#the actual cover will go up prolly in the next few days once I sit with it a bit longer!

[shinesurge]

NOTHING IN ALL CREATION IS HIDDEN FROM GOD'S SIGHT

[daydream-believin]

The Never Ending Roadtrip (tie the knot)

summary: (part 1) / (part 8)  fem!reader joins Douxie on his quest for Nari’s safety, he’ll need company wont he? PART 7) two weddings in one day for our lovely wizard couple.

warning: swearing, maybe? prolly tho, alcohol, the us government

word count: 3149

a/n: the target audience here is def me. ahahjdd i hurt myself writing this, bon appetit

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Y/n let her eyes wander through the strange place. She supposed this was a pawn shop of sorts, but not one a mortal would patron. Or even know about. She wasn’t entirely sure how she got there herself. This was technically a basement. Grungy, yet somehow fancy? There was sand on the floor, and a giant floor to ceiling glass pane that made up an entire wall, letting patrons know they were in the bottom of the river Cohansey. Which would be beautiful, had this not been New Jersey. The water was murky, trash floating by with the occasional fish. Big, slimy green fish that looked like they could swallow an old lady’s chihuahua. Or maybe a toddler. There were shelves and shelves of either the shittiest junk you ever saw or things that looked like they belonged in an Egyptian tomb. Best not to touch anything. Y/n couldn’t clearly remember the entrance to this place, or entering, but that must have been a part of the concealment magic in place.

Douxie wasn’t kidding when he said they’d sign the papers tomorrow. He found himself acting fast, in case she changed her mind. She wouldn’t, of course. But just in case. While it would seem rushed to any outsiders, it didn’t feel so to him. Might as well have taken an eternity. A millennium. He had known her for years, was her best friend for years, he knew everything about her. She knew everything about him. It became much more apparent when suddenly she had the skill to do nothing but look at him and know something was amiss. Despite his best poker face he’d developed over the centuries, capable of fooling even the most observant of company. Not her. He had hoped she felt as strongly towards him as he her. He still had his insecurities and doubts, even if these rings could prove it.

He paid no mind to the big slimy green fish that flashed their large teeth to patrons. Douxie dug through the box of loose rings, looking for something specific, surely. Different enchantments, different curses, different styles, he needed to find the perfect pair. The sound of metal clattering was starting to become grating to the other patrons of the pawn shop. It was way too early for such clanging. Sure, it was afternoon, but still. Douxie had already found one for him, he just needed to dig around a little bit longer to find one for Y/n. He had already found several that could work, a bronze one shaped like tree branches around an emerald stone, a dainty silver braided band to bind, and an amethyst solitaire with calming qualities. None of these were right. Perhaps settling wouldn- Eureka, there it was. A nice gold band, the mate to the silver toned one for him, engraved with the matching runes, protection for them as they were together.

Douxie happily purchased the rings from the man behind the glass counter, to the relief of the other patrons. He found Y/n locked in a staring contest with one of those toothy fish. He pulled her away, assuring her that Fish don’t have eyelids, Love. Strange, she could have sworn that one did. He opened his palm, showing her the rings. She squealed, to the annoyance of the other patrons. They needed to get out of her before someone kicked them out.

They didn’t have to spend anything on dress/tux rentals, all thanks to Hisirdoux brand magic clothes. Y/n did manage to squeeze Archie into a little bowtie, much to the dragon-cat’s dismay. Y/n made sure to get a snapshot of it for archie_the_emo_kitty. Unlike Archibald, Nari was more than willing to boast formal wear. With all those wedding dresses she’d looked at with Y/n in mind, she begged Douxie to give her a little poufy green dress. Doux snuck in some smoky quartz as beading. Just a little extra protection never hurts. She was a very happy forest child, and spent a lot of time spinning around and around, fascinated by how the fabric flounced. She was very eager to do her part once Y/n explained to her what a flower girl was. Nari was going to be the best girl of flowers. Flowers grew from her hair.

The bowtie wrestled around Archie’s little neck matched the one around Douxie’s. Archie was technically the best man, of course. Some might think having a cat as your best man a bit sad, but there was no truer friend than Archie. And while Archie made them believe he was disgruntled at his state, this was only to preserve his pride. He would do anything if to make his brother, his familiar, smile. Even wearing a stupid blue bowtie and standing next to him during some sort of ceremony. Archie had to admit, he was surprised. Well, not surprised about them marrying, just that it was happening so soon. He knew his wizard’s heart could get ahead of him sometimes, so what was really surprising was learning that miss L/n proposed it. Perhaps those two were more alike than he knew.

Douxie looked really good in his suit, Y/n thought. Of course, anyone looks good in one, but Douxie looked extra good. Very handsome. It wasn’t a tuxedo, but he still opted for black with a little blue embroidery, and of course the blue bowtie. Very classic Douxie. Y/n wouldn’t have it any other way. He tried slicking back his hair but Y/n stopped him. No need to hide that perfect fringe, thank you. She braided a few of the strands down the side of it but not enough to obstruct it. There, that was good enough. Different but still the classic Douxie look. He laughed as she fussed with it. Some wildflowers he and Y/n picked earlier that morning were pinned to his lapel.

Y/n held a bunch of the same wildflowers in her hands. Not exactly a bouquet, but enough. She and Doux had woven some of them into crowns for each other to wear, respectively, for the day. It was a trollish tradition she thought was adorable. Picking the flowers together, weaving them into headpieces for the other to wear, a sort of unity thing. How beautiful.

Y/n actually made her own dress without Douxie’s help, as seeing the bride in her dress before the wedding was bad luck, after all. Douxie had taught her the spell, and she had been practicing an awful lot. It wasn’t perfect, but it did turn out to be exactly what she wanted. Y/n ran her hands down her sides, Not too frilly, not too sexy. Soft, sweet and romantic. And her. It looked like her. She hoped Doux would like it. He did.

She left her hair down. Douxie had made a comment once, way back when, that he thought it looked beautiful loose. She hadn’t meant for him to see it then. Douxie liking it was hard for fathom, considering her aunt had drilled into her head that loose hair was for loose minds, silly people not to be taken seriously. One’s hair should only be down when bathing or changing, especially not around others. In a way, leaving her hair loose like this was an expression of intimacy.

While they went to sign the papers officially in the eyes of the US government, the real wedding was out in the forest, with the trolls. Still, they figured they should tie their legal identities together, it’s not like a troll can actually officiate. Despite their legal identities being temporary and they would definitely have to forge new documents in half a century, they needed this for taxes and all that jazz. Y/n was going to make Douxie combine their bank accounts eventually. An efficient end to their ‘no, let me pay’ fights. But now wasn’t the time for finances. This was about love. And despite this not being the real wedding, Y/n still felt giddy.

