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jamestrmtx · 4 years ago

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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twenty One | It's Showtime! (Part 2 of 3 | His POV)

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Alternate Chapter Title(s):

Saint Behind the Glass** (Song Referenced)

The Extra Corny One With A Second Song Title Reference, Part 2½**

• • •

**This basically reveals Part 2 and 3 were meant to be Chapter Twenty-Two at one point (similar to how various chapters from the old version of FaiCom have been merged together here), buuut each chapter has essentially took place on different days in this version, so...

Let's keep that format, shall we?

• • •

Something's wrong.

That single sentence continues to repeat itself over and over as he makes it from Ruins to Hotland with the human, who remains quiet and distant during the entirety of the walk.

They're obligated to take off their jacket and reveal a sweaty tank top midway through, leaving their arms bare, these they try to hide from his line of sight by crossing them and glancing aside. He wonders why they do that at first, until he witnesses how hefty and soft-looking their arms are, a noticeable difference compared to the toned muscles he often saw from those who worked at the Royal Guard. Whether the human felt unconfident of their appearance or vulnerable as a cause of the nightmare he assumed to be related to, Sans wasn't completely sure of. Either way, he's aware it's best not to bring that up currently. The ups and downs to their health and body had shown greatly through these past few months, and though they were recovering little by little, they seemed to be facing some more frequent downs, as of late. Their call from a few days ago and the weak state they were in as they climbed into the back seat of Papyrus's car were just enough to make him fear there's something bigger going on.

"Shoulda worn shorts or somethin'," he comments, noticing they already seem to be affected by the heat. Frisk ventured through a variety of climates with no trouble at all, yet their parent was showing signs of fatigue in their body within a few minutes into their walk through Hotland. The place had grown about twice as hot since he last visited, though he doubts the human will believe him if he were to say that out of nowhere. They could likely take it as him trying to console them for their inability to be stronger than him; or their own child, for that matter -- someone meant to see them as a role model rather than a frail and dependent person. "Wanna borrow some of mine?"

The human stares at him like he's made the most absurd suggestion there is, similar to that of mixing water with cereal or cooking steak in a toaster. "I swear, you test your luck with me a little too hard sometimes."

"I mean it, though."

"...We're not even dating yet."

"Yet," he says, mirth in his tone. "As in, there's still a possibility for us to become official?"

"Oh, stop it." They frown and fumble with the keys hanging from their satchel; he notices their nails are stubby, and bits of dried blood can be seen at the corners of plenty. "I… I don't know when you're being serious with me or not anymore."

"I meant that, too," he states, chuckling. "Would it be late if I told you I got that punch at the bar, 'cuz I had my head way in the clouds -- thinkin' about you?"

Sans receives no comment or reaction other than (Y/N) looking elsewhere and moving aside to walk a bit further from where he's at.

As a consequence, he takes a step closer, catches them with a 'hey', and reaches for their cheek when they look down at him. "...What's the matter? Your face's burnin'."

"We're in Hotland," they retort, rolling their eyes and brushing his hand away. "Ice's frozen. Water's wet. The sun's scorching-"

"-Just like you."

They walk off again, albeit with some struggle now that the heat of Hotland has combined with their embarrassment.

"And I'm not gonna wear your shorts. It would be a waste of time for me to take a break just because of some heat -- I'm not weak."

"Not sayin' you are. Just sayin' I don't want you to die from a heatstroke."

"Either way, I overlooked my situation, and I failed to prepare for it." A solemn look falls on their face, coupled with a firm posture. "I should've kept in mind my health, so it wouldn't be right for you to try redeeming my lack of preparedness. I should've asked Frisk or you more about this." They take in a breath and sigh it out. "...even if you can adapt to it just fine, and even if Frisk didn't have as much trouble to adjust as me."

Hot-headed and fiery might just be the finest ways to describe the human's current attitude, yet he very well knows making another joke about their temper -- combined with their hotness and the place they're currently at -- would be far too much. It wouldn't surprise him if they decided to call off the tour halfway through. Patience wasn't quite their main trait, though they practiced a sufficient amount of tolerance when it came to confronting his constant coquetry for the duration of those two months one of their coworkers mentioned in the chat; he can hardly believe it's been that long, and even less how close he was to kiss them that one time on the couch. More than sixty days of dealing with his presence had to be considered an achievement of some sort, even if their feelings were mutual. The monster's completely aware of how tiring and exasperating he can be on the often occasion, so he finds it best to start rationing how much he can be at once; too much of something's rarely ever good or effective, after all.

"But... Alright. Risking it would only make it worse, either way." Their gaze turns soft and they concede with a quiet huff. "Wouldn't we have to go allll the way back, though?"

"Not exactly," he replies, winking.

Sans proceeds to unzip his jacket and reveal a folded bundle of clothing underneath it.

"I know you can be stubborn sometimes, so I came prepared." He turns it over and adds, "There's a full set of clothes there, in case ya wanna freshen up at Met's old hotel before we keep goin'." His hands brush with theirs as they take the clothing from him. "It's been abandoned for a short while now, but I'm pretty sure the water's still runnin' well, for the most part." His gaze falls on their belongings again, and he gives into a cheekier grin as he continues with, "I've noticed somethin' about you, by the way."

"And what would that be?" they ask, mouth straight and tone wary.

He observes the satchel again -- the more-heavy-than-it-looks bag they almost always seemed to carry along with them, be it for something as typical as their job to something as simple as going out for a walk. What made it odd was knowing what contents could be found inside, these he has a vague recollection from when he had no other choice but to organize their bag after having gone through it when they fainted at the bus. Sans can still remember having rummaged through layers of Frisk's clothing, school supplies, and even a few monster-aimed medicines before setting the first aid kit back to its rightful place. The only things he could recall to be truly theirs were their cellphone, wallet, keys, and eyeglasses case. Going back to that memory makes him wonder -- were their priorities in the format of a list -- what number they would label themself with.

"You usually carry stuff in that bag meant for other people -- not you." He eyes the pocket with a few contents poking out from it. "...Or am I Ied to believe that bright pink Husky hairpin's yours?"

The human looks confused for a moment, until their eyes cast down at their bag and assess the pocket his gaze is most focused on. Then, they come across one of the smaller ones, where the mentioned accessory stays clipped to. "It- It's not! That's just in case Frisk needs it." They take it and hide it away in one of the bigger, emptier pockets. "It's their favourite hairpin, and they use it more often now that their hair's getting longer."

"But they ain't here right now."

"Yes, but what if they need it later -- when I go pick them up?"

He can barely contain the joy their overly defensive expression brings upon his face.

Perhaps it's pure projection or coincidence, but they appear to resemble the same dog he mentioned with the stance they hold, not threatening in the slightest and charming at best, but still ready to attack -- figuratively, of course. Hearty laughter escapes him, though he covers it up with a harrumph. "I'm surprised you don't carry the whole house with you, at this point."

"It doesn't hurt to be prepared."

"If only you applied that thought for you, too."

They swat his skull with their hand and let out a chuckle. "Don't nag me, teddy bear." Nonetheless, a more serious look overcomes them as they sigh. "You're right, though." With how quiet it gets and how long that pause lasts, it appears as if they've become lost in their thoughts. "Not only did the social worker suggest it, but it's not fair for me to keep bothering you or anyone else because of my..." They scratch their throat and grin. "...consistently questionable life choices."

"Is that a promise I'm hearin'?"

"A big and definite one."

• • •

Half-open windows help bring some clear air into the stuffy room, as does the air conditioner set to the coldest temperature possible by lessening the dryness and heat of the wind. It's all paired up with the scents of the fresh cinnabunnies and iced coffee he carries in some paper bags, food he bought at Snowdin while the human showered. Sans sets the meal by the nightstand, covers it up with some aluminum foil, and -- finally -- wipes a layer of dirt away from the mirrored dresser before assembling some toiletries on it. Then, he sits down in bed, closes his eye sockets, and waits. The sounds of his soul beating, the breeze blowing the curtains, and the shower running are the only melodies to take over the quiet of the hotel. Turning on the radio by the nightstand further assists those noises and aids in transforming the room into a more welcoming and cozy spot, overall. The last thing on his mental to-do list is to wait some more by checking his phone and updating himself on any new messages, some few from (Y/N)'s coworkers wishing him luck. A grin's inevitable as he reads through these a second time.

The shower turning off and a door unlocking are the next changes he notices, along with the radio switching from music to news.

Sans feels his breath tremble when the human steps out. They're dressed to the nines despite their attire being composed of the simplest clothing possible: a new pair of his below-the-knee shorts, these fitting slightly above theirs as a result of their taller height; plus one of his baggiest shirts, now almost at belly button length for the same reason as the first piece. What makes such a common attire seem so complex and thought-out is how well they've adjusted it to their figure; it's either that, or he has his head in the clouds again. Regardless, they knew how to fix an outfit, and it wasn't that of much surprise if he compared it to the time they pulled the same trick when borrowing some sleepwear from Toriel's wardrobe.

Or, then again…

He was slowly becoming infatuated with them and couldn't avoid finding them attractive -- no matter the clothing worn.

At the sight of (Y/N) having their back turned to him while they perform their finishing touches by the dresser, he approaches them as quietly as he can, yet he lets himself be seen halfway with the reminder of the nightmare they had and how startled they could likely be if he tried anything extreme. He goes to hug them from behind when they catch him getting closer, though they say and do nothing in response. Still, his expectations of no retaliation are promptly shattered as they turn around, grab his hands, and twirl him once, preventing the hug.

"Nice try, teddy bear," they comment, smiling. "Do try again next time." They wink.

It's a knockout when the radio decides to switch back to music, inspiring in them what he assumes is an urge to take their current hold on him to lead him into an impromptu dance.

"So… You want to get flirty with me again?" they ask, grabbing his hands tight as they sway him left and right at a rhythmic but easy motion. "Then you've got to handle me flirting back." One hand holds his left one up while the other places his right one on their waist. Theirs then falls on his shoulder when he keeps his where they placed it at, this one he has trouble keeping still with how close he is to touch their skin, part of their waist now more exposed with their movements, showing the “love handles” he'd teased them about since he first flirted with them. A subtle but no less playful smile stretches their lips; their eyes soften, though mischief flares in their gaze. "I've made the decision to trust you," they comment, twirling him around once more. "So if you'd like us to be official, we can, but…" Their steps slow down as they trail off in their thoughts.

He treads in with, "You need to wait until the CPS thing's over with, right?"

They nod. "Unfortunately."

Their sorrow stays brief and their playfulness returns, replacing their momentary frown for yet another smile. "My memory might be a bit bad though, as I've never heard you say you like me before." To further increment the effects of their teasing, their lips fall close to his teeth but end up lower, kissing his jaw instead. "...In other words," they add, hands locking firm around his neck and bringing him closer to them. "Speak now, or forever hold your peace."

Sans feels his face turn about as warm as theirs felt, and he can tell they've noticed, based on the way their face lingers close to his -- waiting.

"...I like you," he says, far too quiet to be labeled anything but a murmur; even a thought could be considered louder than his words.

They land another kiss, much closer to his teeth. "Couldn't hear you."

"I like you, puddin'," he repeats, stronger this time. "Can you, uh… do that again, though? It felt nice."

They nod, lean in further, and press yet another kiss to his face. "Gladly."

With that, the human carries on with the dance. They sway him left and right and perform small circles across the hotel room, adding a twirl every few seconds -- sometimes with them taking the lead, and vice versa. "I like you, too, Serif." Despite the meaning and weight of their words, a frown arrives on their face. "But…" They hesitate. "I still have some doubts, and I think that dream I had confirmed that."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

A few seconds of silence remain and the song ends, dropping tension in the room.

"Not now, but… But maybe later?" They let him go. "If possible, I'd like to talk at the Judgment Hall -- where you last worked before leaving the Underground."

Despite his best efforts, the skeleton can't avoid commenting, "Want me to judge how good you look right now?"

The human sighs, loud and long. "...Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"Stop."

He lets out a resounding, jovial laugh at that.

Their tone's genuinely sad, as so's their expression.

They look a hundred and ten percent done with him, though they still push forward with a, "Be serious for a moment, please. I… I really mean it, and that dream I had…" Demurral returns to their words. "It involved one of my fears about Frisk's safety, and well…" They take a deep, shaky breath. "A- And my own safety when I'm around you."

The severity of their statement dawns on him, and his view distorts itself from an attractive human to a vulnerable one standing in front of him, weak and poorly prepared -- completely alone with him in a large, abandoned, and dilapidated hotel. They were easy prey from the viewpoint of an Underground Sentry. He could easily take them captive with their current state of health and their lack of knowledge in combat. Were he still assigned to that job, had (Y/N) fallen in Frisk's stead, and were finding that seventh soul still a priority, he could just as easily inform every other member of the Royal Guard to bring the human down to the Monster King's bidding. Unlike Frisk, they had little to no determination left in their soul; a quick and direct intervention meant danger for them.

And had he still that same mindset to this day, his agreement with Asgore to serve and protect (Y/N) would be something he could break -- something simple to deal with if he framed the blame on someone else. He could just as likely tolerate some jail time for failing to fulfill his part of that job with no protest. The only real obstacle would be (Y/N)'s child themself, knowing they were likely going to guard and care for their parent unconditionally. But even then, they were still alone with him presently; in other words, he could cover up any potential evidence of him being a culprit with time to spare. Perhaps Frisk was the hero of the story, but (Y/N) was still an NPC -- someone easy to get rid of with the right amount of caution and preparedness.

"You mentioned something about Karma before, and well…" They break the silence and snap him out of those thoughts. "I've made a lot of bad choices and awful mistakes, so that makes me wonder if, m- maybe…" Tears form in their eyes as they breathe in -- once, then twice. "If maybe I don't deserve any of this kindness or forgiveness that I've been getting recently, and… And that maybe I don't belong in this story, y'know? Frisk has done all the work here so far, and they've overcome plenty of obstacles, too. Meanwhile, I- I'm a weak, ill person with a dead-end job -- trying to keep a holey row boat afloat with napkins." They let out a shaky sigh and fail at a smile. "I get that you like me, and I can't deny or ignore my own feelings for you, but I'm… I'm an unworthy, ungrateful person. We've known each other for barely half a year. Th- There's stuff you don't know about me yet -- just as I don't know about you."

Their face shines with tears, these they can't bring themself to stop with how many pour down, and how fast these are. "I've already troubled and hurt Frisk enough as it is, and I've... I've troubled well-meaning family like Brenda just as much with my mistakes." They cover their face as they sit down in bed, trying to contain their sorrow. "...And then I have these awful, intrusive thoughts that seep in whenever I think I'm doing better. I don't want to bring trouble to you or any other monsters, either, but reminding myself of my past worsens these feelings, kn- knowing I might screw up again and again and again."

Feeling the situation's getting too rough not to establish some control over it, Sans sits down with them and grabs their wrists, tugging at these for them to look down at him.

Fear reaches their gaze as they stare at his irises, completely overcoming their bright and cheerful attitude from earlier.

"Breathe," he says, voice low as he loosens his grip on their wrists -- at the feeling of them shaking almost violently under his hold. "We'll go to the Hall in a few. But, first... I'm gonna need you to calm down a lil' more." He lets go.

They nod, close their eyes, and let a few more tears drift down before he dries the rest of these off with the sleeve of his jacket. "...Alright."

When they shudder, sniffle, and recover some sense of tranquility, they look at him again and smile. "And thank you for showing me patience."

He smiles back and brings them in for a hug -- long, tight, and strong. "That I've got plenty of, puddin'."

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#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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elizabeatrice · 5 years ago

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Episode 12 - The Little Mermaid

Let’s Talk About JSHK Anime #3

Warning: Manga spoilers for The Little Mermaid arc, The Clock Keeper arc, and chapter 64!!! (just a bit, skip point no. 5, 6, and 10 if you don’t want to get spoiled) Also … this ended up way longer than I intended.

Well that was one heck of a feels trip. It’s probably my new favorite episode, just because everyone is here being wholesome lmao.

This is mostly hananene meta I ain’t even gonna lie.

Before we begin, shout out to Black Canyon, our newest anime cutie pie. Just look at him, folks. Just chilling with his sunflower seed.

He has no idea the kind of life his owner leads.

I said before that the best part of episode 12 is how it made Daydream worse, so now I’m gonna ramble about it.

“Maybe different species can’t understand each other after all.”

“Maybe it would be better if I were an apparition too.”

This is my favorite part of the episode. And no, not in the sense that I want Nene to die just so that she and Hanako can be together. But because of how Lerche actually explored deeper what was said only once in the manga.

Well, both in the manga and anime Nene ended up accepting the mermaid’s blood because of her desire to be popular, but the anime decided to revisit what she said earlier in the episode.

Not only did that make her decision kinda less selfish, it’s also just … sad. Thinking that your friend, someone you really cared about, doesn’t trust you enough to tell you things about themselves, to the point where you’re willing to go to such lengths as turning into an apparition just to understand them.

And if you think about it, isn’t this part of her true wish? To have her feelings be reciprocated? Man I just realized that as I wrote this and I am mindblown.

She thought she finally got her wish with Hanako. I mean, he said it himself in the first ep (”You wanted someone, anyone, to return your feelings, right? And as far as you’re concerned, sharing a bond with someone is the same thing, right?”). So it must’ve hit her really hard when she thought he didn’t trust her. Especially with all the wrong ideas the fishes were feeding her mind.

Then we got this little flashback. At first I was like, “Girl, you really be thinking that he doesn’t care about you while recalling the moment he apologized to you and hugged you? Are you insane?”

But after some thinking of my own, it occurred to me. Maybe she was too used to having her feelings not reciprocated, she couldn’t believe it when someone finally did. Not to mention Hanako did kinda trick her with his fake confession a while back (heh, he’s not the only one with trust issues, eh?). And that just made the entire thing even sadder.

So when Nene said, “But I thought, if I were an apparition like you, I could get closer to you. Then, maybe I’d be able to understand you, Hanako-kun. Although I know I probably don’t mean anything to you.”

That was a harsh wake up call for Hanako.

(Btw even more full circle, Hanako brought up Nene’s wish to become human again in the first episode. Nice.)

So. We got one daikon girl who’s afraid of not having her feelings reciprocated, and one ghost boy who’s afraid that daikon girl wouldn’t be his friend anymore if she knew about his past.

While in actuality, said daikon girl already decided she wanted to and would be his friend no matter what, and ghost boy had grown to care about her more than he thought he would.

He heard what she said to Tsuchigomori. He knew all about regret, too. I mean, honestly, I think if she had said no, he’d let her walk away right then and there, no questions asked. But she didn’t.

Nene’s wish finally came true here. And the best part? It wasn’t the work of magic or curses. Just Hanako finally shoving his fear aside, offering himself as he was, and letting her decide.

And she still chose to be with him.

Heh. Lemme just. Sob for a bit.

Is my hananene trash brain reading too much into this? Idk. Maybe.

So props to the production team for managing to add even more weight to this arc. Which, they had to, since it’s the season finale and all. But I love what they did!

Onto my commentaries!

1. The KouNene

Good shit. She was worried about him but he didn’t want her to worry so he just smiled it off? These two are precious. Thought they were gonna interact. Sadly not. Buuuut! (see point 12)

2. Hanako’s classroom visit

He. Is. So. Adorable. Someone please take his babey license away he’s too dangerous.

Hanako’s classroom visit is like my absolute favorite clingy Hanako moment, so I’m really happy I get to see it this season. Ugh. My kokoro. Hugging her from behind, that semi confession vibe … Smooth mf.

The Mokke brushing Nene’s hair!!! The radish hairdo tho lmao.

On a sidenote, as a history nerd I appreciate that they’re actually putting lessons in the background. And the teacher talked about Apollo 11 again??? While my boy was in the room? That ish both hurt and pleased me.

3. The Clock Keeper rumor drop

Heeeeeehhhhh? What’s thiiiiiissss?

4. This freaking thing

*flips table* Darn production team been knew I’m hananene trash how dare they do this to me.

And lookie here there’s Kodama chilling.

5. Fishies! (!!!manga spoiler for The Little Mermaid arc!!!)

Pufferfish didn’t die. Well, good for him. Also I can’t believe they just call the other fish ‘yeah yeah’ lmao what the freak. Has it always been like that in the manga?

6. AOI AND AKANE (!!!spoilers for chapter 64!!!)

I swear I did not intend this numbering coincidence.

*claps* Boi. Nene asking Aoi about cutting ties with someone she’s interested in? And then Akane just swooped in and say he’d rather cut his head off than cut ties with Aoi? What about getting impaled, huh, boy? Would that do?

The not-so-subtle call out to these two pairs’ parallel? BOI.

7. Nene and Yako

These two just chilling together having girl talk, and Yako let Nene pet her? That’s some adorable shit right there. Admit it Yako you like her.

