, but this is the 1st time I have ever submitted a prompt. I kinda think Stuckony would be great but I am down with Winteriron or Stony, wherever the prompt takes you. You're amazing so I know it's gonna be fantastic! Thanks in advance!💜💜💜 “Is that your robot?” “That’s a rude way to talk about my husband.”

This was such a fun prompt to write, thanks for sending it in! And thank you for the birthday wishes!

As always, everything I write is also on ao3

Something taps against Bucky’s foot. At first, he ignores it, figuring someone just bumped into him, but then it happens again and then for a third time. He looks down, fully expecting to see a small child, only to see a small gold and blue robot run into his shoe, back up, and then run right into it again. It looks a little like an atom with a central core and three rings spinning around it in multiple directions. He smiles at the oddly charming behavior and bends down to pick the robot up, wondering if it came from one of the many glittering exhibits he and Steve have walked past today or if it belongs to someone.

“Hey, Stevie,” he begins, thinking to share it with his husband, but when he looks around, Steve isn’t anywhere near him. Bucky sighs and turns in a circle, hoping to spot him somewhere in the packed crowd. Who knew the Stark Expo would draw so many people on a Tuesday in the middle of March? “Stevie, you’re too small to wander off like this.”

He feels a tug on the hem of his coat and then a small voice primly says, “Excuse me, Mister Sir, that’s mine.”

“Huh?” He looks down again, this time to see a young girl of about six or seven years holding onto his jacket. “Oh! Is this your robot?” he asks, crouching down to her level.

“That’s a rude way to talk about my husband,” she informs him, holding her hand out for the robot.

Bucky blinks at her. He’s heard about kids playing pretend with their toys but that’s usually things like Legos or dolls, right? Not a whirring, circular robot that doesn’t even have a face.

“Can I please have Jarvis back?” the girl asks, insistently tugging on his coat again.

“Oh, sure, sorry about that.” He passes it back to her and then looks around, hoping to spot the girl’s parents before she realizes she’s left them. He’s dealt with plenty of upset kids at the school he and Steve work at, so he’s more than capable of handling any meltdown she might have, but he’d like to stave it off if he can. Unfortunately, he doesn’t spot anyone frantically looking for a lost kid, so he’s just getting ready to resign himself to dealing with a crying kid when Steve appears from out of nowhere.

“Hey, Buck, sorry about that, got sidetracked by one of the exhibits. The person works with sand and sound to make art, it was really—” He stops short at the sight of the girl hugging her robot. “Bucky. You didn’t pick up another stray, did you?”

“Excuse me?” Bucky asks, affronted. “I never—”

“No? So what’s Alpine then? Or Dodger? Or, for that matter, me?” Steve crouches down next to the girl and holds out his boney hand for her to shake. “Hey, kid, my name’s Steve. This is Bucky. What’s your name?”

She gives him a suspicious look, but must decide that he’s safe because she says after a moment, “Morgan.”

“Well, Miss Morgan, why don’t we see about finding your parents?” Steve offers. “It looks like they’ve gotten lost.”

Morgan turns one way and then the other, noticing for the first time that she’s alone. Her lower lip trembles, eyes welling up with big, fat tears. “I—”

Bucky, sensing an impending meltdown, quickly says, “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find them. We grown-ups are pretty good at getting lost. It’s up to brave kids like you to help us get found again.”

Morgan sniffs, but nods. “I’m here with Uncle Happy,” she says, sliding her small hand into Bucky’s.

“Then let’s find Uncle Happy,” Steve says decisively. “Would you like me to hold your robot?”

She shakes her head, clutching the robot tighter to her. “You can’t take JARVIS,” she says. “He’s mine.”

“Okay,” Bucky says soothingly. “We won’t take him away.” He shares a quick glance with Steve. “Should we start at Lost and Found?”

“If I may, Sirs,” the robot suddenly says in a cool British voice. Steve yelps, jumping away from it. Bucky startles, dropping Morgan’s hand.

Morgan giggles. “Don’t worry, that’s just Jarvis. He’s an artificial intelligence.” She pronounces the words carefully, like it’s something she’s been taught to say. She holds the robot up, who lights up with every word he says.

“The tracker in this device has been activated. There will be no need to move from this location. Sir will be here momentarily,” Jarvis tells them.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Steve mutters, taking a closer look at the robot. “It talks.”

“I am Just A Rather Very Intelligent System or—”

“JARVIS,” Bucky realizes. “It’s an acronym, not a name.”

“Quite so, though I was named for Edwin Jarvis, an old friend of Sir’s.”

“And Sir is…?”

JARVIS lights up like it’s going to talk again but before it says anything, they hear someone say loudly, “Morgan H. Stark!”

Morgan’s face brightens and she turns, running right into the arms of a slender man in a suit, closely followed by another larger man. “Daddy!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around the man, who catches her up in a tight hug.

“What have we said about running off?” the man asks, sounding worried. He has a familiar voice, Bucky thinks. He wonders where he’s heard it before.

“I didn’t run off,” Morgan protests. “JARVIS did and I had to get him.”

“You didn’t think to tell Happy where you were going?” The man gently brushes her hair out of her eyes before straightening up, setting Morgan on his hip.

“I didn’t have time! JARVIS was moving too fast.”

The man makes a dissenting noise. “Flaw in your logic.”

She shakes her head. “No flaw.”

“Yes flaw. JARVIS has a tracker. You, O’ Great and Powerful Maguna, do not.”

It’s adorable watching the two of them together, seeing the way the man softens the longer he holds Morgan and the way Morgan leans into him. And it doesn’t hurt that the man is wildly attractive too: all big brown eyes and curly hair that Bucky wants to feel between his fingers (he bets they’re as soft as they look). Bucky feels something stir in his heart that he hasn’t felt since the day he met Steve. He quickly glances at Steve, wondering if Steve feels the same way. Steve’s eyes could practically be cartoon hearts, he’s melting so obviously, and Bucky smiles to himself. Maybe, if they play their cards right…

“But I didn’t get lost,” Morgan protests and points at Bucky and Steve. “I had Mister Bucky and Mister Steve.”

Abruptly, all the warmth drains out of the man’s expression. He looks at Bucky and Steve coldly, mouth a thin, tight line. “Oh you did, did you?” He turns to the second man behind him. “Happy, could you take Morgan for a moment?”

“Daddy—” But Happy—who looks more like an Angry than a Happy—has already nodded and taken her from the man’s arms.

“You got it, boss.”

The man now stalks closer to Bucky and Steve. “Alright,” he says abruptly. “How much do I owe you?”

Steve’s expression goes blank. “I’m sorry?” he repeats, voice tense with hidden anger.

“What do you want for this?” the man says. “Finder’s fee, something to keep you quiet, what do you want?”

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are—” Steve begins heatedly, right as Bucky realizes where he’s seen this man before.

“Stevie, stop,” he mutters, catching Steve’s arm before he can get too angry and take a swing at the guy. “That’s Tony Stark.”

“Huh?” Steve looks again and then his face clears. “Oh. This must happen a lot, huh?”

Stark glances between the two of them, looking confused now, rather than angry. That’s good; that’s something Bucky can work with.

“Look, we’re sorry about all this,” Bucky says apologetically. “But we’re really not trying to cause trouble. Morgan’s robot ran into my foot, that’s how we met. We didn’t even know who she was until you got here. You don’t need to pay us off or anything.”

“Really,” Stark states suspiciously. “So I’m not going to wake up tomorrow and all the headlines are saying that I can’t take care of my kid?”

“We’re both teachers,” Steve says, gesturing at him and Bucky. “We know kids wander off all the time. They’re more slippery than a bar of soap in the shower. You’re not going to hear anything from us.”

Stark slumps and runs a hand through his hair. He looks tired all of a sudden, not that Bucky can blame him now that he knows this entire Expo is being run by him. “Sorry,” he says quietly. “You just can’t be too careful in this line of business.”

“I can imagine,” Bucky says soothingly. “If it would help, we’d be happy to sign an NDA.”

“Pepper would probably kill me if I didn’t ask you to,” Stark admits. He sighs. “Great, first time I contact her since the divorce and it’s about my fuckup.”

“You’re not a fuckup,” Steve insists. “Seriously, this happens all the time. Just last week, I had a kid decide he wanted to keep looking at the snails in the Botanical Gardens we took the kids to while the rest of us went to lunch. Took me an hour to find him.”

Tony gives him a hopeful look. “Really?”

“Really. It’s okay. You’re not a bad parent.”

“I’ve just—I’m supposed to be presenting in—” He checks his watch.

Happy shouts, “Five minutes ago, boss.”

“It’s my presentation, I think they can wait for me if I’m running late. Morgan didn’t want to wait while I was prepping so I asked Happy to take her to see some of the exhibits. I didn’t think she’d wander away.”

“Well, hey, we’d hate to make you any later,” Bucky says. “So we’ll let you—”

Morgan pipes up, “Daddy, can’t Mister Bucky and Mister Steve come too?”

“Well—”

“They were so nice,” she says, making her eyes big and wide. “And I think we should be nice and let them watch.”

Stark smiles helplessly at her. “You know what that is? That’s extortion.” He turns to Bucky and Steve again and shrugs. “Do you want to come? It’ll be backstage, so you won’t get to see as much as you would if you were watching from the front. But it’ll be fun, I’m presenting the new arc reactor. Oh—and please, call me Tony. We’re all friends here, no need to stand on formalities.”

Steve and Bucky have one of their silent conversations that always bothers their friends. “Are you sure?” Steve asks. “We wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

Tony gives Bucky a very obvious onceover, followed by a look at Steve, just as obvious and just as hungry. “Oh yes,” he murmurs. “I’m sure.”

“Then we’d love to,” Bucky says, giving Tony a onceover of his own. He and Steve don’t often invite a third partner to their bed, but there’s just something about Tony.

“Great!” Tony chirps. His eyes go dark and heated as he adds, “And maybe afterwards, we can talk about a way to pay you back for helping Morgan out.”

“Tony, really, we don’t need anything,” Steve begins.

“Please,” Tony purrs. “I insist.”

#alle writes #alle answers #stuckony #if you like please consider reblogging #chellibean86

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fairytsuk1 · 4 years ago

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sweet japan breeze | (f)

pairing: izuku midoriya x reader

genre: fluff

words: 3.2k

summary:

Midoriya grins as he traces the soft bridge of your nose, immediately looking away when you turn.

"Is there something on my face?"

"No! No, not at all."

Just the lack of a kiss, is all.

Sweat soaks through your white collared shirt and a string of curses towards the Department of Rare-Quirked Animals goes with it. Gracing you with a uniform more befitting of a tennis player, you grumble noisily. The net handle nearly slips out of your slick hands until you fumble and hold it with a grip that turns your palms white. You can see Midoriya’s green hair appear in your field of vision. He’s trying to act as if he isn’t squinting and analyzing your every behavior, but he is. The look makes you feel like you’re the rare-quirked animal.

“...What,” you squint back at him, squaring your shoulders to face him head on, “are you looking at?”

“What?! Sorry, were you concentrating? You just looked really stressed so I thought you might want a snack,” Midoriya whips his head left and right before sheepishly smiling at you, “I think we’re off trail anyways, my bad!”

You can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed with him, he’s been your partner since you first joined the DORQA. Your head aches at the thought of the insufferable acronym. If you had to see one more poster promoting their stupid monogram, you might need to be locked up.

But him. Your partner Izuku Midoriya...he always had a gleam in his emerald eyes no matter the job, and he always regarded you with a warm smile! He was the epitome of warmth and sunshine, your heart twinged at the thought of you ruining that with your sourpuss attitude.

Your hand brushes his as you take the protein bar, Midoriya’s face lighting up into beautiful shades of salmon. His back straightens and the apples of his cheeks lift. He’s so inexperienced that it’s funny to watch. He was also definitely a people-pleaser; normally you’d poke fun of him but you were too exhausted to do anything but munch on the almond-chocolate bar.

“I’m gonna radio back to headquarters so we can go back to our tent and get some dinner.”

He pulls his radio out and extends the antenna before turning away to call. A realization dawns on you whilst scanning the clear sky. It’s been four days and the white speckled fox was nowhere to be found. There hadn’t even been droppings or footprints; classifying it as extinct would make your life a lot easier but would lead to repercussions in Aizawa’s office. Aizawa...well, you didn’t want to know what would happen if you even dared to think about it.

There was absolutely no way you were going to let him call headquarters and let them know you’d failed on the excursion you begged to go on. It was just plain humiliating; the thought of Bakugou’s smug grin made you want to strangle someone. Bakugou wasn’t even here!

Midoriya had been moments away from speaking until a big fat finger slammed onto the hang-up button. Your foot beat on the ground, aura reeking of stubbornness. Midoriya cried out and turned to remedy the building lecture he was going to receive from Aizawa. You were quicker than him, swiping like a cat and jerking the phone from his grasp. The device cascaded into soft dirt and was nearly squashed under steel-toed boots.

“No way are we telling headquarters we haven’t found that damn fox yet, we’ll be here till we die as far as I’m concerned,”

“But I feel like we’re getting burnt out! Aizawa will understand!”

A loud sigh rings out as you press your palm to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut as an attempt to calm down. “Understand my ass!” Retrieving his phone, you toss it to the boy and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“Let’s just go back to camp, okay? I can sway you with more food, can’t I?”

Your cheek twitches with the urge to smile as your eyes roll, settling on him dramatically. You cross your arms, he wasn’t going to win this battle.

“You think I’m gonna listen to you?”

“No, but I think I’m the more responsible one out of the two of us so I should at least try!”

Your shoulders drop as your jaw opens, a gasp of disbelief coming from your lips. If it had been anyone else, you would’ve screamed about the toxicity in the workplace as you stomped to Toshinori’s office. But in this moment, all you could feel was warmth washing over you. Embarrassment, you were responsible!

“I can be very responsible for your information, write that down in your little notebook!”

Picking up the forgotten net with a harrumph, you stomp your shoe to kick off dirt before walking away. Only two steps ahead, your body quickly turns around adorning the smile of someone who was losing their mind.

“You may be more responsible, but I’m more determined! I’m finding that fucking fox and you can come with me or not!”

You secretly pray he won’t report this, the termination letter left on your desk would be the final straw, your new life beginning by moving countries away and living within a secluded cabin. A strand of hair falls into your face and frustration explodes out of you with ascream. Shaking your hair out before tying it back up, Midoriya’s lips are strawberry and swollen at that point. With the way he’s biting them; they’ll turn into a pretty cherry red soon.

He shakes his head too, clearing the budding laugh in his lungs. He might’ve even looked a bit beautiful had he not been laughing at you.

He was such a nerd.

“Of course I’m coming, what kind of partner would I be if I didn’t? Besides, you need someone to keep you from losing your mind,” he settles his net on his back (firmly strapped in, he would never let you forget that important tip.) You find yourself looking away. Your eyes tug at the wants of your consciousness, desperate to admire the way his forearm flexed when adjusting his belt.

“Did you know this fox is patient and a hard-worker? Looks like you two are total opposites.”

You don’t miss the subtle dig and there’s a bruise to your ego with the way he smirks at you. Retaliation comes easy when your arms swing to capture his head in your net, a proud grin covering up the hearty laugh.

“Whoops! Looks like I caught a total dork in the wild, how’d that happen?”

His voice feels like the sunshine shining on your skin as he shakes his hair out, fluffy with his sweat gleaming under the rays. You only had a few hours left till you were blinded, only able to see his freckles in the shadow of an orange fire. The cool air that would breeze through as the two of you sat in silence, tension soon replacing the chilling wind. You slept in separate tents, professionalism was still a thing.

But you did wonder how it would feel to cuddle up under his arm and stare at the tent ceiling together. Maybe even the sky on a grassy patch in the summer. You envied your daydreams.

Every once in a while, Midoriya’s tracker beeped to remind you of where you are (well, not really, it was so you didn’t die out in the middle of nowhere) which knocks you completely out of your haze. There was no red, white, speckles, or fox anywhere. Anger courses through you at the thought of having to return back to camp empty-handed; your shoes stomping harder into mud. You rub your eyes before taking a deep breath, ready to zero in on the next nearby animal.

“We should probably go back soon, I think I might run out of water unless we find a stream but then…”

Your partner’s voice fades into obscurity when you see it, a flash of white in the corner of your eye. So fast you might have almost missed it if it weren’t for your keen senses. You could practically hear the crunching of leaves as it ran behind a bush.

In that moment it would’ve been much better to yell shhh and come at it with an element of your surprise. Your mind blanks, legs springing into action with a fierce jump. Your vocal chords could only make out one word.

“FOX!”

Both bodies soar through the air, Midoriya following your lead as you crash through the bush. Bramble sticks you in your side and your eyes shut to embrace the impact your elbows, your whole body really, were about to receive. Wind knocks out of you as you grin once you can feel yourself fully settled on the ground.

“I got you, you little…” your eyes open. You blink once, twice, you even squeeze them a bit, “...bastard.”

There is no fox, even the trees have gone silent. The pinecone with white sparkles on it sits perched perfectly on its bottom, it’s mocking you. Surely.

“That’s—”

“I know what it is, Midoriya.”

Shivers run across his skin at your cold throaty voice. Your head plunks into the ground, you lay there for a bit. It hurts so bad, if only the Earth could crack open and swallow you whole. Maybe falling into the Earth’s crust wasn’t so bad, burning to death must be colder than the shame that courses through your veins.

You can practically taste it in your saliva.

How was it possible to have made this...this rookie mistake?

“I want to die, Midoriya.”

He shushes you and lays a warm, large hand between your shoulder blades to comfort you. He winces when the shirt drags across your skin due to the moisture soaked through it.

Gross. He opts for patting your back lightly.

“It’s alright, we all make mistakes.”

“I’m considering quitting the field. How much do accountants make?”

You can hear the smile in his voice, “an actual accountant? Or is that a metaphor for something else?” He’s holding back his laugh, snorts coming out every few seconds.

Your head shoots up to give him an incredulous look, you didn’t even think he knew about that type of stuff. Let alone have the bravery to say it, your mouth opens and closes as you scramble to find something to say.

“You’re a pervert!”

His laugh echoes in your ears again like before, your own sounding out at the absolute ridiculousness of it all. Leaping towards a pinecone and now lying with a mud stain on your pristine white shirt. Things could not have gone any worse with this type of turn around. Maybe this was the good ending.

Midoriya’s hand reaches to his pocket, digging out his tracker and standing from his squat.

“Ready to go eat some nice soup from a can?”

You snort and push yourself up, kicking the pinecone with the remnants of your anger before turning to him, “soup in a can?”

“It’s all we have…” he trails off and fiddles with his tracker, “soup. Soup is all we have…”

“Yeah, you said that. What’s up? Don’t tell me...did Aizawa find out I did that?! Did you leave your radio on?” you reach towards your pocket and pull your radio out, “did I?...”

The incessant beeping you were used to hearing was silent now. When Midoriya sheepishly looks at you, flashing the dark screen of his device you think you might try to find the nearest cliff.

“Oh wow, oh great. That’s just, it broke? Like just now, it decided to fucking break?”

Rapid nods in quick succession.

“Okay. This isn’t a joke or anything right?”

“No. It is broken and you left yours.”

You spend a few minutes screaming with a stick in your mouth at the sky, the makeshift gag effective at silencing you but the rage still swirls like a storm inside you as you pace incessantly. Midoriya sits on a log, trying to radio in or charge the tracker with sun power (“it doesn’t have that capability!”) but it’s a lost cause.

You’re stuck in the forest.

“Fuck! ”

It’s not long before you’ve given up hope. You’re going to die out here to some sort of animal that will eat the meat off your bones like a plate of ribs.

“Midoriya, I feel like we’re walking in circles. I’m also going to starve to death so we should call it quits.”

“I didn’t know you were so weak! I told you we should've gone back earlier, but you’re stubborn!”

He’s mildly irritated, you can tell by the way his jaw clenches while he looks rapidly for a familiar landmark. You feel bad, you didn’t mean to be so rude. He was way more put together than you were, you needed him.

Your eyes search the surroundings, looking for something to possibly cheer him up. “Berries!” Your hand leaves the back of his shirt and you miss his disappointed frown from the disappearance of your warmth.

“We can eat these, maybe there’s hope after all.”

These are poisonous, you learn this within the first few days. If there was one thing Midoriya liked, it was teaching. You were sure if he weren’t here, he’d be helping some little kid realize their dreams of working in the safari.

“Well, aren’t those like-the poisonous ones?! Don’t put anything in your mouth!” He grabs the bush branch and shakes it away from you, the berries falling with little thumps on the ground.

You grin.

“I must be going crazy, we have got to find a way home before I mistake you for a nice piece of broccoli.”

“Shush. Look, remember when I went to pee? I found a water source.”

You blink, a dead look in your face.

“Listen, I may think you’re attractive but I’m not drinking your pee.”

He scrambles for words and shakes his head with wide eyes.

“Attractive?! I was just-there was a stream so I took the time to purify it!”

“Oh! Well, I just thought you were taking a shit.”

“You’re being inappropriate!”

Had someone been listening in, all they would be able to hear were the pleads from a male and the wonderful laugh of his partner.

Midoriya always felt golden light flow through his chest when you were around. The trail you two were on continued downhill, a man-made path making itself known once the two of you kicked astrew leaves away, it was mutually agreed to head downhill as you (possibly) recalled going uphill to get where you were in the first place.

The stars were beginning to rear their pretty heads, speckling in and out of the sky and it left a heavy feeling in your chest. You didn’t want something to happen to either of you, unconsciously clinging to Midoriya harder, you sighed shakily.

“I was joking before, but I'm actually getting a little nervous.”

You admire his freckled jawline, illuminated by the lantern he’d broken out. He gives you a quick side glance, searching for a trick being placed before nodding.

“Me too. I’m really sorry about the tracker, I should’ve charged it!”

A huff escapes you from the way he was so utterly wrong, you were the one mistaking pinecones for foxes and being ridiculous.

“No way! I was the one being immature, I’m sorry about that one. We should’ve gone back like you said.”

His shoulders square a bit more, your frame shrinking in tandem. You two were like two animals, one protecting the other with its teeth bared and stance wide.

“You’re...You’re really the reason I’m here.”

“What?”

A beat of silence passes through the both of you, your lips ruby red from the way you gnawed on them with your anxiety chilling you.

“I just mean, you’re the reason I joined. You were so little, prattling on and on...It inspired me too. I probably wouldn’t have been able to get here if it wasn’t for you.”

He’s a bit shocked, half his face is lit and you can tell he doesn’t know what to say. His mouth opens and he can’t even resist the ear to ear grin making its way to imprint his feature.

“I-I mean...well! I’m glad,” he takes a deep breath, “I have to tell you something.”

Midoriya’s hands clench at his side, dripping with sweat as you look at him with big eyes, eagerly anticipating his anecdote.

You watch as if it’s slow motion, he takes a breath and the ghost of a word escapes him but the sound of a tiny scream beats him to the finish line. You’re sure he said something, but your eyes flit past his shoulder, lower, to stare dead in the eyes of a white speckled fox.

The two of you stare in a locked gaze as it’s tail swishes back and forth. You don’t even breath, blood rushing in your ears.

“You motherfucker.”

“Huh?”