The air in the courthouse smelled like dust and tobacco, and it felt like vague memories of confusion and bureaucracy. Strange memories, yet somehow nostalgic. At first the employees weren’t going to let Archie into the building, but once Douxie picked him up and showed him off, explaining that he was the best man, they couldn’t help but let him and his little bowtie in. That’s the thing about being cute, you often get away with murder.

Standing in front of the judge was daunting, even though Douxie knew he did nothing wrong. This time. He was just here to sign that marriage license. What a wonderful piece of paper, covered in calligraphy, stating that he legally belonged to Y/n and Y/n legally belonged to him. Such a fragile thing, in his hands. He would preserve it. Save it for centuries. The witness was a stranger, but that didn’t matter. Archie was the real witness, but alas cats have no power in court. Y/n blushed under Douxie’s gaze as they signed their names to the document. She looked ethereal in that dress, with the flowers in her hair. Even thought they were in a stuffy courtroom with people paying for traffic tickets, she was a goddess, standing here next to him, signing her soul to him. He would return the gesture with his whole chest. And he did.

They slipped the rings onto each other’s fingers, and it was done. Douxie looked back into Y/n’s eyes. His wife’s eyes. His heart may have stopped with that thought. His wife’s eyes.

Y/n was vibrating with energy as they left the courthouse. It was infectious, and soon Douxie was bouncing on his toes too. They couldn’t help but keep smiling. This was just the beginning. Time for the ceremony. Well, at least neither of them had to worry about cold feet. Y/n squeezed Douxie’s hand three times as they set off for the forest. He returned the gesture, kissing the top of her head for good measure.

Once they arrived at the shaded area the trolls had gathered in, Y/n sucked in a breath. It was just, so lovely. They were sitting in a circle, the center being where the wedding couple were to stand. Wildflowers decorated the ground. Nari had made sure they were arranged nicely. While Y/n didn’t know all of these trolls, she was delighted that most of her old pals were here. A few weren’t, but only because they hadn’t made it through the eternal night a few months ago. Surely their spirits were here. The atmosphere felt too much like love and support for them to not be. One of the trolls was strumming a lute of some sort. There was a baby troll who looked like they must have been carried here while they were napping and was now bewildered as to what was going on. Douxie may not know many of the trolls himself, but their presence felt right. And it made Y/n happy. A perfectly good reason for anything nowadays.

Y/n hooked her arm through Douxie’s as he led her to the center of the circle. The gentle lute music played as they kneeled, ready to begin. The music stopped and the officiant started. The officiant was an older troll, who could’ve rivaled Vendel in terms of ancientness. Neither Douxie nor Y/n payed him much attention, locked in each other’s gazes as he read off the sacred trollish wedding texts. A breeze blew through, blowing their hair, and a strand stayed in Y/n’s eyes even after it stopped. Douxie gently brushed it away, and was so caught up in the tender action he almost missed the officiant ask him to join his hand with Y/n’s.

“We are gathered here to witness the binding of two souls. Do you, Hisirdoux Casperan, and you, Y/n L/n, come here of your own free will, to be bound to each other in life and love for the rest of eternity?”

“Aye” Douxie and Y/n offered in unison.

“Then it shall be done.” The officiant tied the handfasting ribbon around their joined hands. A golden light shone through the ribbon, a little bit of magic.

Douxie placed his free hand under Y/n’s jaw. “You are the blood of my blood and the bone of my bone. I give you my body, and I give you my spirit. May you always drink from my cup. May I always be by your side through life and though that which comes after.” I will protect you always My Love.

Y/n was somehow able to catch her breath long enough to repeat the words back to him. “You are the blood of my blood and the bone of my bone. I give you my body, and I give you my spirit. May you always drink from my cup. May I always be by your side through life and though that which comes after.” You’ll never be lonely again Dewdrop.

“May the union now be sealed” Douxie and Y/n took this as a ‘you may now kiss the bride’ as trolls don’t kiss. Y/n was pretty sure trolls touched foreheads instead, as she’d seen Blinky and Arrgh do that often. She did as such to Douxie before kissing him. It slightly confused him, but he still recognized the affection.

There was no one there but them. Douxie deepened the kiss, melting into his beloved, his wife. Y/n matched it with fervor, but pulled away just as fast, almost making him whine. He opened his eyes, getting ready to pout, but was knocked back into remembering where he was. Oh, yeah, there actually were other people. His bad.

As the sun went down and the reception started, many trolls said many things and yet Douxie had no idea what was being said. He found it very hard to focus on anything that was not Y/n in this moment. A celebration was being had, yet the only important thing was the hand clasped in his and the cool feeling of metal he would soon get used to. He couldn’t wait to get used to it, as if it were nothing but a part of his skin. He could vaguely make out what song the lute troll was currently playing, one that reminded him of his younger years, and boy, did he feel young next to Y/n.

He led her into a dance, as this was a song perfect for dancing, of course. Y/n laughed. She hadn’t expected their first dance to start so soon. The light of the setting sun cast an orange glow as they flitted around joyously. At the end of the song, Douxie lifted Y/n and spun her around. A few nearby trolls, already drunk on bright green grog, raised their mugs and gave a cheer. A toast, one supposes. Y/n giggled at how quickly Douxie put her down after that, face flushed.

The red, orange, and yellow leaves of the trees around them seemed to be amplified by the sunset. It was one of the most beautiful things Y/n had seen, and perfect ambience for the best day of her life. The sound of the lute songs, birds chirping, and trolls chattering was the sound track. She’d play it on repeat if she could. She could feel Douxie’s shoulder brushing hers, and smell the comforting scent of cloves that clung to him. With every peck she could taste the red wine on his lips.

Now that the sun had gone down, magic candles were lit throughout, lighting the festivities. The trolls took this as the signal to bring out the food and start the feast. And feast they did. Nari was very interested in their food, and while Y/n wasn’t very positive she should let the veggie lady eat half of whatever this stuff was, Y/n didn’t care to police her this day. Nari can suffer the consequences of her curiosity for once. Y/n was too busy being wrapped up in Doux.

There was a very tall cake, resting on a flat rock. Must be one of Jim’s recipes he taught them while he was with them. Or it was a traditional troll recipe. No matter, wizard digestive systems are pretty strong and stranger things had been eaten. It was decorated beautifully, with the wildflowers and florets of what was either icing or plaster. Either way it would be delicious, whether it be made with flour and spices or gypsum and cat blood. Whatever it was, it smelled heavenly as Y/n smashed it into Douxie’s pretty face.