Yako also be really hitting home with what she said. It was extra heavy coming from her, considering what happened to her and Misaki. Boiiiiii.

8. Tsuchigomori

Oh my God, his laughter. Just … oh my God.

Tsuchigomori in dad mode is always one of the highlights of the episode/chapter.

By the way, in this scene according to the sub, Nene asked Tsuchigomori who Tsukasa is. But she knew who he is already. Is it possible that the sub misinterpreted it? ‘Cause I think what she actually meant was, “What happened to him and Tsukasa-kun in the past?”

If someone who speaks Japanese could share their wisdom, please do!

9. The 5 pm bell and twilight

Look how pretty they are!!!

Lo and behold, another important hananene interaction while the 5 pm bell plays in the background. Also, twilight? Y’all giving me Kimi no Na wa flashbacks.

“Twilight, when it’s neither day or night. When the world blurs and one might encounter something not human.”

Huh … kinda fits the ‘boundary’ concept but it still hurt.

Anyway they still had Hanako tell her what she already knew. And I did say in my ‘Walking Blind’ post that it’d be redundant. But since the episode kinda emphasized Nene’s desire to understand Hanako, having him actually tell her himself, even though she already knew it, was a big deal. It’s not about what she knows, it’s about him opening up to her. So I’m super cool with it.

10. The Broadcasting Club (!!!spoilers for The Clock Keeper arc!!!)

I love how Natsuhiko and Sakura are actually decent people. When he told Mitsuba that he was free to choose to stay with them or not? That’s solid, man. Though, of course, Tsukasa might not be as kind.

Speaking of, I know it couldn’t be anything else, but I’m still not sure if Tsukasa’s drawing was confirmation for season 2. Don’t wanna get my hopes up. Imma just enjoy what I currently have.

Kinda curious, though. Because Clock Keeper wasn’t Tsukasa’s doing. Maybe he was the one who released Mirai? But tbh I’d prefer if it wasn’t so. Because having more cases of supernaturals going loco without it being one of Tsukasa’s games is interesting, and kinda underlines the need of The Seven Wonders to keep supernaturals in check.

11. Kodama just chilling

12. The Adventures of Minamoto and the Summer Vegetables

You go, Kou! I’m rooting for you oh my God you’re so precious.

And look at that ikemen smile! Him supporting Kou is just top notch sweet y’all I can’t-

Ngl this was the biggest surprise of the episode. Teru finding out that summer vegetables = Nene? Broooooo. Interesting. I don’t think this little addition warrants any changes to their future interaction, so it should be safe. Clever replacement, too, those veggies.

It’s so sweet that Nene delivered those veggies to Kou! Just imagine the Minamoto family having veggies for dinner. Awww.

(Also, Nene wrote her name in hiragana instead of kanji. Is that a reference to how bad Kou is with kanji? Lol, so sweet)

13. The Coda!!!

Look at him. Just look at him. Look how lovesick he is y’all I can’t-

THEY’RE SO ADORABLE.

All in all, I love this episode. Sorry for how long this post is. I’m just dealing with so many feels right now. Gaaahhhhh.

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun #hanako #minamoto kou #yashiro nene #akane aoi #aoi akane #yako #tsuchigomori #mitsuba sousuke #hyuuga natsuhiko #nanamine sakura #yugi tsukasa #kodama #minamoto teru #let's talk about jshk anime #bea rambles #hananene

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thelordofdarkreunion · 5 years ago

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Magnificent Scoundrels: Welcome Aboard

I was going to write a second part of “The Team”, but it ended up being extremely long-winded and boring, so I decided on this instead. Hope you like it.

Despite his apparent oddness, it must be said that Drake didn’t waste any time. Already, he had a job for the team, now called the Magnificent Scoundrels at his insistence. They were to rendezvous around a planet on the outer edges of Drake’s home galaxy, where he would inform them the rest of the details. For those who did not own their own starships, accommodations were provided by the members of the team who did. Jack Cooper, who was introduced as the lone military-looking man at the back of the room, would be traveling with Drake, as Drake’s ship, called the Apocalypse, was the only one with enough room to transport Cooper’s Titan, a monstrous twenty foot tall piloted robot designed to crush anything it would possibly face. The elaborate-uniformed man, as it turned out, was a commissar (Author’s note: Commissar definition- a political or morale officer) attached to an entire regiment of soldiers. The only ship that was equipped to fit an entire military regiment inside was Adam Vir’s, and as such, Commissar Ciaphas Cain and the Valhallan 597th of the Imperial Guard were put aboard his ship, the Omen. Master Chief was a singular person and thus did not require much room, and so Kirk volunteered to transport him aboard the Enterprise. And so, it was now that welcomes were issued, people and supplies were loaded, and mooring lines were cast off, figuratively speaking.

Aboard the Omen

Adam Vir sighed contentedly as he settled into his command chair. It was good to be back on board his ship, and definitely good to get away from maniacal mercenaries and people who he wasn't sure were hallucinations or not. Speaking of which, he glanced around his shoulder. Commissar Cain and the commanding officer of the regiment, Colonel Kasteen, were standing ramrod straight, hands behind their backs, at the back area of the bridge, apparently wanting to see takeoff. Cain’s elaborate uniform was drawing rushed glancines from the bridge crew, several who gawked at the newcomers before Vir snapped at them to get back at their stations. Sighing again, this time in annoyance at his crew’s lack of social skills, he stood up, put on his best diplomatic smile, and walked towards the duo, arm outstretched.

“Commissar Cain, Colonel Kasteen, I trust your soldiers have made themselves comfortable.” Kasteen looked bewildered at the outstretched hand for a moment, then shook it and gave a rather sickly smile.

“Er, yes they have, Admiral.” Her grip noticeably weakened as Sunny, the ship’s eight foot tall four-armed Drev weapons officer brushed past. “All the Guardsmen are secured for warp jump.” Vir nodded appreciatively.

“Excellent.” He then turned and shook Cain’s hand, which on second glance, had several cold metal prosthetic fingers. Cain had a warm smile plastered on his face as he shook Adam’s hand.

“A pleasure meeting you, Admiral Vir.” His smile grew larger, and Adam couldn’t help but smile back in genuine amusement.

“And a pleasure meeting you, Commissar Cain.” He turned back to the bridge crew. “When are we ready to jump?” he asked.

“Three minutes, sir, came the reply from his first mate.

“Excellent,” he replied. Kasteen cleared her throat behind him.

“Admiral, would you like the Guardsmen to their battle stations?” she asked. Vir turned around in puzzlement.

“Battle stations? Why?”

“Well, some Imperial Captains like the Guardsmen and naval provosts at battle stations when in warp transition.”

“Uh, no. Don’t bother. Alright, all hands prepare for jump!” Little did he know, but this was to be the first, and smallest, of many misunderstandings to come.

Aboard the Apocalypse

Already, and astoundingly for someone who had never seen a Titan before, Drake and his crew had already stashed Jack Cooper’s Titan, BT-7274 into the cargo hold, and were preparing for takeoff. Currently, Drake was leading Cooper through the labyrinth passages of the Apocalypse, headed towards the cabins closest to the bridge where Jack was to have his quarters, Cooper’s measured military stride contrasting remarkably to Drake’s confident swagger. They passed through the well-lit uniformly grey hallways of the ship, and as they went, Drake flippantly introduced passing crew members.

“And, of course, there’s Maria, very handy with a knife, laughs like a chipmunk when excited.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true.” Jack nodded at a disgruntled looking Maria as Drake continued his grand tour without pause.

“There’s Ziwazzi, a Gunleron, who keeps pretending he’s tough, but he’s actually quote sweet; was kicked out of his planet’s premiere military school for stealing an actually astonishingly impressive amount of stuff.”

“Hey! Captain!” replied an offending looking reptilian alien.

“Ziwazzi, you ought to know me by now,” Drake turned to Cooper, “I am a firm believer that when meeting someone new, you should know their best and worst traits. For instance, I am a rather nice person if you get to know me, have an excellent taste in fine arts, and donate a lot of the money I make to help orphans, but I am a shameless thief, a pyromaniac, and a massive playboy. See? Now you know everything you need to know about me.” He spun on his heel dramatically and continued walking. “If you ever need advice on fine arts or romance, I’m your guy. Don’t hesitate to ask.” They passed through more identical hallways and into the crew’s cabin section. A door popped open and a woman stepped out from the cabin beyond, holding two dresses in her hands.

“Er, Captain, uh, I was wondering...well, you give good fashion advice-”

“Blue dress. It highlights your eyes perfectly, is made of light synthetic silk with a cooling texture, so it will be more comfortable than the cotton one, and Jackson likes blue better, so it’ll be better for your date,” replied Drake without pause. The woman turned bright red.

“How did you know that Jackson and I were-”

“Please. I’m the Captain. I know everything that happens on this ship. I won’t tell anyone, though, unless it threatens security, everyone already knows, or you want me to. Have a nice night.” Cooper hurried to keep up as Drake started down the hallway again. They reached another section of the ship before Drake stopped abruptly, almost making Cooper bump into him. “And here, finally, is your cabin,” Drake gestured with a dramatic flourish. “Pleasant dreams, try not to die.” And, just as quickly as he had led Jack there, Drake vanished.

Aboard the Enterprise

John-117, more commonly referred to as “Master Chief”, was currently sitting in his new quarters aboard Captain Kirk’s ship, the Enterprise. His helmet was on, of course, and a data pad, which the crew had called a “first contact package”, was in his armored hands. It contained all the information regarding the species and governments within Kirk’s home galaxy. Master Chief had found Kirk and the entire crew to be most agreeable. They were all friendly, helpful, and normal, especially compared to the oddly uniformed commissar and the slightly looney Drake. It was refreshing, really. He hoped that this group, which he had been ordered to join to gain a better picture of the new galaxies, wouldn’t take up too much of his time. It was, in the end, his job to prevent the collection of hostile aliens known as the Covenant from overwhelming humanity. But such thoughts could wait. He busied himself in the pad, learning as much as possible about his new reality.

One Week Later

Aboard the Enterprise

It had been probably the best space voyage that Master Chief had ever experienced, although that wasn't saying much. Most of the time, if he was in space, he was killing Covenant or on his way to kill Covenant. But this...this was positively relaxing. He had little to do, as the crew kept the ship running smoothly. He spent most of his time reading up on the history of the various new galaxies that had appeared seemingly overnight next to his own. The first contact package from Kirk was exhausted, and now he was perusing through an absolutely massive information report compiled by Drake. Curiously enough, many of the files there were from official government sources and marked “classified”, several of which he recognized as top secret from his home universe. He did wonder where Drake had gotten his hands on those. Or perhaps, it was better not to know. Speaking of which, he started to consider: how was everyone else on the different ships of this makeshift fleet doing?

Aboard the Apocalypse

Jack Cooper stared, shell-shocked, at the wall of his cabin. The past week had been probably, no, scratch that, most definitely, the most bizarre he’d ever witnessed. The strangeness of it all was such that he had been like this, staring at a slate grey wall, contemplating life, for the past five hours. Inevitably, the weirdness of the voyage all boiled down to one individual: Thomas Drake. The man was, to put it exceptionally mildly, eccentric. It had started on the tour, and only gotten worse on the first day of the tour; Drake had given Cooper free reign of the ship, and thus, like any other over curious human would, he had decided to unobtrusively explore, starting, of course, with the bridge. It unfortunately coincided with Drake’s arrival to the command deck of said bridge, which was herald by several disco balls dropping from the ceiling, the playing of an altogether too cheerful tune for the time of the morning, and Drake himself disco-dancing his way through the bridge. And, while Drake was actually quite a good dancer, it was much too strange for Jack. Regrettably enough, though, it turned out that this was Drake’s morning routine. A song, completely random, was chosen, and Drake would enter the bridge every morning with his characteristic dramatic flourish. The second day Drake was to enter the bridge to a military march, his hands clasped behind his back, while he waved to a non-existent crowd as if he was in a parade, much to the delight of the bridge crew and the bemusement of Cooper. The day after that he quite literally waltzed into the bridge to the symphonic melodies of some classical song that Jack was sure he had heard before, but could not put a finger on. Drake had sat in his command chair and grinned at Cooper.

“Like it?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. Your dancing is..quite impressive.” Drake gave a strange, wheezing laugh at this.

“My dancing is quite impressive, yet my habits are quite strange. Yes, yes, don’t be surprised,” he dismissed Jack’s glance and him with a wave, “I can see it in your eyes. You’ve never seen anyone do this before. ‘Why?’ I’m sure you’re wondering,” Drake leaned forward on his chair, “The answer is quite simple. Because I can.” Cooper was about to interject, wanting to ask a question along the lines of “But why though”, before the ship itself was wracked by a massive force, causing several panels above the crew’s control stations to spew sparks.

“What the hell was that?” asked Cooper. Drake leaned back in his chair, unconcerned, and waved a hand dismissively.

“Something exploded. It’s probably fine.”

“Probably? What do you mean probably? And shouldn’t that not happen, though? I mean, I’m not an expert on spaceships, but isn’t stuff blowing up on your ship not a good thing?” Drake shrugged.

“Eh, it’s fine. If it were really a problem, the alarms would go off.” As if on cue, the ship's alarm system started flashing red and emitting an ear-piercing shriek. “Alriiight, now it’s a problem,” Drake said with a sigh. “And I was just getting comfortable.” He grabbed some sort of portable communication device and walked briskly for the door. “Richter, what the hell happened?”

“Try and guess,” came the voice on the other end.

“Muelka?” asked Drake as he and Cooper half jogged through the hallways to the wails of the alarm.

“Yep.”

“I should have known,” replied Drake with a sigh. They traveled through several more decks of the ship, going at an uncomfortable half-walk, half-jog, and finally reached an open area in one of the lower decks where several crew members were hosing down tiny fires with foam suppressant. The area held quite a lot of what appeared to be chemistry equipment, and what looked like but Jack fervently hoped were not bombs. One of the countertops, identical to several others throughout the room, was a scorched mess, with blasted and melted shards of glass scattering the floor around it. And, in the middle of all the chaos stood a sheepish-looking woman with frazzled hair wearing some sort of protective apron, and an average-looking brown haired man with a scar across his forehead, who was currently busy staring at the destruction around him.

“Right. What the hell happened?” asked Drake briskly. The man answered.

“Muelka was mixing chemicals, again, and they exploded, again, and the resulting shockwave loosened some wires and set off the alarm system.”

“Sorry, Captain,” the woman muttered. Drake rubbed his forehead.

“Muelka, while I do love your work, you need to take better safety precautions. You’re on censure, again, until I come up with something else.”

And, while it was gratifying to Jack that Drake did have control of his crew, his rather flippant attitude was something he was slightly concerned about. But, the main point was Drake's overwhelming oddness. At lunch, just the other day, Cooper had the misfortune to be at the mess hall at the same time as Drake. Due to the nature of the Apocalypse being a mercenary ship and having many different alien species on board, the food served at the mess was much more numerous and varied in nature than any military ship. However, Drake was simply not eating a typical meal, or for that matter, any form of unrecognizable food. Instead, he had a plastic container filled with cheese spread, the type one usually puts on crackers. However, Drake was not most people, and so he was eating the cheese spread plain. By itself. With a spoon. Wonderful. The worst part was that Drake then proceeded to get a bottle of aerosol cheese and spray that on top of his other cheese, creating some sort of cheese soup. Honestly, Jack found Thomas Drake more concerning than the aliens, which was a feat considering that aliens did not exist in his home galaxy, and these were the first he’d ever met. He sighed to himself. This was going to be a long ride.

Aboard the Omen

Admiral Adam Vir sighed and tiredly rubbed his forehead. The last week had been extremely taxing, even more so than the time where he was forced to bring a civilian tour group on board the ship. Hell, it was probably worse than the first time he met aliens, which involved miscommunications, lots of treats, and eventually him rolling over like a dog. It was complicated. But back to the matter at hand. The last three days (or was it? He seemed to be losing count) were filled with nothing but tension and problems. The first, and least concerning, was that all the alcohol on board the ship seemed to be mysteriously vanishing.

Even the drinks smuggled in by the marines that he conveniently (for them) overlooked were somehow gone, spirited away from their hiding places by an invisible force. But, by far worse, was the hostility between the Valhallan soldiers and the crew of the Omen. The Imperial Guardsmen were intensely xenophobic and openly belligerent to all aliens on board the ship, so much so that that many members of the non-aggressive races would flee at the sight or sound of an Imperial infantryman. It also very much did not help that said infantry always seemed to travel in packs, which just seemed to escalate the tensions.

The third problem was that the human members of the crew were not immune to this either. The Imperials seemed to regard them as traitors of sorts, and whenever human crewmembers walked by, Valhallan mutterings of “heretic” or “Gue’vesa” could often be heard. The only ones the regular Imperial rank and file respected were himself, as he was the captain, and the engineers. A group of Guardsmen had gone to the engineering department, predictably sneering at anyone who crossed their path, only to be put in their place by the furious head of the engineering department, Nairobi. Ever since that particular incident, any members of the engineering crew were either avoided by the guardsmen or were given grudging, but respectful, nods. Adam had originally thought the Imperials might get along well with the Marines, seeing as they both shared the bond of being human combat soldiers, and so had organized a joint training exercise for both groups. It had gone...well...horribly. The Marines loathed the Imperials for treating the other crew members so poorly, and the Imperials despised the Marines for harboring and living alongside aliens. Both groups were now furiously competing to see which was better. Drinking contests, arm wrestling, combat training, weapon skills, you name it, there was an extremely nasty competition going on between the two rival groups of soldiers. There were several fights, most notably between Maverick, the Marines chaplain, and Magot, a Corporal in the Guard. That particular fight had seen the spectators get involved, and two Omen crew members, one Marine, and three Valhallans were sent to the infirmary with critical injuries, several of which might have been life threatening if not for the ship’s two excellent doctors. The only reason that no one had died immediately in that fight was because Ciaphas Cain had interfered, attempting to pull people off one another, and, when that didn’t work, firing his pistol into the ceiling, which resulted in an immediate secession of hostilities. Adam didn’t care much about the damage done to the mess hall ceiling, which could be repaired, but he was very much fed up with the entire situation. In fact, come to think of it, the only thing that prevented the two sides from outright trying to kill each other was the fact the Valhallans had enough respect for Cain and the two battalion commanders, Kasteen and Broklaw, to obey them no matter what, and that the Marines had enough respect for him even though the Imperials were threatening their crewmates. Speaking of Cain, Adam really did wish he would come out of his office more. At the beginning of the voyage, Adam had given Cain a personal quarters, which had been promptly transformed into a combination living quarters and Commissar’s office. The problem was that Cain always seemed to be holed up inside, and to get inside, one had to cross Jurgen, the Commissar’s malodorous aide. Jugen was always extremely polite and to the point, traits to be commended, but his personal hygiene was terrible, and many would rather just skip seeing the Commissar rather than wait near him. To Adam, though, there seemed to be something fundamentally wrong about Jurgen, although what he couldn’t really lay a finger on. Jurgen did have terrible body odor and rather bad psoriasis, but that didn’t seem to be the problem. The problem was that whenever Adam got close to Jurgen, an odd, creeping, chilling sensation would occur. There was nothing specific about Jurgen that made Adam feel this way, and that was probably the most creepy thing about it. But, for whatever reason it was, Cain’s callers never wanted to stay around long enough near Juren to actually get into his office. The only two people allowed to go straight inside were Adam and his first lieutenant, Simone, but they were so busy running the ship and trying to prevent the Marines from murdering the Valhallans in their sleep that they rarely got the opportunity. But, in the end, he felt as if he had no choice but to meet with Cain to sort out this problem. And so, he and Simone walked through the decks of the Omen, the aliens skittering in front of them until they realized they were no Imperials, until they reached the lower decks and the quarters of Ciaphas Cain.

Cain looked up from his paperwork as Jurgen ushered Vir and Simone in. Truth be told, he wasn’t really doing any paperwork, but appearances had to be maintained. They were, inevitably, here to talk about the mess hall fight and the general situation. Well, they didn’t really need to know that instead of heroically trying to pull people apart, he had been stuck in the middle and was trying to pull people off of him. But they didn’t need to know that. He was forging a reputation with these new people, and it wouldn’t do to seem cowardly. And, of course, it wouldn’t do to insult the aliens, possibly treacherous xenos that they were, as, if he did, he would probably get shot in the back by one. And, above all else, Ciaphas Cain wanted to not die.

The Admiral and his first mate sat at the two chairs across his desk, ones that had been provided by themselves.

“Admiral. Lieutenant. A pleasure to see you. What brings you here today?” He knew, obviously, but pleasantries had to be observed.

“Why we’re here is because your troops are way out of line! It is completely unacceptable and against regulations to insult someone based upon species. You-”

“Simone-” said Vir in a warning tone.

