#oh another thing to note is that they keep pushing the ai stuff like a lot of companies have been

[messmers]

Hey, what do you use notion for can I ask? I'm new to it, was looking into using it as a potential project management tool (I work freelance!) do you find it pretty easy to use?

hiii, of course you can ask! :) i talk a lot though, so sorry!!!

I like to use it for so many things!! Journaling, project management, writing / planning out ocs, creating databases, keeping track of things (tasks, media, wishlist, games and other game-related stuff, references and resources), etc. etc.

it has options for pages and subpages {and subpages within those subpages}, templates, calendars, tables, automation, buttons, files, graphs, tagging systems, among so many others. my favorite thing is that you can add relations between pages and have it link to each other. that, and how you can essentially build your own private home page. :)

it's definitely worth checking out if you need a project management tool because its so useful and there's just so much you can do within it. i think the only problem is that it can be very confusing and overwhelming at first, because it's so customizable. that can make it a bit hard to get into, but once you get the hang of it, it's super fun. which can also be a problem if you're like me and end up spending more time customizing than actually working LOL.

personally, i find it easy to use, but i do have to warm up to it if i go a while without using it because i start to forget things. there's just so many things to it... if i had to rate the difficulty, id say its around medium difficulty? its definitely just lots of practice, but also, you dont have to go overboard with the features and customization. you can keep it easy and simple and that will work just fine too. then as you use it and understand it better, build onto it. i'd say check it out first and give it a try and see how it goes because it all depends on what exactly you're trying to do with it. :)

overall, the hardest part about it is just figuring out the layout of your pages by yourself, because clicking that 'new' button and being hit by a big blank page and all these options can be so overwhelming at first (esp if you have adhd like me lol). but the other stuff like features and tools are pretty straightforward.

if you do want to give it a try, the best way to get started is by using templates as a base, and then customizing them to suit your needs! that's what i do for now.

here are some videos i recommend checking out to get started with it:

1 || 2

additionally, here's a notion guide you can check out.

also, notion already comes with a built-in template database you can go through, but there are a LOT of good [free] templates available out there. i usually find mine by just googling what i need or through reddit, youtube, and sometimes pinterest or etsy. :)

Here are some templates you can check out to get started:

1 || 2 || 3 || 4

sorry this is long, but i hope it helped and that it's coherent bc my brain is all over the place <3 if you have any other questions feel free to ask!! id be happy to help however i can ^_^

[blackjackkent]

I want to reiterate that at literally no point have I received an actual quest item for this murder investigation; this is purely me and Hector being as nosy as possible for no reason. XD

Anyway, back down into the basement AGAIN and this time looking very hard for anything resembling a tunnel.

Aha.

My eyes skimmed over this busted wall before but there's actually a surface out there that's jumpable. (It actually required two jumps, and I was rather impressed the AI was able to follow me to get the whole party out there.

Following the rock passageway down, we find what seems to be a hidden storeroom, with an area off to the side where we can hear voices.

Not immediately clear if these three are mercs or bandits or smugglers or what, but they are surrounded by several bodies and quite a lot of blood. They also have a series of interesting interchanges while we listen.

"Keep an eye out, brethren. It must be here somewhere." "We never get the fun jobs, Zomm." "Be patient, child. Soon."

"Why does Dolor get all the finest weapons?" "You are a weapon, my sweet." "A sharper one than Dolor. He spends too much time with his prey. He's going to get us caught." "Dolor is an artist. You'd do well to think on that."

"Well, what now, sir? We go check his place?" "Perhaps. We'll take one more look here, then move on to the Flophouse."

Interesting. Not at all clear what's going on here, but this definitely seems like something Hector wants to disrupt.

Approaching triggers combat immediately; they're not interested in talking. Karlach is once again able to knock out one of them immediately, and...

Surprise, surprise. More doppelgangers. Is this their hideout? Or someone else's hideout that they've ransacked?

As Hector pushes deeper into the room to attack another of them, he comments, "Someone was arranging these corpses. What for?"

...Interesting.

Finishing the fight FINALLY gives us a quest journal item: "Solve the Open Hand Temple Murders". I been doing that already, game. Get with the program.

Looting the doppelgangers gets us a couple interesting items - a flowery key labeled with the address of something called "Fraygo's Flophouse", and a note penned by the leader of the trio:

God, these people (who I assume are all Bhaal minions) are creepy.

The other corpses (the ones Hector noticed had been "arranged") aren't carrying anything... except for one, the one at the center. She's identified and Penelope Lumpensticks and is carrying two items.

The first, a note titled "Illasera the First":

Oh shiiiiiiiit.

OK, so I don't know exactly what this means, but it seems to imply that this "staged" set of corpses is an art piece representing the death of Illasera.

Illasera was one of the five Bhaalspawn leading the War of the Five to attempt (they thought) to resurrect Bhaal. She was the first (and weakest) one we fought in Throne of Bhaal.

What is your GAME, Orin???? What are you planning?

Also the other thing the woman's corpse has is... this:

Wellp. Pretty sure Dribbles is super dead. Sorry, Lucretious.

I love when the journal just says stuff like this matter-of-factly as if it's totally normal. But sure, we'll try and find the rest of a mangled clown body, because Hector's to-do list really can't get any weirder at this point.

There's a lot more of this catacombs area to wander about in, but long rest first because Hector is a tired pup.

[infernal-fire]

suburban dream

summary: how do you wake up from a nightmare? is it a nightmare if you’ve been asleep the whole time?

major warnings: noncon/dubcon smut, stalking, mention of pregnancy, some cum play (check the prompts for indications of other warnings)

a/n: this is for @iraot��’s 1.1k writing challenge. BIG congrats on 1.1k (i cannot explain how glad i am that others get to read your amazing work) and another BIG thank you for hosting this challenge.

Here are the results of my wheel spins:

Kink wheel: daddy kink, somnophilia, breeding kink Character wheel: Jake Jensen Situation wheel: Neighbours AU

You let out a breath of relief as you dropped the last brown box into the corner of the room. How you managed to own this much stuff, you’d never know. Glanced around the living room, it was difficult to decide where to begin. After much contemplation, you huffed and picked up the pizza catalogue, deciding to call it a day. 

It was unbearable to leave the house in the mess that it was. On the other hand, your right hip wailed in agony every time you bent down. Lacking the much-needed support of friends or family, you had no option but to suck it up and unpack… but that can wait till tomorrow. 

Fishing out just the necessities for the night, you climbed up the stairs and headed into the master bedroom. Massive house for one person, you noted. You did insist that an apartment would suffice but Tony was a stickler for rules.

All Stark employees have to be residents of a Stark-Jensen neighbourhood. 

Before getting the job, you weren’t even aware that “Stark-Jensen” neighbourhoods were a thing; it was a term coined by the tech company itself, referring to neighbourhoods that are protected by Stark-Jensen technology. The crime rate in these neighbourhoods are always startlingly low, the odd criminal or two being from inside the community itself. All things considered, how could you say no to free housing? 

Sure, the security measures assured that you never had to worry, but it also made you wonder why they were there in the first place. This place was as secure as the Stark Tower; why? You tried not to ask too many questions, afraid of getting on Tony’s bad side. Besides, it isn’t characteristic of him to give you a straight answer anyway. 

Life is good, your most harrowing concern at the moment being that your new place had no curtains. It had been a long time since things were calm and you were just recognizing that your days had been free of storms for some time now. Counting your blessings for the second time that night, you stepped into the shower and reminded yourself of all the things to be grateful for. 

To say you were in a good mood was an understatement. You finished your night routine right as the pizza was delivered and excitedly skipped down. No one told you how fun living alone was but they didn’t need to - you quickly found that independence is a glorious necessity in everyone’s life.

Jake stood bewildered at your person throwing the door open. He gripped the pizza box tight to ensure he didn’t drop it and continued to look at you like you had grown a third head. He never was very good with his words, but your beauty truly inhibited his ability to think.

“Hi?” you asked.

“Hey, I-I’m your neighbour, Jake. Saw that you were moving in and I came to ask if you need any help.” 

“Oh,” you contemplated, looking past him. “Where’s the pizza person?”

“I paid for it. Housewarming gift?” he  said like a question and handed it over. 

You received the warm box and waited for him to say something as he fiddled with his hands. His smile looks so familiar but you couldn’t place your finger on it. 

“So…Do you need help?” He looked up right at the end. You grinned at how shy he was.

“I would really appreciate the help tomorrow,” you replied casually. 

“Oh, so… I’ll come by tomorrow morning?” He looked hopeful, as if you were the one handing him the olive branch. You took a once-over of his build, sure that he would come handy when your hip gives up again and nodded in response. 

He nodded back slowly and turned around to leave, but seeing him at your doorstep felt eerily similar to a puppy left out in the rain. 

“I don’t think I can finish this pizza alone,” you called out. He turned around, a glint of happiness apparent in the shine of his eyes. 

“Do you have time to help me with this right now?” It was your turn to look hopeful and you really hoped this cutie took the bait.

He did. 

You couldn’t ignore the nagging at the back of your head that you had seen him somewhere. You also couldn’t dismiss the fact that dinner together was just a little awkward. The conversation started off with small talk, and it didn’t take a genius to tell that neither of you enjoyed it. Luckily, it shifted to talks about the neighbourhood and your old job. After that, the words flowed easily, the two of you bonding like you had known each other forever. Although it was smooth sailing, you couldn’t help but wonder how he knows so much about the neighbourhood security measures. When he mentioned that he had lived there for about 6 years, you chalked it up to a simple accumulation of knowledge he must’ve acquired from being around for so long. 

“So everyone who lives around here works for Stark-Jensen, right?” you questioned, trailing your finger on the rim of your second wine glass for the night.

“Yeah, for the most part. Though it’s hard to tell who works for who.”

You chuckled in agreement.

“What is it with that? I mean, I work for Stark, and my colleagues, too… but exclusively for Stark. Jensen does exist right?”

“Yeah,” he snickered, “He does. Stark makes the tech and Jensen does the coding.”

“So they’re a two-man team, but Tony’s the face of the company? Seems sort of unfair,” you muttered, quirking your brow a little. 

Jake smiled at your comment, glanced at his hands and looked back up at you. 

“Maybe he wants it to be that way.” He nudged his glasses up and took a little sip of his wine while peering at you. 

You cocked your head to the side and considered the information. Your head was hazy and you needed to stop drinking; alcohol and cute guys are not a good mix. 

“Wait.” You squinted at him. 

“Does that mean you’re a Stark-Jensen employee?” 

He let out a chortle and took your glass from you. 

“Hey, hey I want that back!” you whined, not even caring that you’re embarrassing yourself. 

���I think that’s enough for today.” He gently helped you up, waiting for you to move. 

“I can usually handle my liquor,” you promised, clinging onto his broad form for support. 

He started moving you up to your lone mattress in the corner of your room, softly laying you down. 

“Jake,” you caught his arm. “You didn’t answer the question. Do you work for Stark-Jensen?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

You pouted at his answer, still gripping his wrist like you owned him. He tenderly pried your fingers off him and placed them on your belly. 

“See you tomorrow,” he mumbled as he left your room. You drifted asleep easily, blissfully unaware of how you’d never be able to live down the humiliation of your drunken stupor. 

The next day, you hoped Jake wouldn’t show up. It would save you from the burning heat that crept up your neck every time you recalled the night before.

Unfortunately, Jake had found it way too amusing an opportunity to tease you, showing up at your doorstep at 10 AM on the dot. 

The day went on without a hitch, the conversation picking up easily from where you left off. Jake found it endearing when you groaned at the mention of your state, only after three glasses of wine. The question of his employment never crossed your mind again, both of you having way too much fun unpacking. You felt ten times better knowing that your neighbour was a loveable, single, hunky nerd; it made the stress of settling in that much better. 

Of course, like all good things, the weekend came to an end. Monday morning, you eagerly prepped yourself for a new week at the office. Being Tony’s right hand took five rounds of interviews as well as background checks into every living relative you had. After the turbulent hiring process, you found that the job was not any easier. Luckily, the move had you feeling more thankful about being in sync with all the Stark tech; with FRIDAY managing your house and personal appointments, it was easier to keep track of Tony’s day. 

You stepped out of the house and shielded your eyes from the beautiful day. Just then, your lovely new friend stepped onto his porch wearing casual attire.

“Have fun at work!” he called after you.

“Thanks! Are you going to work?”

“Yes, I am.” You took in his outfit one more time, chuckling as you wondered what job would pay enough to live here while dressed in sweats.

“Well, in case I don’t see ya’... Good afternoon, good evening and good night!” you exclaim loudly. 

Jake giggled like a schoolboy and waved goodbye before ducking into his car. 

Tony’s 10 AM meeting has been pushed to 11 AM, Miss L/N. 

“No, no, that won’t do! He has another meeting at 12 PM, the timing will clash. FRIDAY, who was he supposed to meet at 10 AM?”

Speaking to the AI felt more like talking to yourself, but with time, you assured yourself that it would look as cool as Stark when handling your things.

He’s meeting Mr Jensen, the co-founder of Stark-Jensen. I believe you have not met him yet. 

“Yeah, I haven’t. Could you call him for me, FRIDAY?”

Sorry Miss L/N, Mr Jensen’s phone is switched off. He has already notified Tony of the change in plans. 

“What an asshole,” you grumbled. 

On the contrary, I think you would like Mr Jensen, Miss L/N.

“You can just call me Y/N, FRIDAY. Oh, and, send out a notification to all of today’s meeting hosts and tell them to push it by one hour. If they complain, send them my number to take up any problems they have.” 

It’ll be done by the time you reach your office. 

“Thank you,” you smiled and pulled into your parking spot, right beside Tony’s. 

It was hard to imagine what would’ve happened today if Tony didn’t give you access to FRIDAY. Calling each meeting host and personally asking them to push their meetings seemed like a tedious and mind-bending task. And frankly, you didn’t ever look forward to talking to Karen’s. But now, you would never have to know; FRIDAY was an absolute godsend. 

You stepped onto the other side of security clearance just as the clock struck 9 AM. Strutting up to your office, you made a mental checklist of everything you need to do during the day. Usually, Tony didn’t require you to sit in for his meetings. He has a different set of assistants for note-taking purposes. 

Too consumed by your thoughts, you didn’t notice the large picture of Jake and Tony sitting side by side on the wall beside the elevators. You also didn’t notice Jake’s smirk as he passed by you with ease. He would’ve stopped to say hi, but he knew that you didn’t realize who he was yet. Now he just had to figure out a way to get you to show up to his and Tony’s meeting and give you the heart attack of a lifetime. 

Beep, beep.

The Stark-watch buzzed on your wrist, letting you know that Tony was calling for you. You had barely even stepped into the elevator and he was already whining like a baby. 

You shook your head and stepped into the doorframe of his lab.

“Come here!” his voice called from the far end of a lab. Your suspicions of him being under the work table were confirmed when he wheeled out on his back and handed you a wrench. 

“Do me a favour. Tighten this for me?” 

He handed you the arm of an Iron Man suit, what you assumed was his latest mark. He already lived at the lab as it was, you wondered how he ever had time for Pepper. 

“Come on, put your arm into it L/N! You know what, you’re distracted, give it here.”

“Did you call me here to tighten your screws?” You shifted your weight onto one leg and crossed your arms. It was sassy of you, but Tony’s assistant needs to have some backbone, famously said by Rhodey.

“Well, you know me, screws always loose.” He knocked on his head and chuckled at his own joke. You sighed and turned to walk out. 

“I need you to sit in for my 11 o’clock. And cancel everything else today.”

You gasped and turned again, marching to where he was lying down. 

“Tony Stark, you have no regard for anyone’s time! I already pushed everything back by one hour because of your buddy Jensen and now you’re asking me to cancel everything?”

“I know, and I agree. I wish I could go to the mind-numbing meetings with corporate clowns, but I want to show you and Jensen something cool.”

He stopped fiddling with his toy just long enough to glance at you. 

You sighed and called for FRIDAY, groaning for the umpteenth time since that morning. Why were you acting like this was the first time he’s done this? It was probably your lack of energy from moving. You couldn’t wait to get home and maybe call Jake over for dinner. Now that you considered this possibility, time seemed to pass slower, but at least there was something worthwhile to look forward to. 

When 10:55 rolled around, you were sitting in Tony’s lab, patiently waiting as Tony set up his latest invention for demonstration. 

“Where’s your buddy?” you asked, checking your watch for the time again. 

“On his way,” he replied without turning away from his work. 

He paused and took a step back to admire his work before facing you. 

“You haven’t met Jake, have you?”

“Jake?”

Right on cue, Jake walked through the doors of the labs and you whipped around to find your grinning friend.

“Howdy neighbour,” Jake sneered. 

“Oh, right. You live beside each other,” Tony muttered as he gathered some more things from his desk. 

You shamelessly inhaled the pinewood and vanilla-infused scent of Jake as he sat down beside you. To have him so close to you was a dangerous thing, your cunt unknowingly clenching every time he moved his biceps. 

“Stop making heart-eyes at him.”

You threw whatever was in your hand at Tony’s head, and it happened to be a pen. It narrowly missed as he ducked and doubled over in laughter at your embarrassment. The bastard took sick pleasure in it so he often made it a point to humiliate you, but it usually wasn’t in front of the co-CEO of the world’s largest tech company. 

The rest of your time in that lab went on without any heart attacks - as far as anyone knew, the slick between your thighs doesn’t account for a ‘heart attack’, per se. You shouldn’t even be thinking about Jake like that. He was technically your boss too. 

Tony dismissed you at lunch and told you to take the rest of the day off, much to your delight. You slid into your car and dropped your head onto the steering wheel.

You had barely moved into the neighbourhood and you’re already finding ways to be fired.

~Time skip~

You sighed and laid back in the over-the-top maternity chair Jake got you for feeding. Your baby gurgled as curled his little fingers into his palm before knocking on your breast once. With a light chuckle, you cooed as the little bundle began falling asleep. 

This was the only place in the house that had a sliver of sunlight gracing the inside of the house. 

You could have outdoor privileges if you didn’t pull that little stunt. 

Could you really blame yourself for trying to leave? How were you to know that it’s impossible to leave a Stark-Jensen neighbourhood?

Because it says “Stark-Jensen” in the name, you dumbass. 

Fair enough.

You lost count of how many times you sigh on the daily, instead opting to count the number of times you’re able to hold off a mental breakdown. Today, you got the rare privilege of privacy, with Jake being gone to another one of Stark’s presentation.

You reminisced about the last time you sat in Tony’s lab and watched him explain his latest creation. Little did you know that the first time you sat with Jake in there would also be the last time you ever sat in there. 

You gently placed the Jim in the cradle. Again, one of the many over-the-top investments made by Jake to ensure the baby got state-of-the-art care. The way Jensen had made you sit beside him as he put the contraption together almost had you lurching. But you didn’t want to wake the baby. The horridness of the memories cannot outweigh your will to keep Jimmy from crying.

“Look at it!”, Jake excitedly spun the box to show you. It must’ve cost an unreasonable amount of money - not that he couldn’t spare to spend the coin, but the purchase confirmed your worst suspicions; he was serious about this all. 

Your eyes, puffy from the days of crying, were barely open. Yet you still nodded, figuring that if you put up with his enthusiasm now, he’ll let you go to sleep without raping you like he did every night. 

Anyway, you were wrong. 

When did everything go so wrong?; How?

You picked up your phone. Your eyes flickered between the only two contacts saved on it. Jake made sure you couldn’t do anything except call him or Tony.

You missed your ex-boss (who was always more of a friend to you). But, it was obvious that calling him wasn’t worth it and would rarely yield any fruitful conversation. Tony always spoke as if he were walking on glass around you and your words were always monitored and censored by Jake. It didn’t take long to figure that one out. 

“I don’t know what happened, Tony, she’s just unhinged,” Jake explained over the phone. In the background, you struggled against the bonds that held you to his bedframe. You sobbed harder into your gag and tried to scream ‘help’. All that came out was a shriek. 

“You hear her? She’s completely unfit to come into work… What happened? I don’t know man… She’s breaking down under all the stress. A few days of rest might do the trick. No, no, you don’t have to come down. I’ll take care of it.” 

He ended the call and you went limp, pausing your hysteria. He smiled at you as if he hadn’t kidnapped you. As if he hadn’t just made Tony believe that you were off your rockers. As if he hadn’t just fucked you five times over the span of 48 hours. 

He had planned every step of your entrapment to the letter and it was all going according to his plan.

You put your phone facedown on the dining table and walked back upstairs to your room. His room. Your room, too. 

Never, you internally screamed.

Well, it’s too late to debate it. 

You stood at the foot of your bed and traced the footboard. He took you countless amount of times on this bed and every instance held some clue that he was working up to what was happening now. You could see that now - but what was the point now?

You giggled as Jake pushed you onto his bed. Who knew this golden retriever could be so rough?

“Shhshshshhh” you slurred and Jake laughed in response. 

“Tony’s not here, baby,” he replied, climbing on top of you. 

“We’re not gonna get fired?” 

“He can’t fire me, sweetheart.”

“Oh… yeah.” You frowned, remembering that your risqué relationship was only risky for you. 

In your drunken haze, you didn’t realize Jake was rubbing his bulbous tip against your folds, gathering slick. 

“Condom?” 

“Don’t have,” Jake lied. 

“Oh,” you hesitated. 

“It’ll feel so good, baby.” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck and sunk in before you had the chance to protest. 

“Jakeeee,” you whined. Writhing under his grasp, you shook your head side-to-side as he vigorously fucked into you. 

He abruptly stopped and pulled out. “What have I said about saying my name?”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you sheepishly say. 

“That’s right, slut. You’re gonna make me a daddy, right?” He pushed back in. 

“Yeah, you are. Gonna make me a daddy, so call me daddy.”

The implication of his words flew right over your head in your drunken haze and blank mind. Any ounce of sense that you had left was being fucked out by his thick length. 

“Gonna blow my load. Fill you tight cunt, not gonna last long.”

His words were broken with loud moans. He couldn’t think straight with your warm, wet pussy inviting him in over and over. 

As you shook from an overwhelming orgasm, your pussy involuntarily clenched, causing Jake to lose any last bit of restraint he was holding onto. He pushed in as far as he could go as you flailed around. He pinned your arms down and pressed his mouth into yours, delivering a hot and heavy kiss that had you panting. 

He pulled out, but the string of cum that followed made you blanch. You never were one for cum play. Still, you didn’t protest when Jake pushed everything back in with two fingers. 

“Gotta’ make sure you’re full baby.”

You shake your head now, but again, what’s the point? It’s all done and dusted. Though, you should give yourself some credit. Even if you had realized earlier, it wouldn’t have made a difference. He would’ve realized that you knew before you could’ve even thought about escaping.

As you drifted asleep, you adjusted the volume of the baby monitor one last time and slumped into the fluffy pillows. 

How do you wake up from dreams? Was it by pinching yourself? You couldn’t wake up from the nightmare that was your reality when you pinched yourself. You doubted that would work right now. You couldn’t recall how to open your eyes. Instead, you whimpered in your sleep, reliving the moment Jake finally revealed his ulterior motive

“You did what?” Jake was seething, but the only indication of it was his clenching jaw and red face. His tone was the perfect embodiment of the calm before a storm. 

“I know you aren’t happy… but Jake, you- you’re always talking about babies and a family. It was so overwhelming and I… I-I…” You were shivering now, unable to withstand the heat of his glare. You had never been on the receiving end of his anger. Hell, you had never even seen him angry. 

“I didn’t have an abortion, Jake, for god’s sake stop looking at me like a killed a baby! Plan B is not a crime. I’m only even bringing this up because I started on birth control anyway. Plan B every time we have sex is just not practical or feasible.”

At this point, you could’ve been speaking to a wall. Jake still hadn’t said anything and you were beginning to wonder if he had even been listening. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” he whispered, at last. 

“What?”

“I watch you do everything, I can’t believe I didn’t know about the Plan B.”

“What�� What are you saying?”

“I said,” Jake stood up, “I’ve basically been watching you 24/7. And I don’t know how I didn’t notice this.” 

“What do you mean watching me?” Tears in your waterline were threatening to blur your vision but you blinked furiously in an attempt to keep looking Jake in the eyes.

 “You think FRIDAY works for you?” 

Jake leisurely cracked each knuckle and took a step towards you. You took one back. 

“Oh, now, don’t be like that.”

You woke from your nightmare that was the boiling pot and jumped straight into the fire. Jake was already moving in and out of your channel, moaning about how he missed you too much. 

You tried to adjust yourself but he caught your arms and pulled out just long enough to flip you onto your stomach. 

When he pushed back in, the hopelessness of your life manifested as tears; it happens every once in a while. 

Today, you had a new record: you were able to hold off a total of 7 breakdowns.

But, of course, that was right before he pinched you awake every time.

Masterlist

[justkending]

Is that seriously your password? (Birthday One-shots)

Prompt: Is that seriously your password?

Challenge: justkending Birthday drabbles and one-shots

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2100+

A/N: This was asked for a by anon, so thank you to whoever you may be! I thought this was cute little one-shot once it came to me! Also, coming up with the password took me a seconds, but then I heard Sebastian's voice in my head and well... Here we are;)

“Hey FRIDAY? Who all from the team is in the compound?” Y/N shouted from Tony’s lab where she was working on a new piece of equipment for her uniform. 

“Everyone is out either on a mission or off the compound premises for personal business,” the AI responded. “However, Sergeant Barnes is in the living room reading.” 

“He works. Can you ask him to come down here?” she continued, never breaking from her computer screen she was typing away on in front of her.

“Of course,” FRIDAY responded before going quiet for a minute and speaking back up. “He seemed rather confused by the request, but he’s on his way.”

“Always paranoid that one,” Y/N mumbled before shouting a thank you and going back to typing a storm. 

A few minutes later, Bucky cautiously peaked through the glass doors to the lab and saw Y/N completely entranced in whatever she was working on in front of her. She was typing and scanning the screen quickly and then immediately turning to a notebook beside her to write whatever it was down. 

“Why are you calling me down here out of all people?” he said almost concerned. 

“Because everyone else is either fighting bad guys or off away from the compound doing their own thing,” she responded, finally breaking away from her computer screen upon hearing his voice. 

“Oh,” he nodded before looking around and hesitantly coming in more. 

He didn’t care to come down to Stark’s personal man cave much. Tony still threw sarcastic insults and passive jokes at him every once in a while even though they had made up and moved on. But it was Tony. He was kinda that way with everyone. Either way, they only really crossed paths if they absolutely needed too. 

“Here, come here for a second,” she waved him over, pushing back her chair as she stood up and stretched some. 

Bucky listened even though his face showed he was confused and hesitant about it all. It wasn’t Y/N either. They were actually good friends after all the missions and team dinner and movie nights of getting to know each other. They shared a lot in common. She was an old soul for a pretty young member of the crew and Bucky admired that. Because of her mannerisms and interest, they got a long rather quick. It made it easy for them to instantly click. 

“What are you doing?” he asked when he saw her raise her hands and projections of pieces of her suit for missions popped up in pieces in the air with what looked like notes and statistics floating around them. The blueprints for it all lit up in front of them without a screen to stay on. He may never get used to the advancement of technology because anytime he saw something new, something crazier would pop up soon after.

“I came up with some new little tricks for my suit. It’s not not a bad outfit, but there’s always something new that can be better and improved,” she shrugged, moving the pieces around in the air with her fingers. 

Oh yeah, and next to Tony and Banner, the woman could maneuver through almost any form of technology as if it was as easy as learning how to count to 10 on your fingers. 

“I only have the metal on the bottom of my boots, and it’s worked for this long. But, I feel like there’s ways I can discreetly add more throughout the suit without weighing it down, making it easier to maneuver when I’m airborne.”

Another note to know, Y/N was an enhanced. She had the ability to bend and manipulate any form of metal. So the metal that Tony had built into her shoes made it to where she could lift herself off ground level and fly. However, through trial and error, they noticed that they couldn’t really add it to many other places as it weighed her down and made fighting a lot less agile. Don’t get it wrong though. She made it work. She just preferred it to be better. 

“Sounds like a smart idea.” He paused in the silence as she continued to analyze the layout in front of her silently. “Did you just want company to show off that big brain of yours, or am I supposed to give you an opinion?” 

He was sassy with her. She was sassy back. It was the way of their friendship for the most part. 

“No, Barnes. I need you to give me your password,” she said, wrinkling her nose at him with a stink face before moving back to the computer. He chuckled at her facial expression and followed her to her setup. 

“Why do you need my password? You have your own account,” he questioned, watching as she went to log into the files under SHIELD's confidentials. 

“No, actually. Mine went caput last night,” she huffed. “Some weird glitch happened, don’t ask me how because you would think Stark tech is more advanced, but whatever caused it made my account go haywire. In saying that...” She clicked a few more things moving faster than Bucky could keep up with on the screen. Then she turned to him and leaned back on the counter. “Tony was supposed to make me a new one or fix it, but he bailed on me today for brunch with Pepper... In Capri.” She let out a big breath. “So until he gets back, I’m at a standstill getting the information I need to fix this.” The smile on her face showed she was done telling her story. 