He should have been expecting that. He had hoped she’d be sweet and gently feed him but he supposed the temptation was too great for his mischievous bride. A cheshire cat grin replaced his adoring expression as he grabbed a glob himself and smeared it across her features in retaliation. Y/n burst out laughing, grabbing him by the collar to kiss him and get them even more messy. Douxie’s lips tasted sweet, so it must be one of Jim’s icing recipes. Archie was glad he over by the rock and not next to them, in the splatter zone.

The dancing lasted all night. The candles, the full moon, and the stars cast a romantic glow to the celebration. The full moon was the perfect moon, a blessing for their big day. Douxie was very thankful for lute troll, this is exactly what he pictured his wedding sounding like when he was a boy. He twirled Y/n around effortlessly and endlessly, he wasn’t sure he’d ever tire of this. Her soft hands in his, he absolutely knew he’d never tire of. The trolls taught them a few of their traditional dances too, Y/n seemed to really have fun with those. At one point, Y/n danced with Nari, a cheerful little ditty, and Douxie thought it was the new most adorable thing he’s ever seen. It was cuteness overload, he may have to go sit down for a bit and let his heart catch up with him. However, It wasn’t long before Y/n pulled him back onto the dance floor once again.

After the feast was devoured, conversation lulled, and the music faded, the trolls packed up and headed back to trollmarket. The light of the candles was getting dim. Still, Douxie and Y/n stayed, swaying in each other’s arms. The music may have left, but they didn’t need it. They hummed to each other as Douxie leaned over to Y/n’s ear, to sing her a song he had written for her, not too long ago. She could feel his breath on the shell of her ear as he whispered the words meant just for her. Y/n let her eyes slip closed as this man, her husband, sang his heart to her in this private moment. She wished she had a poem prepared for him. Sure, she’d written plenty, but none of the words seemed quite strong enough anymore.

[pixie-circle-au]

Chapter One: New Home, New Friends, and Lots of Boxes To Unpack.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four (Coming Soon)

Content Warnings: Food [DM or send an ask for something to be tagged]

Words: 2037

Editors: Aqua (@duckswithbucks)

Taglist: @fandom-nerd-girl555 @justmeandmygayships

Notes: Here’s the first chapter! My goal is to upload once a week, but I’m not sure how that’ll go.

The young pixie stared up at the house, a bright smile on his face. His parents stood beside him, similar smiles on their faces. The family was glowing with excitement for their new life in Brookside— a new life free of the disapproval and fear that had chased them in Worshire.

“Patton, can you help your father with the boxes?” The feral pixie nodded, heading to the truck that carried the last of their possessions. The big furniture had been moved last week, so now it was just… everything else. The family was definitely going to be spending the day moving boxes. It wasn’t ideal, but they could explore the town once there were actually sheets on the beds.

By midday, all the essentials were done. Dinner was in the fridge, ready to be eaten. Patton and his father, Geoni, were sitting at the table, reviewing their packing lists, and crossing off boxes. Patton’s mother, Julia, was pacing around anxiously, checking her phone every few minutes.

“Mom, what’s bugging you now?”

“Oh! Dear,” she laid a hand on her son’s shoulder, “Patton, and Geo, dear, I’ve been talking with the family next door— they’re quite a lovely family—and I wanted to ask: would you be alright with them coming for dinner?”

Patton shrugged, “I don’t mind.”

“I see no problem with it,” said Geoni matter-of-factly, “It’s the fae one, yes?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Ah, then I’d love to meet them! Tell them we’ll make sure to have a lovely dinner prepared, I’ll make stew. They aren’t feral, are they?” Julia shook her head and began to type on her phone.

“Well, it’ll be nice to meet the neighbors. If you don’t mind, I have to deal with some personal items, call me if you need me.” Geoni nodded, rising from his chair to his full height. 

“Come down in half an hour, will you? I’ll need some help with the stew.” Patton nodded before grabbing a box with his name and rushing upstairs.

Patton had already spent a lot of time in this room, deciding where everything would go. Still it seemed foreign. Already the dresser, bed, and a side table had been put in, but other than that, it was bland and empty. The walls had at least been painted a sky blue, the pixie’s favorite color. 

He set to work putting up pictures of memories, posters of shows he watched, and decorating with nostalgic pieces of art and trophies he’d won as a child in various competitions. He managed to get through a good part of the box before his father called him down to help with the stew. 

It was a pretty simple recipe, but it always got a ton of compliments. Geoni was an excellent chef, and was almost always in charge of cooking when there were guests. Patton didn’t share his father’s talents, but he could at least do things like chop onions and pass spices without messing up.

Pretty soon the table was ready with a steaming pot of stew in the middle, and just in time, as the doorbell rang. 

“Patton, can you get that?” Said Geoni, who was putting ice in the glasses. The feral pixie nodded, rushing to the door. He opened it with a smile. 

“Hello!” The family at the door was dressed in fine, dark clothing. Each with a yellow emblem of two snakes circling each other on their chest. There was a tall, serious man, a young-looking woman, who wore a warm smile, and a teenager with messy, shoulder length red hair. They all wore dark hats. 

“Hello,” the man stepped forward, and Patton could see well trimmed red hair peek out from his hat, he extended a hand covered in a black glove to Patton, and the feral pixie took it.

“I’m Patton, Patton Talisman. It’s a pleasure to meet you, why don’t you come in?” The pixie stopped back, making way for the family to stroll in. Once they were all inside, Patton shut the door.

“I’m Ilani Sepentes, or Charity. This is my husband Hanson, or Disguise. And my son, Janus, or Deceit.” said the woman.

“Oh, ha, I’m Morality. I’m not quite used to using my fae name.”

“Ah yes, not every circle uses it quite that often.”

“Why don’t you come sit down, dinner’s already made.”

“Ah! Janus, be a dear and grab the pie from the car, I nearly forgot.” 

The young fae nodded and rushed out to the car, coming back a few moments later as the parents were setting down to the table. 

“Oh,” Julia took the pie, “How lovely, I’ll put it on the counter.”

“It was the least we could do to welcome you to our town. My son made it though, so thank him.”

“Ah, yes.” Julia stepped forward, “Janus, was it?”

“Yes.” He smiled, extending a gloved hand. Patton noticed that the son’s gloves were yellow, rather than the black of the mother and father. 

“Thank you so much, why don’t you all take a seat.”