“That’s perfectly alright,” responded Cain, who flashed a smile that would have charmed a fish out of water. “I believe, after reading all the reports,” which was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that he was pulling all of this out of his ass, “that what we have there is a failure to communicate. I’m sure you’d understand, Admiral Vir, as your reputation for dealing with aliens and different cultures is legendary.” Well, he did know that Adam Vir was the first to make contact with non-humans, and was quite good at dealing with them. And, of course, flattery never hurt. “You see, where I come from, every single alien race believes it is their divine right to rule the galaxy, and will try to kill you on sight. Consequently, it is a part of our society to kill any alien on sight, before they kill you.” Simone and Adam looked stunned.

“Every...every race wishes to...eradicate you?”

“Yes,” replied Cain. “That’s why we have the imperial guard. Of course, I am but a humble Commissar. It’s the soldiers who do the real heavy lifting.” Modest hero; a strategy that most people fell for, and these two seemed to be no different.

“That’s disturbing.”

“Well, we seemed to have misjudged you, but we still have a problem,” said Vir. “How do we prevent our respective soldiers from killing each other?”

“Well-”

“I-I have an idea,” said Simone. Both Vir and Cain looked at her with surprise. “I can captain the ship, and you two can switch places. You’re both good leaders, and if you can explain to each other’s soldiers why we should not fight, then we have a chance.”

“That’s actually a very good idea,” responded Vir.

“I concur,” replied Cain. No, I most bloody well do not concur with that frakkin’ idea. I would prefer my head un-squished by ten-foot tall four-armed aliens, thank you very much. But, it’s the only way that we have a chance at not ending this voyage with people dead.

“So, it’s settled, then. You are in command of the ship, Simone. I will take control-”

“Er, my apologies, Admiral, but I believe you misunderstand,” said Cain smoothly. “I am not the commander of the regiment. I am merely an adviser and moral officer, although I do hold some sway. So, before we switch places, Admiral, what should I know about the...Drev and Marines?”

“Well...uh, the Marines are typical human soldiers, I guess. The Drev are a warrior culture who place a high emphasis on personal combat. Otherwise, they’re not that different from us. And your troops?”

“Valhalla is an ice world, and thus soldiers from that planet are very comfortable in cold temperatures. I should also inform you, that you are now acting Commissar. You are in charge of discipline, morale, and combat effectiveness of the regiment. You reserve the right to take any necessary steps to restore order, including summary execution. You have the full authority of the Commissariat until otherwise dismissed by me. The Emperor Protects,” recited Cain, as if he was quoting something.

“Alright. Wait, you have the authority to execute your soldiers?”

“Yes. Although, only a foolish Commissar will do so unless absolutely necessary.”

“Uh, that’s...alarming, to say the least. Anyway, let’s get to it, before more people get hurt.”

That’s that. If you have any questions, comments, criticisms, or concerns, feel free to ask.

#titanfall #empyrean iris #warhammer 40k #halo #star trek

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qqueenofhades · 5 years ago

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love your crusade answers! do you have any book or article recs for those of us interested in the muslim perspective/general medieval middle eastern history? (also, given your astounding history-based answers: are there any periods or facets of history you wish you were asked more about on here?)

Absolutely!

First off, I answered this ask the other week, which had a long list of book/article recs for medieval Muslims in Europe/Latin Christendom, Christian perspectives on them, and the cultural context and conflict embedded in those exchanges (as well as a second list with recs for work on historical queer Muslims). In the list below, I’ve tried to focus on the medieval Middle East and Islamic world outside the crusades, including the Islamic golden age, although there are a few books that cover the Muslim sources/views on the crusades. I’ve noted before that I don’t usually recommend books on the crusades that I haven’t read myself (especially popular histories), so all the volumes dealing with the crusades are either ones that I have read, they’re written by scholars whose other work I’m familiar with, or they’re recommended by people that I have met or otherwise trust. Most of these are academic in nature, and a few of the articles will require institutional logins for full text (alas). Some of them are also written for a more general audience, but yes, mostly academic.

So:

Jack Tannous, The Making of the Medieval Middle East: Religion, Society, and Simple Believers (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2018)

Carole Hillenbrand, ed., The Crusades: Muslim Perspectives (London: Routledge, 2000)

Niall Christie, Muslims and Crusaders: Christianity’s Wars in the Middle East, 1095-1382, From the Islamic Sources (London: Routledge, 2020)

Nicholas Morton, The Field of Blood: The Battle for Aleppo and the Remaking of the Medieval Middle East (New York: Basic Books, 2018)

Piers D. Mitchell and Andrew Millard, ‘Migration to the Medieval Middle East with the Crusades’, American Journal of Physical Anthropology 140 (2009), 518-25.

Forzia Bora, Writing History in the Medieval Islamic World: The Value of Chronicles as Archives (London: I.B. Tauris, 2018)

Howard R. Turner, Science in Medieval Islam: An Illustrated Introduction (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2010)

Amira K. Bennison, The Great Caliphs: The Golden Age of the Abbasid Empire (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2014)

Ahmed Renim, Habib Tiliouine, and Richard J. Estes, ‘The Islamic Golden Age: A Story of the Triumph of Islamic Civilization’ in The State of Social Progress of Islamic Societies (Springer, 2016), pp. 25-52. (This last one also has a fairly long bibliography with extra recs, which you can access in the free part of the article, hooray!)

As far as the history questions I get: I feel as if the most popular categories are about what you would expect -- i.e. women, queer people, social and cultural conditions, “Bad Old Medieval Times” stereotypes, Game of Thrones History TM, and now questions related to The Old Guard/Joe and Nicky/the medieval Mediterranean, the crusades, Muslim-Christian relations, vel sim. All of which I’m happy to answer, since they’re often things that coincide with my real-life research interests, give me a chance to expand my own bibliographic lists and reading resources, and are often what draw people to the medieval world in the first place. Since I have obviously had many, many rants on the use and misuse of the “medieval” in modern culture, whether in media or politics or as a rhetorical category or whatever, I am in full support of anything that stimulates people to think critically about this and interrogate those distorted depictions (because, as I’m sure everybody has noticed, they drive me UP THE WALL). Basically, if you’re going to social media to learn history, which can be highly questionable but is nonetheless how a lot of it (often wildly wrong) gets absorbed and transmitted, I’d prefer that people come to me, an actual historian with a PhD in the subject, rather than just whatever crazy-ass Tumblr History TM take is making the rounds now (and many of which I have had to debunk in the past.)

This is useful for me because I very much enjoy educating people about history, as you might expect for an academic who has (dubiously) decided to attempt to do this for a living. While I’m still in the seemingly endless lacuna between teaching jobs, it helps me to feel like I’m making a positive contribution and being helpful somehow. I like to think that my answers are, for the most part, comprehensive and useful, and provide a starting point to enable someone to do further research on their own, which is at the core of what we essentially want to teach. Because I have had so many people telling me that they either learned a ton of history from DVLA, or were inspired to go do their own research as a result, I think that was clearly an effective teaching tool (hey, it takes all kinds, and fic is obviously a much more painless way to absorb information rather than a complicated and technical academic text). I do still want to scrape together enough spoons to compile an actual study guide/historical appendix/reference list for it, since I know that is something that people have expressed interest in, so we’ll see if that happens eventually. But yes, I WANT you all to go out and learn research skills and apply that to your reading and find it interesting and to be able to process complex information in a sophisticated way! It’s a helpful skill for all of life, not just history, and is especially useful in our current moment.

....anyway, soapboxing aside, I’m usually happy to answer whatever I get asked, provided that I know at least a little about it and/or am able to dig up resources and look like I know. I obviously have my areas of interests and specialties, and people who follow my blog often have at least a tangential interest in those things too. I will likewise know more about certain subject areas than others, since no historian can possibly know everything, but I will do my best.

#history #medieval history #the old guard meta #for reference #hacash #ask

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scarlet--wiccan · 4 years ago

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I don’t think Wanda’s mutant status actually matters nearly as much as it should for Billy and Tommy especially, mutants are born with their powers (though usually dormant), Wanda and pietro (currently) got their powers from the HE but the twins were seemingly born mutants. Either she made them mutants subconsciously bc she believed she was, or they’re the mutant children of a mutate (like Franklin Richards). Not defending the retcon and DEFINITELY not defending the way Wanda’s been treated and how weird that makes Tommy’s relationship status but I don’t think non mutant Wanda necessarily means Billy and Tommy aren’t. They should clarify, where Tommy’s powers even come from if pietro got his from THE especially confused me, but usually powered kids of mutates have been considered mutants.

That being said it probably doesn’t matter bc Sc*rletVisi*n is probably going to make all of them mutants point blank so the comics will shift to accommodate that. Apparently Peter from the xmen is going to come in and bring mutants somehow which sounds horrible (and though ATJ still shouldn’t have been playing pietro as a white man he was at least semi recognizable as quicksilver from the comics and Jewish. I hate xmcu quicksilver A LOT more than mcu QS even though neither is good) and ridiculous but the leak has gotten a lot of crap right so far.

I’m assuming the plan is to retcon the retcon with this krakoa event but they’re waiting until the big tv reveal because unfortunately the movies/shows are their priority now. I think the only good think is that krakoa seems so far divorced from any status quo (mcu or otherwise) that making the maximoffs mutants (again) will have to be completely divorced from the mcu so there’s a chance the storyline might not be terrible? I don’t want the whitewashed maximoffs to have any more of an impact on the comic characters, even though I know that’s impossible.

Well, for one thing, they just retconned Franklin as a "false" mutant, too. I'm not saying that was a good choice, but if we're talking about the current status quo, he definitely doesn't hold up as an example. The definition of "mutant" has shifted over the years, but, generally speaking, when we talk about X-Men mutants, we're talking about people with a specific genetic feature, the X-gene. I suppose that a child of a human mutate who inherits superhuman or abnormal genetic traits from their parents would be, by definition, a mutant, but if they don't have the X-gene, it's not the same thing. Are there a lot of other characters like Franklin, who were allegedly born with the X-gene because their parents are mutates? Because I can't think of any off the top of my head.

Anyways, this is a hard point to debate because the 2015 retcons were poorly executed and poorly justified-- it's, like, impossible to retroactively view Wanda and Pietro as non-mutants when, in the past, their mutant status was an integral part of their characters and a key plot point in several major events. House of M, Son of M, and AvX literally don't make sense if they aren't mutants-- Pietro was depowered by the "no more mutants" spell, and Hope was able to mimic Wanda's powers. Neither of these things would be possible if they weren't real mutants. The explanation can't just be that Wanda believed herself to be a mutant, and so her magic functioned accordingly-- if that's how it's supposed to work, the reveal in Axis never could have happened the way it did. Do you see what I mean? I'm running circles around myself trying to make it make sense.

That aside, Billy and Tommy's status as mutants has always been a little nebulous-- I don't think they're ever clearly identified as such in any Young Avengers titles, although they were definitely described as mutants in some of their other appearances-- Secret Invasion always comes to mind. You could argue that their powers are a factor of their magical resurrection, rather than being genetic, but, as I've said in the past, I do think that the twins are genetically continuous to their original incarnations. More to the point, their "mutations" match Wanda and Pietro's almost exactly. This is taken as proof of their connection to Wanda, so, based on that significance, I'm inclined to say the nature of their powers should also match, mutant or not. Plus, don't you think it'd be a weird coincidence if they had the same abilities, but from a different source?

[As a disclaimer, I do tend to think of/refer to the entire Maximoff family as mutants when I'm not directly addressing the retcons. This is because they were written as such for decades, so they are still mutant characters within most of the existing material.]

__________________________________

I have heard some of those leaks and rumors, and I agree that if the Axis retcon is going to be reversed, even partially, it will probably happen if and when MCU!Wanda comes to be known as a mutant. As I've said, I'm not invested in that character and I don't think there's any way, at this point, to fix the problems that she represents, so I don't really care where she ends up in the movies. I will say that I'm not terribly worried about the films influencing Wanda's appearance or characterization in the comics-- even after the Axis retcon, which was clearly motivated by IP concerns related to the movies, the changes she went through had nothing to do with MCU!Wanda and actually differentiated them even further.

That said, while Hickman's treatment of Wanda may be a red herring or set-up for some big reveal, I don't trust him, or Howard, with the character in any circumstance. More importantly, I care less about Wanda being a mutant than I care about the way Hickman, like Remender before him, is carrying on with the worst, most offensive aspects of her mid-2000s characterization. The levels of ableism and misogyny House of M, Disassembled, etc are too great to ignore. It is irresponsible for contemporary writers to refer back to those stories without acknowledging those problems, or at least attempting to shift the narrative for the better.

It's also really hurtful to me, as someone who sees their identity and history reflected in this character, to see her painted as pseudo-genocidal, or a race/class traitor, or a self-hating minority. Wanda has only become that character because gadjekane writers have chosen to project those those notions onto the image of a Roma woman. That sucks, and it sucks even more that so many fans, and industry pros, turn their ire onto the character, rather than reckoning with the real problem.

#robintext #wanda maximoff #x-men #scarlet witch #tommy shepherd

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candy-floss-crazy · 7 months ago

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I think its perfectly reasonable for anyone to ask 'Are Fairgrounds Safe'. Modern rides are higher, faster and far more thrilling than the staid ferris wheel and dodgems of yesteryear. But does this make them unsafe? Add to this a far more comprehensive annual testing regime, and stricter health and safety enforcement and you have a vast improvement in place. Modern rides not only have the benefit of far better material quality, they also have computerised safety systems to monitor everything, and we have a far better understanding of things like metal fatigue etc. The Human Factor There is one final piece of the puzzle though that is much harder to crack. That is the human factor. The vast majority of operators are perfectly professional, with H&S at the front of their minds everytime they operate. Sadly, like any other industry in the UK, if not the world, there are occasional cowboys. Miss an inspection here, or disable a wind meter so you can keep going when its blowing a bit. 999 times out of a 1000 nothing happens. Its that rare combination of factors that coincide to create an accident that catches them out. I fly light aircraft for fun. When I started I studied every accident report I could get my hands on, my theory being I would rather learn from someone else's mistake than my own. Experts who have made a career investigating accidents in aviation, state that on average there are seven steps that line up before an aircraft has an accident. The pilot may be an unsafe one, but has got away with it in the past because all seven steps haven't happened together. Its a bit like swiss cheese, all the holes have to line up before things go wrong. The other major human factor are the customers. No amount of warning signs, safety belts etc are enough to stop some people. They seem infected with the lemming gene, and are determined to remove themselves from the gene pool. Are fairgrounds safe, perhaps should read are people safe to be allowed on a fairground. When It All Goes Wrong A long time ago, when I was still a kid, I remember a fatal accident on a fairground we were at. The ride was what we refer to as swinging gyms. Basically they are a large cage that 4 people enter. By rocking the cage backwards and forwards, they build enough momentum up to go over the top as it were. Now this particular day, a guy decided that he was going to assist his friends from the outside. He climbed the 6ft safety fence around the perimeter of the ride. And ran to push the cage. Sadly, he tripped and fell face down on the platform as the cage was in the air. As it descended it landed on him and crushed him. His family won't feel that fairgrounds are safe. But was that the fairgrounds fault. Is that a genuine accident. The ride had been tested and find to be perfectly safe within H&S guidelines. Indeed it was retested immediately after the accident and passed again. It was surrounded by a 6ft tall fence, not something you could just hop over, it took effort to get over it. There were plenty of warning signs about. Yet a young man still managed to put himself in that awful situation. So what more could have been done to stop him? I regularly see parent with young children on a fairground, who get talking to their friends then allow their kids to wander about unsupervised. You wouldn't do this in a factory with machinery, or on the edge of a busy road, so please don't do it on a funfair. Similarly height restrictions on rides are there for a reason, the amount of arguments we have had with parents, because there child is a couple of inches shorter than the safety height and they want them to be allowed on is frightening. Why would you intentionally want to put your child at risk. How Can You Check From the point of view of finding out if a ride is safe. All professional rides currently fall under the ADIPS scheme. This is the Amusement Device Inspection Procedure Scheme. Basically it is like an annual MOT for a ride. It covers electrical and mechanical safety. It includes non destructive testing for cracks in the metalwork. Electrical safety checks, checks that barriers and safety devices are fit for purpose. If you are hiring a ride, ask for the ADIPS paperwork. This should contain an image of the ride in the top right hand corner. Along with a registration number. You can contact ADIPS via their website to check that a rides test number is valid, and if there are any previous safety related issues. Similarly any respectable ride operator will have £10 million public liability insurance. If you ask them are fairgrounds safe, they should not take offence and be quite happy to tell you of the steps they take to ensure this. Perhaps we should look at the Health and Safety Executives own opinion when asked are fairground safe. They have stated in the past that you are far more likely to be injured on the way to the fair, than you are once you get there. If you want to hire dodgems or other rides safely, just contact us. Read the full article

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limitededitionsanderssidesblog · 5 years ago

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The Stacks - Chapter 27 - Epilogue

Ships: logicality and prinxiety

Summary: In this society, there is a place where the poor and unwanted are placed and kept hidden away from everyone else, where poverty and crime are a frequent and life shines for no one. Stacked up high in the sky, this is the furthest anyone living there will ever reach. When a Depression consumes the land, and the government fails to bring an end to it, society turns even further on the residents of the Stacks, accusing them of bringing the rest of them down. What no one knows, however, is that it’ll take the work of four unlikely people to not only bring an end to poverty but also to this inequality.

Chapter One Previous

AO3 - Here

TW: mentions of police brutality/bigotism, mentions of riots and protests (has nothing to do with what's going on in the world, once again it is just a coincidence), PTSD induced panic attack, reference to past non-con, mentions of genocide skip from "The first time Virgil" to "Then Roman came along"

~ Five Years Later ~

It was nearly half an hour past the break of day, the early birds rose from their beds to perform their morning routines as the actual birds sang in the late summer rich green-leafed trees. School teachers, bakers, bankers, and all manners of morning shift occupations filled the streets of the city in their commute to work. A calm, peaceful drone of everyday life filled the air with the sound of cars and idle chatter between neighbors passing by one another. While not painfully loud, it was at a volume just high enough to rouse Virgil from sleep a few minutes before his alarm clock was meant to wake him.

With a small pep talk to get himself up, Virgil sat up and stretched his tired, heavy limbs in his small twin-sized bed, yawning as tears brimmed around his eyes. Pulling off his light blanket, Virgil shuffled over to his door and went out of his bedroom and into the bathroom across the hall. After a quick shower, Virgil quickly washed his face and brushed his teeth, not bothering too much with his nearly shoulder-length hair as he simply tied it up in a low ponytail.

After a quick pat down with his towel to finish drying himself off, Virgil reached into his medicine cabinet and grabbed the little orange bottle that rested on the second shelf next to the childish princess band aids.

Dressed in his shower robe, Virgil went into the kitchen and grabbed a cup of water and a piece of toast out of his little pantry under the counter. He fixed himself a small breakfast of buttered toast, ate it quickly, took his morning pill, and chugged down his water.

When Virgil had first been prescribed antidepressants by his psychiatrist three years ago, Virgil had been foolish enough to ignore the directions and took it on an empty stomach, and then processed to get one of the worst stomach aches of his life. After that, Virgil always made sure to have at least a bit of food in his stomach when he took his medication, even if it was a simple piece of toast.

After Virgil had finished his small breakfast he went back into his room, moving quietly as too not wake his roommates, and proceeded to get dressed for his weekly outing. Today was Thursday, which was his usual designated day to take a trip up north of Faun to Blackbird Trails, where he would often go hiking and rock climbing at the coastal cliffs.

Blackbird Trails was considered a rather advanced hike and it was recommended that only expert climbers visit the cliffs. However, Virgil had an incredible amount of experience scaling the city buildings that he was able to handle the cliffs with little professional experience. Of course, Virgil still took a few lessons with an actual professional after Roman and his dad expressed their concern for his safety.

Dressed down in dark cargo shorts and a loose black tee, with appropriate hiking shoes and gloves, Virgil grabbed his backpack, filled it with his reusable water bottle, whistle, rope, and his other rock climbing gear. Once he had everything he needed, Virgil grabbed his car keys and his cell phone and left his apartment, going down the stairs which led into the back of his clock shop. Behind his shop, which doubled as his home, was Virgil’s old beat-up pick up truck he had bought himself three years ago at a low price from a used car lot. Hopping in, Virgil backed out and drove out onto the road, heading for the highway that would take him up to his favorite hiking spot.

January, three winters ago, after two years straight of working tirelessly in the Stacks as an advocate and public activist, Virgil had a mental and physical breakdown.

Virgil had spent all of his time giving himself completely to helping the Stacks reform and be rebuilt, both literally and socially. He and Patton, with the assistance of Logan and Roman, even founded the National Association of Stacker Activation and Development together, which served to link each Stack across the nation together so that communication between stacks could be universal and allow for all of them to work together as one unit for their advancement and rights nationwide, not just in individual provinces. Patton became the President of the Flor Branch, taking online college courses in law and economics on the side, while Virgil served as the HR Spokesman.