You bound past Midoriya, heels digging so hard into the ground that dirt flies up in a cloud. It was like you nearly disappeared.

“The fox Midoriya, the fox!” you cry, “I need you!”

He wasn’t sure if it was the fact he’d confessed and your selective hearing had kicked in, or the fact that it was his job. He didn’t know what made him feel so happy, maybe it was the part of you saying you needed him.

A phrase so simple that struck him in the heart. His feet dashed behind you, lantern outstretched as he cried for you, “I’m coming!”

It was like life or death, but it wasn’t. Why did everything feel so emotionally charged? Your thighs ached and the threat of collapsing was gaining on you.

It hit you though, jumping from rock to rock, that red tailing practically swishing in your face.

“I like you. More than partners, like! I want us to, you know, date and stuff.”

It was totally jerky and awkward, but the words registered in your mind when the fox darted into its burrow. You pause, careful to not ruin it’s precious home. Midoriya comes barreling beside you, barely even panting while a stitch in your side wrecks your lungs.

“Did you get it?!”

“You like me?”

Midoriya gives you an incredulous look, “you’re asking that after we just ran all the way here?!”

“It has a family.”

He sighs a loud breath and squats, “yeah. It does.”

You stare at the opening and listen to the soft squeaks in the nighttime air.

“I like you too.”

His head snaps up, voice wavering while you two share an interlocked gaze.

“Really?”

A familiar smirk quirks up, “duh. What kind of a girl follows a boy into the same field if she doesn't like him?”

Oh! He supposed it should’ve been more obvious when it was worded like that. You plop down next to him, leaning fully against him.

“We can’t capture her. She is a mother.”

“I’m glad we agree.”

The stars shine the brightest at this moment, you can’t exactly see his freckles the way you could before but you know they’re still there.

“The moon looks beautiful tonight.”

“I’m glad I could share it with you.”

A soft nudge is given to your shoulder, “I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

You snort and let your head hang. Midoriya resists the urge to kiss you right then and there.

“I don’t know, I guess foxes just do it for me.”

A wordless hum reverberates through his chest, shifting to wrap an arm around you. The moment’s sweet.

“So, how are we going to get back home?”

“I have no idea.”

#izuku x you #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia x reader #mha x reader #izuku midoriya fluff

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tmngoose · 3 years ago

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Some Assembly Required: a Rottmnt story

Remember this post? Well, I decided to clean up what I had and show it to y’all. This was supposed to be a much longer story, but back when I was writing it, I jumped ship for a different fic I was working on and never came back OTL Characters: Donnie, Mikey, Raph, Leo, April, Shelldon, Draxum, Huginn & Muninn (albeit super brief) Tags: Lab accidents, fires, minor injuries, hurt/comfort, obscure UHF reference I won’t be uploading this to Ao3, so you can read it under the cut :U

For the longest time, Donnie dreamed of the perfect lab partner. Though Shelldon was an impeccable assistant, there were moments where Donnie longed to work side-by-side with another scientist. Someone with a thirst for knowledge! Someone who shared his passion for all things technical and methodical; a scientist, just like he considered himself to be!

To think Baron Draxum would be Donnie's long-awaited lab partner was not a scenario the Softshell had ever fathomed. Still, it was one he accepted with great enthusiasm.

Draxum and Donnie saw no reason to doubt their capabilities. However, the rest of the family remained wary whenever the two of them went off meddling in the lab. With April's help, Raph, Leo, and Mikey devised a strict set of guidelines to ensure Donnie and Draxum wouldn't get into too much trouble.

"Scoff!" Donnie threw the hefty packet of rules down at his feet, offended. "What do you take us for: a pair of unhinged Frankensteins? Y'know, it'd be nice if, just for once, you guys would have a little faith in our scientific endeavors!"

"It's not that we don't trust you guys," April explained, "It's just... you guys tend to get a little carried away with your projects, that's all!"

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"The last time Barry was in a lab, he created the Oozesquitos," April folded her arms, "And don't get me started about the time you messed with your brother's brains."

"Okay! I get it!" Donnie sighed. He picked up the packet of rules and flapped the dust out from its pages. "We won't get carried away: Todd scout's honor."

April smiled, "Thanks, Dee."

"Yes, well, if you'll excuse me, Draxum and I were just about to partake in our latest scientific acquisition: Professor Philo's Chemistry Set for the At-Home Scientist!" Donnie started off for his lab, tucking the packet into a compartment in his battle-shell.

April shook her head, smiling as she headed inside the living room, where the sounds of 8-bit gaming welcomed her. Raph and Mikey were too invested in whatever racing game they were playing to notice April.

"Soo, how'd it go?" Leo asked from his beanbag chair. "Is Donnie mad that we're afraid he'll bring Potatozilla into existence or what?"

"I say he handled it pretty well!" April plopped herself down in the recliner. "I told Donnie that we just wanted to make sure he and Draxum toned it down a bit, that's all."

"See? I told you he'd listen to April!" Mikey grinned smugly at Leo.

Leo rolled his eyes, "Whatever." He went back to scrolling his social feed on his phone, "I'll believe it when they don't create a giant mutant potato or somethin'."

"Be nice, Leo," April swung her legs over the armrest. "We've gotta have a little faith in 'em. Besides, I've never seen Donnie this happy since-"

KA-BOOOOOOM!!!

A powerful tremor shook the lair, taking everyone by surprise. The trinkets Splinter's 'Do Not Touch' cabinet rattled and shook, a few of the lighter items clattered to the floor. April held onto the armchair with Raph steadying it before it could topple over backward. Mikey hid inside of his shell out of reflex as Leo jumped to his feet, prepared to face whatever threat was upon them.

"Omigosh!" Mikey exclaimed, popping his head out of his shell. "What was that?!"

"You don't think DIGG's tryin' to take down the Kaufman Coliseum again?" Raph frowned, trying to rub the ringing out from his ears.

"Um, guys?" Leo sniffed the air, "Does anyone else smell something burning, or is that Raph's 'Taken-By-Surprise' stink?"

Raph sniffed at his underarm, "Nope. It's not me!"

April and Mikey took a moment to smell the air, their noses wrinkled at the familiar acrid odor of smoke.

And smoke could only mean one thing: something was on fire.

Oh no! Donnie! Barry! April's stomach dropped over the thought. She bolted out of the living room with Raph, Leo, and Mikey right behind her. "Please let it be a giant mutant potato!"

It wasn't a giant mutant potato.

By the time they entered the atrium, a thick cloud of smoke had spilled out from the mouth of Donnie's lab, billowing up into the rafters above. Although they couldn't see it, they could hear the fire roaring from deep within the lab.

"Mad Dogz!" Raph barked, "Initiate ‘Fire Safety Plan Alpha!’" “FSssPAH!” Mikey pronounced the acronym from the back of the group.

But before Raph could lead the rescue, Draxum leaped out from the smoke carrying Donnie in his arms; their matching lab coats singed. Shelldon flew out, not too far behind, with Huginn and Munnin holding onto his back.

"Barry!" April ran up to the soot-stained alchemist. "What happened?! I thought y'all we're gonna take things easy? Didn’t y’all read the packet?!"

"We were," Draxum rasped, passing Donnie's limp body into Raph's arms. "If it weren't for a pair of idle hands." He gave his gargoyles a sharp look while removing the safety goggles from his face, leaving clean rings around his eyes.

Munnin's wings sagged, "The instructions weren't joking when it said 'everything in this chemistry set is a fire hazard.'"

"Yeah, including the instructions," Huginn hung his head, "Our bad."

"So, how're we suppose to handle this whole situation?" Leo asked, gesturing to the raging inferno that was (formally) Donnie's lab.

"I'm on it, dudes!" Shelldon replied, concentrating on his emergency protocols hardwired into his drives.

The fire-alarm system blared to life. Then came the hissing of the sprinklers going off and the gush of extinguishing foam spraying deep within the lab. Slowly, the smoke was beginning to ease up, much to everyone's relief.

Slowly, Donnie began to stir, groaning as he slowly regained consciousness, "Ugh... what? M-my lab..." His confusion morphed into panic as he realized the severity of the situation. "My lab!!" He squirmed feebly in Raph's arms, mortified.

"Woah, take it easy," Raph held Donnie against him, firm enough to subdue him yet careful not to hurt him. "That chemistry set of yours nearly got you guys barbequed."

Donnie frowned, "No, you don't understand!" His eyes stung with tears as he thought of his life's work gone in a blaze of unsupervised stupidity. "Everything's ruined!"

"Hey, you don't know that for sure!" April gently touched Donnie's shoulder. "Besides, what's important is you're both okay!"

"April's right," Mikey agreed, clinging to Draxum's side, "We're glad y'all made it out safely. A little flambéed, but you get the idea."

"But my lab," Donnie emphasized.

"Lab shmab, we can worry about that later!" Leo nudged Draxum with his elbow. "For now, let's focus on getting you toasted marshmallows taken care of."

"Yeah, what Leo said!" Raph adjusted Donnie in his arms, heading for the bathroom where the first aid kit was kept. "Just you wait; maybe it's not as bad as you think!"

-x-

Raph's sense of judgment was always a mixed bag, and this time, he couldn't have been farther from the truth.

The lab was a smoldering mess, virtually unrecognizable to the Turtles, Draxum, and April. The walls were blackened, and the smell of burnt wiring and computer parts hung sourly in the air. Puddles of foam and water gathered in parts of the floor, adding to the disarray.

Donnie searched desperately for anything salvageable, but the prospects were slim to none. The bandaged Softshell approached the remnants of his workstation, absolutely gutted. He reached for what was once a prototype for a new battle shell, but it crumbled into ash in his hands.

"Alas, this must've been what it felt like to lose the Library of Alexandria," Donnie mourned poetically, sinking to his knees. Shelldon drifted up to his heartbroken creator, pressing his head against Donnie's side like the loyal drone he was.

"Okaaayyy, so it's a little charbroiled in here," Leo cringed. "But if anyone can fix this, it's you!"

"Do you have any idea how long that'll take me?" Donnie moaned, overwhelmed by the daunting task. "It took me years of refurbishing junk and computer parts, and now I have nothing! Zilch! Nada! No equipment, no materials, no anything!"

Donnie's outburst left the others speechless. They had seen him upset before, but nothing to this extent.

Quietly, Draxum approached Donatello, "As someone who has lost their life's work twice, I understand your plight," he said, joining the turtle on the floor. "However, unlike myself, you are fortunate not to face this endeavor alone. You have your friends, your brothers, and... your lab partner," Draxum looked off to the side, somewhat flustered by the sentimental mushiness his words implied.

"Draxibald's right, Donnie!" Mikey beamed. He was so proud of Barry for stepping up to the plate. He popped up in between them, slinging his arms over their shoulders, "You've got us to help you! We'll have your lab up and running in no time!"

Leo smiled, "Yeah, with you bossing us around, we can totally get the job done!"

"But a total rebuild of this scope requires a certain level of technological sophistication!" Donnie deflated, "So unless you know of any tech-savvy geniuses out there, I don't see how any of this is possible."

"Oh, I know a guy," April answered, "And I'm lookin' right at him~" She smiled at Donnie, who didn't know how to process the compliment. "Have a little faith in yourself, Dee!" Donnie blinked, stunned that his own words were used against him.

"Yeah, you said so yourself!” Raph joined in, “You and that big brain of yours built this lab out of nothin' but junk! If there's anyone who can build back better than ever, it's you! So whaddya say, Don?"

Donnie looked at Raph's hand extended out to him. He then glanced over at Leo, Mikey, and April, all eagerly awaiting his response. He turned to Draxum, who gave a curt nod.

Touched by the support of his family, Donnie wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye, "I say let's order some pizzas and chop-chop! Rome wasn't built in a day, people! We've got our work cut out for us!" He took Raph’s hand and was lifted up from the ground. Yes, Donnie supposed he could have a little faith in himself, and everyone else as well.

#rottmnt #tmngoosepost #abandoned fic #rottmnt fic #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt april #rottmnt draxum #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #rottmnt shelldon #huginn and munnin #I was going through my old WIPs and decided to show y'all this one

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carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory · 4 years ago

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Detecting Objects with Invisible Waves: Using Radar, Sonar, and Echolocation to “See”

The ability to see visible waves of light can be beneficial for determining the size, shape, distance, and speed of things in our surrounding environments. But in many situations, reliance on sight might not be the best option for the remote detection of objects. For example, most animals do not have eyes on the backs of their heads; many cannot see very well at night; and some live in the depths of the ocean where visible light doesn’t reach. Yet these conditions don’t hinder the ability to sense objects for many animals. So, how do humans and other animals “see” distant objects without depending on the use of sight?

One answer is that other types of waves outside of visible light exist and animals have developed methods for detecting them. Two of these methods, sonar and radar, are man-made detection systems that allow us to “see” what our eyes can’t. The other, echolocation, is a natural way for some animals to detect motion through sound waves.

Radar

Radar is a system used to detect, locate, track, and recognize objects from a considerable distance. R.A.D.A.R is an acronym for “radio detection and ranging.” It was initially developed in the 1930s and 1940s for military use, but is now common for civilian purposes as well. Some of these uses include weather observation, air traffic control, and surveillance of other planets.

Air traffic control radar.

Radar works by sending out radio waves, a type of electromagnetic wave, in pulses through a radio transmitter. The waves are reflected off of objects in their path back toward a receiver that can detect those reflections. Radar devices usually use the same antenna for transmitting and receiving, which means the device switches between being active and passive. The received radio wave information can help observers determine the distance and location of the object, how fast it is moving in relation to the receiver, the direction of travel, and sometimes the shape and size of the objects, too.

Radio waves have the longest wavelengths and lowest frequencies of all electromagnetic waves. Because they move slower and require less energy, they travel well through adverse weather conditions like fog, rain, snow, etc. Detection systems like lidar that operate through infrared and visible waves with shorter wavelengths and higher frequencies do not function well in such conditions.

While radar can effectively move through or around various environmental conditions, it is much less effective underwater. The electromagnetic waves of radar are absorbed in large bodies of water within feet of transmission. Instead, we use Sonar in underwater applications.

Sonar

S.O.N.A.R, an acronym for “sound navigation and ranging,” is a similar system to radar in terms of transmitting and receiving waves through pulses to determine distance and speed. However, it functions through the use of sound waves and is highly effective underwater.

Sound waves are mechanical waves, which means they are oscillations, or back and forth movements at regular speeds, of matter. When a mechanical wave strikes an obstacle or comes to the end of the medium it travels in, some portion of the wave is reflected back into the original medium. Water turns out to be a fantastic medium – albeit a slow one – for carrying mechanical waves long distances, making Sonar the top choice for underwater object detection.

Echolocation

Echolocation is a natural sound wave transmission and detection method used by animals to accomplish the same goal of object detection. Though sometimes referred to as sonar in casual conversation, echolocation requires no human-made device to function and is used both above and below water. Animals use echolocation by sending out sound waves in the air or water before them. They can then determine information about objects in their path through the echoes produced when those sounds are reflected.

Echolocation can be utilized by any animal with sound-producing and sensing capabilities. Humans have been known to develop methods of systematically tapping canes or clicking their tongues to produce the sounds needed for echolocation. However, echolocation is more generally associated with the use of ultrasound by non-human animals. Ultrasound is sound that has a mechanical wave frequency higher than the human ear can detect though they operate the same as audible sound waves.

Bats are among the most well-known users of echolocation. They use relatively high, mostly ultrasonic wavelengths and some can create echolocating sounds up to 140 decibels – higher than a military jet taking off only 100 feet away. In order to handle such intense sound wave vibrations, bats turn off their middle ears by just before calling to avoid being deafened by their own calls. They use muscles in their middle ear to pull apart bones that carry sound waves to the inner ear leaving no path for the sound waves to damage the cochlea. Similar to radar devices switching between active transmitters and passive receivers, Bats restore their full hearing a split second later to listen for echoes.

Most of the more than 1300 species of bats use echolocation to hunt and navigate in poor lighting conditions. Fossil evidence indicates that this capability developed in bats at least 52 million years ago. They can detect an insect up to 15 feet away and determine its size, shape, hardness, and direction of travel through their skillful use of echolocation.

Wave Echoes

Animals have long been able to detect objects at a distance through the manipulation of nonvisible waves using technologies like radar and sonar or natural echolocation. Though each of these methods operates a little differently and relies on various shapes, sizes, and types of waves, they each work by emitting waves then determining characteristics based upon the echoes of those waves.

Try it at Home

Go to a corner of a quiet room and close your eyes. Without moving your body too much, try turning your head while making clicking noises with your mouth. Can you tell when you are turned more toward a wall or if there are any objects near you through the way the clicking sound changes? Try holding your hand up in front of your face and moving it back and forth while you click. Can you tell how far away it is or which direction it is moving by the sound? Get creative and try it with different types of objects and different locations!

Jane Thaler is a Gallery Experience Presenter in CMNH’s Life Long Learning Department. Museum staff, volunteers, and interns are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

#Carnegie Museum of Natural History #Echolocation #Sonar #Radar #Science with kids #Kids activities #Bats

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years ago

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Becoming A Stark? (3) Peter Parker x Stark! FemReader

Word Count: 4848

Warnings: Swearing, mention of physical abuse of a child

A/N: Dinner with your two best friends and the Avengers, what could go wrong?

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

You had invited both Betty and Astrid for dinner, like Tony suggested. It had taken a lot of loose excuses to explain why you were picking them up instead of them just coming over and why your Nana and Pops wouldn’t be at dinner. But you and Betty had been best friends since kindergarten and Astrid had joined the two of you when she moved to New York in fourth grade, the three of you inseparable since then so they trusted you. But the idea of bringing your two best friends to the tower and introducing them to the Avengers and more importantly to Tony, that was a whole other thing. Plus Tony had mentioned that Pepper was going to be there, so you were meeting your dad’s girlfriend on top of everything. Tonight could possibly be the worst night of your life if everything goes to shit.

“Y/N, you ready to pick up Betty and Astrid?” Happy asks from the elevator in the living room.

“No.” You answer honestly as your sandal covered feet drag towards the elevator.

“It’s going to be great.” Bruce calls from the couch where he sits with Natasha.

“We’re excited to meet your friends.” Natasha adds.

“You’re not the one who has to explain that your life is over to your best friends.” You mumble. “Make sure Tony is at least presentable when we get back?”

“I’ll threaten him within an inch of his life if I have to.” Natasha promises. You wouldn’t honestly put it past her.

“And no inventions. This needs to go as normal as possible.” You add as Happy holds the elevator doors open for you.

“We’ll keep him out of the lab.” Bruce adds with a laugh. You run your hands over the skirt of your pastel pink dress, before walking into the elevator. The dress you chose for tonight is nicer than you’d normally choose for just dinner at home, but Astrid and Betty didn’t know the Tower was home, so you decided to at least put on a dress compared to the graphic t-shirt and shorts you had been wearing all day. This dress had buttons down the front, pleats, a collar, and a sash that tied around your waist. It was sleeveless, so you might get a bit cold, but Jarvis could always fix that if you did.

“It’s going to be alright. It’s just dinner with your friends and family.” Happy says from the other side of the elevator as the doors close.

“I don’t know if I’d call them family.” You say before asking Jarvis to take you down to the parking garage.

“They’d call you family.” Happy says before stepping off the elevator. You walk towards the black town car, thinking over the words he had said. Sure you were getting to know them all better and yes Tony was your biological father, but family? You’re not sure about that one. Happy opens the door for you to slide in. “Astrid or Betty first?”

“Betty is farther, so her first?” You suggest, before looking at your new phone you had gotten this morning. It was way too over the top, but seeing as it’s also top of the line, you can see why Tony would want you to be seen with it and not the phone you had for the past few years.

“Sounds like a plan.” Happy turns onto the street before looking towards you in the rear view mirror. “You want music?”

“Uh sure?”

“JARVIS can connect to your phone.”

“Jarvis is part of the car too?” You shouldn’t be surprised, but for some reason you find yourself surprised that he’s integrated into everything.

“He wouldn’t be Just A Rather Very Intelligent System if he wasn’t.”

“Wait, it's an acronym?” You ask, all this time just thinking it was a name like Wallace and Queenie are.

“Your dad is really into acronyms.” Happy gives you a small smile. “So music?”

“Uh JARVIS, can you play my Spotify playlist?”

“Sure which playlist Miss Y/N? June? I Hate Life? Tony Stark Can Rot?-” You cut him off before he says anything else.

“Play June JARVIS.” You close your eyes not wanting to make eye contact with Happy after JARVIS just told your dad’s security that you have a playlist called Tony Stark Can Rot.

“Secrets safe with my Y/N.” Happy says from the front seat as Under Pressure by Queen starts playing. He drives towards I-495E. Happy knows in a little more than a week, they’re going to be driving this twice a day to take Y/N to Midtown School of Science and Technology. It’s an almost hour drive round trip but Tony was adamant with everyone that Y/N not be moved from the school that all of her friends were going too. Happy is surprised to hear a lot of familiar music play through your playlist that normally plays through Tony’s. You may not have been anywhere near him growing up, but at least he’d be proud that you listened to the classics. Pulling up in front of the brown stone that was programmed into the GPS, Happy sees a blonde girl waiting in front of the building looking up and down the street, probably expecting Y/N to walk up at any point in time. Instead you open the door and call out to your best friend.

“Betty!” Her eyes open wide and stare at you. But she climbs into the car before asking all her questions.

“Y/N, holy cow! You never spring for like yellow cabs, so why did you get a town car? We could have even easily taken the subway like we do when we head into Manhattan.”

“It’s a long story, but I’m not the one paying for the car. I promise everything will be explained but can we wait until Astrid is here? I don’t want to explain everything twice.”

“Sure, of course! Have you finished the essay yet for English?”

“No, I'm still finishing the book.”

“You haven’t finished A Tree Grows in Brooklyn yet? Are you sick or something? You read faster than Astrid and I combined. Or did you spend more time on the science essay? Should I write more you think? I was thinking maybe I should do some more research about my favorite scientist. I mean there’s so much out there about Bruce Banner now since the whole Avenger saving New York thing. But I’ve already done two pages over what we're supposed to do. Who are you writing your paper on again?”

“Frederick Banting. Created insulin. Seemed important enough to get a paper about him.”

“Oh definitely. Look at Astrid’s dress, it is so cute! Not that yours isn’t!”

“It is cute.” You see your brunette friend waiting in a yellow sundress outside of her apartment building. You open the door, and see yet another surprised face at the town car.

“Ok, a town car. We’re fancy now?” Astrid asks as she climbs in with you and Betty.

“Apparently we are.” Betty says, still not knowing why you were in a town car.

“There is a crash on your route, so with traffic the drive will take 35 minutes, Happy and Miss Y/N.” Betty and Astrid look up in concern, trying to figure out where the voice is coming from.

“Thank you JARVIS.” Happy says, turning onto a side street.

“Is Jarvis like a GPS that happens to know your name?” Astrid asks looking at you wearily.

“Kind of? He’s more like an AI.”

“Why does the town car, which you’re not paying for, have an AI that knows your name?” Betty asks, more concerned.

“So the car is my dad’s along with the AI.”

“Your dad?” Astrid and Betty both repeat. They both have known you long enough to know that Nana and Pops had stepped into the role of parents before you could walk or talk.