The meal started in awkward silence. The Talisman family was shy of the Sepentes [AN: it’s pronounced sep-ENT-ess], and didn’t really know how to start the conversation. Thankfully, Ilani spoke first. 

“Me and my husband, if you haven’t heard already, are the leaders of the circle. If you didn’t live next door we’d probably be here anyway.”

Julia dabbed at her mouth with a napkin before speaking. “It’s lovely to meet you, then. I was considering asking about the leader anyway.” She paused, for a moment, apparently concentrating hard. “I probably should have figured that out, as you know, this is the Sepentes… pixie… circle.”

Ilani laughed. “Yes, our family has been running this circle for centuries now.”

“Say, do you host monthly meetings?” Asked Geoni, wiping the blood of his food from his hands. 

“We host them the first and second Monday of the month at nine at night.”

“Well then, me and my son will have to show up!” Said Patton’s father with a smile.

“What, you’re wife’s not up to it?” Said Hanson snidely.

“Dear! Be respectful.” She sighed. “My husband was not raised in a welcoming circle so… he can be rude about things.”

Julia nodded. “Well, at least you aren’t going to ban my husband and son from attending pixie circle and basically threatening to kill me if Geoni doesn’t get a divorce and kill his son.”

“Oh god, did that happen?” Ilani’s mouth hung open.

“More or less. It’s why we moved, that and the manics.” She gestured to Patton, who gave an awkward wave.

Ilani nodded understandingly. Hanson huffed, and grudgingly said “My apologies, ma’am.” 

The rest of the dinner went well, most with Ilani, Geoni, and Julia chatting happily, talking about Brookside and the Talisman’s experiences in Worshire. Patton made the occasional remark, but stayed mostly quiet, casting glances at Janus and his imposing father.

“What grade are you in?” Asked the son softly, turning towards Patton. The cat pixie looked up, and turned towards the other as well.

“I’m a freshman, I’m transferring into the high school mid year,” he paused, “I’m a little nervous to be honest.”

Janus smiled, “Nothing to be worried about. I’m a freshman too, and I have friends in freshman year. There’s Virgil--he’s a shadow elf-- and Remus, he’s human.”

“You're really friends with humans?”

“I’d figure you’d get it, you know, since your mom is one.”

“Ha, yeah, I guess. I’ve just always been told not to be friends with humans, in case they find you, you know.”

“That’s fair I guess. Human or not, do you want to meet them? It’d be nice to start off your life in a new town with some friends.”

“Yeah, I guess that's good.”

“Cool, you can hang out with us sometime before school starts maybe?”

“Sure.” Patton smiled. He was nervous, as he didn’t really have friends in his old town. The life of a fae with a human parent, I guess. After everyone had eaten, Patton was charged with cleaning up and bringing out the pie. The jovial chatter between the three adults continued, with Hanson even jumping in a bit. 

“Is everyone done with dessert?” asked Julia.

Positive murmurs rose around the table.

“Alright. Patton, why don’t you talk with Janus and clean up? The adults want to talk in the living room.” The feral pixie nodded as the four adults headed into the sparse living room, which had yet to be decorated.

“So what do you do here in Brookside?” Said Patton, gathering the dishes. Janus stood, picking up the rest of the pie.

“Oh, you know. The woods are pretty fun to walk around in. There’s a couple of ice cream shops. Me and the boys go roller skating once a month.”

“‘You and the boys’?” Patton chuckled.

“Yeah, ha. I’m friends with Remus and Virgil, but those two also bring along Roman and sometimes Logan, although I think they just feel bad for Logan.”

Patton smiled. “What are Remus and Virgil like?”

“Well you’ll meet them,” Janus pulled some ceran wrap out of the cupboard and began wrapping up the pie, “But I guess I should warn you. Virgil is nice, but he’s really anxious and shy, it’ll take you a bit to get close to him. When you first meet him though, and he doesn’t say a single word and just mopes in the corner, well, he looks like he’s ready to shoot you dead. Heh, he prolly could. Remus is… the exact opposite. He’s got this gorgeous face, I mean like gorgeous. He looks all sweet and kind and… he is nothing like that, lord. He’s got a very… wild imagination.”

“How long have you all known each other?”

“Well me and Virgil have been friends for a few years, seeing as we’re both fae, but Remus we met freshman year.”

Patton began wiping down the table, “So, your parents run the circle. What’s that like?”

Janus paused, seemingly thinking. “It’s alright I guess. It does mean I have to go to every single god damn meeting.”

“Language!”

Janus smiled, “Wow, what vulgar language I just used, oh golly,” he snickered, “Sorry, I’ll try not to curse.” 

Patton smiled satisfactorily. 

“But yeah, it’s not much except for the professional stuff. And I mean, if my older sister doesn’t take over, I’ll have to run it. I’m gonna have some place in leadership either way, but at least if she takes over I won’t be full time. She’s a lot more suited anyway. And I mean it’s not like my parents are close to retirement any-- sorry for rambling, ha.”

“It’s alright,” Patton smiled. “Wanna go upstairs? I think we’re bugging the adults.” 

“Sure.”

The two headed up the stairs into Patton’s room, still only partially decorated. Janus looked around, smiling at the decorations already up. “I’m almost done with this room, just have a bit more to do.” The feral pixie placed the box on his bed, and Janus took a seat.

“This…” Patton pulled out a poster, “Is my favorite band. They aren’t together anymore but, I still like them. You can find their music on the web though.” The poster had a painting of a wolf on it and said ‘Timber at Dawn’.

“Wow, that’s nice.”

“Yeah, I have CDs of three of their albums, and records of all of them. My record player broke though.” The feral pixie took the records and stashed them before preparing to hand the poster.

“I have a record player, you can come to my house sometime and we can listen to them.” 

“Really?” Patton smiled excitedly. It’d been nearly a year since he’d been able to listen to those albums.

“Yeah.”

The two spent the next hour chatting while Patton decorated his room. They talked about music, and clothing, and a dozen other meaningless things. They barely noticed any time had passed before Hanson was calling Janus to come down to leave. 

“I’ll walk you out, but uh, do you want my number.”

“I would have forgotten. Trade numbers?”

The two entered their numbers into the other’s phones before rushing down the stairs. The group exchanged goodbyes, and soon the house was quiet again. Patton slept well last night, excited for a new life in Brookside.

[shauds-archived]

Impulse + Talia?

Was going to do Ras and Talia thing, but it wasn’t working out so I fell back on Talia and Jason, and it got a little long. Thanks for your request! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Talia al Ghul finds a boy stealing the Batmobile’s tires, she leaves him, trusting that Bruce will handle it. Then she finds the boy escaping from his school. Why she didn’t leave him there too, she’ll chalk up to impulse.