However, even with his good intentions and ideals, in truth, Virgil simply wasn’t equipped for the work he was responsible for. After two full years of being run ragged and stressed thin, not to mention the added hardships of poorly coping with his trauma, one day Virgil fell apart and ran out of his office while he was in the middle of a call handling an issue with another representative from Bramble’s Stack. According to Patton, it took his friends five hours until they found him passed out on Remy’s couch.

Following a long, drawn-out discussion with Patton and Roman, Virgil went to see a psychiatrist, who then recommended him a therapist for his diagnosed moderate depression, generalized anxiety disorder, and post-traumatic stress disorder. It was also discovered later through several more tests across multiple doctors that Virgil had an adrenaline addiction, which Virgil used to abuse through his building hopping and theft. His therapist, Doctor Palmer, recommended to him indoor rock climbing and or hiking as a routine exercise to help him with both his depression and addiction.

It helped somewhat at first, but Virgil still found it hard to take time for himself while still acting as the HR Spokesman for the N.A.S.A.D, so after a few months of struggling to find balance, Virgil decided to step down. It was a hard decision and he felt like he was breaking his promise to help the stackers, but with the encouragement of his family and friends, Virgil decided that ultimately it was for the best.

Yet, Virgil still needed to pay the bills, so with the last of his savings and some help from his dad and Roman, he got his business license, rented out an empty space in the tenth district, and started his own clock and watch repair shop. Once he got a loan from the bank to put a down payment on the small building he planned to use as his shop, Virgil went to Hoa and offered her a job and place to live as his roommate. She had been working as a waitress in district twelve since she and all stackers received their citizenship documents, allowing them to find jobs freely. Hoa readily agreed and apprenticed under him, learning to fix and make watches and clocks of every kind.

For three years Virgil had taken the time to focus on his mental health and even fulfilled a long-dead dream of having his own clock shop. Every so often a pang of regret for leaving his position would hit him, but Virgil never felt guilty for too long. Politics and economics simply weren’t his thing, Virgil would much rather punch someone in the face than sit down and discuss compromise with them. Although the new spokesman still contacted him for advice from time to time, Virgil still often volunteered in the Association.

Today he decided to hike the loop, which was the longest of the three trails, which took him around the entire outer rim of Blackbird hill, through the woods, and next to the cliffs towering over the ocean. The hike took about two hours to complete, but Virgil took a little longer as he stopped at his favorite part of the cliff, where a cave sat at the bottom slightly above where raging waves couldn’t reach it since it was currently low tide. He had practiced this particular decent with his trainer a couple of times, so he knew exactly when to be there in order to avoid any potential casualties.

Once he put on all his gear and secured his rope safely to his usual bolder, Virgil made his descent, slowly scaling down the cliffside as the wind roared around him, stinging his cheeks and ears. The seagulls cried above his head and the waves sang out below his feet. His veins pumped his body with adrenaline and excitement as he went down step by step, foothold by foothold, knowing one wrong move could send him either in the hospital or in the ground. Eventually, Virgil landed at the mouth of the cave and sat down on the lip of the entrance. Gazing out at the pink and orange sky, Virgil let the breeze blow through his hair, savoring the sensation and connection to his present reality.

This was Virgil’s favorite part of every hike—the view. He felt whole, complete, and connected with reality and his surroundings. His past and current pain couldn’t reach him there, Damien and Calhoun felt like distant memories, his stress and anxiety were faint echoes he could hardly hear. Virgil felt at peace in this place.

Then a sudden buzz from his backpack brought him out of the moment. With a short sigh, Virgil shrugged the pack off his back and reached in to pull out his phone. Smiling a little at his silly background of him and his brothers on their family hike two summers ago, at a safe trail, of course, Virgil unlocked his phone and saw that it had been his daily morning text from Roman that had made his phone buzz.

Ro: ¡Buenos días mi amor! Stay safe on your hike, and don’t forget to take pics for me ;)

Virgil chuckled lightly under his breath, barely audible with the sea breeze blowing around him, and took a quick snapshot of himself and the ocean horizon behind him and sent it to Roman. He was often too busy with work to join Virgil on his morning hikes, so instead, he would ask Virgil to take pictures for him to see later.

You: [Image]

You: yeah yeah -_-

You: morning

Ro: So gorgeous <3

Ro: The ocean’s pretty too

Virgil snorted and rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly at the flirtatious text nonetheless. Roman’s unabashed flirting and unyielding amount of flattery and compliments were still a little hard for Virgil to get used to hearing, even though they had been dating for a little under a year. Roman loved to shower him with affection, giving him cute nicknames and cuddling with him all the time, but he hadn’t always been like that.

In fact, in the first few months of their relationship, Roman would barely touch him, scared for Virgil’s mental health, and worried that he would bring back old, triggering memories. It had been a concern for Virgil as well, which had led him to reject Roman twice before he finally agreed to date him last autumn.

However, the caution ended up being incredibly overbearing and annoying, and it was Virgil who ended up kissing Roman first. He had been so fed up with Roman’s months of hesitation that he straight up grabbed Roman by the face and laid one on him, stunning the poor man speechless for a good while. After that, Roman began to show his true rainbow colors and became overbearing in a completely different way, not that Virgil really minded.

You: shut up

Ro: love you too cariño

After another chuckle, Virgil placed his phone back into his bag and got up to his feet to scale back up to the top. Low tide would soon be over and he needed to get back to open up his shop by ten, so he needed to head back, as the car drive was nearly an hour-long to get back to Faun.

Once he was safely back on solid ground, Virgil took off his gear, untied his rope, and packed all his belongings and continued down the trail back to the small dirt parking lot where he had left his truck.

The ride passed as he listed his favorite music over his, slightly crappy car stereo. He sang along and tapped his hands against his steering wheel. The music helped to fill the time and make the car ride pass faster. Even so, Virgil never failed to appreciate how scenic and beautiful the forest and mountains were on his commute. It was a sight he never got tired of, after all, Virgil grew up with hardly any trees or healthy natural vegetation to speak of, so seeing it so abundantly always amazed him.

Although, eventually, the forest passed away and faded into concrete streets and buildings as he began to enter the suburbs before entering the city.

Fifty-three minutes passed until Virgil finally arrived back at his home, and from the sound of chatter from the second floor, he knew that Hoa was awake already, most likely making breakfast for Pearl before she had to go to school.

“I’m back!” Virgil called as he walked in, slipping off his shoes and leaving them at the door, as Hoa liked to keep the floors as clean as possible and didn’t like it when he dragged dirt everywhere after his hikes.

“Hey, uncle Virgil!” Pearl welcomed and ran up to him, a piece of paper in her hand, “Look what I drew!”

Virgil reached down and took the piece of paper from the little five-year-old and immediately had no idea what he was looking at. On the piece of lined paper was a big pink circle with weird lines sticking out of it drawn in crayon. It looked random and sporadic, but the bright smile on Pearl’s face told him it was all intentional.

“Oh, it’s beautiful Pearl!” Virgil congratulated her, giving the little girl a pat on the head. She giggled at the praise and jumped a little, taking the paperback when Virgil held it out to her,

“My teacher said to draw our favorite animals, so I drew a little piggy!” Hoa explained, throwing her arms around in wide expressions. The dots finally connected and Virgil was able to see how the odd pink blob was indeed a pig.

“You did a wonderful job, Pearl.” Virgil smiled, pushing her a little to direct her to the kitchen to have breakfast, which he doubted she had yet since he could hear the sound of sizzling bacon from down the hall.

It was late August, which meant the schools had already started and Pearl had just recently begun Kindergarten, so it made sense that her schoolwork was something as silly as drawing her favorite animal.

“The teacher liked my pig too, but the other kids said I should have drawn a rat because I was one.” Pearl continued to say matter-of-factly, not appearing to understand the insult she received.

Virgil paused once heard that and looked down at Pearl in pity and concern as the little girl continued on to skip up to her mom, bugging her as Hoa shooed her away from the hot frying pan.

Five years have passed, the old stack buildings have been torn down and new homes have been built. Businesses, clinics, and offices have replaced the once barren and decrepit land, there were even paved roads and streetlights. So much has physically changed but very little social progress has been made.

While there was a large population of those who supported stackers and championed them now, society as a whole still did not accept them completely. It was harder for stackers to find work, receive an education, or even simply attend public affairs without receiving hate and prejudice. And now all that bigotism was being taught to the next generation. Virgil doubted that Pearl’s classmates truly understood what it meant when they called her a rat, but he was sure they had heard their parents say that word and simply repeated what they heard and saw them doing.

Society is easily influenced, and it all starts with the youth and what they are taught. Even if they decided to be progressive and become allies and supporters in the future, that way of thinking will have still been instilled in them and take years for them to unlearn it as adults. For society to progress faster towards a more accepting view on stackers, the changes had to be made before the next generation could be instilled with the wrong way of thinking in order to break the cycle.

It was at times like this that Virgil regretted leaving the association the most, but he had to remind himself that it wouldn’t do anyone much good if he had another breakdown. However, it did inspire him to volunteer just a bit more. He may not be able to do as much as he wanted due to his mental health, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help at all.

“Good morning, Virgil.” Hoa greeted him once she finally turned around and noticed him. She carried two plates of eggs and bacon for her and her daughter and set them down at the kitchen table, but Virgil didn’t miss the extra plate that had been fixed-left on the counter. “How was your hike?”

“Great, as usual,” Virgil replied, grabbing the extra plate of food from the counter and joining the two girls at the table.

The three sat down together for a quick meal, laughing and joking together before Hoa had to rush over to take Pearl to the elementary school down the street. While she did that, Virgil placed all the dishes in the sink and went downstairs to the shop and opened up for business. There usually weren’t any customers until eleven, even though they opened at ten, so Virgil spent the time in the backroom behind the counter as he finished up the final touches on an antique grandfather clock that was due to be picked up later that afternoon.

...

Sleep was a luxurious thing, it came every night and left every morning. It was peaceful and relaxing, sweet, and warm. It was a time to unwind from the previous day and find solitude within oneself. Yet, as with all good things, it always eventually came to an end.

“Darling, it’s time to wake up.”

Patton shifted in bed to lay on his side, pressing his face deeper into his pillow, hoping the voice would go away. However, despite his efforts to remain asleep, the voice persisted and refused to allow him to continue sleeping.

“Come on, Patton, you don’t want to be late to work.” The voice nagged, a hand accompanying it to prod at Patton’s shoulder.

“I’m the boss, I can be late.” Patton murmured sleepily and yawned, pulling the soft blanket over his head, relishing in the darkness it welcomed.

The sweet embrace of sleep pulled at him with welcoming arms, ready to bring him back in, but the physical hands of his husband ripped the blanket off of him, chasing his chance of falling back asleep away.

“Just because you are the boss doesn’t mean you should be late.” Logan reminded him, leaning down to the bed to kiss his forehead and run his fingers through his messy hair. “Besides, you have to take the boys to school.”

Patton sighed in defeat and sat up in their king-sized bed, stretching his arms over his head and he gave another wide yawn.

“Fine, fine, I’m up.” He muttered, pushing himself up and off the bed, reaching over for his glasses that sat in their usual spot on the nightstand by his side of the bed. Once he had his glasses on he looked up at his husband to give him a tired pout but was immediately melted at the sight of Logan fully dressed in one of his many business suits.

Despite seeing him in suits day after day, Patton was never able to fully get over how handsome Logan was and marveled at how he managed to marry someone so effortlessly beautiful.

“Good, I have to go to work, so I’ll see you later,” Logan told him, giving a short kiss on the lips, running his fingers through his hair once again before departing for the door.

“Alrighty, love you, honey.”

“I love you too, darling.” He said back with a smile and left to head to work.

Patton watched the door close and continued to stare at it for a moment before, and then turned his gaze to the room around him. Their bedroom was large, as it was the master of their house, but it wasn't nearly as massive as Logan’s old bedroom in the manor, although it was much bigger than the one Patton had.

Four years ago, when Logan had announced their engagement to his parents, his father had reacted wildly in outrage, forcing Logan out of the manor with threats of lawsuits.

Logan had confessed to his parents about his romantic relationship with Patton when his father had asked about it a few weeks after Elise had left; and, while he had not been pleased by the news, he did not make too much of a mountain out of their molehill. However, his father did make it a regular occasion to invite Logan to have lunch with him and some daughter of a wealthy tycoon, but Logan would always make a short event out of it or deny him completely.

Dwight Winchester did everything he could in the fourteen months that they dated to get his son to leave Patton, but nothing would persuade Logan to abandon their relationship. At one point, Dwight even sent Patton a letter with a promise of a large sum of money if he broke up with his son, but Patton refused his offer. The next step up from that was the men Dwight sent to pressure Patton into leaving. However, once Logan learned of his father’s actions, he went directly to his family’s main estate to tell his father directly that he planned to marry Patton.

From what he was later told, he and his father engaged in a loud screaming match as they argued back and forth over Logan’s decision to marry a male of no standing. After that, they were given three weeks to leave the manor and Logan was alienated from his family and fortune.

Patton felt guilty over costing him his family and wealth, but Logan thanked him for helping him leave it all behind, as he never wanted it anyway.

The two of them got married five months later in a newly built chapel in the Stacks. Patton worried that the venue wasn’t nice or expensive enough for someone as well-groomed as Logan, but his then-fiancee didn’t want the ceremony to be too extravagant and preferred that they have it in Patton’s home. Logan invited a few of his old college friends and had Roman and Joan as his groomsmen—Joan liked to call themself a ‘groomsthem’. Patton’s groomsmen were Virgil, Jaime, and Ravi, who he had become close friends within the time they worked together.

A month afterward, they moved into the house they currently shared. They had been staying together temporarily in an apartment downtown while they were busy planning the wedding and searching for a house.

It was a beautiful two-story home in the fourth district, with four bedrooms and two bathrooms. Ahmed, who had remained loyal to Logan in the split, continued to live with them and remained Logan’s bodyguard and driver. Jamie, on the other hand, got his own apartment, but still worked for them as an employee as Logan and Patton were often too busy with work to keep up with house cleaning.

Even as the years passed, and simple things like waking up every day beside Logan in a beautiful house of his own became a regular occurrence, Patton never lost his sense of wonder and gratefulness for the life he had been granted.

He still remembered when he was a young teenager, recently having lost his mom and left alone to fend for himself, starving and without a place to live. He had been so sure back then that he would never go anywhere in life, yet here he was now. He majored in economics and sociology and was the first stacker to graduate from the University of Flor. He was the co-founder and president of the National Association of Stacker Activation and Development and the husband to the Senator of Flor.

Never in his life had he ever thought he would be who he was now, or where he was now. Looking back, it all happened with a simple job interview he almost failed and a simple dish of poutine. It was all a bit far fetched and more than a little silly, but Patton wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Exiting his little train of thought, Patton went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After he was dressed and ready, he went downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast but found his boys had already beat him to the punch, eating cereal and drinking orange juice. Patton decided to follow their example and fix himself a bowl as well.

“Morning, pa.” Emile greeted him warmly, handing Patton the jug of milk once he sat down, “You’re up late again.”

“I know,” Patton sighed, pouring the milk into his bowl and then reaching for the cereal box. Thomas made a face as he did this, disagreeing with his methods of cereal preparation. “Slept through my alarm again.”

“We know, dad had to go and wake you before he left,” Thomas told him through a mouthful of fortunate amulets, his favorite cereal. “By the way, you remember that my play is this Saturday, right?”

“Oh right! You’re playing the Tin Man aren’t you?” Patton asked for confirmation,

“Uh-huh, the first showing is at five.”

“Alrighty, I will mark it in my calendar. Have you told your brother yet?” Patton followed, munching on his own breakfast.

“Yeah, Virge said he’s coming opening night,” Thomas replied, pouring more cereal into his bowl once it became empty.

“Perfect! It’ll be like a little family get-together, of course, we’ll have to go to Debby’s afterward to celebrate.” Patton clapped his hands with an excited grin.

Thomas had recently begun to take interest in theater last year while he was in fifth grade. However, by that time, he had already passed the final date to change his school schedule to enter in his academy’s drama program. So, Patton had signed him up for the community theater summer program to give him an opportunity to act. The children’s program lasted for four weeks, starting in late July and ending mid to late August. Thomas had loved the program so far and even met a couple of friends who went to other schools across the city.

Since Thomas seemed to enjoy theater so much, Patton offered to sign Emile up as well if he wanted, but his youngest son didn’t have any interest in theater and instead asked if he could go to an art camp at the community center over the summer, to which Patton happily signed him up for.

Whenever he was able and had the means to do so, Patton would do whatever he could to make sure his twin sons were happy and pursuing what they loved, and capable and willing was he. Even when he was poor he still did what he could to feed into his children’s interests. Patton remembered the weeks he had spent saving up his money to buy Virgil his first clock-making kit, which eventually—after a long and difficult road—led to Virgil owning his own clock repair shop. Even if it had been a mere hobby, Patton was still happy to encourage any and all of his sons’ interests.

The goal of every parent should be to see their children progress further beyond themself and do what the previous generation could not. In the few short years it had been since Patton had first brought him and his boys out of the Stacks he had been able to see them do things and have opportunities that Patton never could have dreamed of when he was their age. It was a pleasure and an honor to witness, and Patton couldn’t have asked for anything more than to see his children happy.

...

The office had a specific sound to it. It wasn’t loud nor was it quiet. It was an even volume and tone, dull and monotonous, full of clicking pens, clacking keyboards, whispering voices, and ringing phones. It was mind-numbing and life-draining.

No matter how much time had passed since his inauguration, Roman never fully got used to the amount of paperwork he had to deal with on the daily, or how frustrating and annoying it was to work with the cabinet and or council. Working roughly sixty-hour weeks, roughly twelve-hour shifts five days a week, Roman felt his heart and soul slowly drain away as the hours changed into years tied behind a desk.

His lunch break wasn’t due for another half an hour, but Roman couldn’t stand to wait any longer and decided to laze around on his phone until his lunch began and end it early to make up for the lost time. Reclining back in his office chair, Roman looked through his saved photos in his gallery, almost all of which were pictures sent to him by Virgil. They all looked practically the same, a selfie at an awkward angle with an awkward smile and peace sign, the only thing that really changed was the background. Even so, Roman loved each and every one of them.

Switching to his messenger app, Roman sent Virgil a quick text that he had forgotten to send earlier that day.

You: We still on for dinner and a movie tonight?

After sending the text, which he didn’t expect a quick reply to, Roman scrolled up a little to look at the picture Virgil had sent him that morning, grinning at the pure joy the photo displayed on his screen.

It has been a joy over the past three years to watch Virgil change and grow since his terrible mental breakdown, receiving professional help, and making an effort to get better. That isn’t to say that Virgil doesn’t have his bad days, but they happened much less often than they used to. Virgil had found good, healthy hobbies and spent his days in a job that he loved, even volunteering with his organization during his off-time. He had made so much progress in his life, but Roman had remained frozen in one place.

That wasn’t to say that Roman wasn’t proud of the accomplishments he had made while holding his office, but he found himself going home more exhausted than happy more days than he would like. He had taken this job because his good friend, Logan, had come to him as the person he trusted most to fill the position. He stayed in the position all these years because he feared what giving up his seat and vote would do to upset the province while it found its way through a confusing and difficult time of change.

He felt as if he were a parent helping his toddler walk, he had to stand over them to hold their hand as they made their first few steps, or be close by to catch them if they fell. Every time he thought his toddler had finally built enough strength to walk on their own, they would stumble or tip and he’d have to come back to help them back up to their feet. Perhaps this wasn't the best analogy, as the longer, it took for his province to adjust to the change the more frustrated he became.

The first two years had been the roughest, not only for the province but for the entire nation. In the weeks after the Liberation Act had been announced several protests, and even one riot had broken out across Flor. And, although full-blow segregation was illegal, some shops exercised their right to deny service to directly keep stackers out of certain parts of town, commonly in the upper districts. Employers also tended to reject stackers more commonly or force them to work in harsher conditions. But, what hurts the most in the societal shift, was the police brutality and prejudice.

As the Head of Security, it was Roman’s job to oversee all these areas, and no matter how many restrictions or ordinances he put in place, people always found ways to mistreat stackers, and he had received backlash and was accused of taking away non-stacker rights and giving them to the stackers. The fact that he had been working closely with the N.A.S.A.D and in the stacks on a personal level didn’t help to ease these biased claims either.

Roman had been pulled to the very end of his rope. He was tired, worn down, and exhausted with everything. He wasn’t able to spend as much time as he would like with his boyfriend because of his work and stress. He had lost most of his hobbies, and with each tiresome meeting or failure to make any substantial progress, Roman felt himself wither away a little more.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Roman couldn’t continue on like this indefinitely, or else he might have a breakdown of his own. So, with great remorse, Roman begrudgingly sent in his letter of resignation to Logan. Roman wasn’t sure exactly what he would do once he left office, but he knew that he couldn’t remain where he was any longer.