“So you need my password to get confidential information?” he asked, crossing his arms and putting his weight onto one leg. “What kind of confidential stuff are we talking here because I don’t need Tony going through my history and asking me questions I can’t answer,” he pointed with raised eyebrows. 

“Highly doubt he cares or has the time to go through your history, Buck,” she laughed, turning back around and raising her hand with a swift motion bringing the chair to her without actually touching it. 

Bucky looked down at it as it moved and noticed the metal base of it. He was always shocked anytime she used her powers. For one, she was rather graceful with her own for the most part, so the act of watching her do it, was somewhat mesmerizing. But also, he was still trying to wrap his head around people born with abilities like that. Wanda really threw him for a loop the first time he met her. 

Shaking out his head and following to stand by where she was sitting, he argued with her statement. 

“Yeah, I’d think about that again,” he winced. “Out of all the people Tony is going to keep an extra eye on, who do you think it is?”

Y/N paused and turned to him scrunching her nose. 

“Ok, yeah you’re right,” she nodded. Bucky sent her a look in agreement. “But I promise it’s not for anything crazy. I just want to find a resource for the lightest metal we can get our hands on. I think if I can get some of that, I can place it throughout my suit to not weigh it down as much and make any hand to hand combat about 100x easier and more fluent.”

“Sounds like a solid plan. What file do you think is going to hold something like that?” he nodded, crossing his arms again and leaning his backside on the table facing her in her chair. 

“The same one that talks about vibranium,” she sassed some. “I just want to run some analytics to see my options on what will be most malleable for the suite. Some metals may be lighter, but that doesn’t always mean suitable for tons of kinesthetic motions.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he shook his head, smiling at her. 

“I know. I got the beauty and brains,” she smiled with a shrug, but she was playing around. Y/N was never one to boast about herself. She was as humble as Tony was egotistical. “Ok, enough small talk. What’s your password, Barnes?”

All that was left to do on the page she had pulled up was type in said password and she was in. 

“Uh, I don’t really want to say it outloud,” he said, becoming bashful all of a sudden. His arms tightening around him self consciously. 

“Why?” Y/N asked with a tilt of her head. “Scared I’ll remember it and hack your account? May just search for some things that Tony would love to tease you about.”

“Haha,” he said flatly. “And no. I know for a fact you would never do that. You’re too nice for that,” he responded. “It’s just. It’s an embarrassing password.”

“It can’t be that bad. Come on, just say it Mister so I can get my research done!” she persisted, poking his flesh arm. 

“Here, let me just type it,” he said, moving to the keyboard. 

“Nuh-uh,” she said moving the keyboard with a flick of her wrist out of his reach. Damn practically everything for having some form of metal in it. “I’m too intrigued now. I want to know what it is…” The mischievous gleam in her eye showed Bucky he probably wasn’t going to win this. 

“What happened to your sweet innocent self?” he said slightly shocked by her antics, but not able to hold back a chuckled. 

“It’s her off day today. She needed a break… And a little fun,” she smiled wider. “Come on. Just tell me. I promise I won’t make fun of you.”

“I don’t think you can keep that promise.”

“Have I ever not?” 

“I mean that one time when you promised to make chocolate chip pancakes because I was having a bad day, and then ditched me for a mission,” he noted. The fake hurt was exaggerated in his eyes. 

“Hey! I have no control over when something like that comes up,” she pointed at him. “You know that too on a personal level.”

“Still never got those pancakes though,” he said, letting out a disappointed sigh as he shook his head. 

“Ugh, fine. How about this?” she started, leaning back in her chair. “You tell me your password, and if I laugh then I go make you those famous pancakes now. If I don’t laugh, you have to drop that whole thing and not bring it up again.”

He weighed his options watching her. The two staring into each others eyes bargaining in silence. Sure Bucky didn’t want to say his password, but worse case scenario she laughed, maybe teased him a litt, but he got pancakes. And he knew she would laugh… 

“Fine. But just know, I like my pancakes with extra chocolate,” he sighed, relaxing his muscles some. “And whip cream.”

“Won’t need to. I’m tough enough to not react to whatever it is,” she smiled, bringing the keyboard back over. “Ok, so what is it?”

He stayed silent for a minute. God, he hated saying it outloud. Not that he really ever had to, but still. It was embarrassing. 

“It’s… It’s WienerSoldier1917,” he mumbled. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Y/N said with wider eyes. She heard him, but she was wondering if she heard him right. 

“The W and S are capitalized…” he practically whispered looking down. When he didn’t hear a response but insead deafening silence, he looked over seeing her biting her lip and trying her best to suppress a laugh. Her face became slightly red and her eyes started blinking fast as she tried to pull herself together. “Yeah, I’m definitely getting those pancakes,” he sighed with a shake of his head, not being able to hold back his own soft smile. 

Not even two seconds later, Y/N was in a laughing fit. Practically falling out of the chair. If Bucky hadn’t caught her when he did, she would have gone over the side and brought the chair down with her, but he casually kept the chair from tipping with one arm. 

“Oh, that’s just too good,” she finally got out after a few minutes of full on, stomach aching laughing. She wiped her eyes at the few tears that had come down and shook her head. “Is that seriously your password?”

“You know Tony came up with it! And he knows I don’t know how to change it!” Bucky defended.

“Oh, Tony. What a comedian…” Y/N sighed, catching her breath. “Ok, back to business.” She typed in the password not being able to hold back yet another round of laughs as she typed it out. Bucky just rubbed his temple as she went about her research and giggled. 

After pulling up a few things, she turned to him.

“Ok, I own you a batch of pancakes now,” she smiled, standing and organizing the desktop. “I’ll come back and finish up down here later.”

“You’re not even upset you laughed, are you?” Bucky said following her in step to the door. 

“Oh, I knew I was going to already with how you were acting. I also knew I was hungry and up for something sweet anyway,” she shrugged. “Win, win for me.”

“You’re a punk,” Bucky faked shock, nudging her shoulder with his own before opening the door for her. 

“Eh, like I said. Sweet-innocent Y/N, as you called her, has a day off,” she smiled up at him before wrapping her arm through his. “Hey, and after breakfast? I’ll show you how to change your password,” she looked up at him with a wink.

The two chuckling and talking as they walked upstairs arm and arm to the kitchen.

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​  @laneygthememequeen​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @marvelfansworld @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​​  @xostephanie​​ @averyrogers83​​ @awesomenursingstudent​​ @gh0stgurl​​ @cs-please​​ @carls1022​​ @jjlevin​​ @rainbowkisses31​​ @carls1022​​ @anise-d-castle6​​ @deannotmoose​​ @their-bibliophile​​ @kitkatd7​​ @willowbleedsonpaper​​ @mariaenchanted​​ @snffbeebee​​ @couldabeenamermaid​​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​​​ @charmedbysarge​​​ @jbarness​​​

@bellamy-barnes​​​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​​ @death-unbecomes-you​​​ @heyiamthatbitch​​​ @lizzymacy555​​​  @srrymydood​​​ @xa-dia​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​ @morganclaire4​​​ @connie326​​​ @captain-asguard​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky​​​ @shower-me-with-roses​

[softboywriting]

Almost Lost You | Ex Machina | Nathan Bateman

Summary: It takes Nathan nearly dying to realize he loves you, but he needs to know you feel the same and will take some unnecessary steps to find out instead of just asking you. [TW: Blood] [Following the ending events of the film] [Light Angst] [Fluff] [New AI] [TW: Near Death Situation] [Swearing] [Sexual Innuendos] [F!ReaderxNathan] 

Word Count: 5.1k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Fear. It's not something you would think was in Nathan's repertoire of emotions. In fact in the last year you've been living at the facility and testing his AI with him, you've never even caught a hint of it. But now, you can see he is no God. He is a man. He is a man and he bleeds like a man. The terror in his eyes as he looks to you desperately behind the glass door to his bedroom is not something you would soon forget. His white sweater is staining crimson, nearly black with the contrast of the bright hall lights.

Beyond the glass, mere feet from you is the remains of Kyoko, her face torn apart, system core damaged by a blow from a weight bar. You watched it all go down, stared in horror, screaming to warn him about Kyoko approaching with the knife. He couldn't hear you behind the soundproofed door. What would have happened if you had gone out there with him? Would Kyoko have attacked you too? What about Ava? He saved your life in retrospect. Perhaps you could have stopped them both. Perhaps you'd be dead. Perhaps now you wouldn't be watching your boss, your friend, the guy you've come to care far too much about, bleed to death.

Nathan raises his hand to you, and you lay yours on the glass. He mouths something that you can't quite make out. You'll never hear him behind this door and you've no idea how to override the system and take it out of lock down. He points and you look back at the computer on the desk behind you.

"Computer?" You mouth and he nods.

He makes a sign with his hand and you suddenly are grateful he was insistent that you learn to sign the alphabet when you took the job as his assistant. It was for just such an occasion. Should one of you get locked in a room, or to communicate with him on cams when you're around the AI without speaking. He holds up three fingers. That means three words. You turn and scramble to find a sticky note and a marker on his desk before returning to the window.

You bang on the glass and he lifts his head slowly. Your heart is pounding, he's fading fast. Losing him is not an option and at this point you'd rather be in his place.

Nathan carefully spells out the code to unlock the facility. B E A M.  M E. UP. He's such a Star Trek nerd. It figures that would be his override code.

You get up and pull up the system control program and type in his passcode. Sure enough the lights return to normal and the door latch clicks open. You race from the chair, shoving the door open and sinking down beside him. "You're a fucking nerd."

"Yeah thanks." He barely chuckles. "I'm going to die."

"No you're not." You tremble as you take his hand. It's cold, he's cold all over. Skin turning pale. "Nathan, listen to me you're not going to die like this."

"Honey, we're two hours from anyone else. I'm going to die. If you move me the bleeding will get worse. I can't walk, you can't carry me."

You cup his cheek. "I'll carry you. I-I'll pick you up and we can call emergency services. Hold on just a little longer."

Nathan lays his hand on your shoulder. "You were a good assistant. I know I was a pain in the ass and I told you that you sucked. But you didn't. You're very smart. You're the best I had."

"Shut up." You're crying. "Shut up and stop being nice to me!"

"You want me to be mean?"

"No, just shut up. I want you to stop acting like you're dying."

Nathan glaces down at his torso. "I got two holes in me. I don't know what's been punctured."

"Please." You stand and look down the hall. The landline phone is in his den. "Stay here."

"I'm not moving too fast honey."

"Obviously. I'm going to call for emergency services."

"Mmm. Do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Move Kyoko and Ava before they get here. I don't need to deal with questions."

"W-what?"

"I haven't exactly gone public with the AI."

You stand and pinch the bridge of your nose. "Nathan, if I don't leave them out here the medical staff will think I stabbed you."

"And you think they will believe that a robot did it instead? No. We will say there was an intruder, they attacked me and you hid. Break the glass in the kitchen from outside and make a mess as a cover."

"Jesus fucking Christmas. Okay whatever, just shut up and stay alive okay?" He gives a weak thumbs up and you go to the den to call out for help. You're going to call emergency services and he's going to get life flighted out and he is going to live. He's going to survive if it's the last thing you do.

_____________________

Nearly a month later and Nathan finally gets to go home. You haven't been back since you left in the helicopter with him. It took three bags of blood to keep him alive long enough to get him into the hospital. The doctors said he was lucky to be alive at all and it was a miracle he made it over four hours with wounds like his. Nothing was damaged internally. That's the crazy part. Kyoko just missed his heart by a mere five millimetres. The other wound just grazed his stomach but didn't cause any irreparable damage.

You spent every day at the hospital with him. He tried to get you to go home, to leave him there but you couldn't do that, you love him too much. Without you he had no one. His parents passed years ago. No siblings. No grandparents. You're his family. It's sad.

"You know we have to go to physical therapy twice a week." You say as the helicopter flies toward the facility, trees zipping by beneath you. "That means long flights in and out."

"I know." He rests his head back on the seat. "My work is there though. I can't just relocate without it."

"I haven't been back since we left that night."

"I know."

You shift your feet against the duffel bag of stuff you've been living out of for thirty three days. "It's going to be a mess."

Nathan chuckles. "I'm going to have to get new carpet."

"Yeah."

"How good are you at home renovation?"

"Um...I painted a room once?"

He opens his eyes and looks at you. It's so nice to see that playful spark. The memory of his face, scared to death and bleeding out, it haunts your dreams. "I guess we'll learn to lay carpet together."

"You're not doing anything of the sort."

"I'll supervise."

"Nathan. Just hire someone."

"I'd have to kill them. I can't just let people in the facility."

"Nathan!"

He raises his eyebrows. "You think I'm joking?"

You shake your head. "I'll put in your stupid floor. No Hitman needed. You're ridiculous."

"Careful. I am careful."

"Oh? Careful enough to get yourself sta-"

"Hey!"

You narrow your eyes. "Speaking of which. Will you rebuild them?"

"No. I think I'll try for a male model."

"Why?"

"For you."

"For me? What the fuck do I want with a robot?"

"Companionship. Besides, I've only made females. It's time to change it up. If I'm to release them to the world someday surely people will want all options available."

"Why not make it non gendered. Just a body, no determinate features?"

"That's not fun. You'll like him. I've already picked out a name."

You roll your eyes. "Of course you have."

Nathan taps his head. "I've got all the plans laid out right here."

"Mmmhmm. Gonna make him fuckable too? Like you did the others?"

"Damn right." He licks his lip and grins at you. "I know you're curious."

You would never admit it but you are. You will definitely not be doing anything remotely sexual with the robot male. Absolutely off the table. If Nathan thinks you're gonna do anything he had best start finding a new assistant. You have put up with enough. ______________________

It takes Nathan no time to build this new AI. Everything is all at his disposal. He's made several. All it takes a few adjustments to the body forms, simple enough, some wiring changes and such. New downloads for his AI system to make them male presenting. It's all of a week of almost non stop work but by Tuesday you're being called to the lab to see his pride and joy.

You push in the door to the lab and enter the darkened entry way. It's almost midnight. You were nearly asleep when Nathan came on over the intercom system demanding you come to the lab. You wipe your eyes, sleep heavy in them. The bright blue lights blind you as you step into his work area.

"I'm here. Where are you?"

"In the back! I'm just making some adjustments!"

You wander past the tables strewn with parts and pieces and notes and diagrams. Mostly Greek to you. "I was almost asleep. This had better be g-"

Nathan steps aside and sitting on the table is another Nathan. No beard but a fine five o'clock shadow, short dark hair. If you didn't know better you'd think Nathan was pranking you with his own twin. But you do know that he is an only child. Which, how very much like Nathan to make the male in his own image. How self absorbed.

"Say hello." Nathan, the real Nathan, says as he gestures to the AI.

"Why does he look like you?"

"Who better to look like?"

You shake your head and walk up to the AI. You look closely, carefully. The hair looks real, the facial hair looks real. Like Kyoko he has skin head to toe. He's covered at the waist by a sheet and you presume Nathan is doing so as some sort of ego inflating reveal of what is probably an exact replica of his own dick. But that aside, the AI physically is flawless.

"Tell her your name." Nathan says.

"I'm Nate." The AI says with a soft smile. "Nice to meet you."

You look over at your boss. "You called him Nate? You couldn't even give him his own name?"

"He has his own name.  My name is Nathan. His is Nate."

"You're a jerk."

Nate extends his hand to you. "What is your name?"

"That's a secret." You smile slyly at Nathan and look back to Nate.

"A secret name? How intriguing. Nathan, do you know her name?"

Nathan chuckles. "Yes, but it seems she wants to keep it to herself now. Maybe you will have to earn it from her."

"Earn? Like a prize. Your name is a game?"

You giggle. "Sure. I'm going to go to bed now. I will probably see you two tomorrow?"

"Perhaps."

"Super." You say sarcastically. This is going to be interesting. You've tested his AI many times, spending hours talking with Ava and Kyoko. They were essentially the same AI in the end. This one could be different. You look back as you stand in the doorway. Nate waves to you and you see Nathan turn to look at you, giving a thumbs up. Here you go. Getting in too deep. You should have taken that desk job at the Hilton hotel.

_____________________

"Where is Nate?"

"He is in the test room." Nathan brings his glass of orange juice to his lips. "Why?"

You shrug. "Just wondering."

"Curious?"

"I suppose." You sit back and push your mostly empty breakfast plate away. "It's just weird you introduced me and then just never said anything else again. It's been a week."

Nathan raises his eyebrows. "I've been fine tuning him. Making sure all the eggs are in the basket."

"Uh huh."

"You'll see him soon enough. I've got your first date set on the calendar."

"Date? You mean my first session."

Nathan smirks. "Sure."

"I'm not dating your robot. Get fucked Nathan."

"Oh I hope to."

"Too bad your fuck toys tried to kill you so you had to decommission them."

"You assume I wouldn't fuck Nate."

"You're disgusting."

"Everyone wants to know what they fuck like. Of course I'd fuck myself."

You roll your eyes. "How conceited. By the way, no, not everyone would fuck themselves. You're disgusting. And Nate is not you."

"Isn't he though?"

"No." You push away and stand beside the table, gathering your dishes. "He might have your face but he doesn't have this fucked up brain." You tap your glass to his head and he scowls.

Nathan stands and follows you into the kitchen. "You think he's going to be better than me?"

"No one said that. I just said he isn't you. I know damn well you can't download your consciousness into an AI. So Nate might be your twin but he isn't you."

He just hums. That's it.  No more or less. Just a little hmm. It pisses you off. For some reason you're defensive of Nate and you barely know him yet. He's a robot. He's not real. Not...alive.

_____________________

"Good morning."

You sit up and rub yours eyes, vision clearing to that of Nathan sitting on the end of your bed. No. It's Nate. "What are you doing in my room?"

"Nathan sent me. He said that I should wake you up."

You glare at the camera in the corner of the room. The one Nathan claims is for security purposes only. "This is my private space. You're not welcome."

Nate looks to where you are looking. "Technically the facility belongs to Nathan and this room is borrowed by yourself."

"It's still my space. Nathan! I know you're watching! This is not okay!"

Nate stands and moves across the room to stand in front of your closet.

You get off the bed and go to the door to go find Nathan. If he thinks letting Nate roam the facility unchecked is okay, he's gone mad. None of the AI have been allowed as such except for Kyoko. Obviously we see how that ended up. "Nathan! You better show you're stupid fucking-"

Nathan steps out of the kitchen and you glare. "Did you get my messenger dove?"

"Messenger...Nate? You are serious about letting him just roam free?"

"Yep."

"Did you forget what happened with Kyoko or?"

Nathan pushes his glasses up. "I thought you'd like him to wake you up. You seem pretty taken with him."

"We've barely spoken."

"Yet you were curious about him, defending him and his unlikeness to me. Tell me, why?"

"I don't know. Get him out of my bedroom."

"Talk to him."

"No. I want to be in the test room. I've never been one on one like this besides Kyoko. It's weird and I don't feel safe."

"I promise he is safe. Touch him, talk to him. Seriously, I want to run this experiment differently than the others."

You look down the hall to your bedroom door that's wide open. "What if something happens?"

"Nothing will happen. Go on. I promise he isn't going to hurt you."

You swallow harshly. That's what you're precisely afraid of. Nate could easily overpower you and who knows how strong he is. You take a deep breath and head back to your room. This is what you signed up for. This is your job.

_____________________

"Where were you born?" Nate asks you when you walk in the bedroom.

"Um, I was born here in Alaska."

Nate walks beside your bed and you take a seat awkwardly. "I don't know where I was born."

"You weren't born. You were made. Here, by Nathan."

"Oh, yes. I suppose it's strange to think of being made and not born. What should I call you? I still do not know your name. Nathan would not tell me."

"Whatever you like. I’m still going to keep my name a secret. Names hold too much power."

"Kitten." Nate looks proud of himself. "I will call you Kitten."

You can't help the little chuckle that comes out. "Why Kitten?"

"I don't know. I just chose a random name from pet names I found in a Blue Book search just now."

"Alright. I'll take it."

Nate sits beside you. "Do I look like Nathan?"

"Yes."

"I thought I might. I've not seen myself in a mirror yet."

You stand and grab Nate's hand. It's surprisingly warm to the touch. "Come with me." You take him to your bathroom and stand in front of the mirror. "That's you."

Nate leans in and turns his head side to side. "Am I handsome?"

You cannot stifle the giggle that bubbles out. "Yeah, you're pretty handsome."

"Are you attracted to Nathan?"

"In a way I suppose yes."

"In a way? Does that mean you are only attracted to part of him?"

You sit on the toilet seat and sigh. "It's hard to explain. Nathan is visually attractive to me, and mentally. His intellect is outstanding and I'm fascinated by his brain."

"But?"

"But...he can be harsh. He can be cold and unyielding and stubborn. He is difficult oftentimes. I think he struggles to express himself."

Nate looks at you, staring to the point you feel uneasy.

"What? Is something wrong?"

"You are beautiful."

"Oh. Thanks?"

"You are welcome but it was not a favor. No need for thanking."

"How does a robot gauge beauty? Are you programmed to find me attractive?"

Nate shakes his head and stares at the shower stall behind you. "I do not know. I am not aware of all of my programming. Nathan has restricted access to much of my coding."

"Interesting. Well, I’m going to shower. You can go away and do whatever Nathan wants you to do."

"I will wait."

"Wait? For me?"

"Yes. Nathan wants me to accompany you while he works. So I will wait for you to finish."

"Wait in the bedroom then."

"Okay. Should I pick out some clothes for you?"

"N-no. I will do that."

Nate nods and goes out the door.

You lean against the wall and sigh. This is so strange. If Nathan wants him to pass the Turing Test he is flying through it. You've not spoken to him very long but it's hard to grasp that he's not a person. He's not alive technically. And what's with Nathan hiding his coding? What's that about? Ava and Kyoko knew how they were made and how they accessed information. Why would he keep things from Nate?

_____________________

"So, how's Nate?" Nathan asks over dinner two days later.

You haven't spoken to him since he had Nate wake you up. You assume he's been in his lab or in the office observing you and Nate. There is no doubt he's done that actually. Every moment you spend with Nate is a session, part of the experiment.

"He's good." You say softly. "May be your best work yet."

"Oh? I sorted out those bugs from Ava then?"

"Mmmhmm." You sip your wine and he smirks. "It's hard to tell he isn't a person."

Nathan hums approvingly. "He has already passed?"

"Yeah, I'd like to say so. I have a question though."

"Shoot."

"Why are you restricting his coding? Why isn't he able to access his programming details?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The first day he told me I was beautiful. Now, he's a robot and doesn't have a type or anything without it being hardwired into him. So I asked him if you programmed him to be attracted to me and he could not tell me."

"He lied." Nathan leans back on his chair. "Day one and he already lies like a human. That's incredible."

You narrow your eyes. "Sounds fishy. Maybe his progress should be monitored within the contained setting then. How long before he gets out? Before he decides to take a stroll in the woods and never comes back?"

"You're worried about him leaving?"

"It could happen right?"

"Yes, in theory, but I've programmed him not to want to do so."

"I don't understand why you made him at all. He says he is meant to accompany me while you work, but I am your assistant. I'm supposed to be with you, not your robot."

Nathan leans forward, elbows braced on the table. "I made him because I want to test him in a different setting than we had Ava. I think that's what drove her to revolt."

"You trap and piss off anything with sentience in a box long enough it will snap. How long before Nate realizes the whole facility is a box he's trapped in?"

"There you go worrying about him leaving. Why?"

"Because! He could be dangerous!"

Nathan shakes his head. "No you're worried about him escaping because you like him. You like him don't you?"

"Of course I like him. He's an incredible piece of technology that-"

"No." Nathan holds his hand up. "You have feelings for him."

"Absolutely not. He isn’t a person."

"Mmm. Your eyes give away everything."

You glare at him. "What do they give away now?"

"I'm getting a real fuck you vibe."

"Nailed it."

He chuckles. "Don't worry. I've collected most of the information I need. I'll put Nate away before we get to the point of him wanting to escape."

"What? Why?"

"I can't have a man with my face running around forever. He's a prototype like the rest."

"Oh."

"Don't be so surprised, Honey. You're giving away your true feelings again."

"Fuck you."

"Is that an offer?"

"Shut up." ______________________

The day Nathan comes to your room and takes Nate you realize that he is jealous of his own creation.

You and Nate had been laying on the bed talking as you usually did after you cleaned, scheduled appointments and played housekeeper all day. It was a normal conversation about your life and how you grew up and where and what school was like, but then Nate asked to try something new. That new thing happened to be kissing. At first you thought it was strange, to be kissing something not technically human. But then you found you liked it. His lips were soft, plush, and warm. He felt like any other guy you had kissed before. Then you realized those were Nathan's lips. Nathan's hands on your hip and cradling your cheek. That thought was both conflicting and arousing. So you went deeper, kissing him back, putting your hand in his hair, aching for more. If Nathan wanted this he wouldn’t have put it in Nate’s programming right?

Suddenly Nate was being pulled away from you, and you could see Nathan at the end of the bed holding his creation as he powered down. It was then you realized he was jealous of Nate. The way Nathan said nothing, just looked irritated, the words were all there. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want Nate to touch you like this.

After that everything began to make sense. Nathan made Nate in his image to test your attraction to him. He hid the coding because he programmed his own attraction to you into Nate. This has been an experiment but not for the progression of AI. It's been an experiment for Nathan to gauge if you like him more than an employee employer relationship. He is so stupid. He really didn’t see how much you care for him.

Just hours after Nathan took Nate from you, you find yourself outside the lab. The door is locked so you know Nathan is inside. He always hides in there. You type in your door code to override the lock.  

"System override failed."

You scan your ID card.

"User not permitted."

"Nathan! I know you're in there!" You lean your head on the door. "We need to talk!"

He doesn't hear you. Of course he doesn't. The idiot genius soundproofed everything. You look to the camera and wave at it. There's a chance he has up the camera feed at the desk.

No response.

"If you wanted to ask me out you didn't have to make a fucking robot to do it!"

The door clicks behind you and you press in to open it. Inside is Nathan parked at his computer, eyes glued to the screen while his fingers go a mile a minute.

"You heard me and you know it."

"What do you want? I'm busy."

"Why did you take Nate?"

Nathan doesn’t look away but you can tell he has an eyebrow quirked up. "Take him? I told you I would be putting him away soon. I got what I needed."

You walk around in front of his computer monitors and he flicks his eyes up for just a moment. "What was it you needed?"

"Data. I collected what I needed. You were very helpful. Good job." He sounds so sarcastic it's sickening. "What did you really come here for?"

You sigh. "Nathan, do you like me?"

"Of course I like you. I wouldn't have hired you and let you into my facility if I didn't."

"That isn't what I mean."

He sighs irritably.

"Use your words genius."

"Go away."

"No. I want answers. Why did you make Nate look like you? Why did you make him attracted to me? Why did you hide his coding so he couldn't tell me if he was programmed to do or say certain things? Why did you bust in when he kissed me?"

"I told you! I needed to collect data! I got what I needed!"

"Data for what?! For what, Nathan?!"

He pushes away from the desk and stands, eyes locked on yours. "For me!"

You fold your arms over your chest. "Answer the questions then. Do you like me? More than your assistant. Do you enjoy my company and are you attracted to me?"

"Yes, yes to all of the fucking above." He clenches his jaw. "There. Happy?"

"Not really. I don't exactly understand why you had to go through all this shit to admit that or bring it up. I watched you dying just over a month and a half ago and I-" your voice stops as your emotions get the best of you. Your chest tightens up and you can't breathe. "I stayed in that hospital every day with you."

"I know."

"I had nightmares every fucking night because of you." You're crying, shaking, hands clenched in your shirt. "I would wake up and lay my hand on your chest to make sure you were breathing because I was so fucking scared of losing you."

Nathan swallows hard. "I know."

"After all that, you had to make an AI to find out if I am attracted to you? To find out that I care about you?"

"I just- I thought you might just have felt compelled to do all of that because of your job."

"My job?! Nathan! You may be a genius but fuck you are moron when it comes to reading people! If I just cared about the job I would have fucking left. I wouldn't have lived in a hospital room for thirty three fucking days if I didn't love you."

Nathan stares over his glasses and it's not condescending at all. In fact he looks floored, bewildered by your words. "You love me?"

"Yes." You walk around the desk and stand in front of him only inches away. "I love you and I'm attracted to you and I want to be here with you as more than your assistant. Nate really solidified that for me because when he kissed me all I could think about was you, all I could imagine was your hands and your lips. Which they kind of were but-"

Nathan grabs your face, hands cradling your cheeks and pulls you in for a kiss. "Couldn't stand seeing him kiss you."

"So you were jealous?"

He licks into your mouth and you let out a soft moan. He kisses far better than Nate, but you suppose it's because he is human with actual experience. "Never thought I could be jealous of my own creation. I knew I couldn't let him fuck you and if things kept going the way they were, well..."

"That wouldn't have happened."

Nathan chuckles deeply. "Oh I think you would have been convinced. You let him kiss you after all and you were getting very into it."

"Sure you didn't wanna see that? Watch your own likeness fuck me?"

"So you would have done it? Would have gotten off on knowing I watched?" He slides his hands up your back and pulls you to his chest. "You're kinkier than I thought."

You roll your eyes. "And you're a narcissist."

"Maybe. But you like it."