Or, the one where Talia kind of adopts Jason before Bruce.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, she’ll chalk it up to impulse. Both her spontaneous visit to the City of Gotham, and the events that had transpired thereafter.

Meeting with the detective hadn’t been her plan, she’d just mean to check in, after troubling news that his partner had been killed and Richard outside of the public sphere for the time being. That the visit fell on the anniversary of his parent’s death was just happenstance. That she came across the car, the Batmobile as named by that insufferable boy, before she came across The Batman himself, even more so.

Bruce isn’t there, and she would leave it, continue her search for him elsewhere, if not for the fact that someone else is. At first she thinks it might been his Robin, but the child is much, much too small. And she very much doubts Richard was young enough still for such childish pranks.

It doesn’t take more than a glance at the child’s worn clothing, too slight build and cautious, hyper vigilant disposition for her to determine that he is either an urchin, or one of those for whom living care-givers make very little difference.

Already, one of the tires is missing, and as Talia, watches, too baffled by the sight to end it, he makes short work of the second. She waits for the security systems to engage, for Bruce to appear and halt the boy’s progress. Neither happens and the little vandal makes off with a second tire. And has the gall to come back for a third minutes later, twirling his tire iron and partly skipping as though he isn’t in the process of attempting to rob one of the most powerful men alive, like he isn’t coming back instead of settling with what he has already taken.

She’s acting on an impulse when she follows him, curious about where he thinks he can hide his prize’s from the bat, and then, about whether the small child will be able to get the tire up the fire escape and just how someone that young has learned such a diverse variety of vulgar language.

Small, but cleaner than she’d imagined it to be. There are poster’s covering over the larger stains marring the walls, the hovel’s only furnishings are a shelf piled with the tatters of what had once been books, the likes of Tolstoy and Kafka sitting innocuously besides children’s books, some pages written by hand, a small collection of audio tapes, and a framed photograph of a woman that Talia lifts for better inspection. It’s old, and the young woman bares the boy little to no resemblance. Merely a decoration perhaps and the worn smooth edges of the frame are from age.

When the boy returns, it’s sans a fourth tire, straining for breath and with the Batman following covertly at his heels. The child doesn’t see her exit, but she knows Batman does. He’s too busy fending off an attack by the child demanding he leave to come after her, and Talia can’t help but chuckle at the tenacity of the small boy right up until he’s effortlessly lifted up by his arm, any threat he’d posed nullified.

Hopeless though the fight is, there are many in the League of Shadows who could learn from that sort of persistence. If all of Gotham’s children possess that fighting spirit, perhaps there’s more to Bruce’s insistence on continuing to give his soul for the city.

O

O

O

’What’s the leagues interest in that boy?’

Talia’s brushing her hair out when she answers the phone call to her hotel room

”What a greeting, Beloved, I’m sure I don’t know what it is you’re speaking of.” Talia’s sets her brush aside and pulls her still damp hair over one shoulder tucking the phone between her chin and the other. “Perhaps if you were more specific?”

’Jason Todd.’ His voice is clipped, tight, not in a playful disposition then. ’The boy who tried to steal my tires.’

“Ah, and very nearly bested you in battle?” Talia chuckles and moves to looks out of the window at the sparkling city lights. “None that I’m aware off, I merely found his gall to be entertaining. I must ask, are all children in this city quite so precocious or was this boy an irregularity?”

The other side of the line is silent for a few moments it takes him to decide whether or not she’s being truthful, she takes the time to look at the spaces between the bright lights, at the shadows her beloved hides himself within while he protects this city. The shadows where most of its inhabitants dwell, out o reach of the light.

’We both know this isn’t your typical vacation destination, what are you doing here then?’

“Nothing of worth.” Talia shook her head, turning from the window, it was debatable whether anything of worth could be done for this city. “Not unless you would be inclined to suggest such an activity.”

There’s a snort and she can picture the put upon frown dragging down his lips. ’Goodnight Talia.’

“For the sake of my curiosity, what is it you’ve done with the boy.” She asks before he can end the call. “Are you scouting for Richards replacement so soon? You realize he’s need more training than your previous protégé at that age.” She hasn’t found any evidence that rumors of Robin’s passing are any more than rumors, but his lack of a presence may be due to something else entirely, and there’s no guarantee he’ll be returning to Gotham in the near future.

‘I dropped him off at a boy’s school.’ He sighs and there’s a burst of movement induced static, before he warns, ’But I’ll know if the league tries anything.’

”Of course, sleep well Beloved.” Talia returns the receiver to its cradle and pulls on a cord to turn off the lights, and then she gathers up the covers and rests against her pillows, where she lies, mulling over the night’s events until she falls to sleep. Her last though is of handwritten pages taped to worn books.

O

O

O

Early the next morning, before the sun rises, for no reason she can discern and no prior planning, Talia stops by Park Row before boarding the jet waiting to take her from Gotham.

The school where Bruce took the boy seems normal enough at a first glace. Like all the others of its kind, it doesn’t appear particularly comfortable, but there is bedding, an eating hall, facilities that all seem to be in order. Compared to where he’d been when her beloved had found him, the boy should have been grateful for the shelter and sanitation the place provided at the very least.

Why then is he making an escape out of the attic window?

She raises an eyebrow at the slight boy scrambling gingerly down the wall, right up until he drops down the last two floors and hits the ground with a jarring thump. Amid a litany of curses, he stands and brushes the gravel from his trousers, the same grime stained pair he’d been wearing the previous day.

If he goes missing now, Talia doubts Bruce would believe the league had nothing to do with it. Closing her suddenly tired eyes for a moment, Talia signals her driver to wait, then gets out of the car.

He’s stomping down an alleyway, still muttering to himself when she catches up with him.

“One would think a child in your position would be more grateful.”

”What the…!” He spins around, swinging a thin iron bar, but as soon as his eyes actually land on her, he trips over his feet in an attempt to keep the blow from hitting, a move that would have been unsuccessful had she not stepped from its path. He squawks as he falls to the ground in an undignified heap.

”Especially considering the fact that you’re likely to die traversing a sidewalk.” She shakes her head as he tries to pick himself up, she grabs hold of his arm and his sucks in a low breath when she pulls him to his feet. “I’ll return you to the school.”

”You with him?” he doesn’t wait for her answer before he yanks himself out of her grip and spins again to face her. “Like hell you will!” Talia has to work not to flinch at the bruising that mars his face. Fresher than anything he could have gotten before the previous night, the marks, green and dark purple both, continue down the collar of his shirt, to the bloody knuckles gone part-white from his grip on the bar. He notices her inspection and raises the bar defensively. “Try and take me back, I dare ya!”