“But I thought you had no idea who your dad was?” Betty asks.

“I didn’t. Not until a couple days ago and it kind of came out of nowhere. Long story short, I’m living with him and his, uh, family now.”

“But still in New York right? Like you’re still going to school with us right?” Astrid asks.

You nod as you say, “Yes. I’m just living in Midtown now and Happy here is going to drive me to and from school now for safety reasons.”

“For safety reasons?” Astrid asks as Betty voices her own question.

“What is your dad like a big somebody?”

“Yes.”

“To which?” Betty asks.

“To both.” You shrug. You really, really don’t want to say it. You beg the universe not to make you say it.

“Y/N, who is your dad?” The question you had been dreading leaves your friend’s mouth.

“Tony Stark.”

“Holy shit.”

“No way.”

“So you should win like every science fair that we have from here on out.”

“Science is still my least favorite subject.” You answer honestly. “Just because Tony is my father doesn’t change anything.”

“But you’re a Stark, that means like science flows through your blood.”

You motion towards Queenie, who’s clipped to your sash. “I think it’s like insulin. It’s supposed to but it doesn’t.”

“Wait, so if you’re taking us home for dinner, but your Nana and Pops won’t be there does that mean…” Betty trails off not wanting to jinx it.

“We’re going to the tower for dinner.” You confirm.

“Are the Avengers going to be there?” Astrid voices.

“I mean they live there and have eaten dinner with me every night so far.” You jokingly say. “And I figure they need to eat tonight too.”

“Hold on, I’m having dinner with Bruce Banner and you didn’t give me time to prep questions? This would have made my report so much better!” Betty’s head falls back to the headrest in defeat.

“Bett, I’m sure he’d be willing to answer anything you come up with. The Avengers are all really nice.”

“And Daddy Dearest?” Astrid asks.

“No comment.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“It’s not like he’s bad or anything. It’s just he came out of nowhere, took me from Nana and Pops’ and he doesn’t seem to understand that I can handle my diabetes on my own. He had JARVIS monitoring but like way higher than it needed to be. He had alerts set if I fell under 100 the other day.”

“You’ve known him how many days Y/N?” Betty asks.

“Three?”

“It’ll take some time. Plus once we’re back at school, you won’t have to spend as much time with him.”

“Thank god.” You say softly as Happy pulls the car into the tower’s garage. You know as soon as you get upstairs you’ll feel suffocated again, but your friends want to see the tower. So you tell JARVIS to take you upstairs. When you get to the living room though you’re surprised to only see one person waiting for you.

“Hi you must be Astrid, Betty. I’m Pepper.” The strawberry blonde standing in front of you turns to look at you suddenly and with a genuine smile on her face turns to look at you. “And you have to be Y/N. Tony hasn’t stopped talking about you since he found out about you. Which is a nice change of pace since he likes talking about himself if you haven’t found out, which I would find highly impossible. I can’t wait to get to know you through you though. I’m sorry we haven’t met until tonight. SI business has been all over the place with the transition and, well, everything.” She motions towards you. “But I’d like to take you out to maybe lunch or something where it’s just the two of us before you go back to school if you don’t mind?” This was not the reaction you were expecting from your father’s girlfriend.

“Uh, sure. Yeah we can do that.” You push a lock of hair over your shoulder trying to distract yourself with the nervous habit of playing with your hair.

“Great, I’ll give you my number before the night’s over and we can plan something.” She flashes you a huge smile. “Now Steve and Bruce are in the kitchen and I think Natasha is either distracting them or trying to keep Tony from sneaking down to the lab again. And Rhodey is just hanging out I think. I don’t know where Clint has snuck off too but he’ll reappear before dinner is on the table I’ll bet on it. Want to introduce your friends to them all?”

“I was going to take them up to my room but we could do passing introductions.” You agree, knowing that Betty will never let you hear the end of it if you don’t introduce her to Bruce sooner rather than later. “Kitchen is this way.” You motion for them to follow. As you walk into the kitchen there’s a booming laugh that you don’t recognize. Six pairs of eyes turn to fall upon you and your friends as you enter into the kitchen.

“Tonydaughter!” A large, muscled blonde man comes to scoop you into a hug.

“Point Break maybe wait until she knows you to scoop her into a hug.” Tony calls from the other side of the kitchen, a glass filled with a dark liquid in his hand.

“Ha, midgardians are so funny. She will be a better friend of mine than you are.” This man that you have to assume is Thor based on how he talks and acts, sets you down though. Even though you weren’t expecting the hug, it did feel nice after so many days of not having much human contact. “Who are these?”

“I’m Betty Brant, your highness sir.”

“I’m Astrid Stollas.” Astrid does a bit of a curtsy, not sure how to act around the god.

“Brantdaughter and Stollasdaughter, there is no need for these Earthy customs. But we do need to feast.” He raises his fist as if to command it.

“It’s still cooking, Thor.” Steve says from the stove.

“Can you wait twenty minutes?” Bruce asks and Betty’s eyes go wide.

“Betty, Astrid,you met Thor, but meet Steve, Natasha, Rhodey, Tony, and-”

“I know who you are.” Betty cuts you off before you can introduce Bruce. Bruce goes a bit pale and you have a feeling you know where his mind went and not where her’s actually did.

“Yes, I know I’m the Hul-”

“You’re the most renowned scientist of the generation. They painted you into the mural at our school.”

“What?” Bruce looks at her in confusion.

“I just finished my seven page research paper on you.”

“Looks like Brucy has a fangirl.”

“And who are you again?” You ask Tony, determined to not let him ruin Bruce’s moment.

“I am Iron Man.”

“But you’re not in a mural at a school for science and technology. Clearly not important.” Pepper wraps an arm around Tony’s waist as his jaw drops.

“Fix it.” He says to her.

“I’m not donating to your daughter’s school just so you can be in a mural.”

“But I want it.” Tony whines.

“Can’t have it.” Pepper throws back.

“Clearly unimportant.” You say with a shrug. “Astrid, Betty, do you want to see my room?”

“I’m good here.” Betty says, staring at Bruce. Astrid rolls her eyes and pulls Betty by the elbow towards where you are before following you up the stairs.

“She said I was unimportant.” Tony whines to Pepper.

“I think coming from a fourteen year old, you’ll be ok.”

“She’s not just any fourteen year old.” Tony says it and Pepper knows it's true. That girl is the only thing that Tony has talked about for the past four days.

“At least she was joking with you tonight.” Natasha points out as she steals some of the veggies from Steve’s cutting board. “After yesterday, she could have done way worse.”

“And she introduced us to her best friends.” A smile rises to Tony’s face.

“She did say science is her least favorite subject.” Happy says from the living room and Tony’s face falls again.

“She what?”

“Nothing boss.” Happy takes the elevator to his own floor, leaving them with their own messes to deal with for the night.

“Why is she going to a science and technology school if she hates science?” Tony asks Pepper.

“You’ll have to ask her. Or, you could wait until she talks to you about school.” Pepper says.

“Wow Y/N. Half your books aren’t even here yet and you already have so many new ones.” Betty says looking at your shelves that Tony had built the other day.

“I think Tony thinks he can bribe his way into my life with buying books. But it won’t work.” Astrid is standing over by your desk and notices that your sticker covered laptop is plugged in charging but there are some dark data screens, waiting to be used.

“Did he make you a data-”

“I don’t know. I refuse to use as much of his tech as possible. The only one I have to use is the Stark Phone.”

“Y/N, he’s offering you the latest and greatest in Stark tech and you’re just throwing it away to stick it to the man? I would kill for half the tech you have, including the AI.”

“Well if you can find a way to take it, you’re welcome to have it. I don’t want most of it.”

“Because it’s from him or because it’s by him.”

“Both.” Astrid and Betty look at you in confusion. “I was perfectly happy with my life in Queens, living with Nana and Pops and he just came and took me away without any choice. Then he shoves all this tech in my hands and expects me to be elated over all of it. That’s not me. That’s not what I do.”

“Of course it’s not. You would live in the 18th century romance novels as long as you could still rep your LGBT letters.” Astrid says and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Before any of you can say anything else, JARVIS comes over head.

“Dinner is ready Miss Y/N.”

“Why does he call you Miss Y/N? Everyone else is just their names?” Betty asks.

“I don’t know. I guess he was programmed that way.”

“Jarvis?” Betty calls out.

“Yes?”

“Can you call Y/N just Y/N?”

“Certainly.” She smirks at you as you roll your eyes.

“Come on, let’s get dinner over with.” You say rolling your eyes.

“It won’t be that bad.” Astrid promises as the three of you head towards your door.

“You’ve yet to have dinner with the Avengers.” You mumble as you walk them down towards the kitchen. The three open spots are between Pepper and Bruce and you know that Betty will kill you and Astrid if she doesn’t get to sit next to her favorite scientist, so the three of you end up sitting with Betty next to Bruce, where she will probably talk his ear off all night, Astrid in between you and Betty, with Pepper on your right. Tony is sitting on her other side, so it’s not like you can just ignore your dad all through dinner, but you can sure try.

“So you’re all going to be freshmen this year?” Pepper asks. It’s not a total surprise that she knows about your schooling since Natasha had mentioned that Tony had talked to her and Pepper about the situation. But hearing it actually come out of her mouth takes you by surprise. But Astrid saves the day in the end.

“Yup. We’re all starting at Midtown School of Science and Technology, much to Y/N’s chagrin. If we could go to a school where the focus is only reading and English instead, that would probably be her top choice.”

“Is English your favorite subject?” Pepper asks you and you nod, having just taken a bite of the pasta in front of you.

“It’s always been her favorite subject. If Betty hadn’t made her put her book down the first day I met them, I don’t think I would have gotten a word out of her. But then again, Harry Potter is addictive, so it makes sense.” You shoot Astrid a look, for spilling all the beans about you.

“Tony mentioned you were a reader. Something about his cards are buying more fiction then they probably ever have.” Pepper’s hand pats his as she throws a smile in his direction. “That’s probably a good thing. Some people in this place could take some breaks for reading every now and then.”

“That’s unfair. I do read.” Tony almost whines from next to her.

“Something other than manuals and physics books?” Pepper teases. Maybe this is what Natasha meant by she doesn’t put up with Tony’s shit? She calls him out on things? You can’t help but think to yourself as you watch the interaction. Her attention turns back to you. “What are you reading right now?”

“Once and Always.” Tony says as you give your own answer.

“For school or for fun?” Then you turn and look at him. “No, I’m not. I finished that like two days ago.”

“You weren’t even halfway done with it.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You shrug.

“How about both?” Pepper asks, returning to your question.

“I have to finish A Tree Grows In Brooklyn and write an essay on it before the end of the first week of school, so I’m working on that. And for fun, I just started Love, Simon. And I’m loving it.”

“What’s Love, Simon about?” Pepper seems genuinely interested, but do you tell her the plot and possibly out yourself in front of the all of the Avengers? Especially when some of them like Steve had lived in a time when being bi was really not ok?

“It’s a contemporary of sorts. It’s kind of better to go into it not knowing a lot.” You decide to skimp on explanations and play it safe.

“Well if it you end up enjoying it all the way through, let me know. I’m always looking for a good next read.” Pepper says with a smile.

“Uh sure.” You’re almost surprised that she’s interested in what you’re reading. Nana and Pops always supported you reading whatever you wanted, but they had their own genres to read.

“What do you think of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn?” Steve asks from across the table.

“Boring.” Astrid says with a smirk. “I skimmed enough of it to write my paper.”

“I like the writing style. That’s why I’m taking my time with it.” You admit. “If I really wanted to, I could sit down and finish it in a couple hours. It reminds me of my first time reading To Kill A Mockingbird.”

“If you like those you should give The Secret Lives of Bees and The Poisonwood Bible a try.” Steve suggests before taking a bite of his own plate of pasta.

“You’re just suggesting those because you love those. If she’s a reader she should go with some of the real classics. War and Peace. Anna Karenina. Real Russian novels.” Natasha suggests with her fork enunciating her words. Betty and Astrid can’t help but laugh. All the Avengers turn to look at the teenagers, who seem to be laughing at one of the world’s deadliest assassins. Astrid tries to stifle her giggles, but Betty falls silent.

“Sorry Miss Widow, it’s just Y/N has already read both and loved them. But she read them back a couple of years ago and the school got mad at her for not reading at grade level.” Tony turns to look at you.

“You got in trouble for reading a big Russian novel in middle school?”

“Elementary school.” You correct him. “They didn’t think a 1200 word novel was the right reading experience for a fifth grader.”

“Yeah I’m never going to doubt she’s Tony’s kid.” Clint says before stuffing some pasta in his mouth.

“You read War and Peace at ten?” Natasha asks. You think about it for a moment and then nod.

“Yeah and followed with Anna Karenina, A Confession, The Death of Ivan Ilych, and Resurrection. I went through a Leo Tolstoy phase at that point.” Your eyes drop to your plate as everyone else’s eyes are on you. You push some of the veggies around your plate.

“Our teacher, Mr. Balton, hated it because he couldn’t get mad at Y/N because she was still getting all of her work done and she had the highest grades in our class. Even tried to say she was a distraction to the rest of the class, but when she’s just silently reading, he doesn’t have any pull. He even threw her book across the classroom one day, because he was pissed that she was reading so far above her grade level. And instead of exploding at him, Y/N stood up, walked across the room, picked up the book, sat back down, flipped it back open to where she was and started reading again.”

“Your teacher threw your book?”

“He wasn’t the greatest. It was public school.” You shrug, as Astrid had just explained one of the roughest school years of your life. Mr. Balton tried to make your life a living hell.

“I’m going to find him and-” Tony mutters.

“He got fired.” Betty adds. “He had issues with a lot of the students and was very prone to throwing things.” Betty pauses, and you can almost hear the story she’s not telling. Your head pops up and you catch her eyes. “Anyway…” She turns to change the subject.

“Betty you’re not going to tell the story that got him fired?” Astrid says around a mouthful of pasta and your hand flies over her mouth.

“I don’t think we need to share that story.”

“I think we definitely do.” Tony’s voice comes from the other side of Pepper, firm and less teasing than other nights at dinner.

“Betty, why don’t you tell us about your science paper?” You suggest, knowing that if Tony hears the story, someone will blow a gasket. Most likely him. It shows how badly the public schooling system was, and Pops and Nana had already blown a fuse over it. You didn’t need Tony Stark getting upset over something that happened four years ago.

“I’m more interested in learning about what got your teacher fired.” Tony repeats. “Astrid?”

“I’m good Mr. Stark. I don’t think I was even there the day it happened.” Astrid says before pushing some pasta into her mouth.

“Betty?”

“I’m not even sure which incident you’re talking about sir.” If anything, your two best friends would have your back no matter what. The rest of the table has gone silent. Tony could go into a rage over things that had happened last week. They all had suspicions based on the fact that you wouldn’t let your friends tell the story. If it was something from four years ago that you were worried about him losing it over, you probably had good reason to be worried.

“Y/N?”

“Tony?”

“How did your teacher get fired.” His words come out harsh.

“Why do you really want to know?” You challenge.

“I think you know exactly why I want to know.”

“Tony, is now really the time?” Pepper asks, a hand draping over his.

“Pep-”

“Fine, you really want to know. This is why.” You pull your hair back to show a six inch scar that is hidden by your hair normally.

“What the hell is that.”

“That is what happens when someone throws scissors across a classroom at your head.”

“He threw scissors? At your head?” Tony’s words are spoken through a clenched jaw.

“He did. And had you been there, you could have joined Nana and Pops in their outrage. But four years ago you were off doing your own thing. So… moving on.” You lift your fork to your lips as the rest of the room barely breathes.

“Why?” Tony’s words are almost silent.

“Why what?”

“Why did he throw scissors at you?”

“Because I was reading. I was reading Resurrection and he said no kid my age should be reading a 500 page book while there are kids who could barely do their multiplication tables. And he wanted to make his point. And the closest thing to him was a pair of scissors.”

“I’ll make sure he can never teach again.”

“He can’t. At least not in the state of New York. I doubt anywhere else either. He assaulted a minor. That goes on like police record shit.”

“I should have been there.”

“You didn’t know.” You try to be more mature than you feel in this moment. “You are now. Next time something happens. You’ll be there, I hope.”

“I will.” His arm wraps around Pepper to grasp your shoulder. “I’m here for you from now on.”

tags: @persephonehemingway @iamaunicorn4704 @furiouspockettoad @daughter-of-stark @eternalharry @huntective-kyeo

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geekydane · 5 years ago

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Talk to me - Tommy Shelby x reader - chapter 4

Masterlist

After your first time at the Garrison, Ada started to come to the office to take you there. Tommy asked her the first time if it was a good idea, but she shrugged and dragged you along. You could feel that she liked your company. Maybe it was because she was the one who did all the talking and you listening. It was okay, because she had had such a crazy childhood with all those brothers toying with her and treating her like she was made of porcelain sometimes. You never got any siblings and only lived with your father until his death. Ada also told you some more personal stories about when Tommy, Arthur and John when to France and your heart ached for the three with all the terror they might have experienced. The war had basically when over your head, sitting in your room at the Langston’s. Maybe occasionally hearing the siren and was dragged down in the basement for protection when the humming of the Fokker Eindeckers flying over London.

It was like the whole family just accepted you presence. You noticed how the brothers started to talk already when they reached the front room with you and Lizzie’s desks. Usually they kept quiet until they were in Tommy’s office and you could hear the mumbling through the door, when you weren’t typing.

“Y/n? Bring your paper and pen.” You lifted your head and turned around to see Tommy standing in the door to his office. He nodded his head towards his office, signaling you to get in. Lizzie nodded like she was telling you that it was okay. You both knew that the three brothers were in the office at the moment and last time you were alone in a room with three men you were tied up and thrown over the desk. When you stepped inside Tommy automatically put a hand in the small of your back like he used to when you hesitated. It was like he knew it before you even thought about it. It was the only contact that had ever happened between the two of you, but over the short amount of time you had grown used to it. Tommy closed the door behind you and you say down in front of his desk. Arthur stood at the window looking own between the wooden blinds that was only half open and dimmed the light in the room. John was on the same site of the desk as you.

“Don’t worry. We don’t bite. Unless ya want us to.” Arthur said and your eyes widened and you looked to Tommy for help because you hadn’t quite figured out Arthur yet. It was like he constantly had mood swings. Tommy just shook his head at his brother.

“We called you in here because we want to see your skills in action. You are quite fast with numbers and I have a… client… coming in. You have to make sure that the deal will be to our advantage.” Tommy explained and lean in over his desk, folding his hands. You nodded as an answer. You didn’t know if you would be able to process the numbers under pressure but at the same time you were curious to see how the deals were made in Tommy’s office.

“Good. Now, he will be here any minute. John, Arthur.” Only by the mention of their names, they apparently knew what to do. They both got up and left the room, leaving you alone with Tommy.

“You don’t have to interact with the man coming in here, okay? You are only here to look over the numbers. I will handle the rest.” He assured you just before there was a knock on the door. Tommy moved and took the chair John used the moment before and dragged it to his side of the table and gestured for you to sit there instead. You moved around the table as Tommy asked for whoever was outside the door to get inside. The door opened and Lizzie stepped in first.

“Mr. Bailey is here.” She said and caught your eyes as she said it. She looked confused to why you were still in Tommy’s office but your attention was led to the mountain of a man that walked in behind her. He looked like an Irish mine worker trying to dress nicely for the first time. The suit didn’t fit him very well and the peaked cap on his head looked too small. To you, he looked like a man with a mean fist that he might not be afraid to use.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t show up. Please.” Tommy gestured for the man to sit down in front of the desk. He took off his hat and sat down. The chair made a creaking sound, like it could give up at any moment. The man looked you up and down. It wasn’t pleasant but he didn’t look interested in you in any way, so you nodded politely at him.

“What is her role in this?” The man pointed his chin in your direction. Okay, maybe he was interested anyway.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s my.. Extra pair of ears.” Tommy said without introducing you further. You were relieved when the conversation immediately went to business instead of you. You tried to follow along with the conversation, but they used a lot of acronyms that you knew from the papers you handled. You didn’t know much about what they meant; just that it was something about booze and smuggling. You wrote down the numbers that was thrown around between the two men and once in a while Tommy halted and looked to you to make sure that you got it all. You felt your cheeks heat up as you nodded as an answer and the two men continued.

Mr. Bailey wasn’t a very pleasant man. He shouted more than he spoke and when the conversation didn’t go his way he leaned forward in his chair and more than once hammered his fist into Tommy’s desk so that you jumped out of your chair. After he did that a second time, Tommy’s eyes didn’t leave the man. You most of all noticed, because he didn’t look your way after that. He was wary of the man, and you didn’t know if that was good that he would step in if something went south or bad because he then knew that the man could be dangerous. You had come to trust Tommy more so you just did your part. In the end when everything was laid out on the table and it was deal or no deal, both men stared in your direction.

“What do you say, y/n? Is the deal good?” Tommy asked you in his raspy voice. You knew that he knew it was bad but he looked at you with a very patient expression. To a contradiction the other man stared you down like a mad man. He dared for you to imply that it was a bad deal for the Shelbys. You wrote your answer down under all your calculations and stood up and placed the paper in front of Tommy. He picked it up and skimmed the page before he cleared his throat.

“Mr. Bailey. Unfortunately I have to decline your offer.” Tommy said in a calm tone but Bailey was anything but calm and stood up so fast that the chair almost fell over behind him. His eyes were directed at you as he stepped forward. You immediately stepped back and as a natural reaction you covered your head with your arms.

“How dare…” The man didn’t get to finish before Tommy stood up as well and with one swift movement pushed you aside and stood chest to chest with the man.

“I think we are done here.” Tommy said as calm as he had asked you for your opinion a moment ago. It took a while but it was like the man deflated while staring at Tommy.

“I will be back.” The man said and glared at you over Tommy’s shoulder, before he left the office and slammed the door after him. You could finally calm down again and find your heart the might have jumped out of your chest when he stepped forward.

“He’s a man who has it all in his mouth.” Tommy said. He sat down again and lit a cigarette. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, so you just stood there and looked at the smoke rising up from his cigarette and disappearing into the air.

“You did well. It’s very practical that you don’t talk. You don’t interrupt and are more focused with listening. You hear things that others don’t. It's a trait but also a curse I imagine.” You didn’t know if it was a compliment or not so you just shrugged.

“We deserve a round at Garrison, don’t you think?” Tommy said with a hint of a smile tugging the sides of his lips. As he now had a habit of doing, he placed a hand in the small of your back and led you to the door. Outside was Lizzie standing with the two other brothers. She looked kind of shocked so you guessed she had the pleasure of standing in the way of Mr. Bailey when he was on his way. Without muttering a word, you and Tommy passed them all and they quickly followed you to the Garrison.

It was actually fun. You couldn’t remember when you last felt like you enjoyed yourself, but you were relaxing in their presence. You were placed between Tommy and Ada. Tommy’s arm was placed on your chair backrest and Ada was talking your ears off but the mood was loos and people were loud. The alcohol was in their blood and you enjoyed being a part of a party instead of listening to it from afar. You felt safe despite the fact that most of those around you were carrying a gun. It didn’t get too late before Tommy said that he needed to take you home, because he needed you to be up early for work. As much as you enjoyed being in the company of the whole Shelby family, you didn’t mind walking with Tommy. He never spoke much when the whole family was there, but he kind of had to speak when he was alone with you, since you didn’t say anything. You liked that he never pressured you to even try.