A sudden buzz from his desk phone alerted him to the incoming message from his assistant, Diana. Roman winced as he sat up straight in his chair, removing his feet from where they had been on top of his desk. He knew he would get an earful from Diana if she found out he had been procrastinating again.

“Sir, Senator Winchester is requesting your presence in his office.” His assistant's voice came robotically through the speaker.

“Right now?”

“Yes.” She said with an ever so slight hint of amusement behind her word. “Also, I know you’ve been slacking off again. Those files from the union better be done before two or else I’ll hunt you down.”

“I know you will, Ana. I’ll have them done, don’t worry about it.” Roman chuckled, recalling all the times Diana had forcibly sat him down at his desk to finish his work, leering over him until he finished every last document. That’s not to say that Roman didn’t often find a way of talking his way out of work or sneaking away when she wasn’t looking. Although that hadn’t worked out so well in his favor after his first year in office once Diana well acquainted herself with all his manner of bullshit.

Roman had given Diana quite a few headaches over the years and he wouldn’t honestly miss teasing her once he left.

“That’s a big request coming from you, sir.” She replied,

Roman huffed in a light, but hearty chuckle and stood from his seat, flattening the wrinkles from his suit with his palms. He steadied himself and took in a long inhale, preparing himself for the inevitable conversation with his oldest friend and boss.

Leaving his office he nodded to Diana as he passed her desk and made his way to the elevator to take him to the floor above where Logan’s office was located. Once he was tucked away alone in the elevator a buzz alerted from his phone in his pants pocket. Pulling it out, Roman checked it to see that Virgil had finally replied, fashionably late as always.

Chiquito: yeah, just pick me up after work (t_t)

You: what’s with the emoji?

Chiquito: supposed to be rolling my eyes

You: mi amor, osito, mi alma, it doesn’t look like that at all

Chiquito: (t_t)

…

A person is typically considered to be in the height of their life when they are in their thirties, free of the stress, confusion, and mistakes of one’s twenties and not yet exposed to the difficulties and hardships of one’s forties and beyond. Studies have shown that what people tend to consider to be ‘true happiness’ begins at age thirty-three. Despite this, data has also found that existential crises and increased job dissatisfaction also begin in people’s thirties.

True to the research, Logan found himself in a combination of satisfied and dissatisfied.

Ever since he became estranged from his family and moved out of the manor his father gave to him when he graduated college, Logan had felt more content and unrestricted than he had in all his life. His marriage to Patton and newfound fathership to their sons also brought a whole new meaning and joy to his life that he never had before. Every July, their family would make it a point to go on vacation for a few days, visiting new parts of the country, and even traveling once to the neighboring country of Ignis, although that required Patton and the twins filing for and receiving passports. And while those trips were quite enjoyable, his favorite moments were in the day to day. His happiness was in being able to wake up next to Patton and smile as he drooled on his pillow; it was in being able to take his sons out to the park on the weekends; and it was in the simplicity and easiness of his everyday life at home.

However, once he left and arrived at his office, his happiness became completely different. It was hard-fought for as stress, unrest, and irritation nagged at him every day from when he came into when he walked out. Over time the stress began to manifest as deep lines embedded themselves in his forehead and small grey hairs began to inch their way onto the sides of his head, giving him the appearance of a forty-year-old man instead of equating himself to his actual age of thirty-three.

That didn’t mean that Logan didn’t find a long-time sense of fulfillment and accomplishment in his work later down the line. Politics were often a slow venture, and despite it seeming simplistic in nature, choices appearing as natural as breathing for one person, all it took was one opposition to bring the train to a halting stop.

The progression of society and the economy since the Liberation Act had not been an easy walk. The path had been slick, steep, and filled with twists and turns. The mountain summit of full and complete integration of stackers back into society was still far off, and may not even be reached until after Logan’s time, but as long as his generation sets a clear foundation for the next to build upon and further expand, then the summit will eventually be reached.

The economy had also been a significant boulder standing in his path, and while the nation as a whole has yet to completely exit financial disruption, over half of the twenty-five provinces have begun recovery out of the recession.

As with the Liberation Act, Flor also acted as a template for economic recovery for the other provinces as the Cabinet and Council issued the government-funded reconstruction of the Stacks, rebuilding of lower-class homes and businesses, and construction of recreational parks, among other government paid projects, all of which meant that hundreds of thousands of jobs were being created, not only giving work to the jobless stackers, but to the jobless city dwellers as well. Unfortunately this also meant that Logan drove the government into debt and had to raise taxes in order to make up for what he had spent so that he could continue to pay all the government workers, but he chose to give only a three percent raise to middle and lower-class families, and a ten percent increases to the upper class, Logan wanted to take and even higher increase from the upper classes, but both his cabinet and council advised against it and voted for the lower raise, as many of the upper class were donors and employed much of the workforce. Knowing he could not change their minds, Logan reluctantly conceded to their demands.

In addition , he also charged for a revision in protected worker rights to make sure the lower class workers were being given back what they contributed to society, especially since he employed many of them who worked in construction.

Although this template was not universally accepted throughout all the provinces, a good amount did copy Flor’s economic strategy, adjusting it to fit their specific circumstances and needs. As it looked, and provided that the government was able to cap the growth before an inflation could occur, then the entire nation should be able to exit the economic depression within the next decade.

It has been a truly unique and incredible experience these past five years. Logan, during an interview, which had been an unusual happenstance in its own right as he preferred to stay away from media attention, had been told that he may possibly be a heavy historical figure to be taught in education one day.

Hearing that certainly surprised Logan as, although he didn’t mind being remembered or honored long after his time came to an end, it had not been what drove him to do his work. It could be very likely that some historians will paint him in a bad light as a blackmailer, crook, or radicalist. It was no secret that his annual opinion poll was always stiffly divided, sometimes his approval ratings were just barely higher than disapproval. However, Logan knew what it was he wanted to accomplish while in office and he knew that those things were often controversial, but that’s why he did them. Not everyone would be completely satisfied with his accomplishments, but any progress was progress in the long run. The fact that he still held office was a testimate that a majority of his people believed in what he was doing.

Logan could take the heat, he had been groomed since he was a child to be able to do so. But that’s not to say he expected all of his companions and subordinates to be capable of withstanding the flame of disapproval and stress.

It started to dawn on him gradually as the years passed, but Logan could see how negatively Roman had been affected by the intense workload and pressure to perform well. He was often restless at work, slow to finish, critical of his work and accomplishments, and quick to snap at others—but also quick to apologize. These signs of high stress, exhaustion, and lack of self-worth all pointed to mental burnout. Logan knew that it was time for Roman to move on from his position as his Head of Security, and although he wouldn’t be able to truly put his trust and faith in any other person to fulfill the job, Logan was ready to let him go.

A knock on his office door was swiftly followed by the voice of his personal assistant, Johnathan, who announced Roman’s arrival for their discussion. Logan ordered for his old friend to be let in, and Roman walked in soon after. He looked tired, his eyes heavy and dark, but he also looked nervous as he walked forward stiffly.

“Thank you for coming in on short notice, Roman.” Logan thanked his friend once he took a seat across from his desk.

“Ah, yeah, sure,” Roman replied jitterily, shifting back and forth in the chair until he was sitting on the edge, upright and tight. “You wanted to talk to me about something?” He asked, voice nearly cracking.

“Indeed I did. It’s about your resignation request.” Logan began, standing from his overly large desk chair.

Roman gulped and looked away nervously, obviously too afraid or ashamed to maintain eye contact. Logan signed and walked over towards his floor to ceiling window, gesturing for Roman to follow suit and join him. With slight hesitation, Roman got up and came to his side, keeping an eye on Logan instead of looking out the window.

“What do you see when you look out this window?” Logan prompted, turning his gaze as well.

Roman tore his gaze away and out the plexiglass, staring out into the heart of the city, with the middle and lower districts out in the distance, as well as what used to be the Stacks.

“I see Faun.” He replied.

“Yes, of course, but what else?” Logan prompted him further.

Roman let out an exhale and crossed his arms as he stared harder out the window. “I see buildings, houses, cars, and people.”

“Right again, but not quite correct.” Logan hummed, raising a hand to gesture widely to the whole of the view. “When I look out this window I see change. Change that has already happened, and change that has yet to come.”

Roman cocked an eyebrow and leveled Logan with an unimpressed look, uncrossing his arms to place them high on his hips.

“You’re usually not this eloquent. Has Patton been influencing you again?”

“Maybe, I did marry him after all.” The senator laughed slightly under his breath. “What I’m saying is that change is all about perspective. You could move a hill and still mourn over the mountain that you haven’t picked up yet. Reforming Flor, no, our nation won’t be easy. It may take decades until we successfully move our mountain. What matters in the meantime is that we never lose sight of the hills we’ve overcome in the process.”

“Wow, idioms, Patton really must have been influencing you.” Roman snickered rudely but caught himself when Logan leveled him with a serious look. The head of security sighed and dropped his hands down to his side and turned to look back out the window. “You’re rejecting my request, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m agreeing to it.”

“Wait, seriously?” Roman practically shouted, swinging back around with wide eyes.

“Roman you have done an excellent job these past five years, but everyone has their limits, and it would be cruel of me to ask any more from you.” Logan said, placing a comforting hand on the other man’s shoulder.

Roman looked down and away, stepping to the side out of his reach and letting the hand fall off his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

The senator let out a small exhale and took a step after him, returning his hand to his shoulder in comforting reassurance, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Don’t be, all I ask is that you remain by my side until I can find a suitable replacement and train them. I already have a few candidates in mind. I would only be asking for you to continue until November once I return from Summit, would you be able to do that for me?” Logan requested.

“Of course,” Roman agreed, raising a hand to give him a lazy salute.

“At ease.” Logan chuckled, walking away to return to his desk before pausing in his step to gaze over his shoulder. “So what will you be doing once you’re gone?”

Roman took a moment to ponder the idea of a new life and career for a moment, an idea he hadn’t given much thought to in years.

“I’m not sure,” Roman answered honestly, his face relaxed and happy, full of hopeful anticipation. “But I’ll be glad to finally get to choose again.”

“Well, I wish you the best,” Logan told him, remaining at his side to watch the clouds above the city go by together in peace.

It was good to see his oldest, and first true friend finally return to himself again, excited and full of life. If it wasn’t for Roman, Logan wouldn’t have been able to do the things he had done. It wouldn’t be the same once he left his cabinet, but he was relieved that Roman would be able to find happiness of his own.

...

Once the only timely accurate grandfather clock in his shop struck six o’clock, Virgil turned the sign on the door and locked up the shop. Hoa worked behind him sweeping the main floor and placing any new clocks they had received in shipment on display, mainly the digital ones. While he did sell clocks and watches of his own creation, Virgil had also secured a partnership with a company out in the Lila Province south of them, as well as a few local crafters, to keep up with supplies.

As Hoa finished stocking, Virgil opened the till and counted the money before placing it in the safe in the small office beside the backroom where they crafted and repaired the clocks. Work had been steady lately, if things continued the way they were, Virgil would soon be able to hire on some extra hands and allow him and Hoa some more time off. Work was never too stressful, but it did become tiring when it was just the two of them managing and working the store. Hopefully Virgil would be able to hire someone soon and finally take his vacation days to relax and laze around his house for a few days, maybe even go on a camping trip in the mountains for a weekend with Roman, if he was able to find time off anyways.

As Virgil exited the back room, locking it behind him with the staff key, a notification pinged in his hoodie pocket. It was a short text from Roman telling him that he was on his way to pick him up for their date.

“Shit!” Virgil shouted before quickly apologizing to Hoa, who gasped at him disapprovingly. She didn’t like his cursing in the house or shop, especially after Pearl began to copy him and started shouting a few colorful words while she and her mother were at the market.

Practically throwing himself up the stairs to his apartment, Virgil ran into his bedroom to quickly change out of his work clothes. Knowing he didn't have too much time to carefully put his outfit together, but still overly conscious of how he looked, Virgil immediately went for the outfit he knew Roman liked the most. Ruffling through his dresser, Virgil grabbed his favorite black, loose-fitting crop top and his ripped black skinny jeans. To complete the outfit, Virgil grabbed his dark purple combat boots and leather jacket. Once he was dressed, Virgil then sprinted to the bathroom and became a wretched mess as he tried to brush his teeth, brush his hair, and put on deodorant all at the same time.

Miraculously, Virgil was able to finish getting ready on time, finishing up his eyeshadow just as Roman walked through the door, using the key Virgil gave him.

“Virge, you ready to go?” Roman called from the entryway.

Virgil peeked his head out the bathroom door to reply, “Yeah, I’m good!”

Closing his eyeshadow container and putting it away in his makeup bag underneath the sink, Virgil turned off the bathroom light and walked out into the hallway. Just as he had anticipated, once Roman spotted him his jaw dropped and he was left dumbfounded and turning red. Virgil would have gloated about it and poked fun at his boyfriend, if he hadn’t had the same reaction once he saw Roman. He had cleaned up as well and wore dark wash jeans, tight but not quite skinny, with a fitted white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top three buttons left undone.

The two were then left to stand in the middle of the hallway blushing and avoiding eye contact as they fumbled over their words like lovestruck idiots. Hoa watched them with an amused look from the kitchen as she sipped on her cup of hot tea.

“Uhm, s-should we get going?” Roman asked, covering his red cheeks with the palm of his hand, keeping his eyes firmly tied to the plain white wall.

“Sure,” Virgil nodded, fiddling with his long purple bangs sheepishly.

Virgil grabbed his wallet and house keys from the small dish on the table next to the door while Roman fiddled with the doorknob to open the door, offering for the clockmaker to exit first. Virgil smiled and nodded as he left his apartment and descended down the stairs and exited out the left door at the bottom of the stairwell, which led out into the back driveway. Once they both were outside they got in and sat down in Roman’s Audi. Music on the radio played quietly in the background as Roman backed out and drove onto the road.

The sun was close to set in the background and the once blue sky was now painted orange and pink. The two sat in silence for most of the drive, but the awkwardness of it slowly began to fade as they simply became comfortable sitting in peace together. Roman hummed the lyrics to a song that played over the speakers as Virgil scrolled through his phone. At some point during the ride, Virgil unconsciously reached out his hand and Roman took it without thinking. The two froze for a moment and glanced at each other, gave an awkward smile and returned to what they had been doing before.

After a short fifteen minutes later, Roman pulled to the street curb a few blocks down from the restaurant. It was a simple pizza parlor but it was also extremely popular and was often booked out almost every night. After making the mistake two times before, Roman and Virgil had learned to call in at least an hour before to reserve a table.

Once the car came to a stop, Roman quickly threw it into park and ran out the car, jogging around the hood so that he could open the door for Virgil, adding a dramatic bow as an added topping.

“Wow, such a gentleman.” Virgil teased, stepping out of the car.

“You deserve nothing less,” Roman said and took his hand to help him out, giving it a kiss as he stood up. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” Virgil rolled his eyes and playfully nudged Roman with his shoulder as he walked past, taking the lead down the sidewalk to the pizza place.

Quickly locking the door with his remote key, Roman strode to his side and slowed to match his pace. He offered a hand to Virgil and the younger man took it happily, but drew the line when Roman tried to swing their arms, keeping him locked down so it wouldn’t budge from his side.

“You’re no fun.” Roman pouted,

“And you’re a child.” Virgil jibed at him, elbowing him in the side lightly.

Roman laughed and rubbed at his side, turning his nose up as he gave him a mischievous grin, suddenly hooking his arm around Virgil’s shoulders so he could pull him in close and ruffle his hair.

“If either of us were a child it’d be you, chiquito.”

“I’m a grown-ass adult, old man.” Virgil huffed, shoving Roman off of him and carefully fixed his messy purple hair.

“Excuse you, but I am only thirty, kid.” Roman stopped to correct him, crossing his arms over a jutted hip.

“To be fair, I’m used to age expectancy being around fifty, which means that you technically are an old man to me.” Virgil countered nonchalantly, waving Roman off and continuing to walk down the now illuminated street, leaving Roman to gasp offendedly alone as a street lamp flickered on above him.

“I’m likely to live to be at least ninety with my genes, so I’m still well in my prime!” He defended, trotting up behind him, weaving his way through the light crowd of people walking around them to reach his side again.

“Okay, okay, you’re not old!” Virgil said apologetically, “You’re middle-aged.”

“That’s it!” Roman said, turning around and stomping back to his car.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I’ll stop now.” Virgil apologized again, reaching for Roman’s hand to stop him in his retreat. “I’m sorry, Ro, I take it back.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes, now stop being a kid.”

“You’re not sorry at all.”

Ignoring his comment, Virgil pulled Roman along by the hand down the final block and into the restaurant. As per usual, the place was nearly packed full to the brim with people like sardines in a can. The waiting area was also full of families and couples waiting in line for a table, so much so that the line spilled out the door and onto the street. Such was the reputation of the little parlor for having the best pizza in the city. Virgil remembered the first time he had ever come here he had almost up and left after waiting for an hour to get a table, but once he tasted the pizza all frustration and bitterness left him. That’s not to say he ever wanted to wait that long for a seat again.

“Reservation for Roman Sanchez?” Virgil said to the hostess once he walked up to the front desk, still dragging a sulking Roman behind him.

“Roman Sanchez,” The hostess hummed to herself as she looked through her reservation booklet until she found the name she was looking for. “Okay, your table is ready for you, if you would follow me?”

Nodding his head, Virgil tailed behind the woman and made his way through the busy restaurant to a small table in the center of the restaurant. Virgil inwardly grimaced when he saw the table, already knowing that he'd hate being squeezed between other patrons, but didn’t voice his complaint in fear of annoying the hostess by asking for a different table.

Once the two took their seats, the hostess handed them both their each menu before departing from them to return to the front desk. Soon after, their waiter came to their table to take their drink order, Virgil asking for a cola and Roman asking for a beer. After their short order was written down on the waiter’s little notepad, they were left alone once again to mull over the menu options.

Despite the noisy chattering and blaring music, all Virgil could focus on was the odd silence between them. It wasn’t comfortable or reassuring like the silence in the car had been. This silence was heavy with words left unsaid. Virgil raised an eyebrow as he carefully watched Roman over the brim of his menu. He knew something was upsetting him, as Roman only ever drank alcohol when he was upset. It wasn’t just that either, overall, Roman looked a little more tired than usual.

A nervous tick pinched at the back of his mind as he began to worry that he might have gone too far back on the street. It wasn’t as though they never fought, they had their occasional squabbles every once in a while, but that didn’t mean fighting was enjoyable for either one of them.

“Hey, Roman, you okay?” Virgil asked, rubbing his hands together in his lap, out of view underneath the table. “I’m sorry for making fun of you back there.”

“It’s not that, I know you like to tease.” Roman sighed, leaning his cheek into his palm, “Sorry, I don’t want to ruin our date, work’s been a little stressful.”

“No it’s okay. Did Logan get your letter of resignation?” Virgil asked, reaching out to hold Roman’s hand across the table.

“He did, and he accepted, but he also asked if I could stay for two more months while he’s away at the summit,” Roman explained, lowering his other hand to place it on top of Virgil’s. “I’m glad to help him, I am, but I really just don’t want to be there anymore.”

“Well at least it’s only another two months, maybe you can use this time to finish any loose ends so that you won’t have to stress about anything once you leave?” Virgil suggested, trying to be positive and cheer up the other man.

The waiter returned with their drinks, setting them down before their respective person. Roman thanked him and asked for a few more minutes to decide on their order, mostly just so they could have their privacy again to continue their conversation, but also because they hadn’t even looked at the menu yet.

“Maybe,” Roman murmured, twirling his drink around in his hand, “But I’m definitely going to take a whole month off on vacation once I’m done.” He decided, taking a swig out of his glass.

“You deserve it, don’t burn yourself out like I did.” Virgil smiled and took a sip out of his own drink, opening his menu again to actually look over it. “Any ideas for your vacation?”

“Nope.” Roman chuckled, copying Virgil and opening his menu as well, “Maybe I’ll visit the Magnificent Canyon, or take a trip to the Bluewood Forest.”

“Sounds neat, though I don’t know what either of those things are.”

“I’ll have to take you then. I’m sure you’d love the Magnificent Canyon, it’s a world destination for hikers and rock climbers.” Roman explained, looking over the deep dish options.

“Well now I definitely want to go. I should be hiring soon so I can leave Hoa in charge while we-”

Out of nowhere a sudden loud crash sounded from somewhere in the restaurant. Practically all of the patrons in the dining area, including Roman and Virgil, froze and looked around frantically for the cause of the noise.