”Batman will be displeased when he returns for you and finds you’ve disappeared.” She folds her arms and levels her gaze with his instead of on the bruising. She would have thought Bruce would have put more thought into who’s care he left the child in.

”Batman can screw himself, he’s just like the all the rest o’ em, adults.” The boy practically spits out the word, like it’s deadly poison, his whole face twisting into a scowl. “What, he wants ta keep up the supply of crooks or someth’n with that place? Well I’m out, I aint gonna learn to be no crook, no fuckin way, ‘specially not with that batty old crone.”

She keeps her expression blank and doesn’t comment on his inappropriate language. ”And you believe attempting to steal the tires of the Batmobile is less than criminal behavior?”

”Tires, not fucking museum exhibits like those assholes, and I don’t do it for shits and giggles lady; I just boost what it takes to survive. Car like that, he can prolly afford a couple new ones anyways.”

His scoff is high pitched in his frustration and stuff his hands in the pockets of his vest, when he turns his expression back on her; it’s more resigned than anything else. “You’re gonna call no matter what I say, aint ya?”

Talia doesn’t reply immediately, instead, she takes a breath and considers his question. Surely, her beloved would prefer having this child out of harm’s way for a time. There’s no reason he wouldn’t be more put upon by Talia removing him from the school than he would were she to remove him to a less hostile location, but where is the question.

Apparently her silence goes on too long. “Figures.” The boy huffs and starts tracing circles in the gravel with the tip of his sneaker. His posture betrays nothing other than resignation for whatever fate she decides for him.

It’s very convincing.

Then he tries to run away again and she has to grab a fistful of the grungy fabric behind his neck and press him up against the wall to keep him in place.

”Aw, come on!” He screams, throwing all of his not-considerable body weight into the twisting and pulling he does to escape her hold, his cursing a steady accompaniment to his struggles. None of it works of course, but it carries on for a good five minutes before his voice has gone too hoarse for and he has to focus more on his breathing than anything else. The technique is sloppy and he’s too weak for there to be any other outcome, but with a good training regiment and diet, there’s a good chance it might be developed. Not one of the people passing by stop to investigate, most don’t even spare a glance down the alley and those that do only cross the street.

”If you’re quite done.” Talia says once he’s gone silent, and he fixes her with a glare that borders on murderous, but doesn’t speak. She loosens her grip enough that he can set his feet back on the ground, but she doesn’t release him entirely on the very likely chance that he will attempt another escape. “You’ll be wise to watch your language from this point onward; such vulgarity will not be tolerated.”

Defiantly, the boy tries to jerk himself out of her hold in reply. Talia bites back on her a smile and turns him to start walking, keeping a tight hold on both his shoulders. Defiance can be unlearned, but the stubbornness and determination it is born of can be harnessed under the right conditions.

”’ll just bolt again later.” He mutters under his breath as he walks, once the school is in their line of sight, his shoulders sag and he cranes his head to look at her. “C’n ya at least tell Batman they’re gonna rob the museum tonight? Stuff’s old an they’re a buncha dumbasses who got no idea how to take care of it an ‘ts not like ya can just replace whatever they ruin in there. ‘S important.”

”I’ll have it dealt with.” She says. The tension in his shoulders returns bit-by-bit the closer they get to the school, and he drags his feet more. Talia increases the strength of her grip, a warning in case he thinks about running again, until they’ve passed it.

”Wait, the school.” When he tries to pull away from her this time, it’s to try looking past her, at the building they’re leaving behind them. “Where the fuck’re ya…”

”Your language Jason.” She warns and he almost stills at her use of his name, but she keeps him walking.

”How…?” He takes another look at the school before they turn away from it and start heading for the side of the road where Talia’s driver is waiting. “Did he tell ya? Hey, c’mon lady, I won’t run again, kay.”

”Even were I to believe that, you will be better off in my care than that woman’s.” The driver opens the door, not so much as batting an eye at his new passenger.

”We goin’ to Batman’s place?” Jason frowns, his brows furrowed, but he slides hesitantly into the car, with moving far enough towards the door so that she can slide in besides him.

”No you’ll remain with me until such a time that The Batman inquires of your whereabouts so that I may inquire of his planning capabilities.” As she says it, she again takes in the bruises splashed across the boy’s skin.

”’N if he doesn’t?” The boy’s brought his knees up to his chin, it’s good that the high quality leather is strain resistant, or the grime coming off his shoes would have been irreparable. She’ll have to find him something else to wear before they reach the jet.

”He’s made it clear he will.” She signals the driver to continue to their destination. “And he’ll likely put more thought into where he places you once he does.”

”Yeah sure he will.” Jason scoffs again, and turns his gaze to the window and the passing city with a petulant pout. “Big boob.”

Talia hums, but doesn’t find the insult harsh enough to scold him. She’s not sure where she’d going to take the boy once they’re on the place, or what exactly she’s going to do with him after that. It’s an impulsive decision and her planning shows for that, but it’s no matter, she’s confident she’ll have some sort of plan once she needs one. Her Beloved had warned the league off from the child, not Talia herself and she intends to return him if Bruce requests it. If he requests it. For now, she has some orders to issue regarding a museum.

[thebustedandtheblue]

The Busted Ch 5: Good Times Bad Times

The Busted Ch 4: Over and Over and Over

Chapter 1| Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Days pass into weeks. Scullery duty continued, but there was a distinct air of hesitation from the rest of the crew when the two worked. There were no more incidents like with the orloni, and while the name calling and jeering still happened it wasn’t nearly as often as it had been that first day. It appeared that N’Zar had been accepted, although she suspected it was done at the behest of the officers of the Starhawk. She no longer tagged along with her charge although she did spend a bit of time with him. Eventually Yondu broke off from mess duties, and she kept washing dishes.

She still didn’t know much about him, where he was from, what he did before becoming a Ravager. What little he spoke to her was usually orders or grunts. She almost never saw him smile, and when he did, it was always with some wicked reason behind it. She had to find out from Tullk. She was scouring the sink of grime from the previous meal when he came by on his break.

“What’s Udonta’s deal?” She asked him, brushing off the grime from her trousers.

“What d’you mean?” He asked, ha

“I mean why’s he always so angry? It’s like he just wants to fight about everything all the time.”

“It’s the only thing he knows. He was a slave most of his life.”

“I figured that but I mean...I’ve known people who’ve been slaves before, I’ve never met anyone like him before.”