“You like your flat? I hear Lizzie has been helping you decorate it.” Tommy said. It was weird for him to small talk but you liked that he tried. You nodded, even though you didn’t really like the place much. You couldn’t sleep with all the sounds and the thought of someone breaking in.

“It was something we found quickly, so we didn’t know the condition of the place. But the street should be relatively quiet. Don’t you think?” You shrugged. You didn’t know how to express yourself, when your lips felt like they were forever sealed. How do you tell him that every noise is 10 times louder when you are alone, when you can only use your facial expressions and hands?

Like he had read your thoughts, he pulled out a piece of paper and his personal pen from the inner pocket in his jacket. He placed it in your hands as you had stopped near a house with an outside lamp. He nodded to the paper, urging you to write. You looked around for a smooth surface to use and found that it was only the stairs and wall that could be used. You stepped up to the wall and started writing some of the things that had troubled you since coming to Birmingham. It was nice that someone actually wanted to listen even though you didn’t say anything. As you were writing you could feel Tommy come closer to you but without touching you. It gave you a strange feeling of comfort, even though this would be part of a nightmare if it was any other man that stood there; Trapped between a wall and a man known to violence.

You handed him the paper as you turned around. He stepped back to hold it towards the very sparing light.

I hear everything on the street. It might be peaceful but my thoughts make a mouse an elephant.

“I see you and I are alike in some ways. But all we can do is to live with it until we find peace with our faith.” Tommy muttered and gestured for you to continue walking. You didn’t obey and stood looking questioning at the man. You wanted him to elaborate what he meant. How would the two of you be alike? But he never gave you an answer. He simply put his hand in the small of your back and pushed you slightly. It was like he knew that it was your weakness and the only way he could make you do anything he told you to do. Everything felt okay when you could feel he was there. All the sounds would go away and the nightmares would never come. If that feeling could just stay there the moment he removed his hands. Then maybe you could do as he said and find peace with what faith had thrown in your face in the past.

“Here we are.” Deep in thoughts you had let Tommy follow you all the way back to your flat without noticing the time has passed. He let go of you and it was like your whole body tensed up with the missing connection between the two of you. You didn’t know what to expect from him now. You looked down at your shoes while waiting for him to say his good bye, so that you could awkwardly wave at him. He cleared his throat which made you look up.

“It was nice of you to join us at the Garrison tonight. I think my sister is quite fond of you. Maybe she will let you meet her son soon.” It looked like it was hard on him to small talk. He just wasn’t the type, so you let him off and waved to him to say good bye and stepped back to let him know that you would head inside.

“Yes. Right. Good night then y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office. We have another potential collaborator coming in first thing I the morning. I see that you will attend the meeting with us.” You nodded at him request and he started to walk down the street from where you came. You couldn’t help yourself but to just stand there and look at him walk. There wasn’t much light in the streets as there was a great distance between the street lamps, but his long coat drifted in the wind and mad his walk look much more dramatic than it was. He was an intense and powerful man even seen from far away. You breathed out heavily as he turned a corner and was out of sighed. The frightful feeling of being alone and exposed on the street crept into you and you hurried up the stairs to your building as running stepped was sounded from behind you and you were pulled down the stairs by your hair. You were so shocked that your body didn’t responded. You fell hard and heavy, feeling every one of the steps on the stairs pierce into your body. The impacted echoed down the street, as your attacker grabbed your arm and started dragging you from the stairs. Your whole body was screaming in pain and a new wave of pain went over you each time you were dragged another step further down the stairs. Your vision went black for a moment and you were so afraid that you didn’t dare to move when the man finally let go of your arm and thrusted your whole body towards the ground.

“You stupid whore. You fucking ruined my chance!” The man snarled and kicked you in the stomach. You curled up to protected your stomach from any more harm, because the first blow alone made the air leave your lungs and made you gasp for air.

“HEY!” A roar from down the street sounded and you hoped that it meant that someone wanted to stop the man. The sound did make the man halt for a moment. He staggered like he was unsure what to do now.

“Stay the hell away or I’ll shoot her brain out!” He then shouted to the newcomer. You could hear fast steps coming towards the two of you and, unfortunately, two different guns being cocked.

“I didn’t think you had it in you, Bailey.” Tommy. It sounded like Tommy. It was Tommy that came back for you. You instantly relaxed a little but giving the situation, you had to stay alert. You had closed your eyes since the fall that went your vision go black. It was to frightening to think that it might be permanent. But you really wanted to see if it was Tommy. You knew it was Tommy.

“You don’t think highly of me, Shelby.” The man spat back. Bailey? Was it the man from earlier?

“I don’t think highly of anyone that hurts an innocent woman.” Tommy said calmly. The next moment Bailey took you in the arm and tried to drag you up. You finally opened your eyes in shock. The pain was unreal and the first thing you saw with your blurry vision was a gun. A gun pointed towards Tommy. You got up on your knees and he tried to pull you all the way up, but your knees buckled. If it wasn’t for his strong grip in your upper arm, you would have fallen over again.

You now stood with your back pressed against Bailey and the front towards Tommy. His expression didn’t reveal anything. He was looking at you and Bailey with a cool stare. You felt the cold metal of the gun press against the side of your head. This was no game.

“Let her go, Bailey.” Tommy roared but Bailey only chuckled at the words. Tommy was eyeing you and gave a little nod with his head. What did he want you to do? Did he want you to try and run? You couldn’t even stand by yourself and didn’t he see the gun pressed to your head?

“Why do you even care? You could get a new whore on the main street. There is enough of them.” Bailey said with a laugh next to your ear. You tried to move your head away from him but he moved with you. Tommy still eyed you like he wanted to tell you something. You knew then that you had to take a chance to get out of this. You were two against one. You might get hurt but maybe you would be able to come of this alive. You tried to keep your panic down as you signaled to Tommy with a hard blink of your eyes. At the same time you lifted your leg and hammered the heel of your boots down into Mr. Bailey’s foot, you saw Tommy move to the side to be able to aim around you. The shock made bailey loosed the grip on you and you tried to take the first step into freedom, but your legs wouldn’t move as fast as you wanted them to. They ached so bad that tears welled up in your eyes. You looked directly at Tommy as he moved forward, still with his gun pointed at Mr. Bailey behind you. The last thing you remembered was Tommy pulling the trigger and a loud bang ringed in your ears. You didn’t see or hear if he hit his target, because something heavy and blunt hit you in the back of your head and your whole world went black again. You were limp before you hit the ground.

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Taglist:

@im-the-colourless-sunshine

@fearthequeer595

@sununicorn

@i-love-you-green

@imnotsomewhore

@imnotuglyimjustpredebut

@hi-there-x

@namiknows

@imnotsomewhore

@captivatedbycillianmurphy

@irishgirl1995

@stalker83005

@stressedandbandobessed7771

@tuliptx

Sorry but some of the tags doesn’t work!

#tommy shelby fan fic #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby fan fiction #tommy shelby imagine #Shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfiction #peaky blinder fanfic #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #fanfiction #fan fiction #cillian murphy

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bluepenguinstories · 4 years ago

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Remoras Full Chapter XXI: Sunny Side Up

Everyone was to meet up by the end and make our trip back home. Earlier in the morning, the cubes with the tents were placed in Ray’s pocket. He and Tigershark would at least be fine, at the very least. Those two got their head start. As for me…

I thought we’d make it out all together. We had won, hadn’t we?

“Come on, you two! Let’s go! For real this time!” I called to Demetria and Remora. D&R, like ‘doctor’, which was something I was sure we all needed. There I went, going on about names and acronyms like I was delirious. Then again, I probably was.

After all, I walked ahead of them. I must have figured that they would follow behind, if they weren’t following behind already. But I must have been halfway in, my mind so focused on returning to Ray and Tigershark, when I looked behind and couldn’t see them. At one point, I thought I heard Demetria call out to me, but it was faint, and I couldn’t be sure. Fuck it. Being sure had nothing to do with it. If there was some reason why they weren’t following behind, I had to know what that reason was.

I tried to run back toward them, but the ceiling above began to crumble and it came crashing down ahead of me.

Maybe with my trusty brass knuckles I can break through the rocks and save them…

It was wishful thinking. Granted, that was the best kind of thinking. Much better than wistful thinking, which still had its time and place. All that rubble beaten and broken through, and there was still more. I wanted to keep going, not give up, but the ceiling continued to fall around me. Stone fell over me and scratched my arms and legs. I jumped back, then ran off.

Cowardice. If I didn’t run out of there, I would have been trapped as well. As well? No. I don’t want to believe they’re trapped in there. There has to be another way out.

Once I made it out, I leaned over to catch my breath. When I looked back, the cave had collapsed and I gasped.

No. By some miracle, or whatever, they must have made it out. I don’t want it to be like when I first came back after almost a year away and assume they died.

When I looked forward, I had trouble seeing anything. Winds swept the landscape and made it near-impossible to see just about anything around me.

“Ray!” I cupped my hands and yelled out into the air. “Tigershark!”

No answer. None at first. All I could do was move forward, even though I didn’t know where ‘forward’ was. Soon, I heard a voice in the distance to my left.

“Hun?” It was that same wispy and soft, plain as day voice that I knew so well; that Ray of Sunshine. I ran over and saw him and Tigershark, seated together next to a tent. That emotion of seeing something so familiar and so dear overtook me and I couldn’t help myself as I tackled him to the ground and wrapped my arms around him.

“Ack. Careful. I’m supposed to be dead,” he groaned. I released him from my grip and sat next to him. Tigershark then went for the tackle, herself. I welcomed it, hell, even staggered back in surprise of her strength.

“It’s so hard to see! It’s scary!” Tigershark exclaimed. I nodded.

“It certainly gives off a feeling, doesn’t it. But there’s a comfort in it, don’t you think? The mysterious? Despite the current state of the weather, it doesn’t seem to bring us any harm. Rather, even if it’s something to be cautious around...it feels right. Natural, even.”

“Uh…” Tigershark looked away. “It’s still scary, though.”

I hope she’s not reminded of the blizzard, I thought, remembering what was said about Tigershark’s parents. To think that the thing that took them was a deliberate manipulation, even if I didn’t fully understand it. Some kind of power to control the environment, create temporary blizzards at any time...was there any sort of explanation that could be made for such a thing?

“I know how this day must have been a frightening experience for you,” I gave her a nod. “But we’re safe now. We have shelter.”

“I’m not saying I’m scared! I’m just saying it’s scary!” She stood up and put her hands on her hips as she declared.

As much as I still had my worries about the two missing from our group, I couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Sure. You are a brave one. Strong, too.”

Hearing those words, she grinned. I was glad to see such a smile. My thoughts drifted once more to the two I became separated from, however, and I looked away from the two I was reunited with.

“Where is Remora and Demetria, by the way?” Ray asked. He must have seen through me. If there was one fault with either of us in relation to each other, it was that neither of us could get anything past the other.

“I walked ahead of them. I thought they would follow behind. I went a long way before looking back, and I know that was a bad call, but maybe I felt overconfident, sure they were close…” My voice trailed off. I had to clear my throat before I spoke up again. “There was a cave in. As far as I knew, there was only one way out of there.”

I looked down. Through my peripheral, I could see Ray nod.

“You think they didn’t make it?” He inquired.

I shook my head.

“No, I have to believe they did,” I concluded. It was a selfish thought, almost as selfish as believing that I had left them behind. But nonetheless, it felt like the right line of thinking to have.

“But it’s very likely they couldn’t have, right? Not if there was only one way out. No matter how strong they are, both of them are only human, right?” He continued to ask. Maybe he wanted to test my resolve. Hell, I wouldn’t have blamed him. But again, I shook my head.

“We’re talking about someone who not only survived a monster, a burning building, and a forest fire, and still managed to walk all the way back here on her own. I assumed she died, and at the time, I had good reason to believe so. Then there’s Remora. We both know she’s a different beast entirely. True, she’s human, but if she wanted to, I’m sure she’d find a way to survive. Even though there’s a chance they didn’t make it, I have to believe otherwise, not because I prefer to be optimistic, but because I need to have faith in them.”

“I see. I hope you’re right,” he looked up. He let slip a smile, then continued. “As much as I like it being just the three of us, I do find the dynamic when we’re all together to be quite amusing.”

Such a thought on the fun we all had together resonated with me and I sat closer to Ray and placed my hand over his as I looked up as well. He locked his fingers in with mine.

“...And if they did die, I’d be real mad!” Tigershark chimed in. “I’d go find their corpses and yell at them!”

Now that I had no doubt about.

When the sky cleared up, we made our trek back down to where we believed the diner to be. Still no sign of those two. We set up camp once it grew dark, all three of us hungry and huddled together in one tent. The next day, we continued down and reached the diner in the afternoon. We all scrambled to the heat and wrapped ourselves in blankets. Ray didn’t take long to warm up and he decided to take it upon himself to fix us some soup. Tigershark got up and ran into the kitchen, as I suppose she felt well enough to help. Rather, she may have thought that Ray wouldn’t be able to handle it well as he was still taking some time to get used to things. In any case, I’m sure he appreciated it.

I continued to look out the window. If they didn’t show up sooner or later, I swore that I would go out and search for them. Whatever the outcome, I needed to know for sure. If that meant searching, I would.

Silence. Time slipped by. Darker.

Evening came and I was so sure I would continue to see no sign of them. But it was just as my eyes began to flutter down and my head bobbed, ready to drift off into dreamland that the front door slammed against the walls and jolted me wide awake. I steered myself in the direction of the door and my body must have been confused as to whether to grin or gasp because my mouth went to form a grin and instead I hiccuped.

There they stood, huddled together, both blue in the face. For once, even if it was for such a painful moment, they were totally in sync with each other. Their hair both a total mess, along with their clothes, as they were both torn and dirty. Together, they shivered and staggered over to the nearest booths.

“Guys?!” Startled, yet relieved, I stood and hurried up to them. “Are you alright?!”

“Take-a-wild-ass-guess,” Demetria rasped through chattered teeth and short breaths.

“No,” Remora turned to me, her cheeks looked locked in place and her mouth opened just a crack, like a window begging for fresh air.

At least she can answer. That’s something.

Both of them looked worse for wear, frostbitten, even. But alive. That was a good place to start, at least.

“Ray! Tigershark!” I cupped my hands and yelled to the kitchen. “Prepare some miso soup and elk stew! Stat!”

They sat next to each other, a sight I wasn’t yet used to, even if they had already done so in some capacity during the camping trip. In unison, their heads fell onto the table and the shivering festival continued.

“We could have had a puppy…” Demetria whined. Okay, maybe she was in better shape than I thought, if she was able to whine. Though whatever she was on about, I had no fuckin’ clue.

“Will you stop going on about that? If Tigershark hears, she’s going to get ideas,” hissed Remora through shivers and little twitches.

“Seems you two are recovering already,” I remarked, trying to offer words of comfort.

“No. I’m just used to this,” Remora muttered.

Demetria lifted her head up little by little as if her head had become a boulder. She glared at Remora.

“Sh-sh-sh-show off,” she struggled to get the words out as she continued to shiver uncontrollably.

“How am I showing off? Just because I’m used to it doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with it.”

Against all odds (and logic) they continued to banter like that and I gave a blank stare as I tried to take it all in.

Is it wrong to think that they act like an old married couple? Yeah, probably. I won’t say anything.

“Well, sit tight, I’ll get you guys both some blankets. Ray and Tigershark are making you guys food,” I assured them. That prompted Remora to look up at me with a dead expression on her face.

“I can’t pay,” she replied, flat and monotone. Say what you will, but I rather missed the lack of expression in her voice. It was something familiar. As for the reply...I was confused. Maybe just a tad.

“You don’t have to. You’re not a customer, you’re…” Family? A friend? I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. At last, I found a word to settle on. “Special.”

“Why?” She asked.

Numerous reasons, silly. Such as…

Instead of listing reasons why, as I found I lacked a proper answer, I instead smiled real wide and said, “I don’t know. Isn’t it better just to be for its own sake?”

No. That wasn’t a good answer. It was for me, but for her, that wouldn’t have satisfied. By now I knew that she needed a concrete answer, and one that made sense to her. I just couldn’t be the one to satisfy, as I didn’t have a concrete answer to give.

To her credit, she said nothing in response and lowered her head back onto the table. Dissatisfied or otherwise, it would seem that she too was at a loss for any real response.

I motioned over to the little window behind the counter that overlooked the kitchen. I leaned up to it and told Ray, “those aren’t customers. This meal’s on the house.”

“Yeah, I saw,” he let out a sigh. “Here I was hoping I could get some money out of people.”

I wanted to elbow him but he was just out of reach.

“C’mon! Aren’t you happy to see that they’re back?”

“Happy? I’m not sure. Relieved? Most definitely. It warms my heart, or at least as much as it can at this point,” his voice was had some grit to it and yet I understood that he spoke in earnest. It seemed I needed to “speak his language,” so to speak.

“This place really can be harsh, can’t it? It’s not easy to keep a positive attitude in a place like this,” I shook my head and smiled as I spoke such words.

“Yes, but it can be a beautiful place as well, full of wonder,” he replied, his voice softening. “Joy and comfort can be found even in a place like this.”

Sometimes it seemed in order to help the both of us, we needed to sort of “swap” with each other. After we traded off energies, then we could level out and continue on.

“That reminds me,” he added. “After their meal, I’d like to make myself a hot cup of chamomile tea to soothe my tired soul.”

“I second that motion,” I nodded, then made my way to the back and grabbed a blanket for the two. Once I returned to the dining hall, two bowls of soup were situated at the table and both recipients had already begun to dig in. As I approached them, I noticed they were in the middle of a conversation:

“What if I had a different name?” Remora asked.

“Then I’d think of you the same. I thought that was obvious,” Demetria replied without so much of a second thought.

“I see. Say, if there was an alternate version of yourself, what kind of life would you like to live?” Remora quizzed Demetria again. I didn’t know what prompted such a discussion, or if it was some oddly specific game of 20 questions.

“I don’t know,” Demetria shrugged. “That’s a rather broad question. I mean, if there’s a limitless amount of universes and there’s the potential for a limitless different versions of me, then I could do anything.”

“But if there was an alternate path your life led, what kind of life would you like to lead?”

“I don’t know. Maybe an assassin? What about you?”

“I think I’d like to be a school teacher,” Remora answered, something which surprised me.

“You, a school teacher?”

“What? If I had a choice, why not?”

While I still didn’t know what prompted such a discussion, nor why she would choose that of all things, I found it interesting nonetheless.

“Here’s your blanket, you guys,” I greeted them as I passed them a thick blanket. To think just a little over a week ago there was another two seated who had been stranded out in the cold and needed a blanket.

“Thank you,” Remora looked up and told me with her dull voice. I couldn’t help but grin.

I turned my attention toward the empty seat across from the two.

“Mind if I sit?” I asked them. They both shrugged. As I took my seat, I took note of the two; there was a slight bit of distance between the two. If Tigershark were to crawl under the table, she could’ve squeezed in between them. Their heads were both focused more on their respective meals than each other. Of course, that was all too understandable. Still, the question cropped up in my mind, what thoughts stir through the ripples of their soup?

“So what happened to you guys?” I questioned them. As glad as I was to see them back, there was still the slightest bit of concern which hung from the edges of my mind.

“Remora suffered some injuries and I wasn’t just going to leave her behind. I tried to call out to you to help, but you must not have heard, so I tried to take it upon myself. We just barely made it out and the whole thing collapsed after that,” Demetria explained to me. I was a little astonished to hear such things, not just because of how impressive such a feat was, but the fact that they had made it out at all when from my end, it had caved in.

“I heard, actually,” I replied, a sour taste in my mouth as I did so. “I tried to make it back to you guys, but I was blocked. You must have come out from a different end, if there even was one,” I then suggested.

“That could have been it,” Remora seemed to agree. “In any case, we all made it back. What’s done is done.”

“Still, you guys don’t look in very good shape,” I pointed out. Considering the whole ordeal with Ray, I wasn’t about to let something like that go.

“I’d have been just fine going out on my own, but she insisted on staying behind with me,” Remora dismissed my concerns.

“You were so convinced you were going to die. I couldn’t just let that happen,” Demetria argued.

“Yeah. What do you think I meant by ‘going out on my own’?”

Demetria fell silent, opting instead to look away. I gulped, not realizing that I would dredge up some kind of tension.

Big oopsie.

“I don’t think you should talk that way…” Demetria then muttered as she continued to look away.

“Why?”

I felt like butting in, going “so guys, how’s the soup?” But I resisted.

“Because I care about you,” she answered, her words dry and strained.

“Wh – I see. Thank you.”

I began to whistle, as I really wasn’t good at moments like those. Especially when I wasn’t involved with them.

“Stop making noises. It’s distracting me from eating,” Remora scolded. I piped down. Really, it was fine just to watch them. Did I need anything else? I didn’t think so.

Not long after the quiet set in, it was taken over by Ray and Tigershark’s presence as they both approached the table. Tigershark lunged out and plopped down on Remora’s lap. Remora made an audible “oof” sound, but allowed it. Now that I thought of it, both Remora and Demetria must’ve been sore and in a great deal of pain. Though I could imagine Remora was more used to it.

“You know, it really is good to see you two again,” Ray greeted. “It just feels complete.”

“Yes,” Remora looked up and added. What ever happened to ‘let me eat soup’?

“At the same time, it does feel weird to think that it’s all over now. We don’t have to worry about any more attacks, there’s no more mystery to solve. Now we might finally see people return, or at the very least be at peace. But it goes without saying, where do we go from here?” Ray mused...no, that may have been the way he talked in the past, but there was now an earnest uncertainty.

“Well, you’re in luck, then. I don’t think our problems are over. Only delayed. That monster in the mansion, there being attacks up here from one man with little note or explanation, neither of those are a coincidence. When I faced that guy after you fled, he mentioned working for, or with, someone. I think the motivation for this person, or group of people, is based partly on a desire for revenge. But the fact that they’d kill others, just for being around, tells me that it’s more than personal – they just want to kill. No matter how complex they may see themselves, I can’t help but think their reasoning is anything other than shallow.”

“I see. So you’re saying our accomplishment was pointless?”

“No, not pointless. It needed to happen, just as that mansion needed to burn down. It removes one obstacle, and things may die down for a while, but I would expect something else to crop up, and probably from the same person or group of people.”

“It’s just a little bitter how there’s been so many attacks and deaths and all we’ve done is chip away at something we still don’t understand.”

“Even so, I don’t think I could have done this trip without you guys. For that, thank you. However…” She cupped her palms over her forehead and looked down, almost like she was ashamed at what she was going to say next. “I still tricked you guys.”

“How so? We were all in on it. Well, there was Demetria, but other than that –” Ray began, before being interrupted.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I told you guys that upon successful completion of this, I would split all the money I had between you guys. Well, all the money I have is...no money. See, a while back, my house was burned down. I presume from the same guy who was responsible for those attacks. Along with my house and the money I had stored, several of my possessions, including my teleportation device, barrier projectors, as well as other tools were destroyed. I’ve known this for some time now and stayed here, not wishing to tell anyone.”