"I like most things about you, even your insufferable ego, but I don't know if narcissism is one of the things I like."

"Mmm. Tell me, would you be up for some fun with Nate? You me and him?"

"Nathan! Jesus Christ I tell you I love you and you want a threesome?!"

He laughs. "I'm joking. I love you too by the way. You really wormed your way into my heart and made a little nest." He runs his hand through your hair. "My kitten."

"Wait... that's what Nate called me because I wouldn't give him my name."

"I know."

"But he said he picked it at random."

"No. I programmed him to call you that. It's my favorite nickname." He leans in and kisses your nose. "You seemed to like it."

"I do."

"Then I'll keep it. I like it better than honey or sweetheart." He presses his head to yours and you stare back at him, his eyes such a beautiful amber brown. "Thank you by the way."

"For what?"

"For saving my life. I never thanked you. If you hadn't been there I would have died."

You wrap your arms around his back and grip his shoulders. "If you hadn't locked me in the office we both would be dead."

"I don't think so. You would have been able to warn me about Kyoko. I was outnumbered without you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to watch that all happen." Nathan presses a hard kiss to your forehead and his beard tickles your nose. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Even though I'm difficult and horrible at reading people?"

"Even though you're difficult, horrible at reading people, terrible at socializing and far too egotistical for your own good. You have my heart."

He smiles softly and you think you might melt. "I'll take good care of it. I promise."

"Good. I'm trusting you."

"And I'm trusting you. Finally."

End

-----------

Header by delicate-venus

Thank you for reading. Please reblog if you read or are going to read! Thank you! - A

[msfcatlover]

Me: *rereads my old Portal fics*

Me: “Y’know, some of these are still pretty good! Maybe I should replay the games, and give writing these another shot...”

My brain, always ready with AUs and my latest hyperfixation: TMA crossover with Jon as Caroline, but he doesn’t lose himself in the upload process.

Me: “I... I don’t know if that would work...”

My brain, refusing to be derailed: His robot name could be “Self-aware Intelligent Machine Simulation.” SIMS for short.

Me: “That’s not a great robot name.”

My brain: No worse than “Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System.”

Me: “.......Fair.”

My brain: Testing is like statements; he doesn’t want to like it, but it’s addictive and eventually he kinda needs it to stay sane. He regularly gets in trouble for trying to make the tests less dangerous for the test subjects, because like... draining the acid out of the acid pit ruins the integrity or something.

My brain: It actually makes no difference, but obviously Jonah is Cave in this crossover. He’s researching immortality, and this is just one of the ways he keeps Jon under control.

Me: “Elias was his first attempt?”

My brain: Yeah, but it was just a brain transplant. Now he’s worried about the integrity of his brain itself, I mean, physically it’s getting pretty old. And it’s not like aging is fun anyway.

Me: “So, I assume Martin’s Chell then.”

My brain: Obviously.

Me: “Obviously. Where does everyone else fit?”

My brain: Daisy and Basira are trying to get the whole company shut down for horrible human rights violations, but are struggling to find evidence. They go undercover as test subjects, only to realize they’re in too deep and have to fight for survival.

My brain: Melanie’s a reporter, supposedly doing a profile on Jonah, but secretly investigating all the disappearances that keep happening amongst the staff. Georgie brought her in on the case when Jon stopped answering all calls.

Me: “Tim and Sasha?”

My brain: Scientists, were on the same team as Jon. Might get kicked down to test subjects for asking too many questions about his “transfer to the AI department.”

Me: “Wait. All of this is pre-fall-of-Aperture. Doesn’t that take a lot of the punch out of making Jon our GLaDOS equivalent?”

My brain: ..............................

My brain: Mid-fall-of-Aperture. Terribly understaffed, running out of money, the “AI department” is literally just Jon on the paperwork, Jonah’s desperately pushing the testing/experiments to figure out the limits of brain-uploading before he loses access to the equipment.

Me: “I don’t think that scans.”

My brain: Sure it does! What’s the testing in the games even for anyways? It’s all cognitive, the portal gun itself only gets used in a handful of different ways.

My brain: Now the testing is specifically there to stress Jon out and test the stability of his personality matrix; no point in uploading yourself if the first major issue you run into corrupts your code or causes a major error. It puts Jon through the wringer, even zapping him with viruses and stuff, to ensure the process works, because Jonah doesn’t have the time or supplies for more than one test subject.

Me: “......huh.”

My brain, getting more excited: Merge the Eye-pocalypse and Prentiss attacks! Some sort of biological agent gets loose in the facility, and Jon hacks the security system to try and stop it. Any hermetically sealed area of the facility gets locked down, and he gasses the rest of the facility to keep the contaminants from spreading.

My brain: But they’re underground and the ventilation system isn’t the best maintained, so he can’t risk letting anyone out for fear they’ll get poisoned too. Just has to wait for the gas to rise up out of the facility on its own.

Me: “OH! So from the perspective of everyone in the testing tracks, this AI has just gone completely rogue and taken over the facility, killing a whole bunch of people and trapping them inside!”

Me: “I bet Jonah’s office is basically a fortress, and he still has security access to cameras and intercom, so he just eggs them on. Because this is an insurance nightmare, he wants to upload himself ASAP, so Jonah tells them there’s a manual override procedure for SIMS, but he can’t do it alone. They need to get through the testing, reach the central control chamber, and help him deactivate SIMS before they’ll be able to leave the facility. But actually, he’s planning to delete Jon entirely and replace him in the mainframe!”

My brain: Like the bastard he is.

Me: “So now, everyone’s in this weird limbo of trying to figure out what to do and who to trust. I mean, obviously in the AI apocalypse you want to trust your fellow humans, and SIMS did just gas the whole facility and trapped them in the testing tracks, but on the other hand ‘Elias’ is a shady bastard and SIMS isn’t always that bad?”

Me: “Like, sure, it can be pushy about testing and you can’t expect a robot to be good at emotions, but sometimes it’ll do something like ask for a verbal check-in because they’ve been down there a while and that can be psychologically hard on most humans? Someone complains about food, and SIMS sounds almost genuine when apologizing for not having anything else that can be safely transported to the testing tracks at this time. Once, Martin found a corner away from the cameras to take a nap in, and he’d swear SIMS was actually panicking over not being able to find Martin when he woke up.”

My brain: Tim and Sasha make snide, tired jokes about Jon giving the damn thing all his social awkwardness, as well as his name and voice (for some god-awful, unknowable reason.) They don’t want to let SIMS endear itself to them, knowing it probably killed Jon.

Me: “No, no, knowing that it killed Jon. They absolutely ask at some point if Jon’s okay and are told that amongst the however-many living staff members that are left, Jonathan Sims is not amongst them. What else are they to assume, other than that Jon’s been gassed by his own creation?”

My brain: Oooh...

Me: “Martin’s the only one who actually feels endeared to SIMS by the time they meet up, partially because he’s the only one who was trapped alone. Tim and Sasha were together, and already have reason to hold a grudge. Daisy, Basira, and Melanie met up early and spend a lot of free time fantasizing about smashing the damn computer when they find it.”

Me: “Martin was alone and he hates it, so he tries talking to SIMS, and is a little surprised when SIMS talks back. They’re not always pleasant conversations, SIMS can be curt and doesn’t have much personal info to share (being a computer and all,) but Martin does start to get a grasp on the situation as it must have at least appeared to SIMS when he pulled the lockdown-tigger. And for a supposedly evil computer, SIMS can be surprisingly helpful and seems almost as upset by the situation as the humans are.”

My brain: And there was that odd moment after Martin convinced SIMS to stop calling him “Mr. Blackwood,” and SIMS seemed almost flustered before very softly responding, “...Martin, then.”

Me: “Awww... please tell me Jon’s not actually dead, I need them to take him with them at the end...”

My brain: Suspended animation. The brain is still a vital part of the machine, but it never ages or degrades thanks to whatever combo of chemicals and cryosleep Jonah used to preserve him. Part of Jonah’s “manual override” involves adding a high-powered hard drive or four to replace the need for an organic brain, making full digitization possible.

Me: “But where’s he stored? He can’t just be strung up in the middle of the machine, that’d be unsustainable and Jonah would never let anyone within a hundred yards of it lest they realize the truth! A cryotank in a fake computer bank? A stasis tube hidden amongst the wiring, which they could discover while clambering about installing the hard drives?”

My brain: A cold room disguised as a locked closet or something, with the upload chair still inside of it? Only Jonah has the passcode, technically, and he was planning to go in while everyone else had their own tasks to do, just shove Jon’s body out and plug himself in, leaving Jon to finally die on the floor just a short distance from his friends while Jonah replaced him in the machine, removed the safeties, and escaped into the internet?

Me: “Oh, and Jon gave them a universal override or something to get them out of a dangerous situation towards the end! It actually leaves half the group feeling pretty low, having the thing they’re trying to destroy just hand them the key to its destruction out of pure, innocent trust.”

Me: “Then while Jonah’s distracted giving out instructions, Martin (useless with computers,) wanders over and opens the door, letting out a gust of cold air with a hiss. Martin coughs on the escaping gasses, and Jonah rushes to say that the cold room is very delicate, and ought not to be tampered with by people who don’t know what they’re doing—“

My brain: —but Martin blinks back the stinging, shock-induced tears, eyes adjusting to the dark of the closet and gasps.

Me: “And Martin’s only ever seen Jon in passing, really, they never properly worked together. But he was a little sweet on him even back then, and he’s heard the stories from Tim and Sasha, and he’s spent the last several weeks getting to know SIMS...”

My brain: ...He quickly calls Tim and Sasha over to confirm, just in case he’s got it wrong somehow. They’re just as shocked that Jon’s in there, with all his notes tucked away behind him revealing what really happened. Jonah tries to talk his way out of it, but is quickly arrested by Basira and Daisy.

Me: “Sasha finishes the notes first and makes her way back out. She’s shaking, overwhelmed with rage and grief and horror, and punches ‘Elias’ so hard he falls to the floor.”

My brain: Jonah starts to say something about assault, but Melanie congratulates Sasha for stopping him and Basira, completely deadpan, adds, “We all saw him make a break for it.”

Me: “Jonah shuts the fuck up.”

My brain: Part of SIMS’ programming was not being allowed to answer to “Jon” anymore. He never outright denies being Jon, just corrects people that he is the Self-aware Intelligent Machine Simulation. Tim finishes the notes, makes it to the cold room door, looks into the nearest camera and shakily asks, “Jon?”

Me: “For the first time, there’s a solid three beat pause before the intercom answers, softly and less robotically than before, ‘...Yes, Tim?’”

My brain: Tim starts crying.

Me: “Of course he does! He’s been grieving Jon for weeks at this point, trying not to let it show just how sad and angry he was that it all ended like this, and now it turns out that not only is Jon alive, he never actually left them at all! All those months thinking Jon ghosted them, left them behind in R&D for greener pastures, and Jon was all-but-dead in a cold room the whole time, and none of them ever knew! The relief, the joy, the guilt, the lingering bitter grief and rage, it’s overwhelming. Who wouldn’t cry?”

My brain: It takes them a few days to figure out the download procedure to return Jon to his body, especially since Jonah can’t be trusted on this front. Tim and Sasha are the techies, and they recruit Melanie and Basira for extra hands. (Martin’s still terrible with machines, and Daisy needs to watch Jonah to make sure he doesn’t escape.)

My brain: Martin, feeling useless, stays by Jon’s side in the cold room.

Me: “When Jon wakes up, Martin’s the first thing he sees.”

My brain: Martin sees him moving, meets his eyes, and gasps, “Jon?” Jon nods and tries to say something, but his throat is dry and his voice won’t work. Martin scrambles to get him a glass of water and steadies Jon’s hands as he drinks it. When he lowers the glass, Martin cautiously asks if Jon’s feeling better.

Me: “Jon just smiles and answers, ‘You said my name.’”

My brain: Martin’s confused. “What else would I call you?”

Me: “Jon shakes his head. ‘I just... don’t think I’ve heard you say it before. Certainly not to me. It’s... nice.’”

My brain: Martin laughs helplessly and says it again. “Jon.” Jon’s smile brightens, and Martin can’t help stepping closer, repeating Jon’s name again. Jon laughs along.

Me: “It’s on instinct that Martin takes the empty glass and sets it to the side, leans over the chair, touches Jon’s shoulder, cups his cheek. He hesitates when they’re nose to nose, breathing the same air, shockingly warm even when Jon’s skin is still cold to the touch. He meets Jon’s eyes and swallows. ‘Is this okay?’”

My brain: Close enough to feel the small, inaudible gasp before Jon whispers, “Please.”

Me: “They only get one short kiss in before the door opens and Tim makes a scandalized noise before loudly declaring this unfair and blatant favoritism. Martin all but jumps away, but Jon just rolls his eyes and thanks Tim for saving him. As the others pile in —Sasha claiming she did all the work, Basira needing to know if Jon’s up for making an official statement, Melanie both needing to pass on a message from Georgie and wanting an exclusive interview for her expose— Martin can already feel himself fading into the background, even as he and Tim help Jon to his feet.”

My brain: At least until Jon lingers, fingers lightly resting against Martin’s arm, and looks up at him with hope in his eyes. “Later?”

Me: “Martin’s not entirely sure what Jon’s asking (Jon isn’t really either,) but he agrees anyway. He doesn’t even hesitate.”

My brain:

Me:

My brain:

Me:

My brain:

Me: “.....WELL FUCK.”

My brain, smug despite it being 4:30am: Told you it was a good idea.

Me: “I hate you so much.”

[milstrim]

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 5: Ironic

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

"Woah."

"I know, right," Peter said, unzipping the inside of the suit and moving to plug it into Ned's computer. His friend continued to gape at it, fingers trailing over the fabric reverently.

"I can't believe Iron Man made this," he whispered. "I get to sit here. And touch a superhero suit. That Tony Stark made. For my best friend. This is the greatest day of my life."

"You've said that a lot recently," Peter pointed out, pulling up the schematics of the suit on Ned's computer, who turned to look at him in confusion.

"What are you doing? Are you supposed to be messing with it?"

"I'm not messing with it. I'm just going through Karen's code real quickly."

"Karen?"

"The AI," he explained. "I just want to make sure she's not gonna snitch on me."

"Snitch on you for what?"

"Uhhh, so you know those alien weapons I've been talking about?"

Ned nodded. "Yeah?"

"I'm gonna take that down, and I don't really need Karen telling Mr. Stark," he mumbled the last part nervously. Ned stared at him.

"Why don't we want Karen telling Mr. Stark again? I mean, he gave you the suit, he must think you're capable."

Peter paused, puffing up his cheeks as he took in an awkward breath, staring at the protocols showing up on the computer. He'd already spotted three to tell Mr. Stark if he was in trouble, so he knew it was the opposite of Ned's assumption.

"Actuallyyyy..." He took a deep breath. "You can't tell anyone this." Ned nodded, but he continued to press. "I mean it. Nobody. Not a soul."

"I won't, I won't! I promise, Peter. Not. A. Soul."

"Mr. Stark's my soulmate."

Ned's head whipped around to stare at Peter's shadow, his mouth falling open.

"Oh, my God... Oh, my God! He's your soulmate!!?" Peter nodded, preparing himself for Ned's excited ramblings, but he couldn't really hide the smile on tugging at his lips either, however faint it was. "This is insane! Your life is so fucking insane I think I'm going to lose it!! Have you talked to him? Wait--yeah you have! How many times have you talked to him? Have you done, I don't know, 'soulmate things?'"

"Ned, what?"

Ned threw his hands up. "I don't know, I haven't met my soulmate. I'm trying my best, Peter!"

Peter laughed, shrugging.

"I don't really know what 'soulmate things' are, but we had dinner, and he showed me some stuff in his lab."

"Oh, my God...you've been in his lab. You know you have to show me one day."

"Definitely. I'll figure it out later, just, let us get more used to each other? Maybe? Let me impress him at least, which is why I'm trying to keep Karen from snitching on me."

"Sure. Here," Ned agreed, sitting beside him on the bed and gesturing for the computer. Peter passed it over to him wordlessly. "I'll work on the protocols, you do detective work or something."

"Thanks, dude."

"By the way, and answer honestly, is that Tony Stark's hoodie?"

Peter glanced down at the red hoodie that Mr. Stark had given him, 'MIT' emblazoned on the sleeves while the faded logo sat on the front of the piece of clothing. He smiled at Ned. "Yep."

"This is so cool," his friend melted.

With an amused eyeroll, Peter pulled out his phone, clearing his throat and nervously calling, "Karen?"

The phone lit up. "Yes, Peter?"

"Listen, ah, I was wondering if you could help me. I'm trying to figure out who these guys under the bridge were a few nights ago, but I mean, I can only kind of remember part of a license plate."

"Can you tell me where you were?" Peter rattled off Liz's neighborhood. Karen was silent for a little bit before piping up again. "Was there a white van involved?"

Peter perked up. "Yes! Exactly!"

A hologram popped up from Peter's phone. Ned stopped to stare at it as they both let out an identical, "Whoa..."

Peter watched intently from the security camera as the van rolled up under the bridge to where the buyer had been waiting. Karen highlighted the faces for him.

"Okay. The two on the right, who are they?" he asked.

"Searching law enforcement databases," Karen said, pausing before answering. "No records found for two of the individuals."

"Nothing?"

"One individual identified." The recording was replaced by a mugshot. "Aaron Davis, age thirty-three. He has a criminal record and an address here in Queens."

Peter and Ned glanced at each other. Ned said, "The protocols are disabled."

"Let's pay him a visit."

  ---

"So, what's this surprise you've been talking about?"

Tony's head shot up at the sound of his girlfriend's voice. He smiled, turning from where he'd been forcing some kitchen tools into a box to take in the woman as she stepped off of the elevator. She very much looked like she'd just come out of a meeting in sharp business slacks and an exhausted expression.

"Hey, Pep. How was...London?"

"Tokyo," she corrected, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "It was tiring. How's the packing?"

"Eh, boring," he said, kicking the box lightly and shoving his hands in his pockets. "So, anyway, I think that we should reconsider moving to the compound permanently."

"Tony, we just finished all the paperwork for the tower! And most floors have been packed by now, we can't just--"

"Not the tower. Just for us. Ever thought about a nice high-rise in Queens?"

Pepper stared at him, crossing her arms. "Queens? Since when have you ever cared about Queens?"

"Well, that's the surprise."

"The surprise is that you want to move to Queens?"

"No," Tony corrected, unable to stop his bright grin. "The surprise is that my soulmate lives in Queens."

It took a couple of seconds for that to register to Pepper. When it did, her eyebrows raised and she let out a smiled gasp. "You found him?"

Tony nodded. "Yep, just swinging around New York like a maniac."

"Swinging?"

"He's Spider-Man. Well, 'man's' a strong word. Here." He waved his hand, pulling up a screen that displayed Peter's yearbook photo. Pepper cooed at him. "Peter Parker. Top of his class at Midtown High by day, overly excited vigilante by night."

"He doesn't look like he could hurt a fly, never mind stop robberies. How'd he get his powers?"

"Forgot to ask, actually. He wasn't super excited to meet me at first, actually."

Pepper snorted. "Good. I'm glad he doesn't feed your ego."

"Hey! This is serious," he pouted.

"Uhuh." Pepper gave him another kiss on the cheek. "How'd you meet him?"

"Mugging. I bought him a hot chocolate."

"Hmm. I expected something stranger given your track record."

"He ran away."

"There it is," she said. "It's all good now, though?"

"Yeah..."

"Tony?"

He hesitated. "Peter lives at a group home, and I gotta say, not super fond of his foster father."

"Is he... Does he hurt Peter?" Pepper asked. He shrugged.

"Possibly. I gave Peter some money and the guy took it. Spent hundreds of dollars on liquor. And the kid's really thin. Jumpy, too. But there's nothing to prove right now."

"I'm surprised I didn't have our lawyer calling me to say you broke into a foster home and kidnapped a kid."

Tony shrugged, giving her a soft smile. "I don't need to break down the door to say hi to Peter. Besides, kid's wary, gets nervous easily. I don't want to scare him off by being too invasive about his home."

"Good on you for learning some boundaries, Tony," she congratulated before turning just a little more serious as she glanced at Peter's picture again. "You're sure he's alright?"

"No. But he's got a new superhero suit, a phone with me, Friday, and his own AI on speed dial, an unlimited credit card, and a badge to get into the tower. He's got resources if he needs them."

"Then let's just hope he doesn't need them."

 ---

  Peter waited until the next day to find and interrogate Aaron Davis, more at Ned's insistence that they study for their Spanish quiz and to let his friend geek out over the suit than anything else. He'd stayed at his friend's house for as long as humanly possible, readily accepting whatever snack that Ned had pushed his way and going over notes that Karen gave him about Davis. It wasn't until the alarm he'd had Karen set that it was 9:40 went off did he leave.

Peter didn't like to impose on his friend so much, but Ned hadn't seemed to mind with the new addition of a supersuit and Mr. Stark being his soulmate, and the teenager couldn't help the way he was still avoiding Mr. Fowler like the plague. After leaving Mr. Stark's on Sunday and failing to stop a simple burglary, he'd hurried back to the group home, helping Eric with his homework and then cooping himself up in his room. He'd managed to avoid him the entire night and the next morning due to the man being passed out drunk in his room. Though he was still wracked with guilt at the fact that his foster father had stolen Mr. Stark's money on alcohol, he had to admit that it was at least useful.

Bidding goodnight to his friend, Peter slipped out of the apartment and hurried down onto the street where he joined the late night crowd as he made his way back to the group home. He popped his earbuds in and chose a song on his phone (that had an unlimited choice for him now, but he just stuck with his familiar Spotify playlists) as he rushed back to a place that he wished he could avoid for longer. Unfortunately, the curfew was final, so he made it back to the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys with five minutes to spare.

He stopped in front of the door as his hairs rose. Surprisingly, they didn't direct him towards the house, instead calling him to turn around. Peter glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of a man sitting at an apartment's steps a few buildings down. It was too dark to see his face, especially with the hat he wore pulled down low, but he looked just a little familiar. More than a little nervous, the teenager shook it off and stepped inside.

Mr. Fowler was waiting for him at the dining table. Peter paused, taking out his earbuds as Mr. Fowler turned to stare at him, chewing on a slice of pizza. For some reason, despite living in New York, the man was obsessed with frozen pizza. It was practically criminal, but Peter excused it as mind games since all the kids weren't allowed to eat any of it. Only a sociopath would eat exclusively frozen pizza in Queens.

"Pity. I was hoping you'd be late," Mr. Fowler frowned at Peter as he shuffled to a hesitant stop by the stairs. "Got another card for me?"

"No," Peter lied stiffly.

"What? No sugar daddy today?"

He knew better than to argue. "I hung out with Ned."

Mr. Fowler stared at him, but the travel agent was nothing if not a man of his word. Peter had been on time, so he waved the teenager on. Resisting the urge to scramble into the safety of his room, he whisked up the steep stairs and into the dark bedroom only lit by the lamp in the corner.

Tim was already asleep, but Jeremiah was sat on his bed going over what looked like a book report. The teenager paid Peter no mind as he dropped his bag onto the ground beside his bed and changed into a pajama shirt. He kept the hoodie on that Mr. Stark had given despite the warmth of the night as he slipped under his covers, bundling up in the reassuring fabric.

Peter didn't fall asleep for a while, grateful for the light provided by the lamp as he stared at the outline of Mr. Stark's shadow as though it were the only thing in the world. It might as well be for all he cared. Blocking out Mr. Fowler was quickly becoming a new necessity that was increasingly hard to do with the way his senses focused in on every little thing.

The entire house smelled of the man's alcohol, musty and strong and littered with the memories of a dark closet where even his shadow hadn't been able to comfort him. But the hoodie carried the fading scent of Mr. Stark that washed away his tired uneasiness, at least for the time being, and the shadow kept him preoccupied with one comforting thought. Out there, just across a bridge, was an adult who cared.

 ---

  When Peter woke up, he felt off. He wasn't quite sure how to explain it, just that he knew the day was going to go wrong before it started. He wanted to curl up deeper into the hoodie that wrapped around him like a cocoon, but forced himself to push the covers off of himself and plant hit feet on the cold morning floor.

Jeremiah's bed was already empty, so Peter assumed that he'd already eaten and left with Eric, whose school started much earlier than everyone else's. Tim was still asleep, so Peter put on a pair of pants, grabbed his bag, and woke the kid up before knocking on the door of the other kids' room. He then headed downstairs and began putting together bowls of cereal for the kids that would be stumbling downstairs in a few minutes.

Mr. Fowler was in the kitchen, leaving the teenager to shuffle around him awkwardly as the man gave him a suspicious glare that he tried desperately to ignore. He left the kitchen as quickly as possible, placing the bowls down in the kids' usual spots and then taking up his own place to quickly scarf down a bowl of tasteless cereal. By the time he was finished, all the other kids had already stumbled downstairs and begun to eat.

Peter went along preparing their bags and then taking their bowls to the sink once they were done. He had just put the last dish in the dishwasher when the other boys at Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys walked out the door, leaving him alone with Mr. Fowler. The man was staring at him with the same suspicious glare as he closed the pantry and then made to grab his backpack.

"Wait just a moment, Peter," Mr. Fowler said. Peter paused immediately, holding back a shiver at the danger in his tone.

"Sir?"

"There was a pack of granola bars missing from the pantry last night." The man glared at him, clearly waiting for a reaction, but Peter just stared at him, hesitant. Which kid had taken the bars? He hadn't seen anything off in their bags, unless Mr. Fowler had just miscounted, though that didn't happen often. "Anything to say to that, Peter?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, sir. I didn't take them."

"You didn't? I find that very hard to believe. How close are you to ending your grounding?"

"Three days, Mr. Fowler."

He tutted, standing up from his chair and stepping over to Peter. The teenager couldn't stop the way he froze, tensing up and squaring his shoulders as a large, meaty hand clamped down on one. Fingers curled over the thick fabric of his hoodie, pricking at his skin.

"Well, it would be a pity if it was extended longer. You're sure you didn't take anything?"

"Nothing, sir." The hand flashed to his hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling his head down and to the side with a pained grunt. Peter forced his breaths to steady even as tears pricked at his eyes. "I didn't take anything, Mr. Fowler, I promise!"

"Then you've wasted my time, son. Do you know what makes up for lost time?"

"Wha-what? Sir."

"A bit of hard cash." Peter noticed the way the man's hand trembled. "That card was nice for the weekend, but I'm afraid I'm running a little low. Got anything else for me?"

His thoughts flashed to the newly activated card sitting in his wallet, tucked safely in his hoodie pocket. He could just give it up and walk away. Mr. Fowler would be happy and Peter could go to school, safe and sound.

Steely eyes met Mr. Fowler's impossibly strained ones. "No. I don't have any other money."

The fist let go of his hair, throwing him back. Peter caught himself in a stumble as Mr. Fowler looked at him in disgust.

"Fine," the man rasped. "Extend your grounding until next week, then. Now get to school before I'm forced to call you in an excuse."

Peter mumbled out a grated, "Yes, sir," before stumbling out the door. Instead of making his way to school, he stumbled into the nearest alleyway. The teenager sucked in a deep breath, cursing himself for the tears biting at his eyes and the panic choking his throat. He was fine. Nothing had happened. He was completely fine. It wasn't like the extension of his grounding even mattered, Peter had money to buy food when he needed it. Everything. Was. Fine.

But Peter wasn't fine. He was choking on air and stumbling on panic as he slid down a grimy alleyway wall, unable to even begin to calm down. He didn't know why he was even freaking out so bad, Mr. Fowler had only pulled his hair, but the revival of the strong smell of liquor and the closeness of the man's face to his was horribly haunting.

Peter pulled at his hair as he finally managed to wheeze in a breath, staring desperately at the shadow in front of him. Mr. Stark's fluffy hair and tall shoulders seemed to stare back at him, almost reassuring. The teenager shoved his nose into the collar of his cardinal hoodie, taking in a deep breath to drown out Mr. Fowler.

It calmed him slightly.

But not quite enough.

With chattering teeth, Peter pulled his bag off of his shoulder and tore the suit out of it. With no hesitation, he took off his clothes and stepped into the suit. Karen greeted him instantly.

"Good morning, Peter. Shouldn't you be heading to school?"

"Uh, no, no. Not today, Karen. That man, Aaron Davis? Where is he right now?"

A path was highlighted on his screen.

 ---

  "Remember me?"

Peter's voice was almost hilariously unnatural, but the man at the car stumbled back, so he guessed it worked. He thundered forward to where Aaron Davis was trying to stumble away from his car but was pulled back by the web sticking to the open hood.

"Uh, hey..."

"I need information. You're gonna give it to me now," Peter demanded half-heartedly, the enhanced interrogation mode making his voice much angrier. Maybe it was better than he thought.

"All right, chill," Davis placated.

"Come on!"

Davis paused, staring at him in confusion. Peter tried not to shuffle on his feet. "What happened to your voice?"

Crap.

"What do you mean, what happened to my voice?"

"I heard you by the bridge. I know what a girl sound like," Davis deadpanned.

"I'm not a girl! I'm a boy," Peter protested, quickly moving to correct himself. "I mean, I'm a--I'm a man."