While those around him only appeared mildly spooked and caught off guard in the middle of their dinner by the unprecedented noise, Virgil stilled in his seat and shut down completely in fear. His senses were blocked off and he was unable to hear the simple explanation from the hostess, announcing that a small problem had happened with one of the stoves, but was being taken care of, nor was he able to hear the concerned questioning from Roman across from him.

His surroundings faded away and took him away from where he was in the restaurant, surrounded by people, as his memories brought him back to the aqueduct, away from the crowds, his knees in the snow and a gun against the back of his head. A gunshot resonated in his ears and then a thump fell behind him. His heart raced in his chest as his entire body shook, screaming at him that he was in danger. Against his will and better judgment, Virgil turned and looked and saw blood staining the white snow. Calhoun laid displayed on the ground, a hole open in his skull, as Damien stalked towards him, his eyes narrowed sadistically with a manic grin spread across his face.

“They should get that stove fixed,” Roman said calmly, breaking through and chasing away the memory.

“Stove?” Virgil echoed, snapping back to his actual location, the sounds of the chattering people and bustling waiters returning gradually as his eyes refocused and began to recognize that he was still in the restaurant, not back in the past with Calhoun and Damien.

“Yes, we’re still in the pizza parlor. That sound was a stove in the kitchen. You’re safe here.” Roman reassured him, giving his hand that Virgil had realized he had been holding a light squeeze.

“I’m in the pizza parlor.” He repeated to himself, desperately trying to remind himself that he wasn’t back in the past. “I’m in the pizza parlor.”

“Right, you’re here with me,” Roman said kindly, rubbing a thumb over Virgil’s palm to ground him. “Do you want to stay or go home?”

“Stay.”

“Okay, what do you want to order?”

“Sausage and pepperoni.”

“Alright,” Roman smiled, giving his hand another tight squeeze for good measure. “How do you feel?”

“A bit shaken up,” Virgil confessed in an exhale, leaning forward over the table, laying his head down in his arms.

“Do you think you can manage to eat here, or do you want to take it to go?” Roman asked, running his fingers through Virgil’s purple hair.

“To go.” He sighed.

After they ordered their pizza, and waited thirty minutes for it to arrive, the two paid for their tab, packed up, and went back to the car to leave. The two didn’t end up going to see the movie they had planned to go to after they had left the restaurant, despite having plenty of time to make it to the theater. Instead, the two both agreed that they were mentally and emotionally exhausted and decided to crash at Roman’s apartment.

Roman scrolled through his television until he found one of his favorite comfort shows, putting it on in the background as Virgil returned to the sofa after raiding the freezer for ice cream, handing a mug and spoon to Roman as he crawled into his lap. They sat and mocked the show for its inconsistencies and plot holes, finding more fun in criticizing the show than actually watching it.

It was fun and it helped to calm Virgil’s shaken nerves from earlier and take his mind off of things. Even so, there was a twinge of guilt and anxiety in the pit of his gut and the back of his mind that kept him ever so slightly on edge.

As simple and plain as it seemed, watching tv and eating from home was how Roman and Virgil often preferred to spend their time together. Even before they started dating almost a year ago, they would always hang out on the weekends either at Roman’s apartment or at Virgil’s.

Being together in a comforting setting was their normal, in fact it was so normal that when they first labeled themselves as being in a relationship they thought they had to go out and do something for each one of their dates and stopped hanging out together at home just lazing around. And although they did enjoy going out every once in a while, they had their best time just chatting and watching tv on the couch eating junk food.

It was for that reason that whenever the other was having a bad day, they would come over to the other’s house to calm down and relax.

That little tradition was started about three years ago when Virgil started therapy. Roman has tagged along for a few of his sessions, with Virgil’s consent, because he wanted to know how to better help and understand Virgil’s situation. Virgil’s doctor guided Roman through the steps of what to do when Virgil had a flashback and or panic attack, such as tonight.

Virgil constantly told Roman that he didn’t have to put in so much effort, but Roman always said that he wanted to be there to help him in any way he could. Sometimes Virgil felt like he was too much of a burden to date. They couldn’t do the same things other couples did or be intimate like lovers were supposed to be. Roman told him that he didn’t care and would wait until Virgil was ready, but he didn’t think he ever would be.

He had honestly been blessed to have such an understanding and caring boyfriend and best friend, which made Virgil fear that he wasn’t giving into the relationship as equally as he had been taking.

As the episode came to an end and the next began to load, Virgil looked up nervously at Roman and shifted to sit up more. Roman moved his legs as well to make more room for him to sit comfortably.

“Hey, uh, sorry for ruining our date.” Virgil murmured, keeping his eyes locked on his hands and picked at the dirt underneath his fingernails.

Despite not being able to see his face, Virgil could tell that Roman was frowning at him. It was the pause in-breath and little exhale out from his nose and the way Roman stopped running his fingers through his hair, rubbing in between his fingers instead, that gave his expression away.

“You didn’t ruin anything, I was the one who was in a bad mood pretty much the whole time.” He replied, shifting his body again to slouch further into the couch.

Virgil looked up at Roman, the light of the television as the next episode began to play in the background, unnoticed, illuminated Roman’s soft features as he gazed back. It dawned on him then that he must have been thinking the same way the whole time.

“That didn’t bother me. Stress sucks ass, I don’t blame you for that.” Virgil said, reaching up to cup his cheek in his palm. Roman leaned into the touch and placed a hand over Virgil’s, sighing peacefully.

“Well then we’re both in agreement, neither of us ruined our date.” Said Roman.

Virgil smiled and lifted his head, pulling Roman down as well, to place a short but sweet kiss on his lips.

“I guess so.” He whispered against his lips.

Roman smiled back and pulled him back in, shifting their bodies for a third time so that he was hovering over Virgil, his back up against the arm of the couch, deepening the kiss. Virgil gasped a little at the movement and then moaned blissfully right after as Roman ran a soothing hand up and down his back.

The first time Virgil ever did something like this he had been just fifteen. It had been forceful and painful as he was held down and violated. Once would have been enough to make him distrustful of physical intimacy, but it went on weekly, almost daily, for years. Virgil had believed that he was broken and dirty and swore to himself that he would never let anyone close that way ever again.

Then Roman came along, offering Virgil his space and freedom. He asked nothing of Virgil, he held no expectations of reward in return for his good deeds, and he never once did anything without Virgil’s consent. Even when Virgil rejected him and set up boundaries, Roman didn’t leave. He agreed with those set boundaries and helped maintain them, he did not pressure him or lash out when he was rejected, nor did he abandon him. Roman waited at his side, at a distance, as a friend for years until Virgil was ready to open up again; and even when they finally started dating, he still didn’t pressure Virgil to give him any more than what he was comfortable with.

He truly was blessed to have a boyfriend and best friend like Roman. He was someone who made Virgil feel safe and independent. They were equals in this relationship, even if Virgil found it harder to give back because of his mental health, he still gave what he could; and Roman took it gratefully and gave back lovingly.

...

Patton paced back and forth in the community center’s lobby, nervously watching the time on his phone and looking around at the gathered parents for his missing husband. It was currently four-fifty in the afternoon, ten minutes before the start of the show. The entire family, and even a few extras, had come to Thomas’s opening night. Logan had been overwhelmed at work for the past week in preparation for leaving to go to the capital the next day. Even so, he had promised both Patton and Thomas that he’d be there for the play, even if he had to abandon his work for the night. However, the play was close to starting and Logan had still yet to arrive at the community theater where it was being held.

Emile sat a little ways off on the short staircase with his best friend Elliot, who was currently absorbed in a game on their phone, and watched as his dad anxiously marched in circles with concern.

“Pa, I’m sure dad will be here soon.” Emile supplied, trying to reassure him.

“But the play starts in ten minutes! What if he doesn’t make it on time!” Patton said frantically, attempting to call Logan for the fourth time in the past fifteen minutes. The call went through to voicemail once again and caused Patton only to become more worried.

“He still has ten more minutes.” Virgil joined in, Roman at his side, walking over from the snack bar with popcorn, candy, and drinks for everyone to consume during the play. “We should really go save a seat, or else they're all gonna be taken.”

“You can go, I’m going to wait here a little longer.” Patton sighed, looking back at his unread messages.

“Suit yourself.” Virgil shrugged and headed towards the theater doors with Roman.

Patton searched around worriedly at the parents walking through the door and scanned his eyes over the parking lot for Logan’s car. Emile frowned and got up from his seat beside Elliot to go over to his dad.

“Pa, dad will be here soon. Let’s go in before the play starts.” He urged, lending a hand for Patton to take.

“Okay, kiddo.” He sighed and conceded, taking his son's hand and walking with him to the theater door.

Elliot joined the two of them as they walked up the stairs and the three of them all went into the auditorium together. Elliot was Emile’s best and one of his only friends, and while Larry and Dot did come over to hang out sometimes, Elliot practically lived there with their family. So even though they technically weren’t part of the family through blood or legal relations, they were considered an honorary member because of their friendship with Emile.

Virgil and Roman ended up finding them seats in the fourth and fifth rows, a little bit apart, but as close together as the two could manage. Virgil and Roman sat together in the back row along with Emile and Elliot, while Patton was left alone with an empty chair beside him in the row in front of them. The two groups chatted with each other while they waited for the start of the show. The entire audience likewise was lively and noisy as parents, friends, and all other manner spoke with each other. Patton, on the other hand, sat quietly by himself watching the time tick by on his phone.

It was Logan’s last day in Faun before he had to leave for another two months. Patton had hoped that he could spend it with his husband and family before he had to go.

The lights began to fade overhead and the theater quieted and went silent as the spotlight rose on the curtain, until it was pulled away to reveal the setting. The story was apparently a famous one, although Patton had never heard of it, and followed a young girl named Dorthy and her family when a sudden tornado separated them, taking Dorthy to a strange new place. Just as the Good Witch appeared, a sudden weight settled down in the seat beside him and Patton looked over with glee to see that Logan had finally arrived.

“Sorry, I’m late, the traffic was awful today.” He explained, shifting around in his seat to get comfortable. “What did I miss?”

“Dorthy just ended up in Oz. Thomas hasn’t shown up yet.” Patton replied, leaning over to give Logan a quick kiss on the lips. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Me too.” He agreed,

They sat together holding hands, fingers intertwined, for the duration of the play. Occasionally the bowl of popcorn would be passed to them before they would pass it back. When Thomas’s time finally came to appear, the family all cheered and applauded. Patton took out his phone to record all of his parts and made sure not to miss a single moment that he was on stage.

An overwhelming feeling of pride and joy-filled him as he watched his son act and saw the young eleven-year old’s passion and talent come to life. He knew then that if Thomas wanted to pursue a career in acting that he would support him a hundred percent of the way.

After two hours, including one intermission, passed, the play came to an end and all the children and adults who worked on the play came on stage for a bow. Patton jumped up and down as he clapped and whistled, and while the rest of the family was as rowdy as him, they all cheered loudly for Thomas as well. Once his son changed out of his costume and came out from the backstage, Patton ran over and pulled him into a large hug, picking him up and spinning him around.

“Ah! My boy is so talented!” He cheered bouncing around, nearly squeezing the life out of the poor boy.

“Agh, pa put me down!” Thomas cried, trying to break out of the hold as he blushed in embarrassment, looking around at the other kids to make sure the other kids didn’t see such a horrendous sight as him being hugged by his dad.

Patton complied and set Thomas back down on his feet, but continued to bounce on the balls of his feet in excitement.

“You’re dad means well,” Logan told him as he walked up and ruffled the boy’s hair, “Good job out there, Thomas.”

“Thanks, dad.” He smiled, stepping out of his reach and fixing his hair.

“Well, if you have all your things then let’s head back to the car. We’re going to Debby’s to celebrate!” Patton said shuffling the boys towards the door out to the lobby.

The boys all cheered and talked amongst themselves, taking the lead ahead of the adults back to the car. Patton stayed back with his husband and eldest to make plans for meeting up at the restaurant since they all came in different cars.

“Virgil, do you know how to get there?”

“Which Denny’s is it?” Virgil asked.

“The one on Harrison.”

“Oh, I know that one. We can meet you there.” Roman spoke up, responding for his boyfriend, maybe because he knew Virgil didn’t know the way there.

“Okay, great!” Patton said and waved goodbye as the two set out for their car to head to the breakfast house. “See you there. Logan?” He turned to his husband, his smile still wide across his cheeks. However, once he saw the guilt-ridden expression on his face, the smile fell away.

“I’m sorry, I have to go back home and prepare for my flight tomorrow and set up meetings for when I arrive.” Logan informed in an apologetic sigh, taking Patton’s hands in his, “Give my condolences to the children.”

Patton hung his head down and glared at their entwined hands. He knew when he married Logan that their marriage wasn’t going to be easy, and he accepted a future of difficulties willingly in exchange for a life spent with him at his side. That didn’t mean that he never despised the fact that half of their marriage would be spent apart. As much as he tried to remain positive and cheerful in the time they did have with each other.

“Okay. I’ll see you at home sweety.” He mumbled, looking up to give him a bright, but fake smile.

Logan looked back with a pained face riddled with guilt. Patton tried to smile brighter, but he knew his facade did nothing to reassure his husband. Neither one of them liked the few days before his trip when they tried so desperately to be together, but were pulled apart by work, but it was the life they had accepted.

“Thank you, love.” Logan eventually said, placing a kiss on Patton’s forehead. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

“You better.” Patton hummed, leaning his head on Logan’s shoulder as he hugged him goodbye.

Walking out to the parking lot, Logan said goodbye to their sons and saw them off, but not before requesting that they bring him back a blueberry milkshake.

By the time he arrived at Debby’s, Virgil and Roman had already gotten a table for their group. The restaurant was fairly busy, which wasn’t a surprise since it was a Saturday night. The three kids all sat close with each other and spoke about some new show that Patton didn’t recognize. He would speak with Virgil and Roman every so often, but for the most part, he sat quietly and listened to their conversation as a third party.

Try as he might to enjoy the night, a large part of him couldn’t help but miss Logan and wish that he had come as well. The next two months weren’t going to be easy; they never were.

Instead of pouting, however, Patton decided to turn to his twins and listen in on their conversation, asking about the show they were obsessing over. Emile was more than glad to tell him about the entire plot of the show, all the character backstories and developing arcs, and his personal predictions for what would happen next. Thomas would then interject with his differing opinion and go on about his favorite couples in the show. Elliot remained quiet for the most part, but they would chime in occasionally to agree with Emile or poke fun at Thomas.

Listening to his sons' talk and engaging with them about their interests always helped him as a stress reliever. He liked to hear them get excited about what they liked, and it helped to clear his mind.

They all ended up staying there for almost three hours, remaining there after dinner for dessert and ice cream. However, despite tomorrow being a Sunday, Patton didn’t want to keep the kids out too long and decided it was time to go home.

But not before ordering Logan’s milkshake to go.

After parting with Virgil and Roman, Patton drove Elliot home to drop them off, but after some desperate begging from all three children, Patton allowed Elliot to spend the night at their place with the allowance of their parents. So, after a quick rush inside to grab a night's worth of clothes and ask for permission, Elliot got back in the car and they all headed back to the house.

Like a bullet, as soon as Patton pulled into the driveway and threw the car into park, the three kids all shot out and ran up the porch stairs and into the house, disappearing to hang out for the rest of the evening. Patton chuckled to himself as he followed behind them, making sure to lock the door and turn on the porch light.

As expected, he found Logan in his office, on a video call with Joan. He was so focused on the call that he didn’t notice Patton until he placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hi, Joan!” Patton greeted, interrupting their discussion and pushing his way into the video by leaning over Logan’s shoulder.

“Heya Pat, how’ve you been?”

“Just fine, the association’s hosting a National holiday event next week.”

“Aw man, we’ll have to celebrate in Clover then.” They said and then turned back to address Logan. “Don’t worry about the details, Annalee already put in the paperwork. You should have full access by the time you arrive.”

“Perfect, then I will see you tomorrow at the airport. Have a good night.” Logan said gratefully, heaving a relieved sigh and leaning back in his desk chair. Patton leaned further into him as he did so and Logan rested his head against his chest in return.

“Good night, Joan!” Patton waved goodbye at the screen.

“Good night! And wear a con-!”

Logan hung up on them before they could finish what they were saying, but it was enough to leave him blushing red while Patton simply laughed it off. Joan had always liked to tease the two of them, even before they married. Years later, their teasing was still able to embarrass Logan, who had always been the shyer one of them.

“So everything is all settled now, you all ready to go?” Patton asked, propping himself up onto the desk.

“I am, and my first task will be with Annalee, finally recovering all information on the Stacks from the underground archives.” Logan replied, taking off his glasses to rub tiredly at his eyes.

“Then we’ll finally know why, huh? Why my family and everyone else was put there.” Pattom mumbled, thinking back to the parents he barely knew or remembered, who died long before their time. “My people have stories and ideas, but none of us know the actual truth.”

“And they will soon,” Logan told him, placing a hand over his.

Patton smiled and entwined their fingers and gave it a comforting squeeze. He still remembered the night Logan told him about the government conspiracy surrounding the Stacks and the missing files he believed were in the underground archives of the Senatorial Hall. Logan had asked him all he knew about the Stacks' origins, and Patton answered in honesty, that he and all the stackers were told and believed it was because of the economy. He, however, believed that something more sinister was in the works. That night, Logan promised that he would right the wrong that had been done to Patton and his people and would make sure the truth was honored in history books, no matter how horribly it reflected on the Senate.

In all honesty, Patton didn’t take it too personally whether or not he himself learned the truth, but as a whole, he knew that the Association and all stackers across the nation would be better for it to be acknowledged and remembered for future generations. So that the pain and suffering they endured would never be reduced to nothing or erased.

Sliding off the desk, Patton tugged on Logan’s arm, pulling him up from his chair so that he could lean in and give him a short but sweet kiss on his way up.

“Good, now come to bed. I won’t see you for two months, so I’m not gonna let you out of my sight for the rest of the night.” He grinned, pulling a baffled and pink Logan towards the door. Even after four years of marriage, Logan was still easy to fluster and it was one of Patton’s favorite things about him.

“Yes sir,” Logan chuckled, trailing behind him out of the office, hand in hand.

…

It took eighteen months after the initial reveal to the public for Chancellor Newman to properly be impeached. Nearly two years went by, spent on investigations and numerous trials on Newman’s involvement with the Stacks. The main issue of the investigation was the fact that their country didn’t have a separate judicial system in the government, which meant that the senate had to play judge themselves. That fact made it easy for Newman to cover his tracks with the help of his loyal followers, and hard for his enemies to pin sound evidence on his involvement. It also made it hard to find unbiased prosecutors to handle the case. Even now, three years after his impeachment, a separate national judiciary was still up for discussion among the senate.

Nevertheless, as the months went by and pressure increased from the public for a verdict to be made, Newman’s loyalists began slipping away, leaving him vulnerable. Newman was tried and convicted for conspiracy and treason, and an emergency election was held to replace him until the end of the term. The next chancellor voted in to replace Newman and lead their country through their troubled times was Annalee Day, who was well respected on both sides of the Government. One year later when the replacement term ended and official elections came around, Annalee ran for the Chancellorship and managed to achieve it through one of the highest popular votes in their recorded history.

The unfortunate part in all of this was that out of all of Newman’s old loyalists, one of the few who wasn’t voted out of office in the next election or tried with him was Senator Quinn. Although she stepped down to Deputy, she still remained a part of the Senate. Her province, Ivy, was the last to implement the liberation act, nearly three years after it’s enactment in Flor. Ivy was also one of the highest in the polls for anti-stacker laws still kept intact and enforced. Logan wished he could simply take over her province as well and erase those laws himself, but their constitution declared that it was not up to him to make that call for a province other than his own. All he could do is continue to work on making the liberation act a national law and not an option for each province to make, which, evidently, would be one of the first of this summit’s many debates.

For now, however, Logan would focus on the reason he had arrived in Clover so early.

Most of the other senators and deputies were still in their own provinces, not yet having made their way to the capital for the summit, so the Senatorial Hall was expectedly vacant, filled with only a few faculty members and officials here and there. Logan had left for the hall the moment he had landed, leaving Joan to take their luggage to their hotel, which he promised to make up for later by treating them to a buffet.

Annalee stood waiting for him in the Senatorial Archives, leaning against one of the many posts of the vast room’s architecture while she worked on some type of business on her tablet. Once he got close, Logan cleared his throat, drawing her attention up to him.

“Oh, hey Logan!” She perked up with a wide smile. “I didn’t see you there.”

“I could tell.” Logan replied jokingly. He knew full well how busy Annalee had become since becoming Chancellor. It was one of the many reasons she had resigned from the Hidden Lion’s Club as the President. She offered the position to him, as he was the original founder, but Logan thought it best to simply dissolve the group. A secret society meant to purge corruption from the government will only become corrupted itself in time, and Logan would rather not have that on his hands. “Are we ready?”