She talked like she expected some big shock amongst ourselves. Perhaps if we were all a different group, we would have been appalled, but instead, I waved it off.

“Oh well, it’s not like Ray or I needed the money. Besides, it’s the journey, not the destination, isn’t it?” I smiled and reassured her.

“I could’ve used the money…” Demetria muttered. Ray concurred, even if he took it a little more seriously than I had.

“This affected all of us,” he informed Remora. “We would have helped regardless. I’m more concerned that you felt you needed to trick us in order to receive help.”

Upon hearing this, she wasn’t much reassured, but hung her head lower.

“Yes, I realize that in all likelihood, making such empty promises were unnecessary. I should know you all better by now and trust you all. Maybe I’m just so fixed on what’s worked before for me, so it makes sense for me to act that way. But I know if it was someone else who did that, I would have told them off. That’s the thing...I can tell all the flaws of others and call them out, yet am prone to the same mistakes. I say I value honesty, but am dishonest.”

“Well, I can understand that in certain situations, it may be necessary,” Ray empathized. “To you, it may seem that you only do what you believe is necessary or justified. I won’t fault that line of thinking.”

“Indeed. I will strive to be more open with all of you.”

“Remora, you can stay here as long as you need to, you know,” I tried to assure her once more.

She shook her head.

“I’ve never needed a home in the first place. So it’s not a huge loss for me.”

Even if that much was true, or what she believed, it must have affected her in some way. In her old life she had what I imagine was a great deal of money at her disposal and whenever she wanted, she could just warp to wherever she wanted. Whether she realized it or not, things would be different for her. If being around people was already a great adjustment for her, being without many of her resources was going to be even more of one.

“I agree with my wife. We’re happy to help in any way we can. You’ve got friends here.”

She looked up now, her eyes wide and mouth ajar, like she was shaken by a great revelation.

“What? Since whe –” She began, before cutting herself off and retracting. “Thank you. I don’t understand, but I appreciate it.”

Ray smiled. “It’s good to have you back.”

He went on about his way, perhaps to make that cup of tea he so wanted. Tigershark also jumped down and went off to the back of the diner. Soon after, both of the two ladies next to me finished their bowls and I took them. Any other time, that would’ve been Demetria’s job, but I figured she had been through enough and needed to relax a little. When I returned from placing the bowls in the kitchen sink, there was only Demetria. Remora must’ve gone back to her room, but she stayed where she was, for whatever reason.

“Hey hun, what’cha doin’ all by yourself?” I checked up on her. Her face was fixated on the window, but it didn’t look like she was looking out, and just wanted to look away.

“I was hoping I could talk to you,” she replied. “Alone.”

“Oh?” I sat down and figured I was in for something. Some kind of heart-to-heart.

“You know as well as I do that I first came here for shallow reasons,” she began, still facing away.

“Well, I’m not sure if I’d call it shallow...even a swimming pool has substances at the bottom of it.”

First came a heavy sigh, then, “look, I’m not good with metaphors, Sunny.”

Oh wow. She said my name. This must be serious.

“It’s obvious that I came here because of my crush on Remora,” she continued.

“Yeah, and I think that’s beautiful,” I countered. She glared and that was my cue to just let her talk.

“Back then, I hate to admit this, but I don’t think I really saw her as a person. I idolized her and thought of her as this larger than life figure. No doubt, she is beautiful, but thinking back, it was more like I thought of her as a fictional character. Just something straight out of a comic book. Maybe this way you can understand it – I didn’t know what kind of life she led, but I figured if I followed her, I would be dropped into a world of action and excitement. It certainly has been that, too, but the longer time has went on, the more clear it is that she’s a person.”

I wonder if Remora herself would’ve liked to hear that seeing as she at times had trouble seeing herself as a person, what with struggling to understand others.

“What I’m saying is, I don’t think it’s a crush anymore, and I don’t know what I feel,” she included.

“How do you figure that?” I asked.

“Well, for starters, I just said I see her now as more of a person. I also care about her. People with crushes don’t care about the person they have a crush on, do they?”

“I mean...the two aren’t mutually exclusive. You totally can.”

“Huh,” she replied, although if she were surprised, she kept focus on where her thoughts were instead. “There’s something there, that much I know. I’ve told you how it was meeting her at the aquarium, my impression of her, not wanting to be ordinary. How I made her into my motivation for anything. If there’s one thing I fear, it’s losing interest in her, but at the same time, I think my interest has already shifted. At least in the sense that I don’t see her the same way.”

“That doesn’t have to be a bad thing though, right?”

“No, but...I just don’t know how to place how I feel anymore. It was easier when I was more...that. But now it’s like she’s still important to me, but it’s different. I was thinking you could help me out with that.”

Man, I recalled how things were on our adventure, but I really wasn’t good with things like that. If only she had gone to Ray. But maybe she just related more to me because of the adventure…

“I appreciate you coming to me,” I cleared my throat as I told her. “But I don’t really know what to tell you. It’s probably not what you want to hear, but I can’t really say where your feelings lie. It’s really up to you. I’ve always just let my feelings take me wherever and worried later. Seems like the better option, anyway.”

She slumped down. Her face hadn’t brightened at all. I really wished I had been of more help.

“I thought you’d have some kind of answer for me…” She rasped.

“I’m not really sure, and that would be wonderful if I was, wouldn’t it? But that said, however you feel, I don’t think it’s a bad thing.”

“I hope not. I just wish I had words I could put for it.”

“Hey,” I stuck my thumb up. “Just take some time here and there to think about it. You might just be pleased with whatever conclusion you come to. If nothing else, I think it’s a good sign that you care about her!”

I left her with that, unsure where else to go. If I was better with such things I could have been ‘it’s love’ or ‘it’s friendship’ but instead I was just like ‘thank you, but hell if I know.’

Maybe that was just the sign I needed. I’ve spent a while back at home really getting to know and spend time with everyone, but with things calming down and Ray recovered, I felt it was due time to head off once again and embark on another adventure.

Even though that itch had return, I had to rein it in. There wasn’t any word of treasure to find or any destination in mind. Nothing slated in the works. Ah, but I knew what the solution was. First, a good night’s rest was in order. Then I would explore my options.

Oh boy!

Once morning came around and I had myself a hearty breakfast consisting of an omelet with bacon, sausage, five different kinds of cheeses (cheddar, pepper jack, gouda, feta, and gorgonzola), pickles, onions (red, green, white), spinach, olives, and last but not least, salmon, I was ready and raring to go.

“Hey Ray! What kinda requests we got?” I charged through the back door and slammed it against the wall as I announced my presence. He looked up.

“Please be more gentle with our home,” he stated before he looked back down at his desk and grabbed the stack of papers. He held it out and I snatched them from him as I shuffled through one by one. He leaned over and I caught his gaze.

“Does this mean we’re back on for doing this? Missions and what not?”

“It is if I can find something good!” I couldn’t stress that enough. Many of them I skipped through while looking and hoping for inspiration until at last I found one that interested me. It wasn’t even one that suited me (it might have been more suited for Remora) but it was the closest I could find to one that piqued my interest. It read:

There have been reports of unexplained killings happening in Chicago, Illinois. Sightings of a tall figure basked in the darkness of night carrying large bladed weapons might be suspect. Other signs point to a blue-tinted hair without a match to anyone in the city’s database. Upon successful identification and elimination of the killer, a lump sum of $100,000 will be mailed.

“Wow. Short,” I commented. No details on the bodies? Not who had been killed or possible reasons why? Some help that was. Still, if it meant exploring and uncovering a mystery, I was game.

“What is it?” Ray asked. I handed the request to him and he scanned through, then shook his head. “Reads like a police report. Was never a fan of those guys.”

“Obviously I’m right there with you, but still, this is something! This could be fun!”

“What? Murder?”

I shook my head with such vigor it was a miracle it didn’t fall off.

“No! Mystery solving! And then murder, I guess. But I mean, if it’s someone who’s already going around killing others, they’re probably bad, anyway, right? So I’d just be killing a killer.”

“If you want to, be my guest. You just don’t strike me as the kind of person into that kind of work,” he argued.

I thought it over. Yeah, he was right. Exploring? Yes. Some mystery? Yes. But taking a life? Hmm…

“Well, it’s not like we need the money, I just wanna go out. Besides, what if it turns out that upon finding this person, they’ve got a pretty good reason and instead I convince them to come to our diner?”

He laughed.

“That sounds like a me thing. But do as you will, just try and be careful. As long as you’re having fun, I can’t complain,” he relented, then scratched his chin. “There’s little I can argue against when it comes to your happiness. I’ll go ahead and give Cybele a call, let her know where you’ll be heading.”

“Thanks hun! I’ll try not to be gone too long, but you know how I can be when I get distracted!” My excitement was too great for any reassurances. But just to top it all off, I leaned over and kissed his forehead.

Right as I was about to run out, Demetria came out of her room and she must’ve overheard the commotion.

“What are you up to?” She demanded to know. I pointed to the paper in hand before explaining:

“I’m off to go find and kill someone.”

She gave off an incredulous look, then scoffed.

“I get that you’re all tough and stuff, but have you ever taken a life before?” She questioned.

“Let’s just put it this way: you know how when I go on adventures there’ll be bad guys shooting at me on bridges, and I use my wit to make those bridges fall? Well, often times, I’m pretty sure those guys don’t have fall with a smooth landing.”

She stared once again, though rather than incredulous, she looked just a tad disgusted.

“Uhh...okay then.”

“I’ll be fine, really!” I pushed past any concern she may have had and ran off, ready to set foot in the windy city.

Once the plane landed down on a rooftop, I jumped out, then waved bye to Cybele.

“I’ll call you when I’m done!” I yelled to her.

She yelled back, but I didn’t catch what she said. At least I was sure she didn’t catch what I said, either, so no big deal.

From the rooftop, I scaled down from the ledge and descended little by little until I made it to the sidewalk where I plopped down. As far as I could tell, no one batted an eyelash, so it must not have been all that out of the ordinary.

“Wow,” I mouthed the words as the crisp air drifted along. Oh, sure, crisp, but nothing quite as bone-chilling as where I was from. It felt more like a gentle breeze, instead. While I watched small crowds go by and the smell of food carts and restaurants nearby mingled with musty odors of trash bins scattered about the sidewalk, I felt a shove against my shoulder. I turned and someone walked past, hands in their pocket and grumbling about how I wouldn’t move over.

“Oh yeah,” I commented. “That’s why I don’t go to cities often.”

As I stomped along at a roadrunner’s pace against the crowded sidewalks, I thought of what little I knew.

So night is the most likely time I would find this person. Right now it’s a bright and cloudy day. Goals right there. Though the cloudy day is a little overshadowed by the skyscrapers muddying everything out. Not so goals.

There weren’t huge crowds, just swathes of people in drips and drabs. Some in small groups, some going on about their business. As much as there was a steady stream of people, it wasn’t a large mass with no room to breathe. There were gaps in between. Similar were the traffic. Little groups at all times, but no long lines waiting to go.

I checked my phone. It was a little before the evening, an hour or so before sunset. Just after rush hour must have ended.

Since I had no clues and ‘large bladed weapons’ along with ‘blue-tinted hair’ was far too vague, I decided to enjoy myself a bit; ferry tours, stops at pizza shops, and listening to jazz bands at a nearby bar. While listening along and shoving a slice of a deep dish pizza as far into my mouth as I could, I turned the bartender and swallowed.

“Hear any rumors as of late?” I tried to nudge the bartender’s beefy tattooed shoulders, but the counter was too wide. She leaned in while polishing a glass.

“What do you wanna know?” She inquired, a sharp smile on her face. It reminded me so much of Ray’s whole persona. However, this person was younger and looked to be entwined with the city’s culture.

I almost asked “Anyone tall with colored hair?” Until I realized that didn’t really narrow it down much.

Instead, a smile spread across my face as I thought of what I wanted to ask.

“Like any abandoned places around here? I’m somewhat of an urban explorer and looking for my next fix.”

She placed her finger on her chin and tapped her foot. I took another chomp at my pizza. Such gooey pepperoni, anchovy, and pineapple goodness, all in a thick layer.

“There’s this office building at the docks that’s been sitting around for lord knows how long. Couple’a folks I know say they’ve passed by and expressed interest in breaking in, but you know…” She trailed off, as if I was supposed to catch her drift.

“Nah, I don’t. What?”

“Oh c’mon, are you a cop?”

Upon hearing that, a couple of sardonic thoughts on what to say played through my head: 1) Sis, my husband’s got ties with time traveling mobsters and likes to cheat billionaires out of their money just for fun. 2) Wanna feel under my shirt for wires? Shit, I don’t even have a gun. All’s I got is a lasso and some brass knuckles.

Instead I did the least convincing thing I could have done: shoved the rest of my pizza into my mouth and told her (while my mouth was full of food), “I’m just ignorant.”

I swallowed then took a big gulp of water.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Anyway, no need to worry about me. Now, I’m guessing there’s gangs and homeless people who like to hang about, then there’s teenagers who’ve already broken in before?” I suggested.

“Mm-hmm. Pretty much. Though I dunno about the dumb kids part. Mostly the folks I’ve talked to said they’ve seen lights turn off and on in different parts of the building. No shadow or sign of anyone, though.”

Huh. So maybe it was a ghost.

“Oh, and just a fair warning: there’s been rumors of this shadowy figure roaming about around those parts. Some say that same figure’s also the one responsible for some killings as of late.”

“Oh? Like what?” My interest was piqued. In such a big city and I already had my lead.

“No one important. Just a few cops and a landlord. Oh, and I think the CEO of a construction company. But that’s it. I’m sure give it a few days and more deaths will be attributed to this mysterious person. Give it another day and people will have moved on. I’m betting whoever this person is, they don’t even have anything to do with these deaths.”

Even if that does turn out to be the case, I have to know for sure, I mulled it over, and decided to listen to a few of the jazz performers, but vowed to investigate the building as soon as closing time came around.

By the time I left that bar, however, I had forgotten all about the mission.

“Man, I could listen to those saxophones all week!” I cackled as I exited. “I’ve gotta bring home a saxophone when all this is said and done!”

When I looked into the sky and saw a pale moon obscured by a thin layer of gray clouds, I drew a breath of air and the cloud that formed from my breath was a lighter shade than the ones in the sky.

What am I doing again? I went to get a bite to eat, and now I’m a little buzzed and hazy. Should I go to a motel? Or...well, there was that abandoned office building the bartender told me about. Good enough place to sleep as any, right?

Then it clicked: that was the place I needed to check out, anyway.

Excited, I rubbed my hands together and ran down the street and headed for the office building. For how long I ran, I didn’t know, as I was lost in the trance of the night. Every action was an after thought from the initial run down to me taking a leap over the fence.

When I made it over, I stopped and the world had caught up with me as I felt its stillness take over. Everything from then on was more clear: I stood in the dark of the night in front of a tall building while people lay scattered around, some huddled in sleeping bags, others in tents. Some close together. Off to my left was the smoke from a makeshift fire. There were a few folks who paced about or went on about their business, making conversation with or propositioning others.

None of them seemed to notice me. I motioned closer to the building as I inspected the windows and doors; all boarded up, no sign of entry.

How did the bartender’s friends see anything through the windows if they’re all boarded up? Unless they were only recently boarded up.

Right when I made my way to circle around in order to find a way in, I was stopped.

“Hey lady. What are you doin’ here?” I heard the gruff voice of a man with curly white hair and a brown leather cap. half-tired was his voice, weary, with just a bit of grit.

“Trying to get in here,” I replied and figured I had nothing to lose by being honest.

“What do you want in there for?”

I reached to my hip where I kept a rope and hook fastened. Beats me why I didn’t think to do so sooner.

“Hey!” Alarmed, he took a step back. “What you reachin’ for?”

“Relax. Just some rope,” I replied, then held the hook in my hand, ready to throw it up to the roof so I could pull myself up. “As for why I want in, mostly just to see what I can find.”

In the corner of my eye, I could see him shake his head.

“There’s nothin’ of value you’ll find there,” he grunted. That was a response I couldn’t help but find odd.

“Who says there’s not value in seeing for myself?” I flashed him a grin, then threw the hook and watched as it landed on the roof. If there was no way in, I’d make a way, and what better way in than down?

Once I pulled myself up, I saw a door that hadn’t been boarded.

“Ah, so this must be how this person’s getting in,” I muttered. Although I must have made all sorts of noise climbing up, now that I was up, I wanted to be as silent as possible.

When I turned to open the door, I found that it was locked. Without further delay, I fished out a hairclip and jostled it in the keyhole. After I heard a click, I turned the handle and was met with...a brick wall.

You’ve got to be kidding me. Sealed out?

I shook my head. It was as if I had been put in some elaborate prank, except no one popped out to announce “you’ve been punk’d!”

I paced about and tapped my foot against the concrete floor. One spot in particular felt weaker than the other.

I’d like to think my legs are strong as well, but I’d hate to kick down and crash all the way to the bottom.

I fastened my brass knuckles on each hand and knelt beside the weakened concrete. Then, with a raised fist and a swift punch to the floor, a crack formed. One more punch, then the floor collapsed next to me and I heard the crash as the concrete collided with the next floor below. It seemed to stop before it got too far, as I didn’t hear such a long series of crashes. With a sigh of relief, I clicked a small flashlight and saw the outline of a hallway along with the hole in the floor that I had caused.

After dropping below, I pointed the flashlight as I scanned around the area. Doors, which when opened, held empty rooms. Some held filing cabinets with empty drawers. Some had desks and chairs, but nothing within or on either. Through the empty halls, I traced each pace with careful movements, every footstep a crawl’s pace.

At the end of the hallway was a rundown elevator. I thought that I could use it to reach the lower floors, but I couldn’t pry the elevator doors open, so after a good struggle and no budge, I left it alone and headed back where the hole in the floor lay. I dropped down and as I did so heard what sounded like crackling electricity in the distance. Like wires broken, but with a charge.

I preferred the silence.

I kept close to the wall and approached the sound. Since my descent, there had been no indication of any traps to avoid. Just the thought made me miss my trips to ancient temples. Soon, the hallway opened up into a large space with carpeted floor and many doors against the walls. At one point in time, I could picture a series of cubicles. Through those doors were offices. This building had a history and although such a history was unknown to me, the pieces to its story was there.

All movement from me had ceased. My flashlight dropped upon seeing someone crouched down against a panel on the far end of the wall, their back turned to me. The drop of my flashlight echoed throughout the halls. I couldn’t make out many of their features, save for their height and dark clothing, along with a helmet over their head.

I don’t think I’m seeing a ghost. Not only that, but this person must have noticed me. Any chance of sneaking has gone out the window. Oh, who am I kidding? The crash of the ceiling should have given me away before I even entered.

Since there was little else I could do, any movement would have given me more away whether forward or back, I watched; a spark of light displayed their hands, gloved, and nearby, a light turned on in one of the rooms. Then another light. No other lights turned on and at last, the person spoke:

“Damn. Still not enough,” cursed the figure in a harsh, yet wispy voice. Almost like a breeze, but less gentle and more brisk.

“What are you doing?” My words forced themselves out in a hoarse, reluctant question. Sure, I was curious, but if this was the person I needed to kill, then I had to get right into the action.

“Trying to bring power to this place. Electricity can provide light. Heat. Power,” came the reply, a breathy one at that. In spite of its seriousness, their pitch was on the higher end.

“Renovation?” I suggested.

Without so much as turning to me, the figure replied with a nod.

“There are many rooms here. It can provide shelter to many. It’s illegal to use electricity without paying the electric company. It’s also illegal to enter abandoned and unused property. But then again, it’s also illegal to be homeless. Some crimes cannot be helped.”

“Indeed,” I agreed, then added to it, “so is murder.”

To that, the figure stopped what they were doing and got up. I heard the clang as their helmet fell to the floor. Its metallic features and shape became illuminated by the small amount of light brought on by my dropped flashlight. Also illuminated were the figure’s legs, both bulky and well-toned muscles.

Muscular. I can respect that, at least.

While I could tell their stature from what little light there was, their face remained obscured by the darkness.

“As I said: some crimes cannot be helped,” tight spoken words, a hint of anger.

I took a step back and got into a fighting stance. That all but confirmed that I had found the killer.

“Are you the shadowy figure who’s been murdering people?” I raised my voice, not out of anger, but just to make sure we were both on the same page.

“I am, and I take it that you’re someone of authority, come to bring me to justice?”

“Close,” my smile widened. No sound of weapons drawn, but I needed to be ready, nonetheless. “But I’m just doing this because I want to.”

I charged in, fist raised, and threw it forward, only for figure to swerve out of the way. So I elbowed back and felt their grip against my arm squeeze in.

Such a tight grip, holy hell.

Although I struggled, I managed to push back and spun back. They had let go and I heard their footstep take a skip back.

“See, that’s just not a good reason,” returned their voice, more pronounced now. Rather than the breezy voice before, it was more husky in tone and carried a bite to it.

I reached for the rope and hook once more and spun it around, then flung it forward. Whether I would miss or hit, what I didn’t expect was to feel a tug against the hook and the rope cut from it. Then, footsteps tapped at an alarming speed, and although I managed move out of the way, the hook slashed across and made cuts against my arm.

“I would say you’re foolish, but no: you’re just impulsive,” they spoke again, almost analytical in tone now.

Another slash soon came, and I heard the blow of the swing in time for me to move, then I reached for the other side of my hip from where the rope had been and pulled out a whip, then crackled it against my enemy’s hand as the hook they had taken from me fell out and I heard a grunt in pain. While disarmed, I thought I could throw a punch in, but my fist was caught with their palm, and the grip tightened in.

I can’t let them have their hands free, I then threw my other fist in and we were both locked in now. Our strengths seemed a near match as we kept pushing each other back and forth, a tug-of-war with our respective strengths. Then, as I pushed forward, I managed to push them far enough back that the sparks from the open panel they had been at illuminated their face. No, her face.

An audible gasp escaped me. There it was, the blue-tinted hair, with a matchstick in her mouth.

“Rhea? Is that you?” I uttered in shock, the resemblance, with what little light I could tell, was uncanny. Her smile spread, then gave her reply.

“Heh. Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in years.”

She then raised her knee and kicked me away. I fell back. Next to me was my hook from the rope. Well, I could undo the knot in my lasso and use that as a replacement. Damn, maybe I really did have a thing for ropes and whips.

I grabbed the hook and picked myself up, ready to strike. Even if she was this person who...who I thought had died, or who I thought Remora was, well...I still had a job to do.

“There was a request for your death,” I explained.

“So you fancy yourself some kind of bounty hunter, then?” She mused, almost as playful as I.

I nodded, then slashed across with the hook, but she jumped back. She then grabbed the wires and plunged them against my wrist. The shock coursed through me and I fell back.

Although my heart was in a rush, I still had plenty of wind left in me. As I struggled up, she slid a long sword from a sheath and held it out, pointed at me.

“Don’t move a muscle. I could kill you right now,” that playful, but icy voice rang through my ears. It lingered and created goosebumps against my shoulders and the voice carried like an aftertaste. Rather than do what she could have done, she sheathed her blade.