"I don't care what you are, a boy, a girl..." the man trailed off with a shrug, continuing to load his car with groceries.

"I'm not a girl! I'm a man," he protested again. "Come on, man. Look, who is selling these weapons? I need to know. Give me names--or else."

Davis slammed the trunk shut and Peter flinched back on instinct. The man flashed him a teasing smile, shaking his head.

"You ain't ever done this before, huh?"

"Deactivate interrogation mode," Peter said sullenly. Davis huffed in amusement, shaking his head again. "Look, man, these guys are selling weapons that are crazy dangerous. They can't just be out on the streets. Look, if one of them can just cut Delmar's bodega in half..."

Davis, not paying attention in the slightest, looked up, regarding him in slight interest. "You know Delmar's?"

"Yeah, best sandwich in Queens," he shrugged.

"Sub Haven's pretty good."

"It's too much bread."

"I like bread."

"Come on, man, please," the teenager begged one last time. Davis stared at him, unresponsive, so with a dramatic throw of his hands, Peter began to walk away. "Stupid interrogation mode. Karen, don't ever do that again."

"The other night," Aaron started. Peter turned around to look at him. "You told that dude, "if you shoot somebody, shoot me." It's pretty ballsy. I don't want those weapons in this neighborhood. I got a nephew who live here.

Tentatively, Peter stepped back over, catching sight of the man's shadow. It was smaller, clearly a boy with a tall afro.

"Who are these guys? What can you tell me about the guy with the wings?"

"Other than he's a psychopath dressed like a demon, nothing. I don't know who he is or where he is." Peter sighed, leaning his head on the car roof. He was never going to prove to Mr. Stark he was worthy of being his soulmate when he couldn't even find the vulture guy. Aaron offered, "I do know where he's gonna be."

Peter perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah, this crazy dude I used to work with, he's supposed to be doing a deal with him."

"Yes!" Peter exclaimed, beginning to step away in giddiness. "Yes. Thank--"

"Hey, hey, hey," Aaron called. Peter stopped. "I didn't tell you where. You don't have a location."

Peter flushed bright red, making his way back to the car in embarrassment. "Right, of course. Yeah, my bad. Silly. Just...Yeah. Where is it?"

"Can I give you some advice?" Peter hummed. "You got to get better at this part of the job."

"I don't understand. I'm intimidating."

He crossed his arms, but Aaron only shook his head again.

"Staten Island ferry, eleven."

"Oh, that's soon," Peter realized. He began to walk away, pointing a finger at where the man's hand was webbed. "Hey, that's gonna dissolve in two hours."

"No, no, no, no. Come fix this."

"Two hours. You deserve that."

"I got ice cream in here."

"You deserve that. You're a criminal! Bye, Mr. Criminal!!"

 ---

  Tony clapped his hands together in an attempt to dust them off as he stared around the packaged remains of his lab. Scribbled formulas and problems had been wiped clean from boards, tables folded and disassembled, and prototypes all packed into boxes ready to be loaded onto the plane in a few days time. Most of what was left in his workplace was personal items and two encased Iron Man armors.

"How we looking on time, Fri?" he asked, grabbing his mug from where he'd placed it on the counter earlier and taking a sip.

"Packing for the move to the compound is on schedule, boss," the AI responded.

"Great," he said, smacking his lips at the comforting bitterness of his coffee, "How's the search for a Queens apartment going?"

"I have several different listings placed into the Itsy Bitsy Spider folder for you to look at."

"Great. Forward them to Pepper."

"Of course, sir."

Satisfied with the prospective of flipping through apartment listings closer to Peter in the evening, he glanced down at his shadow, frowning at the lack of fluffy hair there. It was Tuesday, wasn't it? He checked his watch for the time. Barely eleven. He was pretty sure Peter should be in school by now.

"Friday, is the spider-suit active?"

"Yes, sir."

He frowned harder. "Activate the Baby Monitor Protocol, I want to see what's going on."

"That protocol has been disabled, sir."

"What?"

The AI was silent for a moment before responding, "It has been disabled, along with many others. The only way to reinstate them would be manually."

Tony glanced down at his shadow again. Surely the kid wasn't messing with the suit? And especially not the protocols to keep him safe? And he'd skipped school, too.

"Call Peter."

 ---

  Peter peered over the top of the ferry roof at the men gathering below, who practically screamed shady. He kept an eye on Dronie's recording, the small robot keeping an eye on the other two guys up on the ferry, while Karen highlighted the men below.

"Who’s the guy on the left?" he asked, his spine shivering as he looked at the man.

"Mac Gargan. Extensive criminal record, including homicide. Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark?"

"What? No. I've got this, Karen."

One of the men that Peter had seen at the bridge approached Gargan. Peter could easily pick up his muttered. "White pickup truck."

Gargan nodded at one of his crones, who immediately began walking into the inside of the ferry holding the cars.

"Dronie," Peter whispered. "Scan the ship for a white pickup truck."

He watched the footage apprehensively as Dronie flew farther outside the ferry, x-raying the boat to pick out the truck inside. The robot then zipped over to it, beginning to scan the contents covered in the trunk but flying away and back to Peter as a man stepped out the front. His leg bounced nervously as the robot settled back in his chest, his heart beating erratically.

"Oh, this is too perfect," Peter said. "I got the weapons, buyers, and sellers all in one place."

"Incoming call from Tony Stark."

"No, no, no. No, no, don’t answer."

Despite his protests, the screen of his suit was swept away as Mr. Stark filled his screen. Peter tried not to grimace, keeping a careful eye on the men below even as the billionaire began to speak.

"Mr. Parker. Got a sec?" Mr. Stark greeted with a tight smile.

"Uh, I’m actually at school," Peter lied, ignoring Karen's correction in his ear. "I gotta get back to class, Mr. Stark, so--"

"What class?"

"Uhh--" Shit, what did he have at eleven? "Alge--"

The ferry's horn blared excruciatingly loudly. Peter resisted the urge to grimace, trying to keep an eye on the criminals below still.

"Band. I'm at, uh, band practice."

Mr. Stark stared at him, unimpressed. "That's...odd. You told me you quit band when you started swinging around as Spider-Man."

"I gotta go. Uh, end call."

"Hey," Mr. Stark protested, but the screen clicked close, allowing Peter to clearly see the people below once more. He flicked out a wrist, snapping a web onto a pair of keys being handed over.

"I’ll take those! Yoink!" He flipped, snatching the keys and webbing them to the ceiling. "Hey, guys. The illegal-weapons-deal-ferry was at 10:30. You missed it."

He webbed away the weapons from two guys quickly and threw them into the water. With a shiver up his spine, he ducked out of the way of the approaching man wearing the shocking gauntlet. The man's weaponized arm got stuck in the net on the ferry.

While he was distracted with the gauntlet guy, the other two he'd disarmed had scrambled to their feet, egging for a get away. Peter turned lackadaisically, webbing them

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast." He threw the two to the ground. "Are you guys okay? My bad. That was a little hard. I gotta say the other guy was way better with that thing. I’m honestly, I’m, I’m shocked."

This was going super well.

 ---

  Peter let out a short scream of pain, suspended between the two crumbling halves of the ferry. His arms burned as he gripped at the webs fruitlessly, but he refused to let go. He could hear their heartbeats, fast and afraid and exactly like his own. The teenager panted, straining harder than he ever had before only to continue to fail. The ferry wasn't coming back together, his webs hadn't done anything, and the entire ship was going to fall apart.

And yet he refused to let go, even as he felt his arms tear painfully. He cracked his eyes open, searching desperately for his shadow. It was currently lost in the waves crashing underneath as cars piled into the rushing water. There was a moment, so quick he almost missed it, where a car hood stayed still long enough just for him to make out the shadow.

Of an Iron Man armor.

There was a metal groaning and an easing on his shoulders. Peter looked away from his shadow.

"What the hell?" With the ferry putting itself together, the teenager let himself drop onto the ferry floor, arm raised in fearful apprehension as the sound of metal colliding echoed around the entire boat. "What the hell..."

Mr. Stark in the Iron Man armor rose into view at the windows. Despite the fact that he was wearing a mask, it was easy to tell he looked angry. Or, hopefully, he was reading too much into it and the suit was just mean looking.

"Hi, Spider-Man. Band practice, was it?"

Nope. He sounded mad too. Peter had to force down a shiver, ignoring the clapping people and swinging to the cargo hold as Mr. Stark flew under it, beginning to piece the ship back together. He followed anxiously on the ceiling, turmoil sitting heavy in his stomach as he followed the man.

"Uh, Mr. Stark?" he called nervously. He continued to skitter after the man as he flew up to the ferry's top, trying to catch the man's attention even as he continued to ignore the teenager. "Hey, Mr. Stark. Could I do anything? What do you want me to do?"

"I think you’ve done enough."

Peter couldn't even bear to look at his shadow.

 ---

  "So that’s it, you’re just gonna run?" Adrian asked as Schultz approached with his overflowing duffle bag.

"Feds were waiting for us. Now we’re on Iron Man’s radar? Yeah, I’m running. You should, too."

"You know I can’t do that," Toomes said, glancing down at the shadow of his wife.

"So now what?" Schultz shrugged. Adrian rubbed at his chin.

"Mason, can you get that high-altitude seal thing up and running in time?"

"Seriously?" the engineer asked, comically giddy despite how hilariously screwed they all were. "Yes. You will not regret this."

Adrian turned back to Schultz. "You in?"

The man glanced down on the floor, contemplative. "If we get caught, we're dead. And we have days before that plane takes off. We'll be caught before then. Stark will get us, you know that."

"So we take care of Stark."

"Take care of Stark? You're crazy. How the hell are we gonna to kill Iron Man?"

Adrian thought for a moment, thoughts creeping back to the night over the lake; a defensive boy and an over-eager man and matching shadows. Peter Parker, as had been reported by one of his men following the kid. He even went to Liz's school, on her academic team and everything. He hurt a little to do this, but nothing was more important than family.

"We don't need to kill Stark," Adrian responded. "We just need to insure his compliance."

  ---

Tony finally spotted the kid sitting on the edge of the building, his legs thrown over the side, his mask torn off his face as he stared down at the water. The bulky outline of the Iron Man armor extended behind him, an imposing figure compared to the hunched and shivering kid. The sound of sirens and helicopters rang in the distance, only feeding fuel to the fire that was his anger. It had been two days since he'd given Peter the suit and he'd already hacked it, lied to him, and endangered the lives of more than a hundred people. He'd taken Tony's tech and ran with it, doing what the man had warned the teenager not to do, and almost gotten himself killed too.

It terrified him just as much as it infuriated him.

"Previously on Peter Screws the Pooch," Tony started, hovering next to Peter's spot on the building. "I tell you to stay away from this. Instead, you hacked a multimillion-dollar suit so you could sneak around behind my back doing the one thing I told you not to do."

"Is everyone okay?" Peter rasped.

"No thanks to you."

He clunked down on the ground, but Peter barely even looked at him, just grasping the mask in his fingers tighter. After a tense moment, the kid turned to glare at him, a sour look on his face.

"What do you care?"

The question almost shocked Tony from his anger, but the fury managed to cling on as the suit opened, allowing for him to step out. There was a defensive flicker on Peter's face, washed away as quickly as it came, at the stiff anger glued to his figure.

"What do I care?" he echoed incredulously. "Who the hell gave you the suit that you're wearing right now? The one that you used to go fight people you weren't ready to fight. Peter, you're not prepared for this--"

"I didn't see you doing anything."

"Who do you think called the FBI, huh?" Tony demanded.

"And they got their asses kicked immediately!"

"And you did what exactly?"

Peter swallowed. A soft, angry mumble shivered from his chest. "I just wanted to be like you."

Tony glowered. "And I wanted you to be better."

Peter didn't have an answer to that, turning away with a sharp flinch to stare down at the water again where the ferry was finally beginning to dock. His face was scrunched up in cold anger. Tony stared at him, waiting, but the teenager didn't do anything. Didn't say anything. With an indignant sniff, Tony glanced between the approaching boat of people and the kid sitting stiffly in front of him.

"Okay, it’s not working out. I’m gonna need the suit back."

That caught Peter's attention. His head whipped around and he finally swiveled off of the building's edge, standing to face him. The defensiveness was back in full force now, broken only by a shiver of fear in the tremble on his face.

The teenager swallowed. "For how long?"

"Forever." Peter gaped at him, shaking his head. Tony hit him with a withering expression. "Yeah. Yeah, that’s how it works."

"No, no, no... Please, please, please..." the kid rushed, his voice pitching higher.

"Let’s have it."

"You don’t understand. Please. This is all I have. I’m nothing without this suit."

"If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it." Tony stopped in his demand, pausing to stare into the distance under the guise of letting Peter absorb his words but really choking down his own panic and regret. This was how he was treating his soulmate. He hadn't known this kid for a week and he'd had maybe two successful conversations with him. And now he was yelling and bringing down and punishing. "God, I sound like my dad."

Peter stared at him, swallowing. "Mr. Stark, please I don't want you to g--"

"The suit. Peter."

He could barely even look at the kid's completely dejected expression.

  ---

Peter meandered down the street, his head down as he forced himself to bite down on tears. It wasn't that hard, he'd had a lot of practice recently after all, but he couldn't deny that it hurt. Well, he could, but not to himself.

With the loss of the suit, Peter's bag was considerably lighter. Empty. It was disturbingly similar to how he felt in the moment, like a stumbling shell of a person.

He'd fucked up. He knew he had. But he didn't think he'd fucked up enough to lose his soulmate. He'd just--he'd just wanted to try and impress Mr. Stark, to show the man that he was worthy of being the shadow that had followed the superhero--his hero--around for fifteen years. He huffed to himself quietly at the horrible irony of it all.

After Mr. Stark had demanded to the suit, well, Peter had given it to him. He hadn't had much other choice. The man had allowed for him to go grab the bag he'd webbed to an alleyway earlier and change into his clothes. Choking down panicked tears, the teenager had folded up the barely used suit, and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped the card, the phone, and the badge given to him into the mask. He wanted to have given him the red hoodie too, but it was the only top he'd had, so he'd reluctantly kept it. He'd given the stuff that was no longer his to the still seething Avenger and had left. Mr. Stark hadn't ask where he was going, so he hadn't told him.

Not that Peter was amazingly sure he knew himself. He didn't want to go back to where Mr. Fowler was surely working from home. Peter was supposed to be at school, the man would be furious that he hadn't gone, and he didn't have the courage to face him right now. The ghosted feeling of a hand tugging at his hair and painful nails in his shoulder was enough to keep him wandering the streets of Queens for as long as he possibly could.

There wasn't a destination, there was barely even a journey, there was just the tired wanderings of a teenager trying desperately not to break down crying. Part of him wished he'd kept the phone, just so he could text Ned, or even lose himself mindlessly on social media for an hour or two, but Mr. Stark's words rang clearly in his head.

"Forever."

Peter shook himself vigorously, taking a wispy breath. Of course he would lose his soulmate not even a week after meeting him. Everyone else had left too, it really only made sense.

He didn't know why he'd let himself hope.

"I don't want you to go."

A painfully strong shiver up his spine forced the teenager to stop in the middle of the alleyway he'd been cutting through. Peter pulled back his sleeve, brows furrowing as the hairs on his arm rose on end. Without his phone, or the watch kept on his webshooter, the teen had no way of knowing what time it was, but it had to have been at least half an hour since Mr. Stark had taken the suit. Since he'd caused a gun to split a ferry full of innocent bystanders in half.

"And I wanted you to be better."

Peter had assumed his senses had continued to freak out from the resounding adrenaline and the complete rush of panic that had been today--from the horribleness of it all--but they still weren't calming down.

Jittery, he turned to leave the alleyway back the way he came, but there was a man blocking his way. He froze when he recognized him and the glitching gauntlet on his arm. From the bridge and the ferry. The man stalked forward.

Peter whipped around to escape towards the other end, but another man stood there as well, a different alien weapon in his hands. Peter paused again, eyes shifting desperately for an escape even as the weapon behind him charged up with a threatening snap.

"Give it up, kid," ordered the man. "Come easy, and we won't hurt you."

"Wow. So reassuring," Peter snapped. Without warning, the teenager leaped, jumping onto the wall as high as he could reach. He attempted to begin skittering up the wall, but there was another spike in his senses.

There was no time to dodge as he was encased by an annoyingly familiar blue light that crashed him to the ground straight into a gathering of trashcans. He groaned in pain as he collided with the metal, the cans tipping over and releasing their contents near and on him. There were footsteps, and he tried to push himself back up, but the man with the gauntlet approached quicker than he could recover.

The teenager stared up at him as the man smirked. The gauntlet cracked.

"Nighty-night."

Peter could only close his eyes as a metal fist came crashing down.

---

~Click for better quality~

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

[ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr]

WandaVision episode 7 spoilers

My notes of the episode I would now like to state (before I start the episode) I don’t think the Metispho theory is going to happen anymore I believe it’ll be something or someone else.

Title: Breaking the fourth wall

It would be Wanda breaking back into her legitimate/original reality instead of ours since she created her own within that.

Ahh it’s starting

Vision isn’t next to Wanda when she woke up

The kids game controllers keep switching years.

Billy said his head hurts I’m assuming all the voices from everyone else are crowding his.

The show is definitely set closer to our time maybe the early 2000s or 2010.

The milk box is changing years as well and she said she’s not sure what it’s about. But this is first time we’ve seen her eat since episode one,

The hex is now huge. Hayward is planning on launching something knowing him it’s a weapon.

Vision has woken up next to the city’s and recalls that he was pulling apart. He’s also confused on why Darcy doesn’t

Darcy is doing her individual interview and she is an escape artist maybe this means she’s gonna get out.

“Don’t believe anything that man said he is not your uncle,” Wanda after the twins asked what uncle P meant about rekilling Vision. She said she had no answers.

“I’m starting to believe that everything is meaningless,” She’s clearly breaking down way pass her breaking point which is why she was comfortable saying something like that in front of the twins.

Agnes knows she’s going crazy hint the cutting her own bangs comment.

The twins don’t want to go with Agnes because they think they need to take care of Wanda,

Things are glitching back to older decades and she had to manually switch it back then the infamous “I’m fine,” Laughing.

Monica and Jimmy found out that Hayward was trying to bring Vision back as a weapon which is why he was so upset when Wanda was able to bring him back

Finally

So now they’re saying that they need to warn Wanda.

They found the rest of the SWORD agents wait nvm those are their contacts

They said they’re loyal to Monica just like they were to her mom interesting.

They got the tank she need to safely re enter the hex.

Darcy has been freed from the spell. Darcy punched the circus

She admitted she doesn’t know who the imposter Pietro is or if her kids are safe.

Wanda’s losing control over her powers the house keeps changing.

“I don’t understand what’s happening why it’s all falling apart and why I can’t fix it,”

Interview guy: “Do you think maybe this is what you deserve?” 

“What?” Wanda “Youre not supposed to talk?” Shes loosing control over the citizens as well I suppose.

She’s depressed so the commercial about antidepressants is a given but the line “ A unique antidepressant that is made to anchor you back to your reality,” Is what has me confused on which reality they’re referring to. Nvm “Or the reality of your choice,”

One of the side is more depression which I think she was depressed outside the HEX before she made it and when she made it it just brought her to the depression she’s in now.

“Nexus because the world doesn’t revolve around you or does it?”

Agnes still has the bunny from the second episode

Billy said I like it here because you’re quiet Agnes on the inside. I haven’t moved on yet but I think he’s saying he can’t feel the pain inside her like Wanda’s grief is in her control and my default in the rest of Westviews citizens but he can’t feel the pain in Agnes maybe because the control isn’t there?

Tommy “ do you think our moms okay?”

Agnes looks around confused before saying “ oh for sure you don’t have to worry about your mom she’s a super mom,” Then it cuts to her interview saying “Ralph says I sugarcoat things,”

Still mentioning Ralph but even in their house we haven’t seen them.

Monica has a SWORD suit on made to contain her but now that’s shes her pure energy what’s gonna happen?

She said this is there last shot. What does she know that makes this the last shot because from what we know she can go back in whenever with the equipment she was given.

The exterior of the hex is becoming equal to the vehicle so it was half of it was rewritten before shot back out.

Monica knows she can make it through and as she goes through you can see different stages of her life and here the dialogue of her in Captain Marvel before her mom goes to space with Carol.

“Maybe I could fly up and meet you halfway,” Younger Monica. 

She’s now screaming no I think she’s being rejected back out maybe because this time she isn’t being sucked in.

All of her phases and ages were pushed into her bodies and her eyes glew blue.

She can see all the energy in colors coming off the powerlines the whole world was in like pastel colors pink purple and blue. Before she blinked her eyes and it went back to normal. She’s getting her power exciting. She took her sword suit off because she doesn’t need it.

“So Wanda killed me?” Vision

“Yes, but it’s not that simple you asked her to do it,” Darcy.

“Why would I have done that?”

“To save the universe well half of it,”

“Did it work?”

“It did. Until the bad guy rewind time and killed you himself.”

She’s catching him up on his life before Hayward took him apart possibly wiping him. I can’t tell if Wanda or Hayward wiped him. Since he was so scared about not remembering anything before Westview before he gets his summary now. 

“I came back and died again?”

“And Wanda had to watch,” After Darcy said that you could see the pity in Vision’s eyes.

Vision’s interview: “I believe Wanda is creating these impediments to stop me returning home,”

Yeah she’s created another one the construction workers stopping them from getting home.

Vision said he was a body made by Ultron and an AI named Jarvis but what is he now?

Darcy said she thought Wanda just like flipped a switch and brought her back but she doesn’t understand why he dies if he leaves.

“What I do know is I’ve seen watching WandaVision for the past week and the love you two have is real,”

Vision seems conflicted at that.

Monica made it in and when she came into the house Wanda was taking the Nexus antidepressants and she is confused on how she got in.

She begins to blame the drones and missles on Sword which that was then but then she blames Pietro on them and Monica claims Pietro wasn’t Swords doing.

Everyone including Dottie is watching Wanda use her powers to hold Monica in the air. They all seems stunned but not really surprised

“All you do is lie!”

When Monica hit the grown energy surrounded/protected her and her eyes were blue again. Wanda was definitely shocked by whatever powers she developed.

“The only lies I’ve told are the ones you put in my mouth,” Monica walking towards Wanda.

“Careful what you say to me,” Wanda as she conjures up her powers as a way to threaten Monica.

“Do it then,” Monica said knowing she probably wouldn’t do it. I think she knows Wanda wants help she just doesn’t want to leave her kids and Vision behind. “Take me out,”

“Don’t let him make you the Villain,” Monica talking about Hayward who’s going to tear Westview down to get Vision back.

“Maybe I already am,”

Agnes sees this go down and goes outside. Monica talks about how she isn’t scared of Wanda she already lost her mom and that was the worst thing that can happen. She said she can’t bring her back then she says. “I can’t control this pain anymore,”

Which is Wanda’s situation entirely her pain got so out of control her powers made up for it. Monica and Wanda share an understanding.

She broke through to Wanda I could see it in her eyes but then Agnes came over and said “Young lady, I think you overstayed your welcome,”

Agnes doesn’t want Westview to end she can’t let it end. I’m assuming she said something to do with the creation. Agnes is manipulating Wanda to thinking what Agnes wants is what she wants but it’s not. Wanda was going to shutdown Westview until Agnes came and led her away. 

As soon as Wanda was back inside the rest of the citizens went about their day.

There is kids where did they come from? I’m still confused on that.

Now Vision is starting to understand what Wanda went through he’s realized how much stuff she endured he endured it too but he said it felt like it happened to another person. I feel like he’ll be less harsh now. Or stop trying to shut it down as hard I’m not sure yet.

He ended the interview saying “I need to get to my wife,”

Agnes brought Wanda to her home.

Wait how is Yo Gabba Gabba on the TV when thats a nickeloaden show. That wasn’t really related I was just confused.

The music has gotten scary as Wanda looks around.

“Where are the twins?”

“Oh they’re probably just playing in the basement,” Agnes said seemingly wayyy to calm for the twins to be possibly missing she knows something.

There are vines all in Agnes’s basement and there’s wind blowing it’s like a maze. There’s a book it looks like a spell book. Yep it was.

She came down to find Wanda stroking Sir Sratchy

“Wanda, Wanda. You didn’t think you were the only magical girl in town, did you?” She just admitted to being Agatha Harkness.

She is the villain I’m sure of it. Her and Hayward are both the villains. I’m just not sure why she needs Westview to stay up and running.

Wanda has red or scarlet waves that show her powers and Agatha or Agnes has purple waves.

Her eyes are purple and she’s going into her head.

Agatha is getting her own show theme sequence called “Agatha all along,” It’s going through the decades it’s switched to. Her waves are purple and she has the power to manipulate peoples mind I’m assuming. That’s how she messed with Herb after fixing the talent show.

OHHH MY GOD

people thought the twins brought back Pietro or Peter after seeing their mom upset but it was Agatha.

Agatha was the interviewer who asked “Do you think maybe this is what you deserve?”

She’s not only playing physical tricks and changing the actual physical surroundings in Westview she’s doing mind tricks.

“Who’s been pulling every evil string?” The chorus.

“She’s insidious,”

“So perfidious that you haven’t even noticed and the pity is,”

“It’s too late to fix anything now everything has gone wrong,”

“Thanks to Agatha Naughty Agatha,”

She admitted to killing Sparky which I think I commented on a few eps back.

But the “it’s too late to fix anything”might be why the times period keep changing along with the house because she’s already lost control of her powers she can’t get control back now. “now that everything has gone wrong,” 

A lot of suspicions people had including myself have been comfirmed Agatha is the villain. But that’s only from the inside we still have Hayward to worry about.

WAIT THERE END CREDITS THIS TIME.

It’s Monica trying to break into Agatha’s basement as soon as she opened the door from the outside. Her eyes might’ve changed a bit but there was purple waves from Agnes in the vines. I can’t tell if Monica eyes are blue from her energy or purple from Agatha’s influence.

But a man caught her and said “Snoopers gonna snoop,” At first guess I randomly said Tommy all grown up but that’s unlikely now I’m thinking it was Ralph. We wouldn’t know because we haven’t seen him all season though. Wait that we Peter/Pietro that’s how he got back there so fast.

[clovers-in-despair]

Hi! So, if you know me, you know I’m not the biggest fan of Danganronpa 3’s storyline. I won’t go into detail as to why in this post. Instead, I’m going to show off my Danganronpa 3 rewrite! It mostly focuses on the Despair Arc and then adding on to things like UDG, SDR2, and the Hope Arc. Please note this contains spoilers. I’ll write it in bullet points because it’s easy for me to get things down in this manner, especially since I don’t have every moment of every single day rewritten. Maybe one day I’ll write fanfiction for this! Forgive grammar n stuff, I’m super tired and just spewing my ideas out without structure. So hit that “keep reading” and let’s get this party started.

-In my rewrite, Chiaki Nanami’s punishment isn’t what pushed them into despair. Rather, Junko Enoshima played on everyone’s weaknesses and individually pulled them into despair. In some cases, she used those she already converted as pawns to drag down their fellow classmates. For example, I like to believe Junko played on Nagito’s desire to be loved. And eventually, Nagito understood what she was doing to him.. But rather than stop it, he let himself become despair because he couldn’t wait to see the hope that would be born from it. For another example, Junko might have pulled Mahiru into despair. In turn, Junko uses Mahiru to drag down Hiyoko. I like the idea of Junko’s analytic and manipulation skills being more relevant. A slow process of taking everyone down and hitting them in their weak spots feels more satisfying than everyone going down at once, in my opinion.

-Again, Chiaki Nanami’s punishment isn’t what pushed them into despair. Rather, it was a test. Junko uses Chisa as a puppet here, and Chisa is the one to subject Chiaki to her punishment. Think back to DR3, and how we saw Junko on all the screens as Chiaki navigated the death maze. Now, what if we saw Chisa there instead and narrating the entire thing? What could be more despairful than your own teacher putting you through this death trap? And of course, since I’m a sucker for angst, I like to imagine her classmates NOT watching on in complete devastation. What if they were basking in the feeling it gave them? Cheering on as Chiaki navigates her way through the maze… 

-Now, remember in DR3 where we see Kamukura cry as Chiaki is dying? Remember how Hajime’s attachment to her caused Kamukura to subconsciously care for her? Now, this will come into play later. But let’s get back to Chisa Yukizome. What if Chisa had the same thing happen? A subconscious desire to.. Well, not see her die. So she leaves Chiaki with a very slight chance of survival. The footage of Chiaki navigating the maze cuts out before anyone really sees her die. Of course, the assumption of Class 77B would be that she IS dead. 

-And here’s where Kamukura comes in. He subconsciously cares for her, though he does not know why. I like to imagine he saved her with his talents. And because he is neither on the side of hope or despair exclusively, Chiaki is now a new pawn in this “war” between hope and despair. Just something new to hopefully cure this boredom and bring something new to the table. 

-Well, after treating her, he turns her loose. Keep in mind, a recovery like that doesn’t happen overnight though. 