“Prolly cause he was a battle slave.”

N’Zar stopped mid scrub. That explains a fair amount. To fight for the Kree without actually being Kree was damn near a death sentence. She had never met one in person, but she had heard stories. They were the vanguard of the ground troops, cannon fodder. He knew her kind more as those that should be destroyed than as actual people. She felt for him, she truly did. Military life, especially forced military life, and at such a young age, was hard.

N’Zar snorted. “No wonder he hates me.”

“I don’t think he hates you. Don’t take it personally he’s like that with everyone. We just got used to it. It’s how he is.”

She was about to say something to him, when someone entered the mess. The Krylorian with the now-crooked nose from the fight.

“Captain wants to see you. He’s with the other officers.” He said.

In so many years of her life, being told to see the boss still scared her. A thousand scenarios went through her mind. She’d been found out and they’re going to send her back to Knowhere; they knew who she really was and they’re going to collect the bounty on her head; they just don’t like her and she’s getting spaced. She could feel her heart beat against her ribs as she made her way to the officers’ quarters, a slightly more spacious section of the ship, where Udonta and the officers were waiting for her. They were all sitting around a table. Stakar, his wife Aleta, his first mate Martinex, Charlie 27, Krugarr, and Yondu. The gang was all there. She stood military stiff in front of her superiors, beating against her chest twice, hard as she could, her back as straight as she could muster.

“Miss N’Zenne”, Stakar started, “We need you

“We’ve been contracted to steal this.” A section of the table shimmered and a projection of a bust of a woman adorned in black robes of obsidian. It was a fairly unimpressive thing, save for a brilliant red jewel in the center of her throat. “That is the Neramani Star. The client just wants that, not the statue. It’s currently owned by this her.” The projection changes, and a Shi’ar woman appears in the bust’s place.

N’Zar relaxed her shoulders, let her back slump slightly.  She cocked her head and looked at the ruby. It must have been the size of her fist. “All right but what does this have to do with me?”

“I’m getting to that.” Stakar said.

“We need you to trade places with this man.” another projection appeared. A Strontian man, slightly younger than the Shi’ar. “Her assistant. We need you to pose as him.”

“Oh! Oooooh. Okay I thought I was in trouble.”

The captain smirked and shook his head. “No you’re doing fine. But if you help us with this you’d be doing us a solid. So what do you want to do?”

“I’m...Wait what are you asking?”

“Give us a plan.” He motioned towards the hologram “What would you do to make it so that his employer doesn’t suspect you, and how are you going to get that stone?”

N’Zar took herself out of the room for the moment. There was a great deal more information she would need if she were to configure a plan.

“What else do you have on him?” She asked, a half demand.

“That’s all we got.”

“I think…”she started, “I’d tail him. No not tail him. Not just me anyway. Get a few guys to watch him, get his routine down, see where he goes in the span of a few days, maybe a week if this was extended. A month if this was deep cover. If this is just a day then following him for a few days or so’d do.”

“Then what?”

“If he’s got a regular place he goes, and by the look of him he probably does. Maybe a bar or he goes and spends time with someone on the weekend, go and see him then, try and chat him up and get him alone.”

“This is very elaborate, N’Zenne.”

She didn’t hear the captain.

“I’d get him alone and the others jump him and knock him out. Hide him in his house or something. Then I go in the next day, check out what she has for security and report back, and then we rob the lady.”

“Sounds like an all right plan.”

N’Zar returned to the land of the living and looked up at Stakar. “Wait what?”

“That was a bit much but we just wanted to know if you were on the same page. You’re joining Yondu here, and a few others, to go and take that stone.”

N’Zar understood now. She knew why the captain didn’t flay her outright when he found her stowed away on his ship. Her sob story did nothing to help her. He was willing to take her on whether she was tragic or not. She almost regretted spilling her guts until the thought of what she would have had to endure back on Knowhere.

“What do I get out of this?” she asked

“You get a cut, and anything else you find is yours.”

N’Zar looked at the holograph. She looked up at the officers and Udonta.

“All right, I’ll do it. Where are we going anyway?”

“Spartax.”

“Oh cool. Spartax. I have no idea where that is.”

Aleta snorted.

N’Zar walked down the sun drenched cobblestones of an old part of the Spartoi capitol. The ancient buildings of stone and glass around the open square stood dignified in contrast to the monstrous skyscrapers of downtown and the floating transports that crisscrossed the sky. There were a few booths and carts set up around them selling all manner of produce, a few selling wines or other libations. This was what she had always imagined what her ancestors’ home had once been like.

“Enough sightseeing, N’Zenne. The guy’s coming up on your left.” Udonta’s familiar abrasive drawl said through her earpiece.

And so he was. Lean, violet skinned, somewhere in his forties and running through the square like several others that morning. N’Zar wandered around him, keeping a good few meters away. The mark turned the corner of the block, she was a good ten feet away from him. The mark stopped at a crosswalk. When the signal changed, she noticed that his pace had picked up. Had he noticed her? She hung back a little bit. She didn’t want to scare him.

“Get closer, N’Zenne.” Udonta said.

“I’ll spook him if he gets closer”

“Get closer. That’s an order.”

“I’m fine.” She insisted. “You’ll lose him.

She stops and looks up into the tall buildings above her. “I know what I’m doing, Udonta.”

On a roof some five blocks away, with a very powerful pair of binoculars, a man with blue skin and a red mohawk of an implant scowled. He would not tolerate insubordination, or some little shit Skrull talking back to him.

“Get back to him. Now.” Yondu demanded, an agitated rumble in his voice.

She glared in the vicinity of the building, and returned to tailing the Strontian man.

“Don’t be so hard on her.” Tullk said from across the room. He had been monitoring her target’s movements. “It’s her first mission, Yondu.”

“She shits the bed I’m going to be the one paying for it.”

“Have some faith in her. She’s probably done this before although it probably ended with a wallet.”

Yondu grumbled. “I have a lot riding on this mission, Tullk.”

“I know.” was all Tullk said and waved him off. He looked through his own scope. The sun was still low in the morning sky, and the scope each could see her in a terran-esque shift with olive skin and dark hair. Her eyes remained the same. “She’s not that bad looking like this.” “If you like skinny green shapeshifters.” Yondu scoffed.

“What if I do?” Tullk asked.

Yondu wasn’t sure if he was trying to get a rise out of him, or if he was genuinely interested. But he turned to look at his scarred and tattooed friend. He squinted. He wasn’t sure if his friend was serious or not. Getting duped by a skrull was one thing, it was an entirely different thing to go to bed voluntarily with one. He could understand the appeal to some degree, shifting into whatever he wanted, any race, any gender, but as she was was different.