I drew a breath and tried to pick myself up, but then she grabbed me by my neck. Only inches in the air, I was still surprised to be lifted at all as she looked me in the eyes and flashed a toothy grin.

“I could kill you, but instead, I think I’ll give you just enough strength to go back wherever you came from as a warning.”

Fair deal. It’s just too bad I don’t go down that easily.

I swung myself forward and hoped to kick her so I could be released, but it took her no time at all to catch on to what I tried and she unsheathed her sword once more and plunged it into my kneecap. Just as fast as she had done so, she pulled it out and held her blade close to her. I let out a piercing cry of pain as I knelt down, blood trickling down my jeans and onto the floor.

“I’m allowing you to walk away. How are you going to do that if you don’t walk?” She asked and sounded too bored to know the answer to such a question.

Although I struggled, I leaned against the wall and tried to move closer to her. Even as I limped, I wasn’t ready to give up. I’d throw every last punch I could. Rather than give me such a chance, she took her sword and rather than stab me once again, held it back and pushed the hilt against my shoulder. I fell back once more.

“Now. I won’t doubt that you could have put up more of a fight, but you’re at a disadvantage. You can hardly see. You’ve already taken some serious injuries. You didn’t know who you were up against.”

“Heh. No pain no gain,” I rasped out the words. Already lightheaded, I felt myself soon to lose consciousness.

“Yes. But something tells me you’ll need a break.”

Damn. Yeah. A nice bath, some patching up, a few days and I’d be back at it for another fight, and then I’d be more prepared. There wasn’t any reason to give up…

“Here’s what will happen next: I will take you back to the rooftop, you will make whatever call you need to, and then you will leave so that you may tell whoever you need to not to come here. Understand?”

I was in no position to object. Rather, the only oddness I found was that for a killer, she sure seemed generous. Ugh, but it sure was a blow to the ego to have to return home. Still...Ray and the others needed to hear about it, so I tried to take it in stride.

When Cybele found me on my back and a bloody mess, she fell into a panic. I had to be the calm one and reassure her that yes, I’d survive, and I’ve had worse injuries in the past. Despite such words, she continued to fret through the ride home and I walked her through how to treat such injuries as best as she could with what was available. Poor girl still had trouble calming herself down even when I told her that she did a fine job and that I would be fine.

Once I arrived home, it was about midday the next day and I was in good enough of a state to limp through the door and into the back.

If Cybele wasn’t bad enough, everyone else gave me frightful looks. Less so with Remora, but she looked like she didn’t know what kind of look to give.

I winced, but managed a smile as I sunk into a chair and leaned back. Ray, at his desk, got up.

“Honey, what happened?” He urged for my answer, a profound upset reverberated.

I just got carried away. That’s all.

“I saw...I saw…” I heaved and stuttered out the words, surprised by my own shock. At last, I told them, “I saw Rhea.”

“What? How is that possible?”

“Uh, didn’t she die? Also, we’re really doing this again, after the whole thing with the cave just the other day,” Demetria added in her own two cents. At least the place was lively.

“She had blueish hair and a matchstick in her mouth. Similar build. I…” Really, I didn’t understand what I saw any better than I could describe it.

“What shade?” Remora asked at last, and it was her input I was most interested in. “Also, did she shiver? What was her fighting style?”

So many questions…

“I couldn’t tell. It was dark. No shiver. And...she had a sword.”

Remora leaned her head back and her eyes widened. She turned her head just as I noticed her face tightened, then she muttered, “that wasn’t Rhea.”

“Who was it, then?” I asked her.

“I don’t know, but Rhea didn’t use swords. Anyway, just leave that person alone. They’re no one important and there’s nothing to worry about. Probably.”

“You know something, don’t you?” I pressed.

“I just know who it isn’t, and so it’s probably nothing. Just forget about it.”

Demetria’s face grew serious, a scowl formed. She turned to Ray.

“Do I have permission to get a plane ride there?” It wasn’t a beg, nor a plead, just a confirmation, as if she were already set.

“If you wish,” Ray replied, despite the concern he had displayed.

“Why? What is for you there?” Remora interrogated. “Money? Curiosity? Violence?”

“I just need to know,” Demetria replied before taking off. Remora didn’t try to stop her or press further, it was a surprise at all that she showed any sign of objection.

As Demetria took off, Ray faced Remora.

“What about being more open with us?” He echoed her earlier words. “If you know something, you should tell us.”

Remora lowed her head further and replied:

“I don’t know anything for certain and it sounds like nothing important. So we can move on from this.”

She then strode over to her room and I blinked.

“What about you?” Ray inquired.

“I’ll be fine. Just gimme a few days and I’ll go on another adventure.”

“Please rest longer if you need to,” he added.

“I’ll do my best,” I assured him.

As I continued to sit in that chair, my thoughts stewed on how unusual everything was. How unusual that person had been. How unusual Remora’s reaction was. How unusual Demetria’s reaction was as well. There were so many questions and no conclusion came to mind. Most of all, what I wanted to know was whether I still had it in me to do those dangerous adventures and come out on top or if time had begun to catch up with me.

#remoras full #writing #adventure #drama #action #chicago #stories #fiction #sunny #remora #deep dish pizza

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parkerparts · 5 years ago

Text

My Work is Loving the World

Harley Keener lives alone in Tony Stark’s cabin by the lake. He fills his days with bot-building, AI-coding, garden-tending, and absolutely no spider-killing. It’s fun, sure, but he’s terribly lonely. That all changes when he comes across a red and blue spider in his garden, and to make matters even better, the little fella can understand him.

Truly, it’s a testament to Harley’s sanity — or lack thereof — that he doesn’t run away screaming. Instead, he smiles softly and holds out his hand. “Well then, Peter. Want to come stay with me in the house for a little while? I’m real lonely up there and could use the company.”

The spider Peter doesn’t bother spelling out a response. He just jumps into Harley’s hands, ready to go with him to the ends of the earth.

“Well then,” Harley says again, if only to fill the silence between himself and the nonverbal creature. “Here we go.”

(parkner, 2.6k, no warnings except for fluff and a lil sad boi harley, inspired by this prompt by @offbrand-celestial, title from mary oliver’s ‘the messenger,’ beta’d by the lovely @midorimireio-blog)

Read on AO3 or Keep Reading Below

When he was nine years old, Harley read that killing spiders in a beer brewery was practically illegal. His garage might not be a brewery — though admittedly, he had made moonshine in there once or twice on a whim with a friend or as a dare — but he still outlawed the killing of spiders.

“Why?” his Ma had asked, stepping into the place to bring him a dinner plate. She frowned at the expanse of cobwebs Harley empathetically embraced.

“They’re cool creatures,” he said with a shrug, mouth full with a bite cornbread. “Ain’t done nothing wrong to me, so I don’t see no point in killin’ them things.”

Twelve years later, not a thing has changed. He lives in Georgia now, in the lakeside cabin Tony and Pepper keep as their getaway house. They visit more often as Morgan gets older, needing a break from whatever mess they handle up in the city to spend time as a family — Harley and the other Keeners included. Harley’s Ma lives in New York, has some swanky job in one of Pepper’s departments, but Abbie’s in Georgia with Harley, attending Emory University. Harley, at Tony’s insistence, had finished high school before moving out, though he refused to go to college. He liked living here, alone most of the time except for when Abbie visited from her dorm on holidays and the Starks and his Ma came down every couple of months. He could do as he pleased, tinkering and inventing and regularly blowing things up. He was terribly happy in that cabin by the lake.

He was also terribly lonely.

Sure, he had his cars and his bots and his trusty AI C.I.R.C.E, but they weren’t the same as human connection, something he infallibly yearned for. Some days, when the self-imposed isolation was too much to bear, he’d drive half an hour into the city of Atlanta, stay a night in a hotel, find a bar, and dance the night away with a faceless guy or two before sleeping alone, buzzed but not drunk and temporarily satisfied.

Most days though, he’d just swallow down the loneliness, bury himself in work or bury himself in blankets. It was all the same to him anyway — a hazy blur of sunrises and sunsets and meals he may or may not have eaten, chores he may or may not have finished. The pile of dirty clothes is a testament to that last one, and he spends three days in an engineering binge to create Landry, the bot who lovingly does his laundry for him when he can hardly be bothered to get out of bed.

Some memories in this hazy blur stick out more sharply than others, and they all revolve around the garden.

It had been started by Pepper as a vegetable garden. When its care fell into Harley’s hands, he had lovingly invested in it, throwing as much hard work and passion into it as he did his engineering. Over the years it has grown into a veritable maze — though not an actual hedge maze, which would have been unimaginably pretentious in Harley’s eyes, and much too orderly. He grew nearly every fruit, vegetable, and flower the Georgia climate would allow and spent hours engineering bots to take care of it.

And, just as in the old garage back in Rose Hill, he had a strict no spider-killing rule.

Harley wakes up, sprawled sideways in a chair on the porch. The sun is high in the sky, and a glance at his phone indicates that it’s well past noon. Even then, Harley shivers, the spring air not yet warm enough for his liking. Half a day wasted, though really, Harley muses as he goes inside, he was up all night combing through his AI’s code, so it’s not like he actually wasted time. Just daylight.

“Mornin’ C.I.R.C.E,” he greets his AI, yawning. “How we feeling?”

“Like brand new, after last night’s check-up.”

“Good, good,” he murmurs, rifling through his dresser. At long last he finds a pair of clean jeans, holding them up with a triumphant grin. “C.I.R.C.E., wake Kof-E up for me, will ya? And send Landry in here. She’s been slacking off her duties.”

“You got it, partner.” Tony had been downright scandalized when he heard Harley’s AI’s country twang. Abbie had laughed about the look on his face for days. Harley smiles at the memory as he goes back out into the kitchen, freshly dressed but with his hair as unkempt as ever. His beloved robot Kof-E whirs from his place on the kitchen counter, wheeling closer as Harley approaches to present a cup of coffee. Harley takes it and pats the robot’s head. He heads outside again, slipping on his boots and a flannel as he makes his way to the garden.

He grabs an apple from the trees that line the border of the garden as he walks through, pausing to greet his robots — Go-G and Gerald — by name as they trundle along. Soon he reaches a small clearing by the lake under the shade of an oak tree that’s sure to be over a hundred years old. Here, Harley takes a seat, finishing his apple and tucking and core into a bag in his pocket that he’ll put in composting later.

A flash of light catches his eye, and he stands, moving closer to the source. There, in between the branches of the tree, is a spider web that — if Harley’s not hallucinating — spells out HI.

“Howdy,” Harley says out loud in response, feeling only a little stupid. “Where are you?”

As if it can understand him, a spider skittles out of the shadows of the branches. Harley bends closer to take a look, surprised by the vibrancy of the peculiar red and blue creature.

“Can you understand me?” Harley asks.

He only has to wait a moment before the spider has spun a new pattern, spelling YES.

“You got a name, fella?”

The response takes a little longer this time as the spider spells out PETER.

The spider Peter doesn’t bother spelling out a response. He just jumps into Harley’s hands, ready to go with him to the ends of the earth.

“Well then,” Harley says again, if only to fill the silence between himself and the nonverbal creature. “Here we go.”

Over the next few days, Harley and Peter figure out how to live together comfortably. All of Harley’s robots are programmed to recognize and avoid spiders and spider webs, so Peter’s safety isn’t much of a concern. Communication, however, is.

They start out with an old-fashioned chalkboard with basic responses, needs, and the alphabet written out for Peter to indicate by crawling on. With that taken care of, Harley sets off on his next engineering binge, with the goal in mind to create a robot that will allow Peter to move and speak.

He begins by programming a new AI called PETER — Personal Equipment for Telecommunications and Electronic Replies because Harley loves is acronyms as much as Tony does — and gives him the voice of a teenage boy or young adult.

If Abbie or his Ma were here to witness this bout of insanity, they’d call him out for his poorly concealed loneliness. Nonetheless, he is alone and shamelessly gives in to his fantasy of finding a best friend, even if that best friend is a spider.

And really, Peter’s not too shabby of a best friend to have. He likes bacon and waffles — really, the fact that this spider liked human foods should have been a glaring clue to Harley that something truly weird was going on — and makes Harley regain a somewhat normal sleeping schedule by wrapping webs gently around his wrists to make him stop working late at night and somehow — Harley has never figured this one out — getting C.I.R.C.E. to play rock music loudly every morning to rouse him awake. He also gets C.I.R.C.E. to wake Kof-E up every morning though, so Harley can’t complain too much. Peter accompanies Harley in the lab, webbing tools over with surprising strength and giving as much input as he can with his limited communication abilities. He accompanies Harley into the garden every evening and listens as Harley speaks, asking questions every now and then with his little chalkboard. Harley can’t wait to build his robot, ready to hear Peter tell him a story of his own.

At long last, after two weeks of work, Harley finishes the robot, affectionately nicknamed “Capslock P.E.T.E.R.,” with Peter’s approval. He guides the spider into the clear container that serves as Capslock P.E.T.E.R.’s head before stepping back with bated breath to watch his genius play out.

“Hiya, Harley,” Peter/P.E.T.E.R. says, and Harley is nearly moved to tears. “I’m Peter.”

“I know,” Harley replies with a breathless laugh. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Peter replies, voice full of emotion that Harley had no idea an AI was capable of producing.

That evening, they go out to the garden, back to the clearing where they first technically met. Peter greets the garden robots as he trundles by, voice adorably becoming more enthusiastic as the robots chirp back. Harley just smiles fondly at the spider inside the robot, quietly regretting his failure to give Capslock P.E.T.E.R. a face, if only to see him smile back.

“I think it’s your turn to tell me a story,” Harley says, settling by the lake. P.E.T.E.R. rolls to a stop beside him.

“Okay,” he says. “Well, here it goes.”

Peter had once been Peter Benjamin Parker, a bright, young science nerd living in New York City with his aunt. He worked as an intern for Tony Stark, who found the boy after heavy surveillance of a masked vigilante who liked to web muggers up in a sticky, fluid substance of his own invention. “Spider-Man,” the media called him, though Tony preferred “Spider-Boy.”

Then, in a tragic twist of irony, Peter was actually bitten by a spider and somehow become a spider himself.

“Mr. Stark was beside himself. The whole thing was so bizarre, and he couldn’t figure it out. Dr. Banner thought it was radiation, but he attributes most unexplainable phenomena to radiation,” Peter explains.

Eventually, a wizard doctor guy Tony reluctantly called in a favor with figured it out. Harley wants to interrupt and ask what exactly he had figured it out, but Peter glosses over it and presses on. Apparently, Tony had been telling Harley’s Ma the story and she, remembering Harley’s affinity for spiders, had suggested that Tony send Peter down to Harley’s place. They wanted it to be a secret or for him to figure it out on his own or something, so they discreetly packaged Peter in the latest care package/equipment shipment they had sent down from New York.

“That was nearly a week before I found you!” Harley cries out, remembering.

Peter reminds him that “You had an engineering binge,” and Harley blushes, unapologetic.

Together, they sit in silence for a moment as Harley digests the story, which really was something straight out of a comic book. Then a thought occurs to him and he says, “Hey, what did that wizard doctor figure out?”

“Oh,” Peter says with poorly feigned surprise, as if he hadn’t wanted Harley to remember that little detail he left out. “Yeah, he figured out a cure.”

“There’s a cure?” Harley turns to face Capslock P.E.T.E.R. with excitement. “Peter, why didn’t you so? We have to fix this! Tell me, what can I do?”

Peter is quiet for a moment, and Harley begins to wonder if he’s said something wrong. “See, this curse or whatever is magic. And the only cure is a kiss. A true love’s kiss.”

Harley’s mind goes blank. True love?

Harley doesn’t believe in true love. He doesn’t buy into the whole soulmate idea. He moved out to a cabin in the middle of the woods with a heavily encrypted, unlisted address, condemning himself to a solitary lifestyle. He’s lonely, sure, but he likes it. He likes his space, his bots, his AI …

And Peter. He really, really likes Peter.

In the past couple of weeks, Peter has become an integral part of Harley’s life as his trusted companion and caretaker. He’s listened to all of Harley’s stories, and Harley wants nothing more than to hear all of Peter’s, get to know the boy beneath the arachnid body. As he thinks about it more, Harley can’t imagine a life without Peter in it, and maybe Peter’s not his true love — not yet, at least — but it’s worth a shot.

“Well then,” Harley says tentatively. “What are we waiting for?”

With shaking hands, he frees Peter from Capslock P.E.T.E.R.’s containment, smiling as the red and blue spider jumps eagerly into his hands. Harley raises his palm to his face, closes his eyes, and before he can think any more about it, he kisses the creature.

Immediately, Harley can feel the ripple of magic course through Peter’s body. The creature in his hands morphs until he’s cupping not a spider but the soft cheek of a boy whose lips are pressed gently against Harley’s. He opens his eyes at long last and pulls away, unable to contain a gasp at the sight of the boy-turned-spider-turned-boy-again, whom he’s come to love.

Peter wears what looks like a spandex suit, though it’s probably some fancy Stark tech, red and blue with black webbing all over it and a black spider emblem emblazoned on his chest. Harley assumes that the mask Peter mentioned is missing, but he’s glad for the fact as he drinks in Peter’s rosy cheeks and amber eyes and tousled brown curls that make Harley’s heart ache with yearning.

“Hi,” Peter says nervously in his own voice, not Capslock P.E.T.E.R.’s.

“Thank God you came back wearing clothes, because that would’ve made for a real awkward situation.” Harley wants to take back his words — which he hadn’t actually meant to say aloud, for goodness’s sake — as soon as he sees Peter’s eyes widen, but when the boy lets out a bark of surprised laughter, Harley relaxes, joining in. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“It’s okay. The first time I met Mrs. Potts, I ran into her — literally — and tried to say either ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘Nice to meet you’ but ended up blurting out ‘I’m sorry to meet you,’ instead. I just ran away. It was so embarrassing!”

Harley can’t help but to laugh again, leaning his head on Peter’s shoulder. Peter leans his head on top of his. They sit there together, in the clearing by the lake, where it all began, feeling completely at peace with the world and each other and their state of being.

“Thank you,” Harley says suddenly, grabbing hold of Peter’s hand.

“What for?”

“The efflorescence of love,” Harley replies, “and the gossamer that holds us together.”

Peter says nothing at that, just squeezes Harley’s hand tighter. Together, they watch the sunset, witness the way the world changes colors.

The world might be forever changing, but at the heart of it all sat two boys by a lake with the knowledge that through it all, they’d have each other.

And it would be enough.

“I died, and was born in the spring; / I found you, and loved you, again.”

— Mary Oliver, “Hummingbirds”

#parkner #harley keener #peter parker #spider-man #parley #fluff #fairy tale au #frog prince au #marvel #mcu #bella writes #prompt answer

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noncommited-writer · 5 years ago

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WARNING FFH SPOILERS!!

Basically all my thoughts!

Okay can we just talk about literally the beginning??????

'I Will Always Love You' memoirs??? Holy shit I was cackling but also crying inside when they showed pictures of Tony

Then the whole plan??? To get MJ??? Oh my god, I fucking melt. I want a man like Peter who will confess to me on top of the Eiffel Tower and buy me jewellery based on the shit I'm passionate about!!!!

Also, that scene at the shelter? When he becomes overwhelmed by the mention of Tony, I started to think he might have PTSD or some sort of knee jerk reaction whenever he hears his name. The way he was already teary eyed after swinging away. I couldn't deal with that.

Then the whole plan failing on the plane and oh my god the bathroom scene?? When he starts cleaning up oh my god that's just pure cinnamon roll Peter, I die I swear.

Theeen Betty and Ned???? OH MY GOD SUCH CUTIES!!!!!! AHHHHHH they were so fun to watch istg "babe?" "babe."

When they had the whole montage of Peter just trailing around MJ and being sulky over Brad like an adorable puppy. Then getting that necklace??? Ooooof ugh kill me with your cuteness istg.

Then the whole thing with Peter not having his suit with him??? And wearing that festival mask? Shit cracked me up

And dear god save this kid from the never ending concussions from the bell tower.

Then the whole conversation between Talos Fury and Peter in his hotel room. Literally two very different energies meeting to a head. It was glorious.

Also when they introduced Quentin?? I was like fucking shOOk. For two reasons

One because he was such a dramatic, unsubtle, little bitch talking about his family's death and praising Peter like Tony did!

For another, BECAUSE HE HAD LOWKEY DADDY ENERGY AROUND PETER AND THE WAY PETER LIGHTS UP WHENEVER HE PRAISES HIM OH MY GOD IT REMINDED ME SO MUCH OF HIM AND TONY. FUCK.

ALSO UNIVERSE 616?? CMON BITCH HOW DARE YOU PULL THAT STUNT. MARVEL YOU COP OUT! :(

Then the inevitable glasses. Dear lord. Fuck me up with the whole Iron dad (or starker) feels that whole scene gave off. My heart hurted.

Then that scene when he had to take off his clothes to wear his suit fUCK! Lowkey tho I felt hot. Then Brad walks in and then tells him he's gonna tell MJ?? Like who the fuck????

Then that bus scene. Oh my god, shit made me laugh so hard istg. When he punched Flash and actually had to web the freaking air strike drone he sent in!!!!!!! Hswhhdhhe Peter is a fuckin mess.

EDITH :(((((( even dead I'm the hero. My fucking feelings took a fucking dive. "He always did love his acronyms" and the way Peter just chuckles, looks away with tearing eyes, voice cracking as he says "Yeah he did"

God fucking damn it.

Istg Marvel is just playing with my feelings now. It's so fucking unfair.

And then that whole fighting scene with the Fire Elemental? When I saw one of the drone take the hit, I was like. Wait a fucking moment.

Also, I caught this thing where Mysterio's magic hits the windshield of Fury’s car but instead of cracks like it should be, I saw bullet holes. And I took a moment to notice that.

NIGHT MONKEY! NIGHT MONKEY!

Then that bar scene!!!! Jesus christ. That was a whirlwind of emotions. The way Peter's smile just dropped when Beck wore the glasses and saw Tony within him. God.

Also like those backstories????? Damn. Legit. I got no other words.

The way that Peter seemed soooo disappointed when MJ lied about the reason why she kept staring at him? Ugh my heart.

YAS GIRL DO IT FOR ALL OF US! TURN AROUND!!!! (Also what the fuck that cute little chub on Tom's tummy before he tenses up for the camera is so fucking cute oh my god I fucking melt, I wanna hug him)

"It's not a competition." Yea sure, Ned. Sure.

Holy fuck. Holy fuck. HOLY FUCK.

THAT WHOLE ILLUSION SCENE?

One of the best things ever. It reminded me so much of the intros to the James Bond movies. All the smooth transitions and stunning fx. Fuck. It was all trippy.

And jesus. Using MJ like that????

Also What The Actual Fuck. When he made an illusion of Tony rising from his grave.

When I saw that tombstone, I already knew what name on it was. Didn't make it easier to see it with my own eyes.

I cant with this movie its too much for my poor heart to take.

Jesus christ when he got hit by the train.fuck nylife.

Then happy?

Oh no, I actually pretty much died at this scene.