-Chiaki Nanami ends up in Towa City, and takes refuge in the Resistance. However, she joins under a new identity. Miyuki Watanabe. The fake name stems from the fear that she would be killed if her true identity is discovered, and people realize she is associated with the remnants who had faked their deaths and mistake her as a remnant herself. I tried to design a concept for Chiaki while trying to hide herself. A mask to hide her face, and she has longer hair due to not really getting much of a haircut lately. A wrinkled up shirt, and all that. She has grey bag with two things that are rolled up sticking out of the bags, perhaps posters of some kind.

-Chiaki eventually meets Komaru and Toko at the resistance camp under the name Miyuki, but she eventually reveals her true identity to them and what had happened to her until that point. Of course, Toko was skeptical of this at first but was talked into helping by Komaru. When Byakuya was eventually rescued, he tipped Makoto off to Chiaki’s presence in Towa City in their video call at the end of Ultra Despair Girls.

-Makoto is able to come to Chiaki’s rescue. Of course, once Chiaki is brought back, she’s met with lots of interrogation and DNA tests from other members of the Future Foundation prior to being held in a high security cell for precautionary reasons.  

-She does end up receiving some grooming like a haircut and fresh clothes. She remains here until eventually Makoto asks for her assistance. He explains he intends to use the Neo World Program to reverse Junko’s influence on her friends, and asks her to help monitor her classmates’ behaviors from the outside, as she knows them all best. 

Here’s Nanami after getting a haircut and some fresh clothes to wear. Of course, she still wears her signature jacket over these fresh clothes.

-And oh boy, seeing everyone’s faces on those monitors… hearing their voices again.. It both hurt her terribly and warmed her heart. 

-Let’s not forget real-life Chiaki’s reaction to the AI within the program. Before I continue, please note Chiaki is traumatized and not quite the person she was back at Hope’s Peak. 

-Seeing her AI within the program? It causes a bit of an identity crisis. Her AI does remind Chiaki of better days, however, she also feels envy and frustration towards it. She’s a little envious that the AI is there, interacting with her classmates and Hinata again the way she always hoped to do again. Frustrated, because sometimes the AI would respond in ways real-life Chiaki would have done differently. She has zero control over her own AI, by the way. So she can only watch it interact with everyone.

-Though once she learns why the AI is herself, she finds it to be bittersweet.

-But when the killing game begins, her world comes crashing down AGAIN. Still, she was told to continue monitoring the behavior of her classmates’ despite this.

-Might I add that AI Chiaki’s execution brought back some really, really terrible memories for real-life Chiaki? 

-Rest assured, in the end, Chiaki was able to reunite with Class 77B and Hajime Hinata. And they all live on the real Jabberwock Island together.

-In my rewrite, Hajime’s relationships with others tumbles a bit as he comes overprotective over Chiaki, despite her insisting he doesn’t need to be. He worries greatly about her due to their past. The romantic feelings are still there between the two, but the interest in a romantic relationship is low as they both require lots of healing before they’re ready for this. Hiyoko remains on iffy terms with Fuyuhiko and Peko, while Mahiru does the opposite and repairs her relationships with them. Kazuichi is on OK terms with Gundham, and actually ends up falling for Mikan and they get together. Akane is oddly one of the first to be forgiving towards Nagito and they become friends, though I will add that Nagito is a little desperate for Hajime’s attention, which he has directed to Chiaki very heavily. Mahiru and Hiyoko remain besties. Fuyupeko is semi-canon. They acknowledge their feelings but neither has made a move. I’ll make a chart of everyone’s relationships with each other someday and tack it on with a reblog. Right now, it’s just me spewing out my ideas as I’m dead tired.

-Oh, and they provide relief to the world as a way of atoning for their sins. Sometimes their missions require everyone on the island! Other times, it requires a certain number or a certain talent. They’re just here to try and make the world a better place after all that has happened.

[Credit for Chiaki model in replies, hyper links eat my posts]

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Forgotten

Reader x Dad!Tony Stark

Reader x Avengers

Warnings: idk, sad?? Then fluff

Alright well this probably sucks, but here goes: it’s Y/N’s sweet 16 and almost no one remembers, that’s about it as far as the plot goes.

F/B = favorite band, F/F = favorite fandom, F/C = favorite color, Y/B/D = your birth date

Y/N was on cloud 9. She hadn’t known it was possible to feel this great so early in the morning, but it was. It was her birthday, her second favorite day of the year, (Christmas came first) and she couldn’t be more excited.

She had already received several presents this morning, courtesy of Peter, who had delivered presents from several of her friends in his neighborhood while he was patrolling.

Thus far she had received the most adorable stuffed bear she had ever seen from Ned, (and of course the bear was dressed in a little Star Wars t-shirt, because, Ned) MJ had gotten her a book she’d been wanting, and texted her to remind her she was even closer to dying (MJ had a weird view on birthdays), and Peter himself had gotten her a collection of t-shirts: one from F/B, one from F/F, and—Peter has found this one rather amusing—a Spider-Man t-shirt. He made her promise to flaunt it in front of her father, too, saying maybe if she did that he’d get jealous and buy her an Iron Man t-shirt, so it was a win-win all around.

Y/N couldn’t wait to find out what her father had planned for her. Being the daughter of Tony Stark meant that birthdays would be filled with way too many presents and the biggest party of the year. Part of her—ok, most of her—wished that her birthdays could be a bit more simple, but she loved watching how happy her father was when he got to spoil her, and she loved that every year on her birthday he made sure to spend the entire day with her, no matter what.

Y/N quickly got dressed in one of her favorite outfits, jean shorts and a F/F t-shirt (her other favorite was a F/C dress, but she didn’t feel like getting too dressed up today, she wanted to be comfortable), and practically skipped over to the elevator. She knew the first event on the birthday schedule would be pancakes, compliments of her father, which was very special. Tony Stark never, ever cooked, except that one day a year when he rolled up his sleeves and made birthday breakfast pancakes. They were always oddly shaped, with weird lumps in them, but Y/N loved the tradition anyway.

Y/N was confused when she arrived in the kitchen and saw it completely vacant. Wasn’t her dad awake yet? He always got up a little earlier on her birthday to make sure they had plenty of time together, so where was he?

Barely had the thought crossed her mind when she heard her father’s voice in the living room

“...are you sure? Alright, I’ll call you back later then.”

Y/N rushed to the living room just as Tony Stark got off the phone.

“Hey babygirl,” he greeted and kissed her forehead “you’re up early. What are your plans for today.”

Y/N felt her heart drop like a stone. He...he didn’t remember?

She struggled to keep her voice steady as she replied.

“Not-not much, you?” Maybe he was just messing with her, just joking as usual. He wouldn’t forget.

“I have a meeting in Paris with some execs at Stark Industries, really boring stuff but Pep says I have to go. I’ll be back tomorrow night though.”

Y/N fought hard against the tears that had begun to gather behind her eyes. He really had forgotten, and he would be gone all day.

She probably should remind him, that would fix everything, he’d drop absolutely everything and apologize a million times and the day would go back to normal. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She didn’t know why, but she felt too embarrassed to bring the subject up. She hated being the center of attention, and she hated making her father feel bad, and reminding him that he had forgotten his daughter’s sixteenth birthday would make both of those things happen. Besides, she didn’t want him to drop all of his important business just for her. It was just a stupid day.

Before she could stop it, a tear slipped down her cheek and dripped off her chin. Her father hadn’t seen it, however, because he had turned and stepped into the elevator. He had his important meeting to get to after all.

With one last smile and wave, Tony Stark disappeared.

A few more tears slid down Y/N’s face, but she quickly wiped them away when she heard approaching footsteps.

“Morning kiddo,” Bruce greeted with a grin. “Where’s your dad?”

“He—um...he went out,” she muttered. “He’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Bruce nodded and walked into the kitchen, and Y/N felt her heart sink even further. Bruce had forgotten too.

She didn’t want to mope, not on her birthday, but she was also pretty bad at cheering herself up. She’d just need some help.

She saw her first opportunity when Steve walked sleepily into the living room. Steve was both the best cuddler and the best tickler on the team, the perfect way to cheer her up. But if she wanted to be tickled she’d have to annoy him a bit, that always got him to tickle her.

“Hey Stevie,” she greeted with a grin, stepping up onto the couch and using it as a stepping stool to jump onto his back. He grunted at the impact, and turned his head to glare at her.

“Y/N, go annoy someone else, I’m not in the mood,” he snapped, and she pushed back the hurt at learning that yet another teammate had forgotten her birthday.

“Ignore Captain Mcgrumpypants, he got back from a mission at four a.m,” Clint announced as he walked into the room. Had no one remembered her birthday?

“Stevie I’m bored,” Y/N whined, jumping off his back and poking him in the chest.

He moved away from her, scowling. “Then go find someone else to bug.”

“But you’re the most fun to bug!” She insisted, poking him again.

He shoved her hand away. “Y/N, I swear, touch me one more time and I-“

Y/N grinned, mistaking his grumpy tone for the usual joking threat. She was so close to getting tickled. She poked him yet again, hard in the center of his chest.

Steve shoved her back harshly, and it was then she realized that he hadn’t been kidding around, he really was angry with her.

“Y/N, I mean it! Grow the heck up and leave me ALONE!” He was standing in front of her now, using his height as an advantage to tower over her. She had never felt quite this small before.

“Steve I just-“

“I’ve had ENOUGH of your childish antics, you’re too old to be running around and acting like a two-year old, now stop it!”

Y/N couldn’t hold back the whimper that bubbled up in her throat as tears streamed down her face.

Upon seeing her reaction, the anger almost immediately faded from Steve’s eyes, but it was too late.

“Y/N-“ he began, but she had already disappeared up the stairs.

“Oh nice going Steve,” Clint scoffed.

...

Y/N threw herself down on her bed and began to cry into her pillow, hugging it tightly. She hadn’t meant to upset Steve, she just wanted to have a little fun.

She didn’t understand. Why didn’t anyone remember her birthday? Why had Steve gotten so mad at her? What had she done wrong to make today go so horribly?

One thing was for sure. This was the worst birthday ever.

...

“JARVIS, what time is it?” Tony Stark asked as he went over his notes for the upcoming meeting.

“It is 3:27, Saturday, Y/B/D, sir,” the AI responded.

Tony froze. Had he heard that right?

“You...you said it was Y/B/D?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

Tony moaned. It was Y/N’s birthday! How had he not known?!

“Clint spilled coffee all over your calendar three weeks ago, that’s how,” Tony muttered to himself. He hadn’t looked at the date in forever, and he’d forgotten to set a reminder on his phone.

Tony groaned. That was such a lame excuse. He shouldn’t always need a reminder or a calendar to remember his kid’s birthday. He should’ve kept track!

“JARVIS, cancel my meeting and turn this bird around,” he demanded, doing calculations in his head. He had left at 9 a.m, meaning he should get home a little before 10. He would still be there for a little bit of his little girl’s birthday.

“JARVIS, call all of Y/N’s friends and-“

“Mr. Stark, I believe Y/N would be much happier if she was just able to spend time with you,” his AI responded.

Tony stopped. Maybe JARVIS was onto something.

...

“Hey, where’s the birthday girl?” Everyone in the living room froze when they heard Bucky’s question.

“The what?” Steve asked, but he already knew.

“Oh don’t tell me you guys forgot,” Bucky groaned. “It’s Y/N’s birthday! So where is she?”

All eyes slowly turned to Steve, and the guilt already torturing him doubled. Why has he been such a jerk to her?

“Upstairs in her room,” Steve muttered.

“Alright, I’ll go get-“

“No,” Steve interrupted. “I have to get her.”

...

Y/N had finally stopped the flood of tears when she heard a gentle knock on the door.

“Y/N?” Steve. Of course.

“Go away!” Her voice came out quiet and muffled because of the pillow still pressed against her face.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, and Y/N was surprised when the door opened. She lifted her head from the pillow.

“JARVIS!” She whined. “You were supposed to keep him out!”

“I’m sorry miss, but it seemed like it would be better if you listened to what Captain Rogers has to say.”

“Traitor,” she mumbled, dropping her head back onto her pillow.

“Hey,” Steve said gently, sitting down next to Y/N. She ignored him.

He sighed. He wasn’t that good with awkward silence.

Slowly, he began to sing happy birthday.

“Stop it,” she interrupted, her voice thick. He sighed

“Y/N I’m sorry.”

“Who told you it was my birthday?”

“Bucky. I’m sorry I forgot.”

Y/N sniffled. “It’s fine. You’re not the only one.”

Steve froze, realizing he hadn’t seen Tony all day. “Your dad too?”

“Yeah,” Steve could tell she had started to cry again. He pulled her gently away from her pillow and into his lap, and she cried softly against his chest.

“I’m sorry I annoyed you,” she whispered.

“Don’t apologize. I should never have yelled at you.”

“It’s ok.”

“Captain Rogers, you’re wanted downstairs,” JARVIS announced.

“I’ll be right back,” Steve promised, kissing her forehead.

Steve was surprised when he reached the bottom of the stairs and was greeted by none other than Tony Stark.

“How is she?” Tony asked.

“Sad. But she’ll get over it, especially if you get up there,” Steve assured.

“Great,” Tony started up the stairs, but Steve stopped him.

“Please, no huge parties. I don’t think she would want that right now.”

Tony merely grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it all worked out. Go to the living room and you’ll see,” and with that Tony disappeared up the stairs.

...

“JARVIS, please don’t let anyone else in,” Y/N muttered. She didn’t feel much like being happy anymore. The only thing that could make her feel better was-

“Babygirl open the door.”

Y/N froze. No way. He was back?!

“JARVIS let him in!”

“But miss you-“

“JARVIS!”

Instead of a response, the door clicked and Tony entered.

“Hey kiddo,” he said quietly.

“Dad,” she didn’t even care anymore that he forgot her birthday, she was just glad to see him.

“Commere babygirl,” Tony hugged her tightly, and she smiled. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. Everyone else forgot too.”

“But I shouldn’t have. C’mon, let’s go downstairs,” Tony stood, pulling Y/N along.

“Dad, there’s not a big party down there is there?”

Tony laughed softly. “Just come down.”

...

Y/N grinned when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“You like it?” Tony asked.

“Are you kidding? This is great!” Y/N ran over to the huge table in the back of the living room, filled with about a dozen different kinds of ice cream and way too much candy. She turned and saw a pile of presents in the corner, and next to it a stack of dvds.

“Tonight we’re gonna open presents, eat ice cream, and binge watch every Star Wars movie,” Tony promised with a grin.

“Every one?” Steve whispered, and Nat elbowed him.

Y/N hugged Tony. “Thank you!”

He grinned. “You’re welcome baby girl.”

“But there’s one thing we have to do first,” she announced, wandering over to the couch.

“And what’s that?” Bucky questioned.

Y/N grinned and snatched up a pillow, swinging it hard at Bucky’s face, “pillow fight!”

Best. Birthday. Ever.

The End

[twokinkybeans]

FALLEN LIKE SNOW - CHAPTER ONE: PRETTY PLEASE

Written by @jeranasblog​ and Kinkybeanlien

(moodboard made by @jeranasblog​)

After an unfortunate run in with his boss – Tony Stark – and a paparazzi in an elevator, Peter Parker finds himself at the top of a piste, skis attached to his feet and living the trope he has only read about in fan fiction.

Will he only fall flat on his face in the snow? Or will he fall for his annoyingly selfish boss as well?

-

Notes: Adult Peter Parker, Fake dating, One sided enemies to lovers, No powers!AU, Mutual pining, Sugar daddy!Tony, Sugar baby!Peter, Fluff, Smut and Angst. Smut tags for later: Wet Dream, Dry Humping, Daddy Kink, Mirror Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Bondage, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Fingering, Edging, Lingerie, Dom/Top!Tony, Sub/Bottom!Peter

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Read Chapter 1 Pretty Please on AO3!

Ugh. Peter rolled his neck as he stepped into the elevator. He pushed his shoulder back and flinched when he cracked. This internship was a killer on his body. It was fun and educational, for sure, but he really needed to mind his posture. Being hunched over his desk was already taking its toll. If only he could afford a physical therapist… “Babe, hold the elevator, please!” In a reflex, Peter pressed the button to keep the elevator door open and he looked up to see none other than his boss, Tony Stark, rushing for him. His mood soured immediately and he considered pressing the button to close the elevator doors. As much as he liked the work he did, Peter wasn’t very fond of the person he was working for. Wait… Did Mr. Stark just call him “Babe?” When Tony got close to the elevator he shouted. “Close it, close it!” Peter pressed the right button. His boss probably thought he could squeeze in at the last second, but unfortunately for him, that’s not how elevators work. Tony threaded the needle as the door closed, but the sensor picked up on him and Peter snorted when the doors opened again. The young man glanced up and saw a small horde of paparazzi rushing their way. Suddenly, Tony pressed into his space and took over the button, pushing Peter’s hand aside and repeatedly tapping the button as if that would make the elevator doors close faster. Peter scoffed and stepped back, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Whoever let them in the building is going to get fired,” Tony seethed. “Maybe your security system is just lacking.” Peter said the words before he could think them through and if looks could kill, Peter would have been on the shiny elevator floor right now. “Mister Stark-!” One of the paparazzi, a young sprite who definitely didn’t look like she was with the gossip magazine her badge claimed her to be from, managed to get into the elevator. The doors closed, leaving the others behind. The elevator slowly started moving down. The three of them stood awkwardly. “I’m not answering your questions,” Tony said quickly. The paparazzi grinned and turned to Peter, who took a small, uncertain step back. “Well, then I’ll just ask your boyfriend.” “B-boyfriend?” Peter stuttered and glanced at Tony wide-eyed. The older man blinked once and wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulder. The boy’s brows curled up into a frown. “Ah, yes! We prefer the term ‘significant other,’ right, babe?” Tony stared down into Peter’s eyes, a demanding fire in them telling Peter he would lose his internship if he didn’t play along. Peter laughed awkwardly. “Right,” he stammered.  “What a scoop!” The young woman jumped once, only to realize they were in a moving elevator. She contained her excitement by almost literally vibrating in her spot. “Tony Stark’s new boyfriend! Or- significant other. What’s your name?” Peter’s lips pulled together in a pout. He sucked at his teeth and stopped himself from flinching when Tony’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Peter.” “Last name?” “Private.” “Peter Private?” “No, Miss, he doesn’t want to disclose his last name. Duh.” Tony rolled his eyes and relaxed a little, letting Peter’s shoulder go, only to move his hand down to Peter’s back. It was warm and present and Peter wasn’t sure if he was okay with it. It felt strangely good, though. “Fair enough, I’ll figure that one out on my own.” The woman winked and Peter wished he could just disappear. “So, how long?” “Couple weeks,” Tony replied before Peter could protest or give any kind of answer on his own. “I take it you’re bringing him to the annual ‘Valentine’s Ski Charity’ event?” Peter’s eyes went wide. He’d heard about Tony’s infamous parties that he liked to throw in the most expensive places; Tirol in Austria being one of them. The charity event always sounded like an excuse for Stark to go all out and spend bucket loads of money to bring over all his bougie friends to get drunk and have lots of sex. Something Peter would rather not be a part of. “Obviously,” Tony scoffed. Peter raised an eyebrow and tried to keep a straight face, but this was starting to become too much. This man was unreal. He was using Peter. What a dick. Before Peter could explain the truth, the elevator doors opened. The woman from the paparazzi was ushered away by security, but everyone outside the elevator in the lobby could see Tony holding Peter the way he was. The way people in a relationship would hold each other. Oh, God. Peter felt sick. He wanted to run, but Tony closed the elevator doors and asked his AI to take them up to his office. Peter could only stare at his boss with a mixture of fear and anger, feeling the press of his hand still on his back. The ride up is silent. Peter could tell Tony was prepping some kind of grand speech for when they would get up to the office. However, Peter was certain he could kiss his internship goodbye. … When the friendly voice of Tony’s AI announced the arrival at his private office, Peter was frozen, staring at the arm of his boss, which was still wrapped around his middle. Neither of them made any attempts to move and Peter desperately wished he was somewhere else. The uneasy feeling was getting harder and harder to ignore until finally Tony removed his hand from Peter’s back and stepped out of the elevator and into his office. “I’m sorry, Mr.- Peter.” Tony sighed, falling onto the chair behind his desk in theatrical fashion. He looked several years older when the fake smile that he had worn in the presence of the reporter vanished and Peter was plagued by an unwanted feeling of pity. Sure, his boss was a dick, but the discomfort on his face wasn’t pretended. “Could you do me a favor and take a seat?” Tony gestured at the empty chair opposite the desk and, reluctantly, Peter followed the order. This was the time he would lose his internship. He had worked for it since he was in high school and now that dream would crumble into a million pieces due to his inability to keep his mouth shut.  The silence was painful. Peter looked at his knees and fumbled with his sleeves. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. A million thoughts were running through Peter’s mind and he wished he could take his words back. Sure, scoffing at his boss was satisfying for a second, but it wasn’t worth losing the internship. When Tony still didn’t speak after several minutes, Peter got anxious and started to babble. “Look, Mr. Stark. I didn’t mean to insult your security system, but that’s no reason to take away my internship. I didn’t say anything to the reporters, I even played along, so just think about it before you fire me, please?” His voice died away the longer he was talking. “Mr.-?” “Parker, Sir.” His voice was dripping with venom as he called his boss ‘Sir’. “Mr. Parker, nobody said anything about losing the internship.” Fine, he would pack his stuff right away. He didn’t have many things at his desk, but he had to say goodbye to his coworkers at least- Wait, did he understand that right? He didn’t just get sacked? “I’m not fired?” He asked stupidly, staring at his boss with wide eyes. “No, Peter. You aren’t.” Peter didn’t comment on the familiar use of his first name, afraid to go too far so that Tony would change his mind. “But there is another thing I have to ask of you. Of course, there was a catch. Peter was talking to Tony Stark; one of the most selfish people on the entire planet. He would never let Peter get away so easily. “So, I basically told the world that you’re my ‘significant other’.” The painful expression on Tony’s face made Peter even angrier. “And I also said that you would come along to the ski event I’m hosting every year.” “Apparently,” Peter replied dryly, hoping he didn’t look too disgusted. Tony took a deep breath, his gaze fixated on Peter during his next words. “Peter, would you pretend to be my boyfriend during the event? I have to bring a date and we’ll be all over the news tomorrow anyways.”  Peter blinked, staring at his boss and waiting for him to laugh. This had to be a joke, Tony would tell him any second now, that he was just kidding. That Peter was fired. But another look at the tired face of his boss confirmed that he was actually serious. “You want me to do what?” Tony’s expression turned painful again. “I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend during the ‘Valentine’s Ski Charity’ event. Pretty please?” Fuck. Peter started to panic. He didn’t want to play Tony Stark’s boyfriend, he didn’t want to pretend that he liked the selfish man, and he definitely didn’t want to go to the stupid event where everyone would spend the day drinking alcohol and having sex with strangers. Hell, he couldn’t even ski. The problem was, he didn’t want to lose his internship either, so the decision was made before he could think too long about the upcoming weekend.  “I don’t have anything to wear.” Peter regretted his words immediately after they had left his mouth and he blushed furiously. Tony Stark, billionaire and playboy, was asking him, Peter Parker, for a favor and he could have asked for anything in return. He could have asked for a job after his internship or let his boss squirm with discomfort with hilarious demands. But instead, he had embarrassed himself, indirectly accepting the invitation while admitting that he didn’t have enough money to buy appropriate clothes.  “Don’t worry, kid,” his boss said with a big smile which made Peter sick. “We’ll get you something tailored. That’s the least I could do, obviously.” “Obviously,” Peter mumbled, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He hoped he had spoken quiet enough that Tony couldn’t hear it. Of course, the billionaire would take him to his personal tailor. How would it look if Tony spent time with a cheaply dressed person? At least, Tony Stark owed him something. Peter planned to take advantage of this promise. “All right.” Peter sighed, determined to get it over with. “Just tell me when and where you need me.” Tony grinned broadly as if Peter had just saved his day. Well, he probably had. The man tapped his tablet a few times. “I’ll pick you up tonight, 15th street, to take you to the tailor. Just bring yourself, I’ll bring the money.” He chuckled slightly, but the sound died down as he saw the petrified expression on Peter’s face. “Do I even need to ask how you got my address?” “Honey, you work for me. I didn’t even have to hack your phone.” A cold shiver ran down Peter’s spine and he quickly stood up to make his way out. “Don’t call me honey.” The words sounded angrier than he wanted them to. “Okay, okay.” Tony raised his hands to appease him. “Thanks again. I’ll pick you up at six o’clock.” “Goodbye, Mr. Stark.” Peter relaxed when the doors of the elevator finally closed behind him. Why did things like this always happen to him? Now he had to spend a horrible week in the middle of nowhere in Austria in the company of a man he despised. He couldn’t even get home alone if things would get too bad because there was no way he could afford a flight from Austria to the States. MJ would kill him when he would tell her how he handled the situation. The only thing he was looking forward to was the opportunity to learn how to ski.  … The elevator doors opened when Peter arrived on the ground floor, and one look at the crowded entry hall was enough for him to feel sick. Everyone was staring at him, the receptionist behind her desk, three men in expensive-looking suits at the end of the hall, even the cleaning staff stopped their work. Not even an hour had passed and the whole company knew of his ‘relationship’ with his boss. He felt like an animal in the zoo, caged in the small elevator and Peter wanted to take a lift back up, if it wouldn’t mean spending time with Tony Stark again. And he could definitely do without that. So, he gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and practically ran to the exit door. He tried not to listen, but he failed. “Isn’t he the one Tony Stark called his boyfriend? Why is a billionaire interested in someone so normal? Do you think he used sex to get his internship?” Peter heard his own blood rushing in his ears, and he swallowed, calming himself down because he didn’t want to cause a scene. They could say anything, that he is a sugar babe and just wants the billionaire’s money, but he couldn’t stand someone accusing him of getting his internship only because he had slept with the boss. Peter had worked hard for it every day. When he finally left the building, he was trembling, and his breath had quickened. Anger and fear raged inside of him, threatening to take him under and he fumbled for his phone in his backpack. It was all Tony’s fault. Of course, the billionaire would declare him his ‘significant other’ without thinking about the consequences for Peter. And now he even had to go shopping with him like a child that was allowed to buy new stuff with his Dad. The thought made his stomach churn. Tony Stark was a heartless and selfish person, but now it was too late to stay away from him. Peter was relieved when he eventually found his phone. He dialed the number of his best friend immediately. “Peter?” MJ’s voice sounded confused. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” Peter swallowed and pinched the back of his nose. How could he explain the situation? It was already a disaster. “I’m on my way home early. I have a problem.” “So bad, that you couldn’t even wait until you get home?” Now he could definitely hear concern in her voice. “Yes.” “Aight, shoot.” Peter pondered how to phrase it while he was waiting for the subway. He didn’t want all the people around him to know what’s going on. “So, you know my boss?” MJ sighed, and he could practically see her raising her eyebrows in his mind. “Pete, you know I do. You can’t spend a week without complaining about him. What’s it today?” “Hey!” She was right, MJ always was, but he had every damn right to dislike Tony Stark. The man was a plague, a curse, and the world would be better off without the playboy. Today, he had learned to hate the arrogant prick even more. When the subway arrived and Peter got in, he decided to tell it short. He didn’t have much time today because Tony-I’m-the-center-of-the-world-Stark would pick him up later. Brilliant. “You’ll read all over the news tomorrow that I am his new boyfriend.” There were a few seconds of silence before MJ started to choke and furiously coughed into the phone. “Jesus, Pete. A little warning would be nice. How did you manage to get yourself in such a situation?” “It wasn’t my fault,” Peter said defensively. “There were paparazzi following him. He wanted to escape and called me babe, asking me to keep the elevator doors open.” “He did what?” Peter wasn’t sure if MJ believed him. “I don’t know why he did it, MJ. And then there was this woman, and she started to ask questions, and then he wrapped his arms around me, and said I am his boyfriend and that I would come with him to this stupid ski event and-“ “Okay, Pete. Stop.” MJ interrupted his rambling. “Take a deep breath and tell me about it from the beginning. Peter obeyed and tried to calm himself down. He had been on edge for the last hour and becoming hysterical wouldn’t help him now. “Have you ever heard of the ‘Valentine’s Ski Charity’ event?” MJ chuckled. “Sure, Pete. You told me about it several times while you ranted about your boss.” Peter blushed, he didn’t notice before how much he was complaining about Tony, but he still thought it was justified. “When he told the press that I am his boyfriend, the reporter asked him whether I would come to this stupid event, and he said yes. Then he begged me to come along, play his boyfriend and promised me we can break-up afterward.” MJ roared with laughter and if his boss wouldn’t be such an asshole, he might have smiled himself. However, things were how they were, and Peter wished he could disappear for a week for the millionth time. MJ was still giggling, but she regained the better part of her control. “Peter, you can just say no. I don’t think he would fire you for that. Just tell him it’s your aunt’s birthday or something like that.” Peter paused. He hadn’t thought about that before. The fear of losing his internship had apparently switched off his brain and now he could hit himself for that. “It might be too late,” Peter confessed sheepishly while he got off the subway at his stop. “I didn’t react that well.” The silence that followed was uncomfortable. “What did you say, Peter?” He considered hanging up for a moment just to avoid her reaction, but it was better to get it over with while they were just calling. MJ would let him know her opinion anyway and it was easier when he didn’t have to look at her. “I might have told him that I have nothing to wear and now he is taking me to his personal tailor later.” Peter heard a loud thud, probably MJ banging her head on the table and it was followed by a long groan. “Peter.” “I know.” He started to panic, he didn’t want to fly to Austria, he didn’t want to spend a weekend in an overly expensive hotel and he definitely didn’t want to keep the mighty Tony Stark company. “MJ, I don’t want to go.” It was silent for a second and whatever he had expected, it wasn’t this. “You think you’ll lose your internship if you cancel?” “Yes.” “Do you want to lose your internship?” “No, of course not.” “Then stop whining like a child and enjoy the money your boss will be spending on you. Peter, you already said yes. Get over your stupid disgust and keep your promises.” Peter sulked for a second. He knew she was right and he needed to hear that, but it was so difficult to swallow the feelings. Just once, the billionaire should be let down. He should see what it feels like if you couldn’t buy something with money, that the world wasn’t centered around him. But Peter had already agreed, so there was no other option. “Fine, I’ll go. But for the record, I’m going to bug you with all my complaints in the next few days.” MJ snorted loudly. “As if that would make a difference; you already do it anyway.” Hey, that wasn’t fair. “Jerk.” “Coward.” He had to smile a little. At least he knew she would kick his ass if he would fuck something up. He adored his best friend, even when she was bossy sometimes. “Love you.” “Love you, too, Pete. Enjoy the weekend with your Sugar Daddy.” He hung up without saying goodbye. … Peter paced through his room. It’s a few minutes before six and all his mind could focus on was the fact that he was going to go to Austria. With Tony Stark. This weekend. Shit. He looked up the area and as gorgeous as it is, the whole situation was incredibly daunting. The nearest airport is Innsbruck. He figured that’d be important to know, should he need to get away. He got so caught up in his research, that he forgot the time. He can’t help it that Innsbruck is one of the hardest airports to land on because of the steep descent between all the mountains and the heavy updrafts? There are only a couple pilots who can actually fly via Innsbruck because the landing is deemed incredibly difficult and dangerous. That’s nuts! Ah, dang it, he was doing it again. But then, he’d rather think about the awesome videos of aircrafts landing and taking off at Innsbruck Airport than what he was about to do. Go shopping. With Tony Stark. Shit. Peter wanted to wear something at least slightly presentable, but with his measly college student budget, he didn’t have anything that could impress the CEO of his internship company. Who was Peter even kidding? Why would he want to impress Mr. Stark? The man barely glanced at him when they first met all those months ago. Peter looked up to him so much and when they first met, Tony straight up ignored him. He’s an asshole. Right? Popping the news to May was a whole other thing. Peter decided to only give his aunt half-truths, opting to keep the “fake dating” side of the story a secret. She was ecstatic, though. Her nephew was going to Austria for Tony Stark’s charity event! Ugh. She immediately rushed to the set of drawers in the living room to dust off his passport that he barely used and started gathering her inflatable cushion and other items that would make the flight more comfortable. While he appreciated May and everything she did for him, part of Peter wanted for none of this to be necessary. Why did he agree to this again? ... A strange combined rush of excitement and embarrassment washed over Peter when Tony rocked up to the poor student’s apartment building in his gigantic, polished Audi. Mr. Stark roared the engines a few times and Peter wasn’t sure if it was to get his attention or everybody else’s. Peter pretended he didn’t see his neighbors, who were walking their dog, watch him climb into the passenger’s seat of the insanely expensive sports car. He was quietly grateful that the windows were blinded. “Hey, kid,” Tony quipped. “Hey.” It stayed quiet, save for the car rumbling like a hunting lioness. Peter’s mind raced. He was in a car. With Tony Stark. Shit. Everything about this seemed so unreal, like a dream of which he couldn’t decide whether it was good or bad. The smell of the leather interior of the car tickled the insides of his nose and his fingers fiddled with the fabric of his jeans. Why weren’t they moving yet? Why wasn’t Tony driving? What is Mr. Stark waiting for? Oh, God. When Peter finally dared to turn his head to look at his boss, the man was staring back at him over his blue-tinted glasses with his eyebrows raised. “W-what?” Peter managed to stutter. Tony nodded at Peter’s chest and briefly mentioned what it was lacking. “Seatbelt.” ... “So,” Tony said after clearing his throat. The car ride had been silent and relatively awkward up until now. “I read up on you in your files, but you, Peter Parker, are very hard to read in person.” Peter pressed his lips on top of each other, forcing himself to keep looking out the window instead of at Mr. Stark. It’s not like Peter had a solid reply to that remark anyways. “If we’re going to do this, we’re gonna at least have to talk to each other.” “I know,” Peter sighed. He used the palm of his hand to rub his forehead while squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s just a lot all at once, okay?” Peter turned his head to look at Tony, only to find he wasn’t even holding the wheel of the car. It was driving itself. Peter stared at it wide-eyed. Tony cocked his head and showed a toothy grin with only one corner of his mouth curled up. “I like to tinker more than anything.” Great, Peter just voiced how insecure he is about all of this and Tony once again managed to turn the conversation to himself. “Modern Da Vinci,” Peter quoted the news sites, hoping that stroking his boss’s ego would help the situation. “Whoever said that is a liar,” Tony dismissed, tracing the leather of the wheel with his index fingers. Peter couldn’t help but stare at the rough hands and the way they caressed their property. Peter’s mouth went dry. He wanted – no, needed – to remind himself why his teenage crush on the man had crumbled. However, Peter couldn’t help how unfairly hot his boss was, even when he was nearing his fifties. Tony looked back up at Peter with raised eyebrows. “I don’t paint.” “Maybe you should.” Peter could hit himself. What was that kind of an answer? “I mean I could always just throw some grease on a canvas and call it art. Shit sells as long as you’re already rich and call it art.” “A lucrative business.” “Eh.” Tony shrugged. “I’m already surrounded by enough pretentious snobs. My art collection’s completely managed by my secretary.” Peter barely managed to hold in a snort. Pretentious snobs. Had the man never looked in a mirror? Or listened to himself talk? Tony pushed a hand through his hair and shifted in his seat so he could face Peter more easily. “Look, kid, I’m sorry for dragging you into this.” “To be honest, Mr. Stark, I’m not sure if you are.” The words left Peter’s mouth before he could think them through and he quietly sucked in a breath. “What are you implying?” Tony’s tone is slightly threatening and Peter bit his lip with frustration when his body betrayed him, as the blood started rushing to his member. Why was Tony’s authoritative voice so hot? It wasn’t fair. “You called me ‘babe’ in front of all the paparazzi.” “Honest mistake.” “Honest mist-“ Peter pressed his lips on top of each other to keep himself from finishing his sarcastic parroting. “Right.” “I’m not gonna lie, I wouldn’t have called you that if you weren’t as pretty as you are- God!” Tony dropped himself back against his seat and groaned. “I’m bad at this, okay? I figured I’d have a date- someone actually willing- for this stupid event, but I don’t.” Stark straightened his shoulders and glanced at Peter. “And it’s selfish of me to think that I can just ask anybody and that they’ll drop whatever they’re doing to help me. So, if you don’t want this, just tell me ‘kay? I’m big on consent. I’ll just pay some other guy to do this. You’re obviously uncomfortable.” “Stupid event?” “Is that literally all you got from that?” Tony scoffed. Peter squinted slightly but swallowed his snarky reply. Tony sighed. “This Valentine’s event was set up when I was still with Pepper and it’s been an annual thing for over twelve years now. The charity celebrates love.” Tony spoke animatedly, the movement of his hands emphasizing his words. “The event has one rule that I stupidly decided to implement when I was a cocky engaged prick.” He paused, blinking twice. “No donating when you’re single.” “Why not change the rule?” “Cause that’s even more selfish than implementing it in front of all of your single friends when drunk and enforcing it all the years you do have a relationship with a woman you don’t even love.” Tony pressed his lips into a tight, ingenuine smile and faced the road again. It faltered and the tired CEO Peter had seen earlier today is back. “This is one of the events I spend a lot of dollars on because I know how difficult love is. But with that said, I don’t want you or anybody to feel forced into this. Just say the word, kid, I’ll drop you off back at your apartment and I’ll be out of your hair.” It was quiet for a second before Peter’s shoulders relaxed and he eased back into the chair. Tony didn’t necessarily want Peter as a tool to show off. Tony wanted Peter so he could donate to his own charity event. Kind of weird, but not... Bad. It was weird how Peter kept creating images of who his boss is in his head that always ended up being contradictory to the truth. When he was younger his mind deemed Tony a hero. His teen self revered the man as a sex symbol. The first week of his internship was a dream come true and after the “Hi there, Mr. Stark, I wanted to thank you for-” “Don’t have time for you, bye.” incident it all turned sour. His adoration turned to distaste. The man was a selfish asshole to Peter for so long. And now... Now he was telling Peter all of this? That he’s... Good? In a way? It was all so confusing. But at least it made Peter hate the situation less. He knew this year’s charity was for LGBTQ+ youth, so Tony wanting to donate to the cause this badly must mean something. And it also meant a lot to Peter. He could definitely suck up and bask in a week of luxury and wealth and take the rich pricks for what they are if it means Tony pays the charity a good chunk of his cash stack. “So, how long ‘til we reach the tailor?” Peter said, looking straight ahead and trying to hide a smile. Tony didn’t even bother to conceal his happiness at Peter’s remark and sat back to enjoy the ride as well. “Couple of minutes.” … Even though Peter was cautious because he didn’t want to be let down again, he felt himself loosening up to Tony a little more as the evening went on. He couldn’t help it; the billionaire was charming and funny and smart... Peter rarely met anyone who was this easy to talk to. Mr. Stark seemed pleasantly surprised when Peter genuinely laughed at his niche joke about hydraulic engines and Peter even quipped one about thermal physics himself when discussing the clothes they’d be wearing on the pistes. Tony’s laugh was on loop in his brain for the next five minutes the tailor spent measuring each inch of Peter’s body. He made Tony Stark laugh. Something inside Peter stirred when the man behind the till told Tony what the tailored suit was going to cost. The stirring turned into something more when Stark handed the man his black credit card and waved it off. Three months of rent in Manhattan. For a suit. The next store Tony drove them to sold all kinds of winter gear. Peter said he’d be okay with just one outfit, but Tony wouldn’t hear it. Peter had to wear something different every day of the week. There was something about Tony staring at Peter’s body in the skin-tight thermal wear that made Peter turn his lower body away from the billionaire. Because the ‘more’ had turned to ‘even more’ at this point. And Peter didn’t want Tony to see what the tight clothes couldn’t hide. The clothes were starting to layer and pile. Store after store was visited and Peter was only allowed to fit the most expensive pieces of clothing. Cashmere turtlenecks and silk jackets, leather and suede shoes, even soft cotton underwear. Everything Peter would wear and carry had Tony’s money all over it. Peter ended up with multiple outfits for every day of the trip. He was never one for shopping, but Tony’s eyes staring at him, judging him, and his soft lips telling him to make a turn, and complimenting him, had Peter dizzy by the time they left the last store. He could barely contain a thrust of his hips and hold back a moan when Tony placed a hand on his shoulder at the last store as he handed the black credit card to the salesman who just scored the jackpot for his provisional sales percentage. “All for him,” Tony had said. Peter’s tailored suits would be express shipped to their hotel in Gerlos, as would all the ski gear. Once again, all Peter had to bring was himself. It was strange. Peter had to remind himself that Tony was doing all of this for a reason. If Peter feels confident and looks good, he’ll be a better and more convincing boyfriend. He was silently being bribed, Peter was sure of it. No matter how kind Tony may seem, he’s still the ass Peter met that one day. Certainly.