“Of course! Follow me.” Annalee said, heading for the elevator door Logan once tried to find a way to bypass his way into.

It was odd, he had spent so many years wondering about what could be down there, trying to find a way to force his way to that knowledge. It was what brought him to discover the booklet left by Patrick Richardson, which in turn eventually led to him uncovering the entire conspiracy. Which then later led to his public reveal and establishment of the liberation act.

To think that this had all happened because he saw his sons playing a war game, reenacting an old rebel battle. Without their childish game, he may have never become curious about the Stacks, leaving them to suffer on for God knows how many more years.

Once the metal doors of the elevator pulled open an expansive chamber filled with boundless bookshelves and cabinets was revealed. The room was oddly lit, giving it a strange blue tint to the walls while the center was left shrouded in darkness. The dust build-up floated and hovered across the room like a mist, giving it an almost haunted appearance.

Parting from Annalee’s side, Logan made his way in, overcome by astonishment as he slowly took in the immeasurable amount of records and data kept in there.

“There’s a computer system located over here on the left. It should be able to pinpoint the exact location of the files for us.” Annalee said, walking behind him over to the center pedestal which held up a single digital screen. Activating the device, she searched through the database to find the designated location of the files they had come for. After a few moments of rummaging through the system, she cheered quietly to herself in triumph once she found it.

“Row Three-T, spot number eight thousand sixty-nine.” She informed him.

Giving her a quiet thanks, Logan walked down the rows to the coordinates he had received. There he found three old files marked CLASSIFIED. Bringing the papers to one of the center tables, Logan turned on a lamplight to sit down and read. Many parts of the pages were blocked out in black ink so that Logan could not read it, but what was available to him read as followed:

Date XX, XX, XX80

According to the XXXX Census held by the National Security and Intel Bureau, the population of Ura has increased by twenty-six percent over the past ten years. The national population is now at 705,865,420. Data provided through the NSIB project predicts for the population to remain on a steady incline, reaching over one billion by year XXXX.

A drought has hit the southwestern portion of Ura, impoverishing nine of the twenty-five provinces, including but not limited to: Iris, Oakland, Bramble, Ivy, Daffodil, Birchwood, Aloe, Rosered, and Sunflower. Crop output has fallen by nearly thirty-eight percent. Trade with foreign nations has increased to make up for the food shortages, but the usual cost has been raised by five percent by Gemma, and ten percent by Ignis.

NSIB had predicted an estimated total loss of life of at least 250,000, an increase in infant mortality rate due to malnutrition, a homeless increase of eight percent, and a lowered standard of living over the next five years. Households of four or more are predicted to lose at least one family member each.

Depending on the continuation of population growth and the duration of the drought and famine, loss of life may increase by fifteen-percent and the stock market will drop by twenty-nine percent.

Date XX, XX, XX87

According to the XXXX Census held by the National Security and Intel Bureau, the population of Ura has increased by nineteen percent. Loss of life had reached twenty thousand.

Riots of protesting farmers and citizens have spread throughout Ura, originating in Ivy and Sunflower. Radical factions have begun to form, calling for a dismantling of the current leadership. Chancellor Fredrickson has implemented the One Child Act, limiting each family unit to only one child, with a penalty by fines and restricted government aid.

Chancellor Fredrickson has also instigated the Unification Initiative, forbidding public defamation of the National Senate and Chancellor under penalty of fine and or arrest.

Date XX, XX, XX92

Under the proposal of Senator Knightly, The Stacks Experiment Initiative has been instigated for testing in the Province of Ivy. Known and suspected radicalists and their families have been moved to the enclosed A-Sixty grounds for execution. The overall population of Ivy has decreased by three percent. Population growth has seen no noticeable halt.

Chancellor Fredrickson has called for the mass execution of all radicalists across all twenty-five provinces. The Chancellor’s Secret Service has been directed to carry out the order under Column Nine. A noticeable population drop of seven percent has been recorded.

A new Direct Order, irrevocable by Senate vote, had been charged by Chancellor Fredrickson. To repeat the process of removing another ten percent of the population after the next Census.

Date XX, XX, XX20

A noticeable drop in population growth has arrived at twelve percent. The population of Ura is now 211,417,000 as of the XXXX Census. Chancellor Ellon has taken up the charge of maintaining T.S.E.I and continuing the lowering of the population.

Several revolts have appeared across thirteen of the Stack Sites. Chancellor Ellon has issued an order of Enforcers to subdue the subjects.

Efforts accomplished through the Agricultural committee has seen improvement on the farmland of the Southwest. Crop harvest should see an increase of abundance by a minimum of fifteen percent within the next five years.

Date XX, XX, XX28

A miscalculation has been made by the Agricultural committee, the harvest has seen no noteworthy increase. The Southwestern Farmland has been deemed infertile. The economy has reached a state of stagnation but threatens to crash within the next few years.

Political tension has increased on the northern border over trade disagreement with Ignis. Chancellor Ellon has ordered a fall back on troops and abandonment of The Stacks Facilities to conserve military forces, weaponry, and ammunition, as well as government resources previously dedicated to the funding of T.S.E.I. One final mass execution will be made as an example of to the rest of stackers to discourage further protest.

New laws will be implemented in every Provincial Constitution to restrict stacker movement and remove their human rights so that they may never regain their place as part of the population.

Logan closed the file and sat forward in his chair, leaning his head over his hands as he stared off into the dark expanses of the room blankly, lost and confused. The fact that his predecessors could have possibly thought that the solution to all their problems was the genocide of their own people, it horrified him. The only reason it wasn’t still occurring was the ongoing Depression and the then unstable foreign political climate. If it wasn’t for that Patton would be dead.

He feared to bring this truth into the public. It could tear society apart to know that genocide had been taking place right in their own backyard. It hurt him to think of the face Patton would make when he realized what was meant to be his and their children's fate all along. But, if he kept the truth hidden, he would be disrespecting the hundreds of thousands to millions who had all died over the years in cruelty and vain.

Logan knew what he had to do next, he could only hope he and his country was strong enough to endure what would come afterward.

The first step he would take to start down that long and twisted road would be to uncover the names of all who had been executed and build a memorial site in their memory and honor, beginning with Patton’s parents.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Annalee asked, walking up behind him, shadowed by the weakness of the dim light.

“Yes…” Logan sighed, “I did.”

I don’t usually do these here, but I wanted to end this story with a thank you, to everyone who’s been with me on this journey. Doesn’t matter if you’ve been here since the beginning or if this is the first chapter you’re seeing. I gave a more in depth explanation on AO3, but this will be my last multi-chapter fic, though I may continue to write one-shots.

Thank you to everyone, this story’s been so fun to write, I hope’s it’s been fun to read.

Tag List:

@shaeshaetheravenclaw @scrapbookofsketches @scorching-scotch @a-fander-named-skittles @comicsimpson @ccecode @occasionally-pauciloquent @asiagotea3890 @i-am-not-anon @jadeace115 @overweightdepressedpanda @whizzie72 @emo-nithtmare @kittycake574 @luciferwasonceanarch-angel @ilovelogansanders @koalas-in-coffee @imabad-b-youcantkillme

#sanders sides #ts fic #sanders sides fic #my fic #the stacks #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #prinxiety #logicality #thomas sanders #emile picani

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themuzzleofnemesis · 5 years ago

Text

2-Memory of the Forest; Scene 8

The Muzzle of Nemesis, pages 71-81

Occasionally strange things would happen in this forest.

Any time I lost the path deep in the forest when I was young, I would be able to make my way home simply by walking along picking up acorns that had fallen in such a way as to indicate the path to me. Any time I fell from a tall tree branch, I would sometimes land in a pile of leaves, and so wouldn’t suffer any injuries.

I was able to settle on the idea that all of these were simple coincidences. But even so, on occasion I would almost get the feeling that the forest itself had a will of its own.

--And right now, that “will” was speaking directly to me in my house.

Through the doll from earlier that Mr. Ziz had scooped up.

<--You need to run out of this forest right now>

Rather than being surprised or scared, I asked the doll…or rather, the “will of the forest”, “Why do I need to run?”

If that was true, then these people were undoubtedly the police.

The S.S. Titanis sinking that had occurred six months before—They must have finally caught wind of the fact that I was responsible.

Kandi had said that he would apply pressure on the World Police so that they wouldn’t investigate. I had hoped that maybe that was possible, given he was a higher-up in the Freezis Conglomerate.

But suppressing it completely must have been difficult even for a Freezis.

“But…why are you trying to cover for me?”

Strictly speaking, I didn’t know who the “you” I was speaking to even was. I hadn’t asked, and they hadn’t made any effort to explain.

Even so, I had a hunch that I was talking to the “will of the forest” right then. Perhaps...This was the being that devotees of Held referred to as the “Great Land God”.

The “will of the forest” didn’t answer me, instead saying, <Keep this in mind. There are beings in this world that will try to protect you, that you cannot see. In this forest…and in the depths of the world.”

“…?”

“—Thank you.”

I quickly made preparations to leave the house.

There wasn’t a lot that I needed to take with me.

<…There is also one other thing I’ll tell you, while we’re talking>

The doll again spoke up to me as I was getting ready.

<If, in the course of your life—you ever run into a person by the name of “Lich”…Be extra cautious around him>

“’Lich’? Is he some bad guy?”

<I’m not so sure on that, but…What I am certain of is that he’s a being unlike those of this world. There is a lot that I can’t read into in his actions>

“Hmm…I don’t really understand, but alright. I’ll make sure to watch out.”

First thing’s first, I needed to get away from the clutches of the police.

I finished my preparations and dashed out of the house. I had considered for a moment that perhaps I ought to take that doll with me, but it wasn’t mine to start with. And the less I had to carry, the better.

I decided to sneak west, avoiding the established path. That was the fastest route out of the forest.

…Ah. What should I do about Mr. Ziz?

He was currently in that underground lake in the cave.

Though it’s hard to imagine the police would arrest an octopus…

Even so the fact remained that Mr. Ziz was the main actor in the sinking of the S.S. Titanis. It was a matter of what if.

I slightly altered my course and made my way towards the hermit cave before leaving the forest.

…That decision had been a bad one.

Before I arrived at the cave, I encountered the people chasing me.

They were—a dark-skinned man, and a woman with white hair.

They were both carrying guns.

“—There she is! The ‘Beastmaster’!” the man shouted.

Beastmaster—that was something of a nickname used among my friends. I had objected somewhat as I was really only able to summon Mr. Ziz, but it had a better ring to it than ‘Octopus master’ so I ultimately accepted it.

Contrary to my expectation, these two were not wearing World Police uniforms.

I briefly wondered if I should be thankful for that. There was a chance that they were remnants of Midas’ goons, or that Kandi had betrayed us.

Whatever the case, I had one option…And that was to find a way to escape from them somehow!

But—

…They’re fast!

I was pretty confident in my ability to play at chasing in this forest. I’d been living here since I was born.

However, the man aside…the white-haired woman was making her way towards me in defiance of all the trees lined up around us.

I couldn’t shake them very well. And on top of that, unlike them I wasn’t carrying any weapons on me. If I were to face them head on, there’s no way I would win.

A method I could use to oppose them—was the magical arts that Nikolay had taught me, but I couldn’t imagine it would do me much good in this situation. About the only thing I was really capable of doing was creating a lump of ice about the size of my thumb. I had to wonder what would even happen if I tossed it at them.

That just left…nothing other than calling on Mr. Ziz.

Fortunately the cave was right before me. I would be able to turn the tables of the situation as soon as I ran inside. Nikolay might have been there too, and I was sure he would help me.

“You can’t escape!”

The woman fired at me.

Despite the fact that we were in the forest, and both running at that, her aim was comparatively accurate, and the bullet whizzed past my head.

I forced myself to keep running despite my fear nearly seizing up my legs.

“Hey, Shiro, don’t kill her! We’re capturing her alive!”

“I know…She’s running into that cave!”

I sprinted into the cave’s entrance, listening to their voices from behind me.

The cave was a straight path that led to a dead end. Now that I’d gotten inside, it would be difficult to escape.

“Mr. Ziz!”

I called out my accomplice’s name as I ran. I was sure he could hear me.

I thought we would be able to join up immediately, but I couldn’t see him anywhere.

And as I ran I reached where the underground lake would be.

--It felt much colder than it had been before.

“Oh, Nemesis…What’s gotten you in such a state?”

Rather than Mr. Ziz, Nikolay appeared before me.

“Nikolay. Please, you have to hide me! I’m being chased!”

“…Ah, I see,” he replied, his voice calm. “Who’s chasing you?”

“I don’t know! Maybe the police, or—”

“Well then, I suppose we ought to go meet them.”

“No, don’t do that, just find me some place to hide—”

“There isn’t such a place in this cave.”

It was as Nikolay said. I hadn’t come here to hide in the first place.

“Mr. Ziz! Where are you!? If you’re sleeping, wake up!” I screamed at the lake.

…And then, finally, I realized that it was different.

“What in…”

It was only natural that Mr. Ziz didn’t show.

The water of the lake had completely frozen over.

It wasn��t winter right now. No, even if it had been in the middle of winter, I had never seen this lake frozen over like this.

--Someone had frozen it deliberately.

And…there was only one person I knew of who could do that.

“Nikolay, what have you—”

Before I could ask him, my pursuers showed themselves.

“There you are! In here, Bruno!”

First the woman walked towards me, gun in hand. And then the man came my way after her, also holding his gun.

…But the dark-skinned man seemed surprised to see not me, but rather Nikolay nearby.

“--!? You’re—”

“…Oh, my my. If it isn’t Bruno Zero. I haven’t seen you since Loki’s trial.”

It appeared that the two of them knew each other.

Nikolay carelessly walked up to them, showing no fear of the fact that they were armed. “You coming here like this must mean that PN is after her…or rather, Gallerian is.”

“Not quite. He’s not involved in this. PN conducted the investigation alone, and identified this ‘Beastmaster’ here as a suspect…To think, you were the mastermind behind this.”

Nikolay gave a half smile and shook his head at the man named Bruno’s words. “—Hey now, have you gotten mixed up on something? If you’re talking about what happened with the Titanis, I’m not involved.”

“Then why did this ‘Beastmaster’ run in here?”

“I dunno. Of course, we live in the same forest so I know her at least, but…it’s not like she and I are family or anything.”

…Huh?

What are you saying, Nikolay?

Certainly, what he said wasn’t a lie. He had no involvement with Midas or the S.S. Titanis, and he and I had no blood relation to each other. It was true that we were mere acquaintances.

But even so, I had thought that surely he would protect me.

“Nikolay…”

When I spoke up to him, he turned around.

His usual kind smile was nowhere to be seen.

“…Nemesis, if you have done something bad then you need to properly atone for it.”

“You can’t—”

“You see, I—once worked as a man who judged people’s sins. And so I can’t shield a criminal now.”

Listening off to the side, Bruno snorted and said, “Hmph, look who’s talking. Hanma…Weren’t you the one who did exactly the opposite of that, time and again in the past?”

“And that’s why I can’t now, Bruno. It’s been fifteen years since I quit my job at the Dark Star Bureau. Perhaps you don’t believe this, but during that time I’ve done my thinking, and I’ve changed.”

“…You’re still wanted by the World Police. For the crime of violating the ‘special law on witchcraft’.”

“Naturally. I know that. So then—are you going to arrest me too?”

“PN is not like the World Police. Our stance is contradictory to the special law on witchcraft in and of itself. …Besides, if you really are ‘Elluka’s apprentice’ as the World Police says—then we have no hope of being able to arrest you.”

“…Ha ha, how ironic. That you who have seen the existence of magic with your own eyes have been promoted to a position that denies its existence.”

Bruno pointed the gun at Nikolay. “—We’ll be taking in this ‘Beastmaster’ now. As long as you don’t interfere…we’ll leave you be.”

“I don’t mind, do as you like—While you’re here I’ll give you some information you might like.”

Nikolay took out a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Bruno.

“And this is?”

“A map that indicates Zeus’ hideout. She forgot it here earlier. This should help you in capturing the others, shouldn’t it?”

“…I appreciate the cooperation.”

That told me everything.

Before I had even run in here—Nikolay had already decided to sell us out.

And that was why he had frozen over the lake…If he was trapped within the ice, then Mr. Ziz couldn’t still be alive.

“You traitor!” I screamed at Nikolay—then tried to take advantage of the confusion to run towards the entrance to the cave.

--But my feet tangled up and I tumbled down.

“Ah!”

At some point my ancles had been encased in ice-shackles.

“Traitor…Hm. You’re wrong, Nemesis. It was—you who betrayed me first.”

“What are you…I don’t know what you mean.”

“I had though that as long as I could raise you right, I would always continue to protect you. But in the end, you caused such an awful tragedy…I guess you are her daughter after all.”

“Her…You mean my mother? What about my mother!?”

“She was a great one, your mother—but I cannot agree with her as the man I am now.” Nikolay glanced back at Bruno. “Go on, take her away.”

“…Yes.”

Bruno and the woman with him walked up to me and picked me up off the ground. And then, instead of ones of ice, they put real manacles on my wrists.

<<prev------directory------next>>

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ironspiidey · 5 years ago

Text

Good Intentions

Hey dudes, so my MH has been awful lately and I’ve been struggling with alot. @cagestark was there for me these past few days and helped me feel so so much better.

I cannot thank you enough for letting me rant and not making feel dumb so as a thanks my brain created this.

WIS work in progress

"Anthony Edward Stark!" Pepper growls as she walks into his lab.

Tony ignores her and keeps soldering the circuit board

"Don't ignore me! I've had just enough of you." Pepper stops in front of him, tapping her foot in irritation on the tile floor.

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it. "

"Tony."

"Okay if I did to it, it wasn't my fault. It was Rhodey's idea!"

"Don't bring my fiance into this. This is all your fault and your going to be fixing it. I was hoping without my help but at this rate your going to need me and Natalie and maybe even Bruce."

That made his eyebrows raise in curiosity " You and them? What the hell did I do?"

"This is what you did." Pepper tossed a StarkPad across the countertop.

Tony lifted his head and put down his tools as he pressed play on the video on screen.

"Brucie man I don’t know what to tell you. I’m a lone wolf and no cute, sweet omega will change that!" Tony took a drink of his scotch.

Bruce eyed him curiously for a moment "Not even your sweet, cute intern?"

Tony gave him a pointed look "I don't what it is about me and Peter but drop it. He's a kid. I’m supposed to be his mentor."

"Supposed to? So that means you DO have feelings for him. Nat owes me 20 bucks."

"You betted on this?"

"Not the point. So, you do have feelings for him?"

" That isn’t the point. Regardless of how I feel, even if I didn’t mentor him since he was 14, Peter does not need an old wore out superhero for a boyfriend."

"And now I owe Bucky 20. Tony, don't you think you should let Peter make his own mind up? He's not 14 anymore."

"No, you’re right. He isn't 14. He's 19. A college student. I only just convinced him to take his second year at MIT. If I say anything he's going to try and get back in NYU to be closer and the universe has done enough to stall and fuck with his future. Peter deserves the best and I sure as shit aint it." without another word, Tony downed what was left of his scotch and headed for the door.

"Tony you don't have to bolt out of the room."

"I do if you’re going to keep bringing up Peter because I'll be blue in the face until you get the fact it will never ever happen between us."

"I won’t say another word, just sit down."

Tony eyed him suspiciously

"What? Okay on one condition. You grab me a beer."

Tony rolled his eyes but walked over to the bar, pouring himself another then grabbing Bruce his beer. Just as he tossed it to the other man Natalie came storming into the living room.

"What the fuck Stark?!"

Pepper paused the video. "Get it now?"

Tony sighed "I don't know what you want from me Pep. You know as well as I do, I'm better off by myself."

"No. You’re afraid. Just like you were afraid of being happy with me. Then when you were afraid of being a father. Who helped you through that Tony?"

"Pepper..."

"Who was it Tony? Tell me."

"Peter okay!" Tony stormed off

"Don't you dare walk away from me!" Pepper followed him "When are you going to wake up Tony? You've changed and become more of the decent man I knew you could be and as much as I am loathe to admit it, that is because of Peter. You have a chance here, to finally be with someone that is your equal and you’re going to ruin it if you don't get your head out of your damn asshole!"

Tony swallowed. "I fucking know okay? but just because Peter is great for me doesn't mean I'm great for him."

Pepper sighed "If you didn't make him happy, he wouldn't have been crying on Bucky's shoulder for the past week. If you don't do something soon, he may just sweep Peter up himself."

At that Tony's head whips around and gave Pepper a pointed look. "Your bluffing."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Why would I bluff about that? Friday? Can you project the living room feed from last Tuesday, around early evening?"

"Of course."

A projection appears on the left wall facing Tony of the living room of the Avengers wings.

"Good god Bucky. I was so fucking dumb."