The way Peter was so desperate on who to trust and the way he just relaxed when he realised Happy wasn't an illusion. The way Happy just went with it immediately, having similar past experience with Tony's paranoia. The way he held Peter in his arms, confused but so so so worried. The way he takes care of Peter's wounds and tries to calm him down. The way Peter breaks down over being alone, his friends being in danger, hurt over MJ, not being enough to measure up to Tony, all of his emotions coming to head. That was probably the most grounding scene I've seen of Peter ever. It really hurt in all the best ways.

"You can't measure up to Tony. No one can. Not even Tony." That line was so good because he knows the weight thats on Peter's shoulders, he knows that Peter feels pressured to take on the world, unwavering and brave and so sure of himself like Tony was. But the truth is, Tony was exactly like him behind the scenes. Tony was always breaking down, lagging behind and alone. So when he sees Peter break down, it's like seeing Tony all over again. And he can't help but soften.

"I don't think Tony would have done what he did if he didn't know you were going to be here after he was gone." And that just shattered me. He basically said that Tony would've done it all over again if he knew Peter was going to come back.

That moment, when he stares at Peter, that moment when he notices something that twists and warms his heart at the same time. When he sees Peter handle that tech and holograms seamlessly like Tony did, the way he runs his mouth with his genius, the way he seems so excited over the tech, you can see in Happy's eyes that all he sees is Tony. Tony imprinting the best parts of himself onto Peter.

He knows Peter can handle it.

And jesus christ, baby no. Its not led zeppelin, cmon.

That whole fight scene was fucking lit! I can't really explain much but wow MJ!!!! GO MJ AND BETTY!!! AYYY.

Fuck and the way Peter used his Peter Tingle to fight off the rest of the drones. That was so cool. Then when illusion Beck was handing him the glasses, he already knew that it wasn't the real him.

That heartbroken look in his eyes when he realised he can't save Beck.

His voice cracking when he wants to know theres no more illusions.

That peck? That kiss? That makeout???? These two ooze so much chemistry it actually hurts.

Ahhh that hand brush and them actually holding hands!!!!! That!!!!!!

Then flash with his mother not being around comment, fuck that kinda hurt me in the feels.

Peter having an intervention with Happy and May???? Holy shit I need more of that.

Then that date? Where they swing??? Wow goals.

And fuck Peter getting exposed. I swear my heart dropped down to my stomach.

ALSO J JONAH JAMESON HOLY SHIT I WAS SHAKING BECAUSE OF THAT!!!!

Credits scene:

Fury taking a vacation but not really is such a mood. Like he'd like a vacation but he also has to work. Idk but it might be hinting at the next captain marvel movie!!!!

Ahhh

This movie is a treasure. I am most likely going to watch it again because wow. I don't think I can take it all in 100% without watching it twice.

I saw it only a few hours ago but I already love it with all my heart. ❤️

I cant believe Marvel has me hooked with their Peter Parker. ❤️❤️❤️

#Spiderman far from home #Spiderman far from home spoilers #Far from home spoilers #Spiderman ffh spoilers #Ffh spoilers

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rockshortage · 4 years ago

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SKILLS - Fallout OC Ask Prompt

Here it is, everything in one place. The questions I haven’t answered already in a different post are in bold so you can easily skip to those if you want.

now all in bold because it’s been a while since I posted this

Barter

1. How important is making money or acquiring wealth to your character? Do they even need it?

Hector generally makes do with what he has, but he sure as hell enjoys the monetary benefits to being Overboss. Finally he can indulge a bit, get a semblance of pre-war comforts back and invest the surplus to get the rest of Nuka World to that stage too. And also buy a bunch of shit he doesn’t need because he thinks it’s cool. And since part of the Overboss’ job is to flex on everyone once in a while, he allows himself to be a bit excessive sometimes.

2. Is your character quick to take care of others in need, or do they look out for themselves first and foremost?

If they’re a good friend, they almost always come first. With strangers/acquaintances, it depends a lot on the situation and on what people expect of him. He has trouble saying no, so if someone asks him for help, he’s not likely to leave them hanging. If not specifically asked, he’Il try to just kinda slip away undetected (which often works well because he doesn’t have much of a presence). Nothing is his business unless people make it so. He will feel bad about his inaction in various situations though.

3. What is something other than money that could make your character do something they otherwise wouldn’t want to do? What about something they otherwise really, really, really wouldn’t want to do?

He does a lot of things he doesn’t want to due to peer pressure or expectations people have of the Overboss.

For the latter, if his own safety or the safety of someone or something he really cares about is seriously threatened. Blackmail, basically. Or if it’s something that someone he cares about would really appreciate. Like this is their lifelong dream and Hector can make it reality if he just does this thing that he absolutely does not want to do. He’d do that.

Energy Weapons

4. Does your character prefer high-tech or low-tech solutions to problems?

High-tech if there is time for it, as that usually takes longer than the equivalent of hitting the problem with a rock. He’s a techy guy, solving problems using his field of expertise is fun and rewarding, so that’s what he’ll usually try to do. But sometimes he can’t argue with the simplest solution often being the best.

5. What does your character think about pre-war society?

Hard to say since I haven’t really worked out what the heck he was doing pre-war and how much he remembers of it. But he’s always been rather isolated, whether that be of his own choice or a result of his conditions. Which means he doesn’t care all that much about society and whatever it’s up to again. He’s just trying to vibe in his own little space. I can’t imagine him being happy that they started a war though. He doesn’t regret the loss of society as much as he regrets the loss of the comforts and luxuries it brought him. Existential dread about the world ending bad but not worrying about more immediate threats to his life in the form of wasteland inhabitants good.

6. Is your character easily exhaustible? Are they normally an energetic person or more lethargic? If the former, what would reduce them to the latter; if the latter, what would excite them into the former?

It’s not that he’s easily exhaustible, he’s got rather good endurance and drive. It’s just that he is exhausted most of the time, due to his sleep issues. So his default state is generally on the lethargic side, but he has bursts of energy. Be that finding the fun in clearing the parks and destroying shit, or less noticeably when he’s engrossed in a project.

Explosives

7. How does your character express anger? Do they have a short temper, do they bury their rage until they burst, or can they handle it well?

He usually buries it, at least for the moment. Put on a pokerface and then release his anger later with the help of loud music or going out into the wastes and destroying some shit. There are exceptions, where he loses his shit on the spot, the main one being someone ‘hurting’ MAAK.

8. Does your character have any particular pet peeves that irritate them?

Way too fucking many to list – once he notices that is. The only reason he doesn’t spend every second of being around other people angry is that he’s often kind of oblivious or anxious, which makes him self-centered and not notice the little things people are doing around him.

I think I named a few examples in another ask meme, such as excessive public displays of affection and loud/open mouthed chewing. Here’s another one: when someone uses a lot abbreviations and acronyms and assumes everyone will just know what they mean. It’s often a cultural thing and therefore most if not all people around him will know, but Hector can’t ask ‘what does this mean’ 7 times in one conversation because then he’ll look stupid but he literally cannot follow this conversation anymore which will also make him look stupid if someone catches onto it and this could have all been avoided if they said actual words instead of nonsensical amalgamations of letters and ARGH.

9. Is there anything that anyone who knows better should avoid bringing up to your character (i.e., any conversational landmines)?

I was gonna say criticism about MAAK, but if I’m getting this right, ‘anyone who knows better’ means they have some form of positive relationship with Hector. So I’m not sure this applies all that well. They’d still have to be careful around the subject because he takes this kind of thing personally very quickly, but if they are an acquaintance or friend, he will be a bit more lenient instead of like… trying to fistfight them on the spot. Maybe he’ll let a comment slide or calmly remind them to Not Speak Their Mind about this. Seriously. Back Off From This Topic And We Won’t Have A Problem.

Can’t think of any better examples right now, file it under pending character development :V

Guns

10. What is your character’s weapon of choice? Are they good in a fight, whether armed or not?

He prefers to be far away from his target and pick them off before a fight can really break out, so his go to is a sniper rifle. Though he hasn’t (or rather I haven’t) found ‘the one’ yet. It’s a dilemma between ballistics, which are more fun to shoot, and energy weapons, which have little to no recoil and are therefore much easier to handle (and because technology cool). It’s probably going to be a heavily modified laser/plasma/gauss rifle of some kind.

He’s not very good when it gets to close range. He has to end the fight as quickly as he can, put some distance between himself and his opponent, or just try to outlast them by dodging/absorbing hits until they tire themselves out.

11. Has your character ever killed anyone purely in cold blood?

I might just be dumb but I’m having genuine trouble deciding what counts as cold blood and what doesn’t. Since Hector frequents raider circles where murder is almost normalized, I feel like the definition of it gets much more narrowed down, which means there’s a chance he’s never actually killed someone by strict definition of ‘cold blood’ (without emotion or mercy). From a non-raider, upstanding citizen viewpoint though? All the fucking time.

(Technically obsolete since I rewrote the answer, but I’ll leave this here anyway: Say, he has to lead a raid on a settlement – the people there have done nothing wrong, but they’re on turf that one of the gangs really wants, and Hector hasn’t been able to convince them to just leave. So they have to die, and Hector has to set an example to keep the respect of the gangs. He’ll do it, but it’s shitty and he’ll feel awful, their terrified faces and dying breaths haunt him for a while. From an outside perspective, he killed them in cold blood. But on the inside, Hector isn’t emotionless about it at all, it doesn’t feel good, it wasn’t fun, he’s full of regret and he dreads the next time he has to do this again.)

12. What are your character’s opinions on war? Is it something necessary or barbaric, or both? Do they believe in noble conflict or the existence of “a good war?”

As with many things, he can be swayed in either direction, depending on the circumstances, the people around him, and his own memories. Sometimes he thinks it’s a necessary means to an end, might even go as far as to glorify certain aspects of it – as long as he has the outside perspective. When he’s actually involved himself and everything gets too close for comfort, he’ll see how ugly of an affair it really is and regret that he ever condoned any of it. …until he forgets again.

Lockpick

13. Does your character prefer careful finesse or brute force in most situations?

Careful finesse, definitely. It really frustrates him to watch people trying to brute force something that would be solved so much easier if they just showed a little care.

14. How greedy is your character? Would they scavenge anything and everything they can carry from someplace “just in case”, or only ever take what they know they need?

By that definition, very greedy. But like, why go out to scavenge ruins and not take everything you see? Are you really gonna leave half the stuff just in case some other scavenger maybe comes across it at some point later? Nah, you take that shit and then have Gage pressure you into selling the surplus later even though you wanna keep it, there’s still a little bit of room in the storage, come on, Porter don’t be like this

15. What is your character’s most prized possession, and where do they keep it?

Does MAAK count? Because MAAK definitely is his pride and joy. He keeps MAAK with him as much as he can. And most likely his preferred weapon, once I figure out what it is exactly.

Medicine

16. How does your character tolerate pain? How do they handle stress and trauma?

He tolerates pain very well in the moment it happens initially. It’s not always out of survival instinct and such like I’ve specified previously, sometimes it’s just sheer embarrassment / anxiety. When he gets hurt while people see, his immediate instinct is “it’s fine, i’m fine, nothing to see here” and then he’ll go hide somewhere and decide for real if it’s actually fine or not.

He handles the aftermath of injuries a lot less well. You know the cliché of men being much more sensitive to pain/sickness than women and just being very noticeable in their misery? That’s Hector once he’s back in the safety of his home and recovering from his injuries. (usually MAAK is on the receiving end of his suffering but unfortunately for Gage it’s more satisfying to lament at someone who can actually react)

17. Does your character have any habits? Any tics, fixations, rituals, superstitions, or dependencies?

Totally. Hector is very much a creature of habit and it takes real effort to get him out of his comfort zone. He’d absolutely have a tic or two but I can’t come up with anything specific that isn’t just randomly made up. I’m thinking something along the lines of fixing his clothing a lot, like pulling at his gloves checking his collar, etc. But it’s nothing solid, so I’ll leave that aside for now.

A daily (if possible) ritual is writing in his journal. It helps him retain information and gives him some peace of mind that even if he forgets, he’ll be able to look it up again.

No superstitions (or none that I can think of). He loves to challenge superstitions actually, because it’s all complete and utter bullshit to him. This is actually one of the rare cases he does not care to think of people’s feelings first and can be a total dick on purpose. Oh you’re scared bad things will happen if I do this? Haha fuck you, not only will I open this umbrella inside, I will also smash a mirror with it and specifically point out to you that I am not knocking on wood.

18. What’s something that always makes your character feel better (physically, emotionally, mentally)?

A nice warm shower and sleeping in a clean bed afterwards. Being outside at night when it’s a little chilly and dark enough so he can take off his mask or other clothing items. Bonus points when there’s a campfire, so the lighting is nice and it’s just a little bit spooky, and he’s able to feel warmth on his skin without being burned. Being around MAAK, baby talking to him, cleaning his chassis, feeding him some trash. Listening and singing along to his favorite music.

Melee Weapons

19. What does it take to motivate your character to violence? Do they try to avoid violence as much as possible, are they willing and able to instigate violence, or are they even outright bloodthirsty?

Necessity is his main motivator. He tries to avoid violence as much as he can (in most scenarios), but he also won’t always bend over backwards to find a peaceful solution to everything. Instigating it is kinda difficult for him though, it’s so much easier if the other one attacks first and he can react in self defense.

20. How resourceful is your character? How adept are they at improvising with things around them or repurposing random junk into valuables, weapons, or tools?

Now this is something he excels at, mostly when there’s tech involved. Don’t just destroy turrets and robots, change their targeting parameters so they fight for him instead. Rig one up to explode and let it run into crowds of enemies. Have a speaker emit a frequency that either attracts or repels wildlife and ferals. Use that highly dangerous power line to electrocute a gatorclaw. Set up a whole grid that’ll fry the ferals or bloodworms. So many options.

21. Does your character have any comfort objects that they prefer to keep on their person as much as possible, or frequently hold in their hand just to hold it?

MAAK unfortunately does not fit in his pocket, so keeping him around at all times is more complicated. Maybe I’ll figure out some small comfort object at some point because I like the idea, but for now it’s just good old impractical emotional support robot MAAK.

Repair

22. What is your character’s single most handy trait or skill?

Engineering/robotics.

23. How concerned is your character with practicality? Are they more down-to-earth, grounded, or focused on necessity, or are they more of a dreamer, indulgent, or reckless?

More of the latter. Simple and practical things are good and all, and he’s often satisfied enough with them. But what really sparks joy is going above and beyond and just kinda off the wall sometimes. He has the resources now instead of having to just scrape by on the bare necessities, so why wouldn’t he take that opportunity??

24. How quick is your character to forgive? Are they able to earn forgiveness from others easily?

In theory, he’s the type to hold grudges. In practice, he has bad memory and sometimes forgets who wronged him or why.

Earning forgiveness doesn’t come super easy because he’s bad at communication. He shoves problems and issues aside because confronting them is uncomfortable. Even if he feels bad about X thing he did to Y person and he could just apologize.

Science

25. What kind(s) of intelligence would you say that your character does and does not have?

Thanks to a different meme I learned of the nine types of intelligence, so I’ll use those here:

High: Logical-mathematical, linguistic, spatial

Medium: musical, bodily-kinesthetic, naturalistic

Low: intrapersonal, interpersonal, existential

26. What kinds of things fascinate your character? Do they have any personal interests that aren’t necessarily practical, but that they just like?

A whole lot of things he’s interested in aren’t exactly practical. Those things are generally in the realm of book smarts, which can be useful, but often don’t have direct applications to his job or survival in general. e.g. knowing how nuclear fusion works on an atomic level is great and all but that deathclaw does not care and only wants to eat you

27. Does your character appreciate a good puzzle, or any other kind of intellectual or strategic challenge (e.g. Sudoku, chess)?

Yeah! Mostly the things he can do on his own though or things that are at least cooperative. There’s a considerable inhibition level when it comes to competitive strategy games like chess, but if ‘forced’ into a round he’d probably end up enjoying it.

Sneak

28. How does your character handle being alone in a wide-open space, being one of many in a large crowd, and being stuck with someone else one-on-one?

Alone in wide-open spaces: hell yeah

Large crowds: hell no please get him out of there asap

One-on-one: this is ok, he can deal with this. If it’s the right person he’ll even enjoy himself.

29. How does your character behave when nobody else is around? How does this differ from how they act around strangers, friends, or lovers?

When no one is around and no one can hear him, he tends to be the most energetic, coming out of his shell. He’ll turn up the music, sing along loudly, dance around, do theatrics. Have in depth discussions about this or that with MAAK, an inanimate object, or himself. Or on the flip side just vibing quietly and comfortably.

Some of that carries over once high enough friendship levels are gained. Strangers on the other hand are not allowed to see that side of him, no, he’s just a quiet and uninteresting guy, nothing to see here.

Lovers? What’s that

30. Suppose your character just wants to disappear; where would they want to disappear to?

Far Harbor looks tempting.

Speech

31. What does your OC sound like? What is the tone of their voice, their cadence, and their vocabulary; are they particularly profane or eloquent? Are they funny, and if so, what’s their sense of humor? Are they long-winded or do they speak little, and if it’s the latter, is that only because they’re concise or is it because they have genuine trouble speaking?

His voice is on the deep side but not remarkably so. He generally speaks in a soft manner, but he can get surprisingly loud for a man of his stature. Vocabulary is all over the place. He has a tendency to be formal and use big words, but then the next moment he’s trying to describe the thingy and the stuff with the some such and whatever, like fuck man, speaking hard.

He has a case of the dad humor. Some people will find that funny, some will not find it funny but a bit endearing, and others will find it not funny and incredibly aggravating. His jokes are generally innocent enough, but he can get dark too. Usually rather dry.

How little or how much he speaks depends entirely on the situation and the topic. He rattles on endlessly about Science and has an unfortunate tendency to mansplain. But when he’s not super passionate about something, it’s just whatever. If he doesn’t feel like he has anything of value to add, he just keeps quiet.

32. Is your character a good liar, or can they manipulate people well? Are they able to conceal what they mean or what they’re feeling, or are they an open book whether they mean to be or not?

He’s quite good at withholding information, but not at straight up lying to someone’s face. His entire attire helps a lot with concealing his feelings or intent. Having no visible facial expressions and a robotic modulated voice allow him to come across as cold and distant, downright emotionless to people who don’t know him or don’t know him well (with a bit of practice). That said, he wouldn’t even know where to start at attempting to manipulate someone.

Hector can be hard to figure out, but once you invest some time and effort into doing that (like Gage was forced to), he’s pretty much an open book in most situations.

33. What is something that could be said to your character that would be unforgivable, either by someone in general or by someone specific? How would they respond?

This is hard. Hector gets insulted / hurt fairly easily and tends to hold onto that negativity longer than he should, but all that mostly stems from his low self-esteem. And it’s rarely stuff that cuts so deep that a continued relationship / association is unthinkable. If Gage was to make it clear to Hector that making him Overboss was actually a horrible mistake and he almost wishes he had Colter back? Oof, ouch, that hurts a lot, but like… he’s not wrong. Gage knows what he’s talking about and Hector never was the perfect man for the job, nor did he want it. Yeah he was trying really hard and maybe he thought he was making good progress, but if Gage says it’s not enough, then it’s not enough.

Before I go too far off track – I’m not sure there’s really one thing someone can say that would be unforgivable. If there is, it would definitely have to be someone Hector trusts / trusted. But actions speak much louder than words. Gage saying he wishes for a different boss is one thing. It hurts but it’s a fair sentiment and doesn’t change the fact that they still have to work together. But Gage actively replacing him, spitting on all their hard work and throwing whatever relationship they had into the trash in the process? There’s no going back to normal after that.

Survival

34. How well does your character take care of themselves in the wilderness? Do they feel most at home in the wilderness, small settlements, or densely inhabited areas? Are there any particular reasons why that is?

As much as Hector likes keeping to himself, he’s not the type of survivor to go out into the deepest wilderness. He could survive out there, but his quality of life would probably be pretty bad. His ideal place would be near a small settlement, within comfortable enough walking distance but not really part of it. He can go into town maybe once a week for supplies and just be alone in his humble abode the rest of the time.

35. What kind of diet does your character keep? Is it more indiscriminate, or picky or particular? Are they good cooks, whether in a kitchen or by a fire? Do they think of food as simple sustenance, or do they appreciate indulgent dishes and finer flavors? Do they have a favorite food?

He's not a picky eater by any means. He will eat what’s on the table and not complain, unless it’s like actually rotting. His cooking is fine, of course until he gets creative with it and makes questionable combinations happen. But what I didn’t mention there is that he only rarely gets the chance to do some train wreck cooking. Usually he does have to treat food as just fuel that lets him go about his day due to the impracticality of having to wear a mask and not being able to take it off during the daytime. And it’s rather difficult to find an interior that reliably lets no sunlight in among all the ruins of the wasteland. When he’s on the road, he quite often just has to go find a reasonably dark corner in which to crouch down and cram in a nutrient bar like some kind of feral man who hasn’t eaten in a week.

36. What keeps your character going? What is the one thing that they have that could motivate them to keep persisting if they lost literally everything else?

There is not one sole thing. Hector has to find drive and motivation in anything at all, because what other choice does he have? There’s no real sense of purpose or meaning to life for someone like him, and he prefers not to think about it too much (or rather not at all). Currently, it’s the friendships he’s made. His responsibilities as Overboss. Whatever little project is on his mind right now. And when all is lost, he has to bide his time, wait until he forgets whatever or whoever he’s grieving. Then it’s back to the same old.

Unarmed

37. How good is your character with their hands or fingers? Do they have a light, gentle touch, or are they hard or uncoordinated? Does your character have any dexterous talents?

Light and gentle, his manual dexterity is above average but nothing outlandish. Just someone who works with his hands a lot and developed his skill accordingly.

38. Is your character physically expressive or do they make a lot of gestures (i.e. do they “talk with their hands”), and if so, what kinds of gestures do they make?

He’s fairly expressive with his hands – less when he’s in an uncomfortable social situation and more when he’s going off about science. It’s a way for him to compensate for the lack of facial expressions. Can’t go that deep yet to name specific actions.

39. Does your character like to be touched or touch others? How does your character value personal space? What kinds of boundaries, physical and otherwise, are important to your character?

In general, no, no touching, keep away, personal space radius is higher than most people’s. Also don’t like, ask him about his day or feelings too much. He’s open about his feelings on his own volition but shrivels up in ‘I don’t know how to communicate’ when specifically prompted. I can imagine there’s a situation of him being severely touch starved going on here, but I’m unsure how much it would take to get him to accept / feel comfortable with physical touch, let alone crave it. In the meantime, he can go hug an animal. Mason always knows when Hector’s particularly sad/emotional because that’s when he comes to the zoo to hug a furry creature. Yes MAAK is his emotional support robot and absolutely his number 1 go-to for that, but sometimes the cold metal of a robot just doesn’t cut it. Sometimes he needs something that’s equally pure of heart but warm and alive

#ask meme #yeet it is done #after this has been up for a while #i'll probably bold all the questions #or none #if i remember to do it #hector messerli #hector ref

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analvelocity · 4 years ago

Text

Rubbernecks

This is a submission I wrote for @thewebcomicsreview‘s “Write a Story You Worthless Piece of Shit”, a writing prompt meme with prompts silly enough that I wanted to try my hand at one of them. I realized I haven’t written any prose recently and I felt the itch, so thanks Daniel for giving me an excuse to go mad in front of a Word Doc for way too many hours.