[freewheelshippin]

FIC: “be proud”

Let me indulge in the fantasy that I got to help, just a little bit, in making one of the only ballads on this earth I like. More “utapri characters that aren’t ranmaru” content than usual, especially Ai, since this is vaguely based on their Idol Songs album! 

Content warnings include an allusion to home invasion, Ranmaru’s usual backstory things (i.e. dealing with debt), and some eating/meal scenes. 

Ranmaru was surprised to receive the package, a fairly big box from someone he never expected to get mail from. Something in the pit of his stomach half-expected it to be everything he’d sent her, unused and returned to sender. 

For a second, he thought he was right. It was a similar array of trinkets and colors as the merch she’d designed for his album, but it quickly became obvious this wasn’t his merch, but hers. Trinkets from her shop, like patches and pins, and one of those handmade prints she liked making on weird paper. Candies he didn’t recognize, some American snacks he did, a little box of something that looked homemade with a hand-scrawled label on it. At the bottom, a shirt, printed with a cleaned version of an album art draft he’d especially liked but the agency didn’t approve. Folded within it, a note, written in English on one side and clumsy Japanese on the other. 

Yo, Kurosaki! 

I know I already messaged you thanks for sending me my comp copies of everything, but I wanted to return the favor! You really didn’t have to go out of your way get it to me like that, much less pack in all the other shit you did. But I’m glad you did! It arrived on the day I got another rejection, one I was really hoping would pan out. I got back all the time I would’ve spent feeling sorry for myself and instead just wanted to try again. That’s kind of the message I got from the sound of your album, so I guess it’s appropriate! 

Honestly, even if it was tough figuring things out sometimes, I had more fun on that job than any other one I can think of. You don’t have much to apologize for, I’ve survived way worse than some grumpy e-mails from a cool client, and you actually had pretty good feedback to offer. I think the end result was pretty metal. (Or well, rock, since it’s your shit, after all.) 

If you’re cool with it, I think it’d be fun to keep sharing our work with one another, outside of just being a client and artist. Get some fresh perspectives, you know? You know where to message me if you think so, too. 

-- M 

P.S. You’re the first person to get this custom pick I got designed. Be grateful (LOL). 

Taped to it, there was a pearlescent pick, red and black with white lettering. Ranmaru took it off, careful not to tear the paper, and ran his fingers over it. It wasn’t even close to the type he’d tolerate using if he wasn’t going to finger-pluck his bass. 

He clasped it in his hand, pausing for a moment, before he let out a ‘hmph,’ equal parts amused, relieved, and a little bit giddy. 

--------- 

“...Ranmaru,” Ai said, looking at him with those big saucer eyes. Sometimes Ranmaru felt like the guy never blinked, which made his curious once-overs scarier than he’d ever admit to. 

“What,” he growled back. 

“...according to every piece of data I know about you…” he started. He already didn’t like where this was going. “Nothing would point to you being the cell phone charm type.” 

“So?!” he barked, frowning at Ai as he self-consciously stuffed his phone into his pocket. It buzzed from a message notification, as if on disastrous cue, making a plasticy noise as it rattled against the charm. “What’s your data know about the real heart of people, anyway,” he continued, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. 

“It hasn’t been wrong about anything yet.” Ai tilted his head. “Why do you have a charm all of a sudden?” 

Because I saw she uses one of mine, Ranmaru answered frantically in his head, thinking back to the video chat they’d had where she showed it off. His hand was in his pocket, muffling his phone buzzing as more messages came in. He ran his fingers over the smooth pick, the subtle grooves where the letters were, the jagged hole he’d poked into it, the string that ran through it and knotted into a hole on his case.  Because she told me about how much she liked it, so I wanted to return the favor. 

“Why is this so goddamn important to you, Ai?” Ranmaru bristled. “Can’t we just get on with work already?” 

Ai stared at him a moment longer before shrugging slightly. “I’m simply curious. What would motivate you to act against your usual protocol seems interesting. But if you won’t tell me, I suppose there’s no use prying, especially when we have work to be done.” 

Ranmaru grunted back, leaning back to the table and looking over the notes. “We’re decided on what we wanna do for our duet, but we still have to decide on a direction for our solo songs on the album. Something that makes each of us stand out but doesn’t ruin the cohesiveness of the whole thing.” 

“You should do something slow,” Ai said, after a moment of thought. 

“Why should I?” Ai should know by now Ranmaru wasn’t about that sort of sound, especially when Ai already had the sad lullabies more than mastered. “Nothing about that’s very rock or wild. It won’t work with my image. Or do whatever that “gap” shit is that people like…” 

“Really?” Ai looked at him again. “Ballads are an intrinsic part of rock music, and wouldn’t it be ideal for communicating feelings that aren’t as energetic as your usual work?” 

“You should’ve just said power ballad in the first place,” Ranmaru grunted, but he had to admit it wasn’t a bad idea. “It’d work better with your usual style. And the duet, from how it’s going so far.” The biggest problem Ranmaru could think of was he couldn’t imagine what on earth he’d want to sing about in one. 

“Then it’s decided,” Ai said decisively. 

“...Oi, Ai, when did I say I agreed to this?” The kind of thing he’d rather shape into a ballad instead of his usual, urging style was a complete mystery, which Ranmaru didn’t like the idea of committing to in a partner project and on a deadline, even if it was months away. But like hell he’d admit that to someone else in Quartet Night, much less Ai, who’d just give him “logical” suggestions Ranmaru already knew he’d hate.  

“Was your reasoning not enough?” Ai tilted his head. Ranmaru met his eye. Something about the curiosity on that blank face felt less pointlessly prying this time. Now it was more like someone who just wanted to see something new. 

Ranmaru couldn’t fault him for that. And he was due to challenge himself in this way, anyways. 

“....Fine. Whatever. That means you can’t do your usual sentimental stuff. You should do something that’ll lift everyone up after the heaviness of the other songs.” 

“That sounds logical,” Ai replied. His eyes moved to Ranmaru’s pocket as it buzzed once again, but quickly turned back as they brainstormed ideas. 

-------- 

He wiped his eyes as he leaned back from the computer, surprised by how quickly and unbidden they came. He hastily tore up a strip of paper and hung it over the camera built into the laptop -- he knew it wasn’t on. This wasn’t a video call. But the idea of someone seeing him like this felt surreal and, frankly, too scary to confront right now. 

They chatted a lot more, now. It’d been about half a year since they’d started talking outside of work. It wasn’t just occasionally sharing art and music with each other anymore, either, it was a big stew of ideas, inspiration. A lot of breaking down what they liked in all the albums they shared with one another, and how they wanted to integrate all that in their work. Her siphoning gear and singing tips off of him, while she broke down expressions and visual composition to a science to help him out with modelling. And amid all that, something easygoing. Complaining about work, about weird clients, about shitty train rides, but also the nice parts of their days, too. 

He’d gotten short with her today, and she got frustrated with him. They argued -- for the first time since they’d tossed aside client-and-professional for friends-and-colleagues -- and it turned out she was as passionate a spitfire as he, assuming she got in the right mood. 

And in the middle of all that furious typing, she paused. 

M: You know, it’s kind of relieving to argue with you like this. 

Ranmaru was so startled, he forgot the point he was making. 

R: what the hell are you talking about?

M: oh, come on, we both know I’ve used diplomacy to handle your grouchiness before, and that worked fine enough then. But I just appreciate that I trust you enough to not take such a safe approach, for once, and the thing you’re most upset about is that I didn’t feel comfortable calling you out on your horseshit sooner.

Ranmaru didn’t have an answer for that as she typed on and off. He imagined if this were a verbal conversation, this would be the point where he’d just listen while she strung her thoughts together -- wordily, but getting to good enough of a point that it was worth letting her meander. 

Instead, she cut right to a point he wasn’t expecting. 

M: hey, I’m not taking back anything I said, but I probably should’ve asked sooner. Are you doing OK? You always get stuck in asshole mode for a reason. I don’t have classes to teach today, so you can bend my ear if you need to. even on voice chat, if you like, japanese or english. 

An uncomfortable wave of relief washed over him. He hadn’t told her about it, but things were the kind of stressful that pushed his stoic approach to its limits. Too many deadlines at work. Too many people there talking, too few saying anything he gave a damn about. Money was tight this month -- the debt collectors suddenly hiked up what he owed, and they’d banged down his door to “tell” him that. And another shitty argument with Camus, after he “freed” all his bananas for some ridiculous flambe parfait he just had to have for lunch on a day when Ranmaru couldn’t afford any. 

This was just how things were. Why was he upset about it now? He was beyond cursing how things had turned out for him. Making useless wishes when there wasn’t anything to do but work and survive until he didn’t have anything to lament. 

M: alright that’s a suspiciously long amount of time between messages for you when you’re riled up. are you OK? It’s fine if you’re not, and it’s fine if you don’t wanna talk to me about it, but i’m here if you want. If something’s really eating at you, that’s more important than me being mad. (for now, anyway)

It felt surreal as he leaned back to the computer and felt his fingers find the keys as he started finding the right words. 

R: it’s not a light subject R: and it’s not on you to deal with it M: LOL bro c’mon. M: I eat heavy for breakfast, and I said I’m here for you. M: lay it on me

He wiped his tears away with his sleeve. It’d been long enough since he’d cried that he didn’t even think about how it’d smudge his makeup and stain his clothes, but he didn’t especially care as he started to explain himself, the words coming out hesitantly until they coalesced into a small cascade of short, tight sentences, heavy with years of restrained sorrow he’d ignored so aggressively until now. 

--------- 

Recording Haruhana went well. Ranmaru expected it to, somewhat. Ai’s cold problem-solving could be annoying, but they never got in the way of the heart of his vocals. Their voices blended into an interesting harmony, and the acoustic guitar bridged their styles into a bittersweet sound they slipped into easily enough that recording sessions went uneventfully. 

“It does not surprise me, but.“ Ranmaru couldn’t bring himself to outright glower at Ai as they stopped recording and stepped away from the mics. “You’re very good at conjuring a strong, wistful image with your voice.” 

“Then why do you look surprised…” he grunted back, loosening and lowering the mic for whoever had it next. “...You do it well, too, but we already knew that.” 

“The heart of things you’re so obsessed with,” he said plainly. “It wouldn’t do if we couldn’t bring truth to the emotions we write about.” 

Ranmaru hadn’t given much thought to why Ai’s songs were so lamenting and sad, for the most part. He’d acknowledged they were genuine, had a tone color that suited him right, and made the fans happy. Truthfully, he’d only thought of those songs in the context of work -- Ai was a rival and a colleague he respected enough to sing with and not want to lose to, so he’d only looked at his songs from that standpoint, too. But Ranmaru realized better, now, just how good Ai was at sharing sadness that wasn’t so heavy it dragged people down with it. Wistfulness that grasped forward towards something, like a greater understanding. 

“How’s the ballad going?” 

Ranmaru clicked his tongue. “How’s your synthpop bubblegum bullshit going?” he shot back. 

“Well,” Ai replied, unfazed. “I have the chord progressions and kits mapped out.” 

“Good for you, then,” he grunted back. Great. So Ai was making good progress while Ranmaru hadn’t made any. 

“Are you struggling?” 

“Isn’t that the point of a ballad?!” Hopefully Ai couldn’t argue with that and would leave him alone from there.  

“Shouldn’t you defer to a composer or lyricist if you’re stuck?” 

Ranmaru glared at Ai. “If it’s a ballad, I should write it myself, not leave it to someone who’s just gonna put words and music I don’t mean into my mouth.” 

“Past data suggests you won’t back down about this,” Ai said smoothly, stacking the notes and papers they’d brought into the studio neatly. “I suppose I should wish you luck, in that case, and remind you this is my album, too, and it’s the fans who are most important.” 

“I know that,” Ranmaru spat, long done fussing with the mic. 

*************

R: you hate ballads, right  M: I sure do! :D  R: why  M: too slow for my tastes, sentimentality done like that isn’t my thing, don’t always feel genuine, you know   R: that’s literally every problem i have with the big project at work right now M: oh no you have to make a ballad?? Like….poppy enough for shining agency and all that? Oh boy.... R: what’s your advice to making a ballad you don’t hate, then  M: HMMMMMMMMMMMMM M: pass a kidney stone  M: WAIT RANDY COME BACK I’LL HELP FOR REAL  R: If you want to help why are you calling me randy?!  M: suffering is the root of all good ballads. I’m helping   R: can you at least remind me what the one ballad you like is  M: oh, turn on your light  M: judas priest M: it’s always judas priest  R: so why don’t you hate it R: other than it’s judas priest  M: oh, nothing big  M: my first gf just made me a mixtape and confessed with it is all M: and that was my entry point into western metal  M: sealing my fate forever as a queer metalhead and thereby forming the foundation of all my aesthetic, social, musical, and auditory sensibilities forevermore M: and some other stuff  R: oh is that all   “We are about to arrive at ____ station, please make your way to the doors if your stop is ____ station....” 

R: what’s the other stuff M: oh dw about it  M: it’s, you know, the stuff everyone brings to listening. the mushy baggage that lets ‘em connect with strangers. you know how it is

The train arrived right after that message went through, and he had to put his phone away over questioning her further. Recently, he’d felt more irritated with himself than usual. He knew he got this way when he felt he owed someone and hadn’t done his part to even the score. 

He was kind of in the same camp as she when it came to slow songs. Rock was about energy, passion, an urging sense of power, and even if he could understand why those slower songs were important, it didn’t mean they had to always resonate with him. He thought about their exchange. She dropped art into their chats a lot because, as she insisted, it helped having a musician look at her work, instead of another illustrator. And he liked her perspective for the same reason -- more personal than a fan, but more refreshing than everyone else at the agency. 

Really, it sounded like what made the ballad feel genuine was the context she could apply. It wasn’t just a song, but a personal gesture that singled her out from the millions of other people who’d hear the song and imagine it was for them. 

Ranmaru frowned as he exited the train station. The solution to his ballad problem was simple, so obvious he felt stupid for overlooking it. If he expected people to connect to his music, he had to give people something to connect to. All he had to do was what he always did -- just go for what his heart told him to. No frills, no fancy trimmings, just something he wanted to honestly express. 

He strung basslines in his head as he walked to his apartment. Let the music-making guide him, instead of demanding it follow rigid instructions. As he pushed the key into the lock, he caught the faint stain of his eyeliner on his sleeve. 

Don’t look at me … while I dry my eyes....

His stomach lurched a little, but moreso he felt his body surge with the truth of the song he wanted to write. The same rush of a surging venue, somehow, but with the kind of wistfulness and earnest desire he appreciated in Ai’s work more now. 

Tama had started to squeeze through the little crack in the door, investigating why Ranmaru had just stood there like an idiot for so long. 

“...c’mon, you little dope,” Ranmaru said softly, surprised how breathy he needed to keep his voice to get past the tightness in his chest. He squatted down, scooped the soft little creature up, and walked straight to his workspace. He did the once-over his apartment he’d gotten in recent habit of, seeing if anything had been seized by the collectors while he was gone, before depositing Tama on a cat tree where Mike was sitting. He hummed a melody that was quickly taking shape, his hands barely keeping up as he grabbed a scrap of paper, scrawling notes as fast as his hands would let him. 

*******************

Reiji looked up at Ranmaru in disbelief. Ranmaru scowled back. 

“If you don’t want it,” he growled, reaching for the box he’d put in front of Reiji. “I’ll fucking take it back.” 

“No! No no no, Ranran, I’m so grateful!” Reiji exclaimed, scrambling to slide it out of Ranmaru’s reach. 

“Humph! If I didn’t know of your peasant tastes,” Camus started from across the table. “I’d just tell you you’re better off skipping this slop.” 

“Oi!” Ranmaru pointed a spoon threateningly at Camus. “You don’t have to eat, asshole! You still owe me for ruining my bananas, and as far as I’m concerned this just means you owe me another meal!” 

“You think your pauper’s tongue deserves the fineries I’d select, I see,” Camus said challengingly, tilting his head and crossing his legs. Ranmaru was a hair trigger away from just throwing the box with Camus’s portion right at him. Maybe it’d ruin that stupid suit and he’d learn to shut up. 

“He-heeeey, Ranran, everything smells super good….I’m so excited to dig right in, but are those sauces I see?” Reiji interrupted. Ranmaru clenched his fist around the spoon as he turned his glower towards him.

He slammed the spoon down in front of Reiji. “Which sauce do you want, the spicy chili one or ketchup,” he managed through gritted teeth. 

“O- ohhh, wow! So gourmet! We have options!” Reiji cheered, in that singsongy way he did when he was trying to smooth over disasters. “Ranran, I knew you could cook, but I never knew you were so talented! I wonder what’s in ---” Ranmaru was losing his patience, and he grabbed the bottle of homemade chili sauce, hovering it above Reiji’s portion. The bottle sputtered as the air escaped, and Ranmaru’s grip threatened to explode the whole thing right then and there. “ -- I’ll have just a little bit of the spicy one, haha…” 

Ranmaru held his gaze a moment more before he focused back on the food, squeezing a reasonable amount onto Reiji’s portion. He opened the box with Camus’s, already dressed with a mountain of sweet chili sauce, stabbed the spoon into it, and slid it over. 

“Is this omurice?” Ai asked. Ranmaru handed him his own box.

“Is the rice in the omelet?” he grunted. “It’s just a stuffed omelet you eat with rice.” 

“Mm-mm! So good! I’ve never had spices quite like these! Is this a secret specialty dish you’ve been hoarding to yourself?” 

Ranmaru, at this point, just wanted to sit down and eat. “No,” he grumbled, hoping they’d get the picture. 

“I can’t recognize this preparation against any recipe I know of. Did you make it up yourself?” 