"Peter no, not even close." Bucky walks over to the window where the younger man was standing. "Stark will always be Stark and if he isn’t ready for commitment that has nothing to do with you."

"But you weren't there. You didn’t hear him. How casual he sounded."

"Not that I'm defending him, but he didn't know you were there, maybe just maybe he was putting up a front to Banner?"

Peter sniffed. "I don't think so, Bruce isn't like that. He was annoyed that he was being pestered about us and made it noticeably clear it would never happen. So instead of being a stupid lovesick teenager, I'm a stupid lovesick adult."

Bucky squeezed Peter's shoulder. "Don't talk like that. You're not stupid. He is. You’re a catch Peter and if he can't see that well that's his loss."

“I don’t see how any of this-“

"Show us 4 days ago same room, same time." Pepper cut him off.

"God now he's ignoring me Bucky!" Peter paced back and forth across the room

"Will you please sit down? your making me nauseous." Bucky gestured to the couch across from the chair he was currently in.

Peter sighed as he practically threw himself down on the couch. "Ignoring me. Bucky he never ever does that. "

"Tony ignores everybody at least once a week."

"But not me." Peter pointed out. "He found out I heard him. he must have." Peter's voice started to break the end.

"Pete c'mon that's probably a coincidence."

Peter glared at the super solider "Yeah because Tony would randomly ignore me for the first time in 4ish years days after I heard him say he would never ever be with me no matter what."

"Now your exaggerating. Peter you guys were literally snuggling last week during movie night. He wouldn’t do that if he wasn’t interested."

"Well clearly not interested enough."

"Okay. Ready for the next one?"She asked as the clip ended.

Tony rolled his eyes "Haven't you shown me enough? I get it. Peter is hurting but that doesn’t change a thing."

"Exactly my point, this last one though, with any luck will pull your head out of your ass. Ready?"

Tony looked at her in confusion. "Fine."

"Okay Friday, show us Movie Night, 7pm."

"Okay guys ready?" Steve asked, standing in front of the room scanning to make sure everyone was here.

"No, Peter and Tony aren’t here yet."

"Yeah well it was about time that Tony would start ditching again." Clint said as he grabbed some of Nat’s popcorn.

"I'll go find Peter, one sec." Nat handed Clint the bowl and headed down the hall. Returning a few minutes later with Peter trailing behind her, looking for a seat.

"Don’t even think about it Peter." Clint grinned, stretching out like a cat on the sofa which made Nat roll her eyes.

"I can move him if you want Peter." Nat said, leaning towards his legs.

Before Peter could respond, Bucky padded the cushion next to him on the loveseat "C'mon over Pete."

Peter smiled and nodded, "Thanks but I’ll just sit by Buck." Nat raised her eyebrow but said nothing.

"Okay we good? Can we start?" Steve asked, started the movie and quickly sitting down when no one objected.

Bucky laid his arm down on the back of the coach, whispering something in Peter's ear which made him giggle. Peter looked to the door for a few minutes before his shoulders sagged and he leaned into the other man as he got comfortable. Smacking his flesh arm and gave him a look at whatever Bucky had said, his voice lower than the movie.

Tony squinted at the feed even after it stopped. After 5 minutes of him being silent Pepper spoke up.

"So?"

"Tony?"

"Tony!!" Pepper practically shouted

He shook his head and turned to her. "Uh sorry what?"

"Did that perhaps hit a nerve?"

"Nerve? No. "

Pepper just looked at him for a few minutes, it was clear he needed a few moments to process what he just saw.

"They use nicknames now?"

Pepper rolled her eyes "That's what your taking out of this?"

"Bucky never called Peter by anything other than Little Spider or Parker... And what’s with Peter calling him Buck?"

"Well I think its best I just leave you to brainstorm why your love interest is calling Captain Americas ex-boyfriend nicknames." Her heels clicking as she crossed the room heading for the elevator.

"Wait Pepper. What was the point? how is this anything to do with me?"

Pepper turned from her spot in the doorway “Well if you didn't hide out in here and yes that’s exactly what you were doing. Peter would have been snuggled up to you instead of the super solider."

"That’s what he was looking at, he was disappointed I wasn’t there!" By the time Tony spoke again Pepper was long gone and he was left to his own devices.

"Fri?"

"Yes Boss?"

"Lock down the lab, we need to work that last video and amplify the sounds while lowering the volume of the surround sound. "

"Activating Do not Disturb protocol, Keep current exception list of Ms. Potts. Rhodey, Mr. Banner and Peter?"

Tony sighed. "Since when have you referred to him as Peter? Who added him to the exception list without my permission?"

"Would you rather i refer to him as Petey? Petey Pie or perhaps Spiderling?"

Tony chuckled. "Peter is fine. How did he end up on the exception list?"

"As per my programming sir. The algorithms showed you and Peter have an active role in each other’s lives, physically and online. It was only fitting to add him to the list. Should I remove him now that its changed?"

"Changed? " Tony questioned his AI

"Peter has not been in the lab or Avenger corridors at the same time as you in the last week, you haven't contacted each other online either. There seems to be lack of interacting in the last week. "

"Who is on Peter's exception list?"

" Ms. Widow, Ned Leeds, Bucky Barnes and yourself Sir."

"Ms. Widow?"

"As per Peter's instructions I was to refer to his contacts as Ms. Widow, Ned Leeds, Bucky Barnes and Tones."

Tony felt a smile creep up on his face at Peters chosen nickname. "No nickname for the super soldier?"

"Negative Boss. Shall Peter stay on your protocol?"

"Yeah but change Rhodey to Platypus and Peter to Petey Pie. It has a ring to it doesn't it?"

"It does sir, very fitting for him. Shall I alert to Ms. Potts You’ve made progress?"

"Don’t you dare. Now back to amplifying the sounds excluding the movie please?"

"Yes sir."

#winterstarker #wis in progress #wis #pre wis #pre starker #tony is an ass #peter is sad #bucky gives good hugs #good intentions #fic for cage #cage is queen #fucking love her #fanfic #wip #wis wip #my fanfic #ironspiidey writes

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r00en · 5 years ago

Text

Still Good Chapter 5

Calculated Competition

All Might / Reader, Slight Aizawa / Reader

Aizawa never did like All Might but he always kept things professional at the very least with the occasional cold behavior and rude attitude, but this might be pushing it.

(Listen, lemmy self indulge in two hot guys fighting over the same girl but in dumb slow burn ways okay!?

EDITED: For all the horrible mistakes, it was bugging me)

Absolutely nothing could ruin All Mights day today. He had woken up with a smile and carried it through is morning routine. Even humming a bit as he packed is boring lunch and snacks for the day and shoved a few rice crackers in his mouth while changing. Standing in front of the mirror he tried his best to adjust the lopsided tie that hung lose around his neck, fix the drooping shoulders of his pinstripe suit and make sure his belt was tight enough to keep his pants snug on his skinny hips. His cheeks burned slightly as he tried to smooth out his hair only to watch it spring back into place. Useless. Why was he suddenly so worried about how he looked? 'Because there are millions of other good looking, younger men out there for her to pick from....'

That may have been true but so far she had shown no issue with his current look at all. He wasn't dirty at the very least. He could take pride in that much. And his cloths had to be baggy otherwise they would rip right off him each time he powered up. He couldn't carry around different pairs of clothing each time he wanted to, waste time changing back and forth. This was practical. Still...he felt stupid suddenly worrying about this sort of thing so late in the game. Is that what it was like for young men every day? Was it going to be like this for him from now on? The thought had him sulking a bit until he mind kindly reminded him of the cute, sweet, young nurse waiting for him at the coffee shop. Even the creepiness of that thought couldn't keep the smile from his face. Glancing down at his phone he nearly had a heart attack. He was going to be late! He already missed the first train that would get him there early, and now the second that would drop him right on time.

"Holy, stinking, super crap!" He was out the door so fast he would have to apologies to his neighbors for slamming the door hard enough to rock the foundation. With a bit of steam and a loud pop he was sprinting over root tops like his feet were on fire.

Hiding out in a back ally way was his best option to power down. The last thing he needed was reporters following him to school just yet, even less catching him having breakfast with a fellow coworker. No one knew All Might was working at UA. Very few people knew he was in town to stay yet. Low profile was best so he deflated with the rest of the trash, standing awkwardly next to a butcher shops old meat scraps. Fitting. Once he was sure no one saw him sneak in here, nor anyone coming from either direction less he look creepy stalking out of the darkness. Cost was clear and the coffee shop was in sight. And if he squinted real hard he could see his target standing by a few out door tables looking at her phone with worry. This would be the second time he made her wait, a habit he was really hoping he could break soon. Picking up a light job he made his way over. "H-hey sorry I'm late....again. Got held up at the station-" As that beautiful, bubbly face turned to greet him it was over cast by a dark shadow like figure that loomed behind her should like a bad omen. Coming into clear focus as he stopped just short of the two.

"The number one can't even have the manners to show up on time...can't say I'm surprised...." That sullen, annoyed voice. That mess of pitch black hair. Those blood shot angry eyes.

"Ah, Aizawa....what are you..." She answered his question before he managed to mutter it out. Thankfully as Toshi couldn't keep his slightly annoyance from seeping out at his fellow teacher. "Ah, Mr. Aizawa saw me waiting here and came to say hello! He said it's on his way to work every morning isn't that funny?"

Both men started at each other for a moment. Toshi didn't like that smirk he was wearing but was far to polite to do more than cough into his fist. "Yeah? What a coincidence. I had no idea you lived around here." There it was again, that smirk just hidden behind his capture scarf. "Small world. I figured I would grab a cup of coffee with a fellow colleague since I'm here. Catch her up on what's going on from the teachers perspective. Would be nice if we were all on the same page. Less troublesome. But it seems you beat me too it...." That sounded logical and if it was coming from anyone else; Mic for instance Toshi would have brushed it off with a smile. But this felt wrong. Toshi never mentioned his friendship with the new nurse to anyone save for Young Midoriya who of course had no contact with the teacher at UA. He must have happened on her while heading to work like he said and she mentioned their meet up in casual conversation. Could he be planning something devious? A plan made up on the fly so quickly? Toshi knew he wasn't Aizawa's favorite person. He often made that more than clear during his past meetings. Something about the spotlight rubbed the sullen hero the wrong way and All Might was a spotlight in and of himself. But she didn't look any different even with Aizawa looming behind her like a dark cloud of distaste. She just smiled at him, readjusting her glasses waiting for him to fully join what now seemed to be a group date.

He could deal with this. It wasn't like he planned on confessing to her any time soon, surely not today. He just needed to keep telling himself that this wasn't a date. Who cares if Aizawa was there? He could still talk to her! Swallowing the lump in his throat Toshi spurred forward with a happy, friendly smile.

"Me and ____-chan here are excited to start the school year together...isn't that right?" Toshi watched in horror as Aizawa moved his hand from his pocket to rest it on her head. Rubbing softly like she was some kind of cat. The action seemed to fluster her beyond believe and she held her glowing cheeks with embarrassment. "W-well it's surely an exciting time. With it being my first year living in Japan and working at UA of all places I really hope I can handle it." He was grinning that creepy grin again. She couldn't see from her perspective, head tilted down as she shyly fiddled with her fingers. It was directed at him. Why?! "You'll do fine. You're Recovery Girls own granddaughter, that counts for something. UA is filled with exceptional teachers and staff and you'll be no different." It all sounded so friendly but his tone, it was off.... Since when did Shota Aizawa pep-talk anyone? Let alone in that cheerful voice. "I'll buy you a coffee this time. As a welcome to the school. You don't mind....right All Might?" His voice was dripping with venom and all Toshi could do was nod. "Y-yeah...no problem."

The three made it inside with little to no issue, though Aizawa insisted on keeping himself firmly wedged between the two of them like some odd chaperon. Tossing Toshi rather loaded looks as the ordered and Aizawa payed, though at least he could enjoy the cute way she tried to order her own drink but fumbled with the odd names of coffee she never needed to use before. Toshi turned his head to keep his fellow teacher from seeing the pleased look on his face. Something was up and he wouldn't give Aizawa any more reason to be suspicious. Taking their seats Toshi decided it was best not to put up a fight at all and slid himself across from the two willingly. This was far better for conversation anyway and would have been the arrangement regardless. Rubbing his temple he let out a sigh, he was over thinking things. Aizawa just disliked him and was using this as some odd excuse to make his day harder. That's all this was. It didn't make him feel any better but he couldn't shake the feeling he deserved a bit of this given the circumstances. He was going after someone nearly twice is junior. He was being creepy again...thinking about it like that.

Suddenly she was talking, as if Aizawa wasn't there which put a mildly annoyed look on his face that please Toshi greatly. "So I had some questions about the game show last night. They kept flashing your catch phrase 'I am here' but they kept putting cotton candy around it....is that some sort of inside joke? I don't get it." He grinned, this would surely cement their friendship outside of work and put Aizawa off his teasing. "It's not that complicated, you see if you write out the phrase it's only a few character off from 'It's Cotton Candy!' so from time to time people make the reference." He motioned the kanji in the air as if she could follow though she seems a little lost. "Mmm...we sort of have that in english but the differences in words are not so extreme. Read and read are two different words written the same way but they are close in context. Don't even get me started on 'their'...Present Mic is going to have his work cut out for him. Grandmother said I should try and help with some of the more advanced classes but if I'm honest I'm not really the student type. If I make a mistake teaching kids I'll ruin them for life! No way I can take that responsibility on!"

Toshi wanted to say something like 'You'll make a wonderful teacher' or 'Everything you do is great don't worry!' but Aizawa was glaring at him again and didn't stop even when the waiter brought them their coffee. His was a simple tea, Aizawa apparently liked his black though she had some sort of foaming latte type drink that looked to be more milk than coffee. Just as sweet as she was. "You watched TV together last night?" That cold, spine tingling voice cut through their otherwise cheery cloud of a conversation and both Toshi and her were sent cowering from the angry dark aura drifting it's way closer to them. "A-aha...Toshi stopped by to get some help with his injured side on his way home last night. It was my fault...I offered him dinner and it would have been rude for him to say no. We ended up just watching TV and talking through most of the night. He had to explain so many things to me on the programs that I think I kinda ruined some of them..." She was shyly pulling at the wrapper of her straw and smiling at him from behind the rim of her glasses. As if the memory was enjoyable even if it was so recent. Aizawa made a 'tsk' sound and slumped forward.

"Didn't know you two were already so friendly, already on to first names... Moving a bit fast aren't you All Might?" They both sat confused for a moment trying to determine their colleagues motives and attitude. Toshi knew him as always standoffish and moody but this was something else. Only the sound of a rather loud and rather peppy ring ton cut through the tension at the table like a chirping knife. Scrambling for her phone she took one glance at the screen and waved her hand at Aizawa "S-sorry I need to take this do you mind?" While he looked like he most certainly did mind he did the decent thing a stood, only enough that she was still forced to brush most of her body against him as she pulled herself from the booth and headed to the door. Both men staring each other down during the whole ordeal until the fellow teacher flopped down with a grunt. "Don't tell me you like them younger..."

Toshi felt like someone dumped ice water over his head. He sputtered out a bit of his tea and took the excuse to hide his face behind his napkin. "I-I'm sorry I don't think I follow you." That earned him a glare. "You're not stupid so don't act like it. She might think it's cute but I don't." Toshi sat up a little straighter, leveling his own glare at the dark haired man. "I couldn't care less what you do with your time or your title All Might, but going after another employee seems a bit close to home even for you. Couldn't you just pick up any of your fans? Keep your privet business off school property? It would be troublesome if it came down on the school or you started drama between coworkers...." Toshi clenched his fists in his lap. Aizawa was always blunt but this was bordering on rude. Still he wasn't really 'wrong'. Mislead, condescending and indecent but not wrong. The thoughts swirling around inside Toshi were confusing yes but they were also honest. He didn't choose to feel this way and truth be told he wasn't even sure what he was feeling. It was all so new for him in so many different ways and the confrontation about them so harshly put was jarring. But he knew how he felt, and he hoped he knew how she felt. Glancing outside he watched her happily chat away on her phone. Cupping her mouth and speaking softly as people walked by as to not be rude. Once she caught him staring she smiled and gave him a little wave and he was sure he saw her cheeks paint a light pink. That smile meant the world to him and he would be damned if anyone, even a 'friend' was going to take that away from him.

Turning back to a pissed off looking Aizawa he cleared his throat. "I'm not sure what you know...how much she told you but if you think my interest in her is indecent...." he would be right, the dream he had last night was the epitome of it "Not that it's any of your business," He added, taking a sip of his tea for good measure. "...we are friends above all else. I offered to help her during her time at UA and we both enjoy each others company. I can't help but wonder what it matters to you Aizawa, it's not like you to poke around in other peoples business." If Toshi didn't know any better he could have sworn he saw a blush flash across the sullen mans face. Ever so slightly hidden as he scrunched down and used his scarf as a shield. "She wouldn't shut up about you..." Aizawa muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets so he could lounge back against the booth. "The second she saw me she told me she was meeting you and she had this 'look'...she's my age All Might...." Now he sounded like a protective older brother and Toshi couldn't find it in him to be angry about that. "And you're the symbol of peace. Think about her...your spot light comes with risks and pressure. And I wasn't just blowing smoke about the schools image. If this goes down wrong-" Toshi held up a hand and surprisingly it stopped his little speech. "If that's your concern I can assure you both of us are consenting adults. Nothing has gone on between us that is any of your concern...but has been nothing more than friendly."

Aizawa gave him a look that spilled over into disbelief. The way they looked at each other was not just on friendly terms. Even with all his intrusive behavior, blunt conversation and general looming presence the two of them oozed a level of chemistry Aizawa had never seen before. At least not in person. It was kind of disgusting to watch the great All Might all glassy eyed and smitten even in his weak state. And she was no better. It was easy to fluster her truth be told. He learned that the first day they met when he stood a bit too close to her and glared down at her trying to give off his 'just leave me alone' attitude without words. She all but hid behind her clip board and shuffled behind her tiny grandma for support. The great Paladin who could take a beating better than any pro hero on the market was out done by personal space and eye contact. Though he was loathed to admit it these two idiots were made for each other. She also had a pension for sticking her nose in other peoples emotional business, and from the way All Might carried himself the man needed a good scream cry or two.

Giving a shrug as if he was indifferent to his words Aizawa stood from his spot and started to lumber away. "I won't make this easy for you All Might. You haven't needed to fight for anything in a while...so call it a strategical test of will." His eyes wild and blown wide as he stared back at the number one hero, all teeth and unease. "You'll have to fight for it like the rest of us." And with that cryptic message he was off and out the door. She stopped him as he tried to sneak away and earned herself another head pat but it seemed like little else as Toshi watched his fellow teacher stalk off to towards the school. What the hell was that suppose to mean 'fight for it'? Wasn't that what he was already doing. Losing sleep and suffering though what he could only assume was cardiac arrest each time he had to so much as talk to her? It had only been a day since he even admitted his own feelings to himself and already he apparently had some twisted rivalry with a fellow teacher. Did that mean Aizawa had feeling for the new nurse too? Did they spend time together outside of work as well? Too many thoughts buzzed around inside his head and he downed his cooling tea in one gulp out of frustration.

"Sorry about that! Grandma needed some information on the applying student files I organized the other day. I messed up and forgot that here you guys use last names more often than first...." she was flustered but otherwise seemed normal. Sliding back into her seat but this time directly across from him. "My first real day as a nurse and it will be a seriously dangerous entrance exam. Talk about stressful. And speaking of what was up with Mr. Aizawa? He normally acts like he can't stand to be around me....strange change, maybe he fell out of bed this morning and hit his head..." the image was enough to make them both chuckle.

Toshi carefully, and oh so slowly reached out and brushed his fingers across her hand that was resting on the table. "Don't worry about either of them. You'll do great, you're more than qualified and your put your heart in everything you do. I'm sure those kids will be in good hands. Besides the entrance exam wasn't too bad for me when I started out." She suddenly had this funny look on her face. Puffy cheeks and glittering eyes. "Oh geez I wonder what a young Toshi looked like back then. I bet you were super tall right? Like much taller than your classmates?" she teased and it caused him to blush as it always did. "Something like that. I didn't look like this I can tell you that much...." "Ohh like a meat head? You know all buff and strong like your hero form?" She tried to pose and flex her arm a bit and it worked in getting him to laugh along with her. "Nothing like that...I'll see if I can dig up some old pictures. Young Midoriya would love that I'm sure...."

With that they both lulled into a quiet conversation about Midoriya's training, her own work with Recovery Girl, the day ahead filled with filing papers and filling out forums. Anything and everything. And as they spoke they leaned closer and closer to each other until to the outside world it looked far more like a date than either of them intended. Their hands still brushed close on the table.

#All Might/Reader #all might #all might x reader #Toshinori Yagi #toshinori x reader #fanfiction #MHA #my hero acadamy

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