This one, uh, got away from me, but I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope people have at least half as much fun reading it. The prompt I chose was as follows: A middle-aged southern redneck truck driver finds the legendary Kitsune-Neko Katana, the only weapon that can save the world from an invading alien race.

You can find all 4,600+ words of Rubbernecks below the cut.

ANALVELOCITY DOT TUMBLR PRESENTS: RUBBERNECKS

Bobby cracked open the window and felt the now-cooling Mohave air ripple through his cap. As the sun hid once more behind the end of the road, he took off his aviators and hooked them over the top button of his shirt. It was going to be one of the long ones, he could feel it. Just him and the white lines 20 feet ahead of him as he directed 40 tons of cargo through the dusty blackness. This was home to him, and if he was one of those strange monk fellers, he’d much rather be meditatin’ here than on a mountaintop. It was for this reason he chose to leave his radio off, letting the breeze whip his ears at 65 miles an hour as he breathed a sigh of contentment.

This was the life. No Garth Brooks or radio chatter to disturb his personal zen. Always the feelin’ of progress, feelin’ like no matter where you’re gon’ end up, you’ll be right where yer’ meant ta be. When all was said an’ done, there was nothin’ more peaceful than- BOOM. A ripple shook his steel cocoon as he felt an electric shock run from his toes to the last remnants of his hairline. Stunned for a moment, he glanced to his right as he saw blames bellowing out of a line of Joshua Trees running about half a mile of the highway. He could feel ol’ Bessie begin to wobble and shake, and Bobby knew that was a sure sign that he should pull up. As Bobby stepped out of the truck, he felt a blast of hot air lash at his face. He reached into one of the back pockets of his jeans and pulled out a crumpled box of cigarettes. He felt around his pockets. Nothing. He looked up at the door, then again at the bent cigarette in his mouth. With a sigh, he walked up to one of the nearby burning plants and lit it. As he took a couple of puffs and surveyed the landscape, he saw it. At the end of the trail of flame, a series of blinking lights. Now Bobby here was no Boy Scout, but he knew Morse Code when he saw it. “Prob’ly one of them there Wright Brothers types gettin’ ambitious.” He chuckled to himself as he began to walk toward the lights. Far as Bobby was concerned, the ground was good enough for him. His eyes began to readjust to the darkness as he approached the source of the fire. His eyes widened. That was no airplane. The flaming ball of chrome sticking out of the cracked earth before him looked like it had no doors or windows, but as he stepped around it he noticed a single hole burned through what he presumed was the side of it. He inspected the hole, and realized that whatever shot this thing, used some serious hardware. The kind of hardware Jimmy One-Eye would probably give his left nut just ter’ get a look at. Bobby had dealt with more busted radiators in his time than he could count, so he knew this thing was goin’ to be too hot to touch. Still, he left his gloves and kit in the truck, and he needed to get this cargo to LA before morning so he wasn’t interested in staying any longer than he needed to. Bobby’s task was simple - see if there were any survivors, and leave the rest to whatever guvamint acronym dealt with flaming sky eggs. No time to get this engine back runnin’, assumin’ this thing even had an engine.

Wrapping his baseball cap around his right hand, he tested the egg by poking it. Cold to the touch. Cautiously, he put the hat back on his head and placed his bare hand on the surface of the object. A series of beeps. Some more flashing lights. A ripple in the surface, and then beginning to shudder and groan. Bobby stepped back.

The shuddering began to grow and grow in intensity, shivering and rippling as it morphed into alien shapes. Bobby stepped back once more.

Then it stopped. Then it made a tiny, almost imperceptible dinging sound. Then it spat out a girl. At this point Bobby didn’t know how to react. But if he didn’t the egg sure didn’t either as it flung the girl several feet in the air, landing her face-first with a thud at his feet. Bobby leaned over and checked her pulse. He couldn’t feel anything. He rolled her on to her back. She looked Asian, that much he was sure, and covered in deep lacerations and burns from head to toe.

She seemed young, definitely too young to be out of high school. She wore a short blue skirt, the kind of short that would make the most progressive mother clutch her pearls. A white shirt that seemed way too small, exposing her belly button. An odd-looking boy scout necktie that seemed to glow in the dark. She looked like one of those girl hero types that he caught lil’ Jenny watchin’ back at home from time to time. And in her hand, the most absurd looking blade he’d ever seen in his life.

It was long thin blade, with what looked like nine fox tails working as a guard at the hilt. Several inscriptions of cats, were engraved on the blade, each one glowing a searingly bright pink.

“Well that there’s a bit fruity, ain’t it.” He reached down to check her pulse. Nothing. Bobby furrowed his brow. He took his hat back off and wiped the sweat off his forehead. With a sigh, he reached for the sword clasped in her hand and picked it up. What happened after was immediate. The girl’s clothes shifted into some kind of modest private school uniform. But more frighteningly, Bobby felt a surge of energy flow through the sword. Bobby’s world shook, and then everything went black.

********

“Wake up, Chosen-Senpai.”

Bobby shuddered awake to see a blurry figure standing over him. As his eyes adjusted to the bright lights around him, he sat up and felt the shallow pools of water rippling between his fingers. “I ain’t in the Mojave anymore.” As he looked around him, he could see the girl more vividly now. The same girl he pulled from the wreckage, but strangely uninjured.

“Very astute of you, Senpai.” Bobby eyed her with a mix of scorn and confusion. He looked at her, she looked at him. After what felt like half a minute of waiting for the other to say something, Bobby decided to break the ice. “Where ar-“ “The sword holds the past lives of all who have wielded it before. This is the realm where the Chosen meet, to share their combined knowledge and experience with the Hero who wields it.” Bobby’s eyebrow slowly raised. “Who ar-“ “My name is Sakura. Heiress to the GenkiNeko toy chain, forty-seventh wielder of the Neko-Kitsune sword, slayer of the Kawaiiju. I will be your spirit guide on your journey as you continue my work, as the previous owners of the sword have done before me.” Bobby stood up. “Now wait here missy, I ain’t about t-“ “You are the forty-eighth wielder of the Neko-Kitsune sword. It is your destiny.” “I’m a trucker. The only destiny I got is-” “Listen, old man, I like this even less than you do. But the Kawaiiju aren’t going to stop with me. Whether you like it or not, you will need to face them.” Bobby laughed. “Let’s see how these illegal immig’rints handle the 12-gauge I got in the back. I don’t need no’ gay knife fer’ tha-“ “Your shotgun will have no impact on the Kawaiiju, Senpai. Only the sword can pierce their flesh” “Well ain’t that convenient.” Bobby was stunned for a second. He actually finished a sentence with this crazy woman. “What-“ “You must take the sword and follow your path. The sword is just a blade in your hands now, but the Power of Friendship will ignite the Neko-Kitsune Sword’s true power.” “No.” “What?” “I’m not goin’ ter do it. I don’t even know what you want me ter do-“ “You have no choice. It is your destiny.” Bobby scoffed. “Lady, this here?” he gestured to the void surrounding them. “This is America. And it’s my gosh-durned right to do whatever I want. That’s the American wa-” Sakura rolled her shoulders backward and groaned into the sky. “Burgerland, of course. Why did I have to crash here?” Bobby chuckled, looked at the sword still clasped in his hand, then smiled. “Listen, Say-koo-ruh. What if I take this thing to the nearest truck-stop and give it to the first teenager that rolls by?” She paused, pinching her chin between her thumb and forefinger. “That, uh, might work? But there’s a pro-”

“Good, it’s settled then. Now I don’t want ter hear any more of this talk about Nee-Koes and Keet-Soons and Cow-Why-Juice, you hear me?” She shrugged, an almost resigned smirk on her face. “Fine. But when what happens happens, make sure you keep the blade nearby. The last think we need is humanity’s last hope in the hands of an alien invader.”

Bobby shrugged dismissively, and for a while the two stood there for a moment in awkward silence.

“So what the heck is a Sen-Pi-“

********

Bobby shuddered awake, sweating. He checked his watch. Damn, he’d been snoozing out here for 15 minutes. If his boss called in while he was out here, that was probably comin’ out of his paycheck.

“Strange dream.”

He looked around. The sword was still in his hand, but the body was gone. Bobby decided it was probably best not to question it, as he shrugged and made his way back to the truck. On the way, he considered throwing the sword away, but something prevented him.

“Could probably get gas money selling this to a scrapyard.” Bobby chuckled. In fact, now that he thought about it, that didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

By the time Bobby was settling back into the driver’s seat, he’d already decided on the place – a scrapper mentioned by Billy-Bob in the Trucker’s Network just off the beaten track. And better yet – still on the way to LA.

The past hour, he thought, must have been a hallucination. There were certainly enough engine fumes to rationalize that as such, but a Japanese schoolgirl? That one was certainly new. A pang hit him as he warmed up the engine – was this guilt? Bobby quickly brushed the feeling aside as he pressed his foot against that familiar accelerator.

********

thru-thrum.

A few hours had passed, and a strange feeling washed over Bobby as the white lines on the empty road began to blur together. Hair standing at the back of his neck. A chill of… anticipation? He pushed it aside as he reached to the passenger seat for another cig- hang on, was the sword glowing?

thru-thrum. One eye on the road, he looked across the car and sure enough, leaning against the glovebox was that girly blade. The inscriptions were now pulsing, but the blade itself was now glowing with a pink hue that was growing steadily brighter. This time, Bobby knew he wasn’t hallucinating. thru-thrum. thru-thrum. “The Kitsune-Neko senses her prey. The hunt begins.”

That familiar voice.

THRU-THRUM. THRU-THRUM.

“But who is the hunter, and who the hunted?”

“Oh fuck me! Now I’m hearin’ the dead!” THRU-THRUM. THRU-THRUM.

Bobby wiped the sweat off his brow. His head was pounding. His hands were shaking. And then, in the corner of his eye, he glanced something in his rear-view mirror. Something advancing. His eyes widened as terror ripped the breath from his throat.

THRU-THRUM. THRU-THRUM. THRU-THRUM.

Something giant was slithering along the road at an incredible speed, steadily, advancing on ol’ Bessie. Like a Beanie Baby fucked a Kraken. And it looked livid. Bobby didn’t think. He punched the gas and picked up the microphone on the CB Radio. Shaking, he clicked the button and spoke. “10-33, 10-33. This is Freebird, callin’ from the Interstate 40 en route to Shakytown.” He paused for a moment. “10-33 please respond.” Static. Second after uncomfortable second rolled by. And then, a familar;

“5 by 5, this is the Ludlow Watering Hole. What’s your situation? Over.” He breathed a sigh of relief. But that relief was fleeting as the spectre loomed over his rear-view. But now he knew Maeve was in town. This varmint was gon’ find out the meaning of Southern Hospitality. “I’m about 20 minutes east of your position. I got the hammer down and a bogey on my tail. I need all the drivers you have. And guns. As many as you got. Over.”

A moment.

“Copy that. I’ll contact the boys. You know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” Another sigh of relief. “Oh, and Freebird? Welcome back. Over.” Bobby hung up the mic and glanced at his rear-view. Yep, definitely close now. Whatever he was going to do, he would have to do it fast. And hopefully Maeve wasn’t dragging her feet. THRU-THRUM. THRU-THRUM. THRU-THRUM.

The sound was very loud now, the sword to his right now shimmering with light, shivering like it was itchin’ for a fix of the good stuff. And that’s when he saw the sign - Fender Joe’s House of Scrap. A lightbulb moment – if he was gon’ take this thing on, with or without the Trucker Network, one of them was gon’ die in that metal graveyard. He twisted the steering wheel to the left, and felt Bessie tilt with him. But Bobby knew Bessie like she was his second wife. And with a flourish, the truck righted itself as he flew through the exit. The pursuer was not as elegant, slamming itself into the wall of a nearby overpass, splattering glowing technicolor blood. But the blood stopped in midair, and rushed back to its host as the tentacled monstrosity regained its composure and resumed its pursuit. As it did, the radio once more crackled into life. “10-8, 10-8. Freebird, we have some boys heading to your position. What is your situation with the bogey? Over.” Bobby had never been so overjoyed to hear anyone speak over that radio. He picked the mic back up. “10-4. I’m about to dig in at Fender Joe’s. Get here as quick as possible. 4-10? Over.” A moment.

“Negatory, you’re a Mud Duck. Please repeat, over.”

“I said, I’m at Fender J-“ The truck slammed through the gates of the scrapyard as he hit the brakes. Carefully adjusting the steering wheel, he shifted the handbrake and the truck whipped around, skidding through the clay for tens of feet before glancing the piles of old whitegoods littering the compound. No time to think. Bobby reached behind his seat and pulled out his 12-Gauge and a few boxes of ammo. “This is going to be Freebird’s last stand.” He thought as he stepped out of the truck and turned to face the entrance. His rearview told him that objects may be larger than they appear. That was a gosh-durned understatement. The Kawaiiju before him stood at least 20 feet tall, with a mass of tentacles ripping through the fence as it advanced on him. As the creature drew closer, he could faintly hear the sound of… was that meowing? “Okay, I know you’re new to this country so lemme teach you somethin’ about the Second Amendment!” he shouted at the creature, as he unloaded two shotgun shells directly into its My Little Pony-lookin’ face. It doubled back and made a high-pitched, ear-piercing shriek, and then rearranged its face back into its original shape. Bobby laughed. Clearly this thing didn’t get the memo, he thought to himself as he popped some new shells into his gun. He was preparing his next one-liner when an errant tentacle whipped him, sending the man careering into a pile of old toasters.

********

“Ergh… Just give me a sec” he said to the figure looming over him. It took a moment for his clearly concussed brain to register that a familiar Japanese girl was standing over him. He fumbled around helplessly on his bed of toasters for a moment until he looked across the compound, realizing that his shotgun was currently sinking into the creature’s bags of flesh.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed. Hearing him, the creature whipped around and began rushing toward him.

“Reach out your arm.”

“What?”

“Just do it. And say, ‘Neko Neko Nii!’” “WHAT?”

The creature was once again looming over him now.

“Just do it!”

Bobby blushed and gritted his teeth. “Argh! Neko Neko Nii!”

The Kawaiiju raised a clawed tentacle in the air, and slammed it down above him. SHWING!

Bobby opened his eyes. Somehow, he was still alive. With a pink sword in his hand, held above his head. The creature’s tentacle sliced clean off, wriggling limply on the toaster bed at his side. Sakura laughed. “I can’t believe you actually said that.” Bobby didn’t have time to think. Primal survival instinct kicked in as he shot up, grabbing the hilt of the blade with both hands as he slashed at tentacle after tentacle that whipped at him. And one by one, they all fell. The Kawaiiju roared mightily once more as it threw its full weight at Bobby, who ducked to the side and with one swift uppercut, slashed right through the creature’s torso. Neon blood spewed everywhere, coating Bobby as he wiped the goo from his eyes. The Kawaiiju was hurting now, that’s for sure. “Yeah! How’d you like that?” The creature stood still for a second, then the blood once more began to return to its body, peeling itself from the toasters, the sword, and Bobby himself. Sakura, still standing with her thumbs hooked into the pockets of her blazer, looked on at this with mild bemusement. The tentacles wriggled back into life as they crawled like worms back to their host, reattaching themselves to the sockets as Bobby looked on in horror. He clutched the sword and held it before him. “All right girl, you said this sword could kill these things. Why isn’t this working?” “I told you before, didn’t I?” “Tell me wha-“ he failed to ask as one tentacle, now balled into a fist, slammed him in the face, knocking him to the ground. He could only look on disorientedly as the blade skittered off and disappeared into a pile of refrigerators. He reached out. “Neko Neko Nii!” Nothing. “Neko Neko Nii!” he shouted. The Kawaiiju almost seemed to cackle as it readied itself for the killing blow. “Well Bobby, I guess you were going to die someday.” he said to himself as he relaxed his body and closed his eyes, allowing himself to embrace the void. Six tentacles raised into the air as the creature gurgled with something adjacent to laughter.

It was at that moment that a truck burst through the entrance of the scrapyard, careering through the mud to collide face-first with the creature. Once more it shrieked as it exploded into that glowing rainbow bodily fluid that Bobby was becoming uncomfortably accustomed to.

Dazed, Bobby looked to his side, and shouted out a hoo-rah as five trucks circled around the interior of the compound, before trying to get up once more. Several familiar faces emerged from the doors, each one more heavily-armed than the last. And last, stepping out of the truck that saved him, was a heavy-set woman holding an LMG like one would hold a briefcase. “Just in the nick of time, hey Freebird!” Bobby smiled, pumping his fist into the air as he righted himself. “Maeve! And not a moment too soon! Good to see you babe.” “Now Bobby, you wanna try saying that again?” she said, tapping the LMG with her other hand like a used car dealer would slap a car. “Point taken. Eyes up, everybody, because this ain’t over.” Maeve frowned. “You sure about that? This situation is lookin’ pretty handled over-“ It was at that moment that the truck flipped into the air, spinning into the other trucks as the Kawaiiju revealed itself once more, enraged. Maeve stepped back, shocked for a moment at what she was seeing, and readied her machine gun. “All right boys, let’s show this rubberneck what happens when you mess with the Trucker Network!” The team nodded in acknowledgement as they all began to unload their firearms into the tentacled horror. Pistols, assault rifles, SMGs, shotguns... oh shit, is that a rocket launcher? Maeve and Bobby both ducked out of the way as the first rocket connected with flesh. First an explosion of blood and fire, then the creature reforming just in time for another rocket to scatter alien meat once more. “It’s not working!” said Maeve. “Do what you gotta do – we’ll cover you!” Bobby’s eyes darted around the landscape, riddled with flashes and metal and enough colour to make Lisa Frank start bleeding out the eyes. “Thanks for comin’, Maeve. Glad to know you have my back after all these years.” “Naw, are you gettin’ sentimental, boy?” Maeve looked back and grinned toothily. “We’ll always have your back. We’re the Trucker Network! And more important, we’re friends.” An epiphany struck Bobby like a bolt of lightning.

“The Power of Friendship will ignite the Neko-Kitsune Sword’s true power.”

Without a second thought, Bobby held his arms before him as he lunged toward the beast. It was like time had slowed down, as he moved faster, superhumanly so, toward the creature, ducking and weaving between tentacles. As he approached the creature’s torso, his arms clasped together in a thrusting motion.

In a flash of bright pink light, the sword once again appeared in his hand, and drove straight through the heart just recently exposed by an errant stick of dynamite. The creature shrieked one more bloodcurdling shriek, and then collapsed inward on itself like a black hole. The Kawaiiju was dead, and this time it wasn’t coming back. Everyone looked on, dumbfounded. And then the cheering began. Bobby and Maeve moved into the circle of trucks, Maeve setting down her LMG as a few of the other truckies pulled out some beers from the trucks. Cracking open some cold ones, they all began to chatter among one another. Maeve approached Bobby once more. “Well Freebird, I can’t say this was the evening I was expecting to have, but I think we’re all going to remember it.” She eyed him up and down. “For more reasons than one.” Bobby looked at her quizzically, then glanced at the apparition of Sakura. She was doubled-over in laughter. “Okay what are you laughin’ about?” It was at that moment that he noticed that everyone was looking at him with a bemused look on their faces. Bobby looked down. “…oh.”

********

“…happy birthday dear Jenny, happy birthday to you!”

Bobby looked on at his daughter with pride, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Thank y’all for coming!” she said, buzzing with excitement as she blew out the 18 candles dotting her carrot cake. She looked over at Bobby, beaming. Bobby knew he wasn’t around all that much for her – he was wed to the road and it never let him stay in one place for long. A glance over at her mother’s piercing glare indicated that she concurred.

As the party began to wrap up and the family began to tidy the barn, Bobby approached his daughter.

“Hey Dad!”

“Hi, Jenny.” He furrowed his brow. Was this really the right time? Is this really the right choice? “Come with me, I want to give you your birthday present, but it’s out the front”

“Sure thing!” Jenny gleefully responded.

Bobby was getting cold feet. Her mother would certainly kill him when she found out. Probably for the best that he get out of the state as soon as possible.

He turned around to her as they stepped through the front gate. “So this isn’t just a gift from me, it’s a gift from the whole Trucker Network. So make sure to say thank you to Maeve next time she’s in town.”

“Will do!” Jenny was clearly overflowing with excitement, with her hands balled into fists.

Bobby opened the door of his truck, sighed for a moment, and then pulled out an intricately-wrapped box, short in height and depth but a few feet long. He looked up – Sakura’s ghost was sitting there, sporting an almost Cheshire-Cat grin.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this? You know how dangerous it is out there. You know you’ll be exposing her to a world she’ll never come back from.”

Bobby frowned determinedly. “Yes, but will she want to?”

He handed the box to Jenny. Like a ravenous beast, she ripped the box open with her teeth, the ribbons and paper falling in tatters on the dirt road beneath them. Bobby winced – he’d spent all night on that.

She looked inside the box. “Whoa! Thanks Dad!” A moment of silence. “…uh, what is it?”

“This,” said Bobby, smiling as he drew the long metal object from the box. “is a tyre iron. You’re going to need it for the other half of your present.”

He gestured over toward the other side of the street. Jenny gasped. There it was, a brand-new semi-trailer. Not one of the most heavy-duty bits of hardware around, but if his Jenny was going to learn to drive, she was going to drive the best.

“Is it- is it-“ she was practically vibrating.

“Yeah, kiddo.” he smiled. “She’s all yours. Keys are in the ignition.”

“Um, I don’t want to ruin your moment, but…”

He looked out toward the gate of the house. His ex was advancing on him and he didn’t need any supernatural sword powers to know that his time was up.

“Well, it was fun while it lasted.”

********

Jenny ran to the truck and sat in the front seat. She’d never felt so alive; her Dad may be gone a lot but there was always something so magical, so fantastical about the stories he’d tell her about his time on the road. Sitting in this truck, she felt closer to him than ever before. She sighed contentedly, then looked over at her dad. And then a pang of sadness, as she heard the truck rev up and pull out, disappearing into the street once more, her mother screaming and shouting at him the whole way down the block. Tears began to well up in her eyes. Just like that, he was gone again. *chhhk* Jenny looked up. The truck radio was coming to life. “This is Freebird to Sailormoon, Sailormoon please respond, over.” Jenny wiped the tears from her eyes as she hurriedly picked up the microphone. “10-4, 10-4, This is Sailormoon, hearing you loud and clear, over.” “Freebird to Sailormoon, I’m proud of you. Sorry I had to hightail. You know your mother. Over.” She giggled. “Sailormoon to Freebird, it’s okay. Bring me back something nice. Over.” A moment. “10-4 to that.” “Motherbear to Freebird and Sailormoon, this is adorable but you are hogging a vital channel. Cut the shit, over.”

Jenny dropped the mic, embarrassed.

“Sorry Maeve” said her dad. “I’m back on the road again, what have you got for me?”

“Some rubbernecks causing havoc in a town just south of your position. Follow the highway and you can’t miss it.”

“Freebird to Motherbear, roger that.”

Jenny grinned before picking up the mic again. “Give’ em hell, Dad.”

#short story #short fiction #writing prompt

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