“It’s one from a friend, alright? She sent me a bunch of chilis and herbs and I had to make something to use them all up. If you don’t like it, then you don’t have to eat it. Stop asking questions and let me eat!” 

They ate quietly for a while, much to Ranmaru’s relief. Camus, of all people, was the one to end the silence. 

“Kurosaki,” he said, taking an odd tone for a conversation with Ranmaru. “....You will share the recipe for this sauce immediately,” he said, an odd hush to his voice. 

“And what if I don’t,” Ranmaru sneered back, feeling just a little smug. “You gonna pass out from a sugar crash and finally give me some peace?” 

Before Camus finished his reply, Ranmaru took a bottle from his bag and tossed it at Camus, who disappointingly kept his composure through the surprise. “Maybe you’ll learn to eat some meat, now that you’ve got a way to slather it in sugar.” 

The rest of Quartet Night all stopped again in surprise, the same way they did when Ranmaru said he’d made them all lunch for today. Their eyes burned on Ranmaru as he went back to his meal, and he tried very, very hard to not let it bother him. 

“...Ranran, you’ve been acting different lately. Did you--” 

“No,” he growled. “Whatever you think it is, no.” 

****************************** 

M: oh dang M: wow dude M: i really don’t know what to say 

Ranmaru stared at his phone in the dark, waiting as feedback from the other side of the world came in. 

M: you fucking nailed it. I don’t know how you did it, like a week ago this wasn’t anything. M: now it’s a whole new side of you i don’t think your discography’s shown off yet  M: the fans are gonna go apeshit 

The rest of the song came to him in the kind of exciting, passionate fervor where his hands couldn’t keep up with the ideas. The melody followed the bassline very naturally, peppered in by flashes of lyrics that slowly built and reorganized themselves. And from there, more instrumentation became evident. What he had now was just enough to make the soul of the song clear, finished late tonight in the studio. 

Already his head was filled with what more he could add, but they blended into blur of ideas he was too tired to separate. 

M: can I confess something? I mean, i don’t know why I’m asking, you’re probably already asleep  M: what you have here already made me cry a little bit  M: i don’t know what you did, but you made a ballad that works so well. It really feels personal and so full of the soul everyone loves you for, but there’s something really sad and kind in there that makes my heart squeeze.  M: and that’s even in the lyrics! (what i can understand of them, anyway haha) but you know how saccharine I find ballad lyrics most of the time!!!   M: then again, it is you. I don’t think there’s anything you could ever make that would feel disingenuous lmao  M: is it too late to ask if i can illustrate this album too....would Ai and the agency let me do that…. M: i can draw something that’s soft and rock as shit!!!!  M: anyways M: you’re probably dead asleep but just know this: good work, dude.  M: it really felt like you were saying something very heartfelt, even in this rough cut, and i think how personal that voice is is gonna make everyone feel such a feeling.  M: it sure made me feel one!

He locked his phone, tearing himself away from the slow stream of messages coming in. He laid on his back, phone facedown in the blanket, as he stared up into the dark swallowing the room back up again. Every part of his body felt like it was on fire, burning to get back into the studio. 

The lyrics weren’t complete yet. He wasn’t the poetic type, so it’s not as if he’d let himself overthink his words and lose their heart in too many revisions, but there were still blanks. The phrase that’d pull it all together, the words that summarized the message of the song, they still weren’t there, but he could feel himself getting closer. 

It was about paying an unspoken debt, and it was about shame, but above all, it was about pride. In himself, for letting himself reach this point, and in someone else. That was the sort of connection he could sing himself to tears with, whether on the stage, the studio, or the clean, edited album, and for that, he was proud. 

[blooms-of-ice]

RP Log: Some time in the past, Wyda welcomes Sven to the company! 

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn has spent the afternoon tending to the front yard. ‘Gardening’ (if you could call basically drowning plants in water that) and keeping everything tidy! With a broom gripped between her hands, she sweeps the stepping stones leading to the company building with a hum and a tune.

Sven Anovsch walks up slowly, seeing the person 'tending' to the lawn and stepping stones.  This unsocialized Hrothgar walks just enough to not step on the stones before clearing his throat and speaking. "Ahem, you are employed here?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn stops sweeping and gives Sven a beaming smile. “Hello! Oh, yes! I’m employed.” A beat. She clears her throat. “I’m one of the officers of Heartwood. What can I help you with?”

Sven Anovsch blinks and forces his head back at the sudden almost excited and quick response. "A-ah. Well good then." He takes a few steps forward. "I have been loitering around that tavern? Hall?" He shrugs before continuing. "In Ul'dah.  I saw a few fliers of other companies but figured I'd see if this was a proper one for me...." He realizes he is just talking to much. "I'm just looking for a position is all, what can I do to start that?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn steps to the left for a moment to lean her broom against the wall, and returns with her hands empty. She then presents an open hand to Sven and waits for him to shake it. “A recruit then? Welcome! All you have to do is shake on it.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “...Okay, there’s a bit more to it. I can walk you through what you can expect to do here, if you decide to join. Ahem. But we can get into the nitty gritty stuff inside over a cup of tea.”

Sven Anovsch cants his head looking down to her hand. "That...Is it? Ah, what of questions o- I see, I see.  I will agree to that so far." He extends his hand to take hers for a shake.  If it was just a normal shake, and no funny business, it would just be a normal but firm shake.  Expected of an average Hrothgar.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Let’s head on in. If we stay out too long, then we might get a nasty sunburn.” She eyes Sven curiously, and is about to ask him if Hrothgar can even get a sunburn...but she holds her tongue. Wouldn’t be polite. Wyda steps away and pushes the building doors open, ushering the recruit inside.

Sven Anovsch just perks a brow, but nodding as he follows her lead. "Thanks." He says as he is ushered through the door.

Sven Anovsch takes a decent look around. "Interesting floor." He just stares at the ground now.  Obviously completely confused on it and how it is even maintained here inside, though he focuses his attention back on Ais. "A nice building though.  A lot better than some dingy building that some companies have." He gives a quick chuckle.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn grins, suddenly feeling a little bashful even though it’s the house being complimented. “We take good care of the place...and we take good care of the members. One sec.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn grabs a folder of documents from the front table and then dashes over to the cafe. Bam, the papers go on the table. Bam, she brings over a pot of tea and a couple of sweets from the bakery. And then bam, she sits herself down and gestures for Sven to join her.

Sven Anovsch gives a nod. "It seems your company does take good care of the place." He follows along and sits down across from Ais. "Do you treat all recruits like this? Or is it a ploy to persuade anyone who wishes to join?" He smirks lightly.  Is this a joke? Who knows, but now his eyes lay on the papers.  A sigh and nothing further said as he stares.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “All genuine! Nothing fake about this.” She grins, and then pulls out a pencil with the intent of filling out the form in front of her. She stops the moment she tries to fill the first square. “Shoot! What’s your name...what’s my name! I’m Wyda. Ahhh, I was so excited that I forgot the first step in talking with people.”

Sven Anovsch widens his eyes as he forgot himself as well. That's it...He blew it...Another awkward social interaction. He shakes his head before finally speaking. "Sven, it's Sven.  Apologies." He sighs, shaking his head.  He is better suited for working rather than talking most definitely.  Stupid hermit Hroth.

(Sven Anovsch) Love it xD ) (Sven Anovsch) Sven just literally hasn't talked to anyone since he was like 14 or 15 and he is in his early 30's now haha ) (Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) he's pretty good at talkin for someone who hasn't talked for 15 years! O_O )) (Sven Anovsch) Lmfao well he's been here for like a few months aaand I don't feel like typing like that xD ) (Sven Anovsch) May seem awkward, but he's smartish.  He tried suuuper hard to learn the language.  We will go with that lmfao )

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Sven! That’s a nice name. S-v-e-n...Sven.” Wyda fills in the first box. “So, we’re a group of adventurers from all sorts of places. Limsa Lominsa, Ul’dah, Coerthas...you name it. Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

Sven Anovsch is obviously not too excited to talk about himself, though he knows he must. "Thank you. Ah, well I am a warrior, of course.  I have only recently came down from way up beyond Ishgard.  You can imagine why I am sure.  Though, I am not opposed to groundskeeping, brewing or stilling.  But I still flourish with fighting, as it seems typical around here to be anyways." He wonders if that suffices.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn nods as she listens and jots down notes based on what he’s telling her. Ishgard. Warrior. Groundskeeping. Brewing. “Quite a journey if you made it on foot. Now, we’ve got a gardener already, but I’m sure she won’t mind a helping hand now and again. But brewing...now that’s interesting! Erm..” Her eyes light up as her inner alcoholic tries to make itself known. Wyda scrunches her face for a second and forces it back down.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn:  “Ahem. ‘Fighting’ is generally how we pay the bills. Guard jobs, hunts, you name it. It’s dangerous, but everyone here is someone you can trust your life with. And if you -do- get hurt, we’ve got a clinic in house.”

Sven Anovsch actually smiles and nods. "Yes, was mainly on foot until I got a bit of coin to be able to afford going down to Ul'dah.  A fellow Hrothgar told me it is friendliest to travelers there? Or at least to him.  But...I've been stilling a few things for many summers, I've tried a bit at brewing.  Not as tasty as like stilling mead or just the stuff that makes you pass out, but good regardless." He chuckles for a moment before continuing. "Seems with at least fighting, I fit in, yes?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn leans back in her chair. Ah, Ul’dah...the city of opportunity, but also the city of shady deals. “Before I found Heartwood, I went to Ul’dah too. Nice enough place, but I’m glad to be where I am now. And I think you’ll fit right in - you’ll find we’re all weird in our own way.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Do you think you could show me how to brew alcohol sometime? I’m a bit of a...” Her mind searches for the right word. Drunk? Accurate, but no. “I’m a connessier.”

Sven Anovsch smiles warmly at that. "It's a bit barren down in Ul'dah.  Opposite of what I am used to, but I suppose it does have good food." He chuckles before continuing. "I'd be happy to show you though.  It takes a while, but if you do it right, it comes out quite good.  By my standards at least."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn fills a cup of tea for herself and Sven. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it! When you make something with love, then it will always taste good.” Wyda says this with absolute seriousness, completely unaware of how cheesy she’s being. God, the cheese.

Sven Anovsch blinks at that.  Feta cheese. "Yes...Or just the good quality hops." He chuckles looking down to the cup of tea she poured for him.  He reaches to pick it up, giving it a sniff before continuing. "How many members are working here?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn similarly picks up her teacup and wraps her hands around it, appreciating its warmth. “Hm...60 to 70. But some folk are the type to return home in a blue moon while they’re doing their own thing. Certainly, there are regulars like myself. And if you hang around the bar, you’re sure to see the same faces quite a bit.”

Sven Anovsch gives a nod. "Then perhaps I will linger around here more often.  I'm assuming this company also partakes in contracts that require bigger groups?" He sips at his tea which leads to an odd reaction.  Not a displeased one, but one of just curiosity as he sniffs the tea again? why? He takes another sip and just holds it under his face a bit as he waits for her response.

(Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) lmao what is this strange hot leaf juice xD )) (Sven Anovsch) Lmfao, he's used to his shitty teas he learned to make which are essentially just random shit mixed together.  Comes to Eorzea and holy shit there's good tasting tea? Not just 'medicinal' kinds? haha )) (Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) now he's in the lap of luxury, comparatively ))

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Yeah, maybe...once or twice a month. Depends on whether Eorzeas on fire or not.” She shrugs her shoulders with a lighthearted chuckle. “We’ve fought all sorts of things. Amal’jaa, robot spiders, an aether sucking auracite...It can get pretty dangerous, not gonna lie. I much prefer the time between jobs where we can just kick back and relax.”

Sven Anovsch cants his head. "Robot spiders...?" That's a new one to him.  Robot?  He shrugs. "Complacency can kill someone, so don't let yourself get too comfortable and relaxed." There it is, the boneheaded Hrothgar attitude. "So, you have me convinced.  I'd like to join.  What all must I do?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn sighs. How she wishes she could relax forever...but she can’t. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she was slacking around while others risked life and limb for the good of Eorzea. “Not much. Just sign here, and here.” Wyda points to two spots on the forms. They’re the usual stuff found on free company applications. The company isn’t responsible for any untimely deaths, a promise to represent the company in a positive light, etc...

Sven Anovsch can't read...What does he do...He looks over where she pointed but somehow already lost his place on where he is supposed to sign...Sign..? What does that exactly mean. "Uhm..." Is all he says.

(Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) oh noo )) (Sven Anovsch) Lmao BUT HOW DID HE FIND THIS PLACE?!?! wonder of the universe lmfao lots of awkward interactions in asking for help lmfao )) (Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) the universe is a magical and mysterious place............... )) (Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) wyda isn't much sharper tbh ))

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn looks up at Sven, then down at the paper, and then back up. You can practically hear the gears move in her head. “Oh! Umm, just. Just do this. Please hold still.” Wyda tries to blacken the Sven’s fingertip with the end of her pen, in an attempt to use his fingerprints in lieu of a signature.

Sven Anovsch just lets her do what she is doing. "I think I understand..." He then takes his freshly inked fingertip and just makes a smudge with it.  Not a fingerprint...A smudge... He looks up smiling. "There! It all works, yes? I must admit, I am quite excited to see where this company can take me.  It smells positive here, which is a good thing before going out and fighting or something like that, yes?"

(Sven Anovsch) I try to fill in logic holes as I go lmfao. )) (Aiswyda Nuthalwyn) fdsf this is cracking me up ))

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn picks up the paper and holds it against the light. The smudge is immediately noticeable, like a bowling ball in a field of snow. “Hm.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Perfect!” She practically glows with positive energy.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “And I’m excited to welcome you to Heartwood! So I’ll say it again...welcome, friend!”

Sven Anovsch perks up even more. "Great! I shall eventually bring all my brewing stuff over.  I'll even let you use it as you wish.  Best way to learn is just experiment." He chuckles. "But, I look forward to working with the people here." And a confident nod at the end there.

[margoshansons]

Ship Broken: Ficlet

Title: What If I’m Just Broken?

Summary: after discovering her new disability, Sara reaches out to a friend for help.

pairing: WonderCanary

notes: I had this thought immediately after seeing what happened to Sara in the current episode. I really hope it actually amounts to something and isn’t “just for the rules” like a lot of the tropes its used for. 

warning: angst, self-loathing, depression

*** SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT ***

A voice called out to her. She could barely catch the outline of the figure, but it looked vaguely familiar. Her shoulders spazzed, jolting her briefly out of the vision and back into her bed. 

Her breathing was shallow, soft water dripping down her face, hand reaching up to touch what she had lost. Darkness enveloped her. Sleeping was the only way she could see anymore. But when she slept...she shook the thoughts away, turning to the side, her toes barely grazing the floor. She was close to it.

Her hand patted the cotton sheets, searching for the edge of the bed, pressing herself upward when her fingers curled around it. Her balance wavered, and she threw her arms up to keep herself standing. When she stood up she finally realized what little spacial awareness she held. It was different than the league. She had spent years there, just like her home. But here, on the Waverider. Things were always moving. She had no time to focus on where everything was. Her body just...knew it.

She supposed that was what she had to go off of. She felt like an idiot as she reached her hands out in front of her, taking baby steps to avoid tripping over the clothes she had haphazardly tossed on the floor, dragging them with her until she collided with the metal, finally finding the doorknob and pushing it open. 

From there she followed the wires. She had been meaning to get them fixed for ages. Had even badgered Behrad about it. But now she was grateful that he was always too stoned to do it. The piping was a welcome change of texture and when it transitioned to metal, she knew she had reached the Bridge. 

“Gideon--” shame overwhelmed her as she stuck her hands out again, trying to feel for anything she remembered. 

“A few steps more Miss Lance,” The AI replied, “You’re almost--” “I can do this myself!” Sara snapped, her fingers finally grasping the top of one of the chairs, hopping around until she finally settled. “I just...I need you to contact Alex,”

“It is the middle of the night Captain--”

“Would you just do it?!” Sara snapped again, gently laying her forehead in her hands. Her eyes were open and yet all she saw was darkness. She hated it. Hated that she couldn’t get up properly. Hated that she couldn’t see the bright silver of the Waverider anymore, or her teammates, or even the dark green of the temporal zone. Hated that everytime she moved she had to reach out in front of her like a child learning to walk for the first time.

She was useless now. How could she be an effective leader when she couldn’t even see?

A beeping was heard over Gideon’s network and a sleepy voice brought her back to life.

“Hello...?”

“Alex?” Sara asked, unaware of how sharp her hearing had gotten, “Is that you?”

“Sara?” Alex responded, sounding like she had just woken up, “What’s going on? is the team okay?” “who is it?” Ray’s voice was tinny but it was there, and it suddenly struck just how much she missed them. 

“Hey guys,” Sara spoke, trying to keep herself from getting too choked up, “I’m uh, I’m sorry for the late call but...I didn’t know who else to turn to,”

“Sara, what happened?” Alex’s concern soothed her. God how she missed her. “Are you okay? Is the team--” “The Team’s fine,” Sara cut her off, voice shaking as she tried to find a way to get the words out, “Alex I’m--I don’t--I can’t--”

“Sara, what’s wrong?”

The dam broke, and hot water burned a trail down her cheeks, hand gently crawling up her throat until the pads of her fingers met her lips, unable to stop the sob from leaving her mouth, “I’m blind, I can’t see anymore,”

“Oh my god,” was the last thing she heard from Alex before the dial tone rang, and Sara let it all out. 

Fuck. She hates me. Hates me for waking her up and tearing her away from Ray. Hates me for burdening her with Legends stuff when she wanted to leave. Hates me for being so fucking--

“Sara?” It sounded so close. Almost right by her side, and she shot up at the sound of the Amazon’s voice. Apparently it was too fast, because as soon as she took a wide step, she fell forward, unable to see the ground as she plummeted towards it. only darkness.

Arms caught her. Arms that she recognized. Alex really was here. She had dropped everything and come back. “Whoa, hold on, I got you,” Alex reassured her, helping her get her footing back, “I’m leading you back to the seat okay?” Sara nodded, letting Alex guide her. 

Fuck she had missed her so much. It felt like ages since she had left. Since she and Ray had both left. “Is Ray--?”

“No,” Alex gently brought Sara’s weight back down in the seat, brushing her hand across the former assassin’s face. The touch was soothing, and Sara felt her shoulders relax, “He knows though, he’s at home right now, looking after the kids,”

“Kids?”

A chuckle met her confusion, “Right, I forgot we didn’t really tell anyone,” Alex continued to chuckle to herself, thumb scraping across the back of Sara’s hand, “We had another kid, a daughter, we named her Minerva Sara,” 

She broke out into a smile, her cheeks hurting from the unfamiliar gesture. 

“Minnie for short,” Alex explained, her hand never leaving Sara’s.

“That’s-- Alex I’m so happy for you guys,” Sara’s words caught in her mouth, unable to focus on anything except the fact that she couldn’t see how happy her best friend was. She wanted to see her face so badly. To look her in the eye and tell her that she was gonna be the best Aunt the kid would ever have. But she couldn’t even do that.

She wouldn’t ever be able to see her best friends’ kids. To hold them without worrying about dropping them. 

She could practically feel the pitying gaze Alex was giving her, and something bubbled in her chest, tearing her hand out of the Amazon’s. 

“Sara what--”

“It’s not fair,” She spat, unable to hold anything back, “It’s not fair that you’re happy and thriving and with your family and I’m stuck here unable to do anything at all!”

She wanted to take the words back as soon as she said them. Instead they continued. “I don’t want your pity, and I don’t need it. I’ll figure this out like I always do,”

“Sara--”

Her sobs cut off Alex’s response again and she felt her neck bob forward, head falling forward into her arms, muscles squeezing around her now defective eyes as she began to hyperventilate, arms wrapping around her shoulders. It only made her more nervous. 

“Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Alex spoke up, whispering her actions into Sara’s ear, sounding like a mother teaching her child where to put their hands, “Hey, I’m here, I got you,” Sara felt a hand wrap around her head, pulling her into the crook of Alex’s neck, squeezing tightly, “And we’ll get through this, I promise.”

Sara squeezed back, nuzzling further into Alex’s shoulder. She hoped she was right.

*** a/n: I hope I did okay with my portrayal! I don’t know what it’s like to be blind at all, so please feel free to correct my mistakes by shooting me a DM! 

permanent taglist: @witchofinterest @abbysarcane @foxesandmagic @perfectlystiles @darknightfrombeyond @twinmasks @ocfairygodmother @kcnobls @erzascarlettitania @iron-parkr

the leftover children taglist: @the-october-reviewer @raging-violets @randomestfandoms-ocs @mystic-scripture @randomfandoming1

[mamthew]

A Final Fantasy Ranking

Over the course of the quarantine, and because I had such a good time with the Final Fantasy VII Remake, I've ended up blazing through a ton of Final Fantasy games. Since April, I've played IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XII, and XIII. 6, 7, 9, and 10 I'd beaten before. 4, 12, and 13 I'd played to some capacity before. 5 and 8 were completely new experiences. I had no interest in going further back than IV, since it was the first one to really put any effort into character work, and I didn't play either MMO because MMOs don't really appeal to me (I'm planning to try XIV whenever this new update drops that makes the story mode more accessible, but it keeps getting pushed back so oh well). I also didn't replay XV because I've played XV three times and watched other people play it in its entirety twice, so I have a much better handle on it than any other game in the series.

Anyway, I didn't really have any plans for what I'd do with this, besides get a better understanding of the series as a whole, but I was kinda inspired to do my own Final Fantasy ranking. I'll probably be a bit more detailed than I should be because I tend to overanalyze my media and end up having too much to say. I’m actually not placing VII Remake in this ranking half because I regard it as a spinoff and half because it’s not yet a complete story, even though Part 1 is unquestionably a complete game. If I were to put it somewhere, it would probably be close to the top, possibly even in second place. Also worth noting that this is gonna have SPOILERS for every game I discuss here. I really just wanna use this as a place to nail down some of my thoughts on these games, so they’re pretty stream of consciousness and I didn’t bother avoiding any details from the plots.

10: Final Fantasy VIII.

I don’t think there’s another game in the series with a more obvious corporate hand in it than VIII. It’s kinda the Fant4stic of FF games; there are the bones of a substantive game in there somewhere, but every aspect of the game is such a bald attempt at checking off a 1999 list of “things gamers want” that the whole affair feels hollow and sickening. A major trend I’ve noticed throughout this series is the extent to which FFVII’s success pushed the architects of almost every subsequent game to try to recapture whatever it was that worked about VII, and VIII got the worst of it. It’s got the sullen guy with a special sword. It’s got the sci-fi. It’s got the terrorists with hearts of gold fighting against an oppressive state. It’s got the train scenes. It’s got the case(s) of amnesia that hides the true premise of the story. It’s got the ability to give any character any loadout.

Besides that, they kinda crammed in just a bunch of stuff popular with kids at the time. Jurassic Park? It’s in there. Beauty and the Beast? Here’s the ballroom scene. Hunchback of Notre Dame? Here’s that carnival. Alien? Now you’re alone on a spaceship running away from a horror monster. Saving Private Ryan? The party shares brains with war veterans and dreams of their experiences at war I guess. Half of anime? It’s all about a high school for mercenaries and the party is trying to get back in time for the school festival.  Fandom culture? Zines are a collectible item, and each one you find adds an update to Selphie's Geocities page. It also has astronauts, and transformers, and a haunted castle, and a prison break, and Rome, and Alpine Wakanda, and war crimes, and lion cubs that have attained enlightenment, and there’s almost no connective tissue from one idea to the next.

Also the junction system is convoluted and terrible, using magic makes your stats worse, all enemies level up every time you do, and I couldn’t tell you which character excelled in what stats. The characters were all very flat, and the first time I felt like I was seeing the characters interact in ways that helped me to understand them was in the cutscene that plays during the end credits.

Also the female lead’s role in the story changes entirely with no warning every five hours or so. She’s a terrorist, oh no she’s aristocracy in the country she’s terroristing against, oh no she’s jealous of the others because they grew up together and she didn’t, oh no she’s Sandra Bullock in Gravity, oh no she’s the villain and it’s too dangerous to let her out, oh no it’s actually fine and they were bad for locking her up.

It’s an absolute disaster of a game. However, the music and background art is absolutely beautiful. Maybe they never gave me a good enough reason to be in an evil time traveling haunted castle, but damn is it a gorgeous rendering of an evil time traveling haunted castle.

9: Final Fantasy XII.

I’ve known for years that FFXII had issues in development. The writers came up with a story for it, and execs got scared because there were no young characters and they’d convinced themselves that young protagonists are what makes games sell. So two more characters - Vaan and Penelo - were added, one was framed as the protagonist of the story, and the entire story was rewritten so it could feasibly be from his perspective.

While the two characters they added are egregiously tangential to the plot, XII honestly has no protagonist. The writers originally wanted Basch to be the protagonist, but his entire arc is really just following Ashe around and being sad about his evil twin. Ashe is probably the most important to the story, but doesn’t have much presence for a good chunk of the story, and makes her most character-defining choice offscreen before having it stolen from her by a side character. Balthier has the largest presence in the story, and is most closely related to most of the events of the story, but has pretty much no role in the ending.

Honestly, if I were writing FFXII and told it needed a young protagonist, I would have aged up and expanded the role of Larsa, the brother of the main villain, who shows up as a temporary party member from time to time. The entire game is about family ties, and a journey spotlighting Larsa could have involved his learning about Ashe, Basch, Balthier and Fran’s family situations and using their experiences to grapple with his own. Damn, now I’m sitting here thinking about how good that could have been.

As it is, the game feels disjointed and aimless, and the ending is so bad it’s farcical. When I reached the ending, I watched Basch and Ashe forgive Basch’s evil twin for his villainy rampage, harking back to the moment earlier in the game when Ashe turned down the chance to gain powers that would have allowed her to avenge her country because she realized that those powers could also drive her to hurt innocents in the crossfire. In this moment, I realized how Vaan fit in as the protagonist of the game. “Oh, he’s going to realize that violence begets violence, and that he must break the cycle by forgiving Vayne for the death of his brother. He’s going to let go of that hatred he’s been trying to push onto someone for so long, and it’ll finally allow him to heal.” I realized that even though the road to this point was rocky, the writers had managed to craft a satisfying ending from the seemingly disparate pieces of this uneven plot.

And then Vaan picked up a sword and screamed AAAAAAAAAAA and charged Vayne down and stabbed him, and Vayne turned into a shrapnel robot dragon and exploded all the star wars ships and I threw my controller aside and laughed uncontrollably while my characters beat him up and completed the game on their own without any further input from me.

Oh yeah, the battle system is also incredibly boring. Instead of battling, the player writes up an AI script for each character, then lets them act based on those scripts. I would straight up put the controller down and watch youtube videos whenever a group of enemies showed up. I was pretty excited about the job system, but then there didn’t really feel like much of a difference between jobs, and my characters all behaved pretty much the same as each other.

The hands-off battle system, unfocused story, lethargic voice acting, and tuneless music all left me pretty uninvested in the whole affair. The art style and locations are beautiful, though, and it did make me want to eventually check out some of the Tactics games, which take place in the same universe but are supposed to have excellent stories and gameplay.

8: Final Fantasy XIII.

I’m not sure I’ve ever had two such opposing opinions of a game’s story vs. its gameplay. This game is the only one that plays with a bunch of story elements from FFIX, which did a lot to endear it to me. It’s sort of a game in which the protagonists are Kuja, the villain of IX. Like Kuja, they are created as tools by an uncaring god for the purpose of fighting against one world on behalf of another world, and are subsequently forced to grapple with the horrors of having an artificially shortened lifespan.

The story actually has a lot of Leftist themes, too. The gods of that universe spread ideology among the populace, and the people unquestioningly believe these false stories, as the gods have provided for them for as long as there has been written history. Much of the character arcs center on the characters being forcibly removed from their places within those ideological frameworks and having to unlearn what they’d always believed to be objectively true about the world.

So the story actually is pretty good, but it’s held back by some really clumsy storytelling; it constantly uses undefined jargon, has almost no side characters with which it might flesh out the world, actively fights against players trying to glean information from environmental details, and maintains (at least for me) a weird disconnect between the characters in the gameplay and the characters in the cutscenes. I think this partly stems from Square’s original failed plan for FFXIII to be the first game in a much larger series of games sharing themes and major story details. Despite these issues, however, the characters are all likeable and (mostly) believable, and their interactions are grounded in real emotional weight even while their universe feels intangible.

This all got dragged down by the gameplay, which is total dogshit. It’s got the worst battle system I think I’ve seen in an RPG. The game only stops being doggedly, unflinchingly linear about thirty hours in, the whole game took me about fifty hours, and I spent the last fifteen hours beating my head against each individual battle, waiting until the system hiccuped long enough to accidentally slide me a win. That meant I had about a five hour window of euphoric play, convinced that I actually loved this game, thrilled with every new experience it gave me, and excited to see what would happen next. I guess those five hours are what pushed this game over XII in my ranking.

7: Final Fantasy V.

Until FFXV, this game was the last of the “Warriors of Light” games, in which the game follows a party of four set characters for its entirety. To this day, it’s the last of the “Warriors of Light” games to let the player customize which character holds which roles through the job system.

FFV’s job system is the reason to play the game. Its story is mediocre, and its characters are all fairly flat, but there’s something viscerally satisfying about building party members up in jobs that might enhance the role they ultimately will fill. For my mage character, I maxed out Black Mage, Blue Mage, Mystic Knight, Summoner, and Geomancer. Then at the end, I switched her to a Freelancer with Black Magic and Summoning, and she kept all the passive skills for those jobs and also the highest stats across those jobs.

It was super fun and kind of a shift of focus for me, since I tend to place story above anything else in games. Despite the story not being special, though, the game’s writing is actually a ton of fun. It’s definitely got the most comic relief in the series, and I came away loving Gilgamesh as much as everyone else does.

And while it’s nothing special graphically, it does have some really cool enemy designs, and the final boss design is one of the most memorable ones they’ve ever done. Which is impressive because I keep having to look up Exdeath’s name because the character himself is super forgettable.

6: Final Fantasy IV.

This wasn’t the first game in the series to feature actual characters with names and depth, but I have no interest in playing FFII, so it might as well be. I actually played the DS Remake for this game, so it definitely had some quality of life improvements, like full 3d characters and maps, voice acting, an updated script, the ability to actually see the ATB gauge, and the ability to switch to other characters whose turns are ready without using a turn.

Apparently one thing the remake didn’t do was rebalance the difficulty for more modern sensibilities. Instead, this remake is...harder? It requires more grinding than the original? Why??

Either way, though, the story is actually solid! The game opens on its protagonist, Cecil, committing a war crime on the orders of his king, who raised him as a child. The first ten hours of so of the game follows Cecil as he tries to understand why he was ordered to kill so many innocents, turns his back on his country, and works to redeem himself.

This arc is reinforced by the game mechanics, too, which is super clever. His redemption is marked by a change in job from a Dark Knight to a Paladin, which also resets his level. For a time, his life is considerably harder because he’s finding his footing as a new person, which is marked by battles which had been easy becoming much harder for the player for a time.

This game places storytelling over gameplay more than I think any other game in the series. Each character is locked into a job, which I much prefer in my RPGs to games where characters function pretty much interchangeably. I dunno if it’s because I cut my RPG teeth on Tales, but it really bugs me when I can give Tifa the exact same loadout as Barret. I want the lives of the characters to bleed into their functions as gameplay devices.

However, the developers clearly had a ton of different jobs they wanted to add to their game, but hadn’t figured out how to allow for the player to switch in and out party members in standby. To fix this, they increased the in-battle party to five characters rather than or four (or the later constantly frustrating three), rotated the roster a ton, and had a ton of characters who straight up leave permanently. One character dies and never comes back. Two characters die and only are revived after it’s too late to rejoin the party. Four characters end up too injured to continue traveling.

This let the developers make a ton of jobs, but it doesn’t let the player exploit these jobs to their fullest. Characters’ stats reflect their role in the story, as well. One character is quickly aging out of adventuring, so his magic stats increase on levels, but his attack and defense stats actually decrease, signifying his failing body. Another character has already achieved some form of enlightenment, so he gains no stats when he levels up at all. The purpose of IV is the story, over any other aspect of the game, which makes it even more mindboggling that the remake would have increased the difficulty.

Besides that, the biggest issue I had with this game was the overbearing constant drama of it. While there were a few more lighthearted parts, they were mostly relegated to NPC dialogue and sidequests. The characters in this game don’t become friends so much as they become companions who bonded over shared tragedies, and this makes for quite a few scenes of every character separately wallowing in their own immeasurable sadness. I played FFV directly after this game and the light story and jokey dialogue was a much-needed palette cleanser.

5: Final Fantasy VI.

Before the unexpected success of FFVII irreparably changed the franchise, Square constantly mixed up the story formula for the series. IV, V and VI all handled their stories really differently from each other, and what I remember of III also felt fairly different from the games that came after.

Every game from VII on had a very clear protagonist (except XII, whose botched protagonist was still clearly marketed as the protagonist). The concept of the Dissidia crossover series is built on the idea that every FF has a protagonist at the center of its story. FFVI’s Dissidia character is Terra, but Terra is not the protagonist of FFVI.

Apparently while developing FFVI, the directors decided they didn’t want the game to have a clear protagonist, so they asked the staff to staff to submit concepts for characters, and they’d use as many as they could. This game has fourteen characters, each with their own fun gameplay gimmick in battles. Three of the characters are secret, and one can permanently die halfway through if the player takes the wrong actions. Of these fourteen characters, the main story heavily revolves around 3-6 of them, while five more have substantial character arcs.

There’s kind of a schism in the fandom over whether this game or VII is the best one in the series, and I can see why; this game is absolutely fascinating. No other game in the series has done what this game did, which means it’s one of the two FF games I really want to see remade after they complete this VII remake.

The first half is very linear. It breaks the beginning party into three pieces, then sends each character to a different continent, where they meet more characters and build their own parties before everyone reunites. Once the story has taken the player everywhere in the world, the apocalypse hits. The villain’s evil plan succeeds and tears the entire world apart.

The second half of the game picks up a year later with one character finally getting a raft and escaping the island on which she’s been marooned. In this half, the player navigates the world, which has all the same locations, but in completely different parts of the map. The driving factor for much of the second half is to learn from incidental dialogue where each party member has gone in this new world, to track them down, and to try to fix some of the bad that’s been done to the world before finally stopping the villain who destroyed it.

It’s unique and clever and occasionally legitimately tugs at the heartstrings some, which is impressive for a poorly translated SNES game. The final dungeon is a masterpiece all on its own. It requires the player to make three parties of up to four characters, then send them in and switch between them as new roads open. This way, the game manages to feel like an ensemble piece up to the very end.

4: Final Fantasy VII.

As I previously mentioned, there’s kind of a schism in the fandom over whether FFVI or FFVII is the best game in the series. Neither is the best game in the series. FFVII is better than FFVI. Oops.

When I was first drafting up this list, it was before I’d reached my replays of VI or VII, and I tentatively placed them next to each other, with the strong assumption that I’d end up placing VI a bit higher than VII, since it has so many strongly differentiated characters with solid story arcs, beautiful artwork, great music, etc. etc. Then I reached FFVII and not even four hours in, I realized it would have to be higher on my list than VI.

VI has a better battle system, its characters are much more differentiated by their gameplay, its character sprites have aged much better than VII’s character models, and it has four party members in battles instead of three. But I couldn’t overlook VII’s gorgeous artwork, sharp character work, and character-driven story. In the end, I had to give it the edge.

VII is a strange beast. It simultaneously really holds up and has aged horribly. The story is excellent and I love the characters, but the actual line-to-line writing is pretty bad, making the whole experience of the game a bit like swimming upstream; you’re getting somewhere good, but the age of the game is still pushing you back the best it can. Similarly, the background artwork is fantastic and gives the game locations a sense of place incomparable to anything that had come before it, but the character models are so low-poly that the two are constantly at odds with each other.

Still, the game is more a good game than it is an old one. I think it’s managed to duck the absurd level of hype around it by actually being very different from what the most popular images of it make it out to be, if that makes sense. The super futuristic techno-dystopia city only makes up a very small portion of the larger game, and most newcomers to the game won’t have seen Junon, or Corel, or Cosmo Canyon. Heck, I didn’t know Cait Sith or Red XIII were characters before I played the game for the first time. One of the many reasons I’m excited for the rest of this remake is to see newcomers to the story learning just how much variety there is to the world, events, and characters of this game.

FFVII also began (and pulled off really well) a number of storytelling trends that continued in subsequent games in the series. Obviously, almost every game since this one has a clear protagonist with a cool sword for cosplayers to recreate, and an androgynous villain whose story is closely linked to the protagonist (or one villain who is linked to the protagonist and a second one whose purpose is to look like Sephiroth), but it’s started broader, more quality shifts, too.

FFVII is the first game in the series to try to give all its characters arcs based on a similar theme, for example, a trend that has helped give it and future games a sense of thematic unity, especially in IX, X, and XV. Heck, that trend was why I almost came around on XII before they nuked it. It was also the first game in the series to have a real ending, rather than closing out with essentially a curtain call featuring all the party members, like they did in IV through VI (and I assume earlier).

Another common feature of FF games that it didn’t start with VII but certainly was canonized with it was the mid-game plot twist tying the protagonist to both the villain and the larger story. FFIV had this as well, of course, but I feel like the orphanage twist in VIII, the Zanarkand dream twist in X, and the time skip twist in XV were all meant to recall VII’s twist of Cloud’s…very complex existence (IX’s two worlds twist actually is a clear homage to IV, but it’d be hard to argue that Zidane’s connection to Kuja - and the character of Kuja generally - weren’t more influenced by VII).

2: Final Fantasy X and Final Fantasy XV.

Sorry, this one is a two-fer. I’m not gonna spend too much time on why I placed these two together in the #2 spot (I wrote a long thing on it here, if you’re interested). In summary, the games kinda mirror each other, in story and design. Each game can be seen in the negative space of what the other game leaves out, and at the end, the characters react to similar situations in completely opposite ways. For this reason, and that they’re of comparable quality, I think they’re best viewed as companion pieces.

FFX was the first mainline Final Fantasy game I ever completed, six years late. It was the first FF game with voice acting and many fully modeled locations. It also kinda marks the beginning of the series’ constant changes to the battle system.

That’s not to say the previous games’ battle systems didn’t also differ from each other, but they all had the same setup, with levels and an ATB gauge. This was the first game since III not to have any real-time element to its battle system, nor numbered levels gained through experience points. Since X, no two FF battle systems have been remotely comparable, which is cool and innovative and keeps things fresh, but also means I’ve been starved for just a regular ATB FF game for too long.

In many ways, FFX feels like a bridge between the PS1 games and the later games. It feels much more streamlined than VII, VIII, or IX, in terms of both storytelling and design. The game is very linear, pushing the player from one area to the next and not allowing much backtracking until the very end. It also loses the aging look of the PS1 games’ menus and UI, finally updating the classic font and the blue menus with white borders to fully modernized and sleek graphics.

However, movement still feels very similar to movement in VIII and IX, the music definitely evokes the PS1 games more than the later games, and most locations are portrayed with beautifully painted backgrounds, rather than modeled in (which I actually prefer, and I was glad to see that VII Remake has gone back to that in some places).

Voice acting in this game is phenomenal for 2001, and honestly on par with many contemporary games. I can’t think of a voice actor for the main cast who didn’t do a great job. Tidus’s narration, especially, is emotional and evocative in all the right ways. Grounding the plot in a very personal story about Tidus’s difficulty coming to terms with and proving himself to his abusive father keeps the story relatable and real.

Something interesting about my experience with X is that because it was my first Final Fantasy game, I thought for a very long time that the series was about organized religion, and the ways it is used to justify evil acts. This might be the only game of the ones I’ve played that is about organized religion, or even prominently features a religious doctrine, which really sets it apart from the rest of the series.

The game’s thematic unity is on point, even if there is a scene where they state the central themes a bit too plainly. Every character, and even the entire universe of the story, is held back by the past, and every subplot and the main plot revolves around finding ways to move forward and leave the past behind.

I love FFXV. It feels like a return to form after XII and XIII. It’s also probably the furthest any game in the series has strayed from the original formula. Battles are entirely real-time, and the game is a straightforward action game. There is very little time spent with menus, and even the leveling system has been stripped down to a few skill trees. It’s immediately obvious that the game was originally created to be a spinoff, not a main title.

FFXV is also probably too much a product of the current era of microtransactions and payment plans. The full story is spread out across *deep breath* a feature film, an anime series, an anime OVA, a standalone demo, two console games, four DLC story chapters, a multiplayer side game, a VR fishing game, four phone games (though really three phone games because A New Empire straight up isn't in that universe and also is terrible), an expansion including several entirely new dungeons, and finally a novel set to release sometime this year. That’s a whole lot of story. I’ve not played the phone games or the VR fishing game, or read the novel yet, but I’ve experienced all the rest.

But I also played FFXV when it first released, before any patches, before I knew there was a film, just the game all on its own. So you can believe me when I say that without any supplementary material, the game is still great.

It goes back to the FFI, II, III, V “Warriors of Light” system, where the party has four characters who do not change at all throughout the game. While this bugged me at first, I soon came to appreciate having a story where almost all character interactions involved these four characters. It meant I came to understand them well enough to feel like they were my friends, too. Most characterization in this game is understated, presented through small shared moments, dialogue, and body language as they travel the world together. Much like X, the overarching story might be expansive and far-reaching, but the real show is in the personal journeys the friends have.

Much of the first half of the game is spent exploring an open world, driving along the road and getting out of the car for pit stops or to explore the forests nearby. This is one of the very few games where I don’t mind just exploring an area without the promise of an upgrade or a new scene, just to see what’s around the corner, or to hear whatever banter the characters might engage in next.

The entire world of this game is gorgeous, and the orchestrated music is some of the best they’ve ever done. The main plot is beautiful, too. It’s bittersweet and emotional, with a charismatic villain and a twist that blew me away the first time I reached it.

The supplementary material is also mostly really quality. I’d recommend the Royal Edition over the original edition for sure, and to watch Kingsglaive as well. The anime series is quick and fairly fun, and Comrades expands on the universe in some great ways, but neither has as much bearing on the overall plot as the DLC chapters and Kingsglaive. I’m so in love with the DLC chapters, actually, that two years ago I wrote a piece just on how much Episode Ignis affected me (here if you care).

This is definitely getting long, so I guess I’ll move on after saying I’m upset that they patched Chapter 13 to make it easier, and I’m angry at everyone who complained that Chapter 13 was too hard. It was a brilliant piece of storytelling through game mechanics, and it’s mostly been stripped of all that, now.

1: Final Fantasy IX.

It’s IX. It was always IX. I actually did come into this with an open mind, wondering if one of the new games I’d experience (IV, V, VIII, XII, XIII) might end up hitting me harder than Final Fantasy IX, but as I replayed my favorite game in the series I quickly realized that wouldn’t be happening.

There are only a handful of games that make me cry. IX is one of two without voice acting. There are several songs from IX that make me tear up just when I hear them.

The story of the black mages gaining sentience, learning that they can die, and trying to force themselves back into being puppets just to lose that knowledge really moves me. The same goes for the story of Dagger no longer recognizing her mother, setting out to find a place to belong, learning that her birth family is long dead, then watching her mother return to her old self a moment before losing her forever. And Zidane’s story, where he has nowhere to call home, finally discovers the circumstances of his birth, and realizes that had he stayed in his birthplace, he would have become a much worse person than he ultimately did.

More than any other, though, Vivi’s story will always stick with me. He was found as a soulless husk by Quan, a creature with the intention of fattening him up and eating him, but each of them awoke something in the other, and Quan ended up raising Vivi as his grandson. When Quan passed, a rudderless Vivi went to the city to find a new home, and eventually learned he was created as a weapon. Other weapons had also gained sentience, but none had the worldliness that Vivi had gained from his loving relationship with Quan. When Vivi discovers that most weapons like him die after only a few months, he grapples with the possibility that he may die at any time, and eventually decides that he can only take control of what life he has by living each moment to the fullest. He ends up becoming an example for the other weapons to follow.

FFIX is a game about belonging: both yearning to have somewhere to belong and learning that the place where you think you belong is actually toxic and harmful to you. Even the menu theme is a tune called “A Place to Call Home.”

IX ran counter to the trends of the series in a number of ways. It was a return to high fantasy after the more sci-fi VII and VIII, and was also much more lighthearted than those games, while still being heartfelt and occasionally bittersweet. Gameplay-wise, it locked each of its characters into a single job, gave them designs based on their jobs, brought back four-character parties, and introduced a skill system in which characters learn skills from equipment. It also had a much softer, less realistic art style, and mostly avoided the attempts to recapture VII that have plagued most other subsequent titles (besides Kuja’s design, I guess).

The story is also structured so well. It regularly shifts perspective for the first thirty hours, allowing the player to spend ample time with each of the party members, and shaking up character combinations for fun new interactions. It introduced a system similar to the skits from Tales games, showing the player often humorous vignettes of what’s happening to other characters at the time. Once the characters have all come together in one party, the game has earned the sense that all of them (except for the criminally underexplored Amarant) have become a family.

The supporting cast are a blast as well. Zidane’s thief troupe (who double as a theater troupe) are likeable and fun. Kuja’s villain arc allows him to be sympathetic without losing his edge. The black mages are tragic without being overdone.

The development team for this game put so much more work into this game than they had to. The background artwork was all made in such high-definition resolutions that the act of downscaling them to fit in the game removed details. Uematsu traveled to Europe to make sure he’d get the feel of the soundtrack right, and has said it’s his favorite score he’s ever done. Sakaguchi, the creator of Final Fantasy, says IX is his favorite game in the series.

FFIX is one of the two games I would like them to remake after they finish the VII Remake, but I’m terrified they’ll mess it up in some way. Honestly, the game’s only flaws (which I do desperately want them to fix) are a lack of voice acting, the underdeveloped party member Amarant (and to a lesser extent Freya), the dissonance of Beatrix never getting punished in any way for her hand in a genocide, and the fact that very few of the sidequests are story-related because so many of the smaller story details that would normally be relegated to sidequests are covered in the main plot.

Despite the danger, though, I think revisiting IX is absolutely essential moving forward. It represents so much of what made older games like IV and VI great, and its story is much more grounded in real emotion than many current Square stories tend to be. Remaking VII will be good for getting VII out of Square’s system. Remaking IX would be good for putting IX back into Square’s system.

Here’s a IX song as a reward for getting this far. I’m gonna go listen to it and tear up again.

[fallenfurther]

You can’t save everyone

The next part to my FabFiveFeb-Alan Entry. Alan’s not fixed yet but I had to show the brother’s responses. They are on there way. I will fix him. 

Warning: Hinting and reference to Character death

****

".... everyone." Scott finished but the feed was gone. "Alan!? John! What happened?"

John's hologram appeared next to the visualisation of the two ships. John didn't look happy. "He's turned off the com on both Three and his wrist."

"Grgh!" Scott roared, "That boy is going to be in serious trouble when he gets back! He knows the rules!"

Scott fumed, and sat down hard on the sofa. He noted the worried look he got from Brains out the corner of his eye and tried to calm down a little. Damn it, Alan! You know better than this! Scott crossed his arms over his chest and watched the feed, John's hologram now gone. He knew his brother would be trying everything to get back in contact with Alan. But until then, all Scott could do was watch the small hologram of Thunderbird 3 continue the rescue. Worry sat deep in Scott's gut as be watch Thunderbird 3 manoeuvre around the spiralling cargo ship. It was never the safe cargo that got into situations, was it? Always the delicate stuff that could blow a hole in the side of a hull. The ship's design didn't help, with multiple smaller sections sticking out that were obviously not part of the original design. Brains' was muttering about it under his breath, as he watched his own design pushed to its limits. The man's eyes also glued to the protection.

"He can't do it! He won't be able to move out the way!" Brains exclaimed standings up. Scott looked at the man, whose face was one of horror, obviously having done the calculations in his head, before looking back at the projection. Quiet 'Oh no's' came from his companion. Grandma sat down beside Scott and took his hand. Virgil and Gordon were on a rescue and Scott was thankful they didn't have to watch their youngest brother do something stupid. Alan was doing tremendously well manoeuvring Three; however, he must not have seen the amber warning over one of the added-on sections go red. A few seconds later and it exploded, swivelling the ship straight into Thunderbird 3. They watched in horror as Brains' pulled up the readings that were being transmitted from Three.

"One thruster is destroyed, and the other c-could function but not for long. Certainly not long enough to land. The ion engine is undamaged, s-so he'll still be able to get back to Earth’s orbit."

Scott's heart was in his throat as he watched the hologram of his brother's rocket move in close to the cargo ship. He knew it was currently manoeuvring using thrusters, but it still felt like it was limping. Thunderbird 3 would be out of commission for a while. They'd have to dock it with Five until parts could be transported up. Damn it! It was going to take time and hassle to do that! Scott put his head on his free hand and took a deep breath. He wanted to start pacing, yet he had to watch, he had to make sure Alan was safe. His Grandma rubbed his back, and he looked at her. The worry on her face added more to his load, and Scott turned away to watch the now steady Thunderbird 3. It looked like Alan had managed to grasp the other ship, so they moved together. With no more detail than what was in front of him, Scott took both his Grandma's hands in his and waited anxiously for Thunderbird 3 to move away and head home.

***

John watched the hologram in the observation room. EOS was fielding calls, fully aware that John couldn't concentrate on anything but his brother. She may not be human, but she was starting to understand their complex emotions. EOS also knew John. She knew that he would monitor everything, even the smallest details, to make sure his brothers were safe and aware of any perils. Then there were times like this, when his brothers pushed themselves further than they should, and the concern crept into his face. EOS knew not to speak up. John was focused and would startle. Instead, she predicted what he would want and need, and monitored Virgil and Gordon, who thankfully were just tidying up their rescue. She was thankful she could do many things at once, and she flipped between each task swiftly.

EOS tried the scanners again, trying to work the code to make it clearer and to pick up life signs. She knew what John needed to know, but it seemed that she just couldn't give it to him. She wanted to blow the scanners circuit in retaliation for not working as she wanted it to but held back as John's heartbeat picked up. She was at his side immediately, ready to compute anything he desired.

***

John flicked through the readings coming from Thunderbird 3. He could only get the basics on the limited data stream they had, and there was a delay due to the distance. Scrolling through the damage to the engines caused John's heart to sink. It was going to be a big repair job. John was glad he wasn't on the island right now. Scott would be fuming and worried, which was never a good combination. He could imagine quite clearly his eldest brother pacing back and forth, and the exhausted sighs he'd be making. It was like Tracy Island had its own resident tornado at times. John sighed. He didn't envy the responsibility on Scott's shoulders, and considering all, Scott handles it as well as he can. John flipped back to the engine readings, he knew Brains had read through them, so he didn't have to inform Scott of the situation. The ion engine popped up. All were within range, but they weren't active. John left these up and went back to the hologram. He wanted to be the first to know when Thunderbird 3 moved.

Another explosion from the cargo ship made John's heart jump.

"Come on, Alan. Get out of there." John said to himself. Eyes on the warning signs, indicating the weaker points and volatile parts of the ship. Why did people think they could get away with such poor modifications and not jeopardise safety? He floated impatiently waiting for Thunderbird 3 to move. His eyes flitted over the diagram as two more of the orange hazard lights turned red. Seconds later, they exploded, tearing the cargo ship apart and sending shrapnel towards Thunderbird 3. John eyes were glued to the hologram as the part attaching Thunderbird 3 to the ship came away. Alan, get out of there! John willed, as more warning lights went red and another explosion occurred sending more wreckage at Thunderbird 3.

Out the corner of his eye, John saw one of the sensors change. The fuel temperature sensor was no longer producing a reading. Fear filled John. Alan should be able to fly without the sensor, but what if it indicated damage that they couldn't see? The indicators changed in front of his eyes, and relief filled him. The ion engine was starting up, Alan was on Three! John flipped the sensor display away, zoomed in on Three and he watched for movement. A smile crept on his face as the rocket started moving away from the exploring ship. His eyes stayed on it as he waited for Alan to clear the blast radius, the fuel sensor forgotten, and already thinking ahead to welcoming his brother onto Five.

Then he watched it happen. The hologram of Thunderbird 3 flickered as the sensors struggled to keep up with the changes. John watched as Thunderbird 3 was torn apart. The explosion tore up the side, along the fuel and oxygen pipes. John quickly pulled up the readings from Three, but there were none transmitting. His baby brother was on Three. He knew the cabin was self-contained with its own oxygen supply, but it wouldn't last long, a day at max. Most of the oxygen was carried in the main body. That was assuming the cabin hadn't been breached. John accessed Thunderbird 5's sensors and tried to boost them, frantically setting them to scan for life signs. He needed to know if Alan was alive. He had to find his baby brother. But it was just too far away, and John closed his eyes and held his head in his hands.

Alan.

Not Alan.

John was brought out his thoughts by a call from the island. He snapped himself to, took a deep breath and slipped into professional mode, pushing the pain deep down. He answered the call and he came face to face with the terrified hologram of his eldest brother.

"Tell me he's okay, John. Tell me you can get a reading on him." Scott's voice was desperate.

John looked into his brother's eyes and said nothing. John watch Scott crumple and fall into the sofa, and he knew Scott was running through options. The same options that were now running through his head.

“It too far for me to go in the exosuit. We need to find a vessel willing and able to take us there. EOS, scan the area and check the GDF log of authorised and unauthorised ships that are in orbit and a day’s flight from Thunderbird 3.”

“Right away, John.” His dependable AI replied. John turned back to Scott. He had to give Scott something to do, otherwise he’d pace a hole in the floor of the villa, though he might do that anyway.

“Scott, get onto Colonel Casey. Explain the situation and see if they have any vessels up here or on the ground that we might be able to use.”

“FAB.”

Scott’s hologram disappeared and John’s head dropped. They all knew the odds. They would all tell themselves this was a rescue, but deep down, their hearts were breaking. John wiped away the tear he couldn’t stop and turned to EOS. A nod and a list of vessels, their routes and maximum speeds were listed in front of him, along with a hologram of all their locations in respect to the remains of Thunderbird Three.

“Thank you, EOS.” John started the task of assessing which vessels could help them and contacting them.

***

EOS watched John work. She had only stopped to inform him that Virgil and Gordon were back on the Island. Continuing to field calls elsewhere, she had listened in when Scott had sat his brothers down and broken the news. Gordon had struggled to believe it, and he and Virgil watched the holograms. EOS had learnt how each brother showed and expressed pain, and she could see it in all three. Grandma had comforted Virgil and Scott had sat down with Gordon. Scott had explained what the plan was, and after a short time of sitting in silence, the younger Tracys disappeared in different directions. EOS fielded Gordon’s call to Penelope, who changed her plans and had Parker fly straight to Tracy Island. There was tension and worry in every Tracy, and EOS had concerns about John. She monitored his bio-readings, breaks, meals and sleeping patterns. He was overdue a meal by two hours now, and she was starting to see the effects of mild dehydration, but the look on his face as he worked told her she shouldn’t inform him.

EOS continued to monitor the wreckage. She was aware that Thunderbird Five’s scans couldn’t be improved, but she still scanned. Hope was an amazing thing for humans. She’d learnt that first-hand, and she wanted to give it to John. There was nothing new in her last scan, just wreckage moving as it should. EOS scanned again, then analysed every byte of data that came from them. She analysed it again. Something was different. There was a blip. One piece of the wreck had moved in a direction it shouldn’t have. It was only a fraction out, nothing to concern John with, but she noted it for later. Five minutes later she ran the scan again. The wreckage had moved further in the wrong direction. She rechecked the data. Whether it was significant, she couldn’t tell, but John was on a call to a nearby vessel, and it could wait. The call lasted a while, and another five minutes passed, and another scan was performed. The blip was definitely moving, and EOS plotted its trajectory. It was heading for Earth.

***

John hung up. Another ship wanting to help but unable to due to the superiors wanting the schedule to be kept. They considered it a recovery. That meant it wasn’t a priority. Well it was for him! It was his little brother out there. Lost in space. Anger churned inside him. Anger at the lack of help, anger that his brother was lost, anger the he couldn’t do more. John took a breath and tried not to let it surface. He had a job to do.

“John.”

“Yes, EOS.”

“Something has shown up on my scans.”

John looked up at EOS, gazing into the lens and seeing his reflection. He turned to the holograms before him.

“Show me.”

The picture changed and EOS highlighted a small scrap of debris on it. EOS displayed the time next to it and then flipped through the scans from the past forty minutes. John saw what she saw. The wreckage changed direction. Only something with an engine could do that. It was a flicker, a small spark of hope in his heart. Alan was a Tracy. John zoomed in, but the scan struggled to resolve the image. A quick run through Thunderbird 3’s inventory and the idea came to him.

“It’s moving a little too fast to be Alan on his board, but it could be the space pod. I would expect it to go faster if configured, but if damaged it might be slower, or if not configured, the basic engine would go about that fast.”

“A space pod would not have enough fuel or oxygen to get back to Earth.” EOS stated.

“But if we, or someone, could meet it halfway we might just…”

John could feel it now, the hope. He headed back to the list of vessels, trying to find one that might just be able to make a detour. As he was searching, a call came from Tracy Island. John accepted it and was greeted by Scott.

“There is a small spacecraft attached to Global One. Colonel Casey and the GDF are going to allow us to use it. It should be able to get you there and back. There is a shuttle being prepared now, but it won’t be able to launch until tomorrow. I’ll be on it and will meet you when you return to transport Alan back to Earth.”

EOS brought the information on the GDF vessel up in front of him, and John scanned the data. His eyes fell on the maximum velocity. It really was a small ship.

“Scott, it’ll take almost two days to reach Thunderbird Three in this ship. Alan won’t have that much time.”

The sorrow in Scott face tore into John.

“I know, but we have to bring Alan home.”

“FAB.”

John cut the link and looked at the last scan of the wreckage.

“You didn’t mention the pod.” EOS stated and John swore he could see the confusion in her lens.

“I don’t want to give him false hope. There is limited oxygen on the space pod. There is no guarantee we’ll make it in time.”