“I ain’t her keeper anymore. If you want to ask her out you do you.”

“Then maybe I will.” Tullk said, a ghost of a smile on his face. “What’s she like in bed?”

“He wouldn’t know he never got that far. And I’m not skinny!” A distinctly feminine voice said over the comms. The two men had momentarily forgotten they were still speaking over an open channel. Somewhere in orbit around Spartax, in the officers quarters on board the Starhawk, Aleta Ogord let out a horsey peal of laughter.

She wasn’t that skinny. Not anymore. A few good-ish meals on the Starhawk saw to that. She was lean, but she wasn’t skinny. What would Udonta know anyway.

She followed her orders, catching up to the mark. The old buildings fell away to modern homes. More angular and dull rowhouses. She saw him walk up a flight of stairs to one of the last traditional-looking brick buildings on the street. It was a modest thing of two stories and made of red and creme brick. She walked passed the building, making note as he walked into the house.

“Now we know where he lives. So now what?”

“Wait there, N’Zenne.”

A small and growing blip in the sky came down, a transport, parking a block away from the house. From the cabin of the car came Yondu and Tullk.

“Alright so now what do we do?” She asked once again.

Yondu looked up at the building.

“Y’think you can turn into a bird?” He asks.

“Yeah but I won’t be able to fly or anything.”

“Ah...what?”

“I’m gonna be too heavy to fly, and I won’t really know how to fly since I never practiced being a bird. Might be able to glide, but I don’t think there’s enough wind to get me very far. What did you want me to do crash into the window?”

He scowled. “If you’re so smart what do we do?” Yondu grumbled.

N’Zar looked at her two partners. Both were scruffy, one was ill-tempered, the other one too many tattoos for what she had in mind, but it might still work.

“You guys got any money?”

The two men searched the pockets of their leathers. Between the two of them they had a little shy of thirty units.

“This should do us...we gotta find a thrift store.”

“Thrift store?” Yondu asked.

“Yeah a thrift store! That transport got a GPS?”

He was in the midst of dressing for work when the doorbell rang. He wasn’t expecting company, but perhaps it was that package from home he had been waiting on? The one his father said he would have to sign for. The strontian man heard the doorbell ring again, this time with some slight urgency. Down the stairs he went to see three figures behind the frosted glass. He opened the door and in front of him was a small strontian woman holding a very thick, dog-eared book. Her outfit was conservative, a dark skirt and blazer, with a white shirt and dark tights. Around her neck she wore a bright gold ankh. Behind her were two men in a similar mode of dress. They all looked rather tired and haggard, with beads of sweat from the summer heat on their faces, and dark patches under their arms.

The woman gave him a toothy smile. “Excuse me sir, I hate to be a bother on this very lovely morning, but do you have a moment to talk about the Magus? It will only be a moment of your time.”

Unies. Great.

“I’m very sorry but I don’t have the time right now.” He said, and began to close the door only to have it stopped by her foot in the threshold.

“Perhaps some other time then?” She squeaked. “I could come back later today if you’d be so inclined.”

She was being persistent, and from the looks of her she had been running around in those clothes most of the morning. He looked into her sad golden eyes. He honestly shouldn’t. The two behind her looked mean, and the Centaurian in particular looked like he was ready to stab someone His employer does not like to be left waiting, and he generally was not a fan of the Universal Church of Truth, but at the very least he could be polite and let her in for a glass of water.

He sighed, and opened the door wider to let her and her compatriots in.

She gave a slight curtsy and the three walked into the house. The Centaruian kept his eyes forward, not even looking at his host. The last one, a man with scars and tattoos, came up to the man and shook his hand heartily. “Thank ye very much, sir.” He said, sticking a small metal disc to his hand. He looked into the man’s face, a wicked grin on his face. Behind the two men the Strontian woman’s violet skin was changing to an olive green. Her hand was reaching for something around her wrist, and it was the last thing he saw before a shock and the floor rushing up to him.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Imagine Bucky is an employee at Stark Industries and one day he has to bring his child in. And of course child somehow gets lost and ends up in Tony's office where tony is completely charmed.

No Job Too Small

“Okay,Wanda,” Bucky said, directing his child toward the guest-chair in his office.He had to clear a stack of papers off it before she could sit; Bucky’s officewas nothing short of a disaster, something his supervisor liked to complainabout. “You get to sit in this chair, and Piet--” Crap, where was Pietro again?Bucky could swear that kid was quicksilver, he disappeared every single timeBucky didn’t have eyes on him for three seconds, tops.

Under his desk, Bucky heard a faintscrape. “There you are!”

In his fantasies, Bucky was goingto strangle Pepper Potts. Last year -- and all the years between last year andwhen the twins were born -- the Bring Your Kid to Work day had been on a schoolday, and even though his kids had just started first grade, he had themenrolled in an advanced day care center practically when his ex had presentedhim with her testing kit and the two little pink lines.

This year, however, Potts hadrescheduled so that the company event was on one of the few bank holidays thatthe school was closed, but Stark Industries was not.

(Not that Bucky, as a member of theIT security department, got bank holidays off. Operations was too vital forthings like President’s Day. And today had proved that for sure; he’d had topush his kids into Darcy Lewis’s tender care for the first few hours of theday, when there was a massive DDOS attack against their servers. Fortunately,that had only taken about an hour to divert the incoming attacks to the dummyproxy VR farm that Bucky’d been tinkering with as a side project for a while.He was just patting himself smugly on the back when Darcy had thrust Wanda athim and told him “take your little witch and get out of my life.”)

“I found a nickel,” Piet informedBucky, holding out the black and dingy coin.

“Good for you,” Bucky said as Pietput it in his pocket. “Stop prospectin’ under my desk and go sit with yoursister.”

Piet’s lower lip pooched out.“She’s gonna bite me.”

“She’s not going to bite you,”Bucky said. That may or may not have been a lie. Wanda’d gone through a fewbiting phases, and Piet had borne the worst of it. He was pretty sure she wasover it -- the last few times she’d bitten anyone, she’d lost televisionprivileges for a week -- but putting the twins in any sort of new situationoften flared up their various behavioral problems.

“I am going to bite him,” Wandareported, looking up from Bucky’s phone where she was gleefully blowing up pigsin Angry Birds. “If he pokes me. Or wiggles too much. Or looksat me. He deserves it.”

Bucky rubbed his hand over hisface. “No one’s biting anyone.”

“Says you,” Wanda said.

“Yes, I did. No biting, younglady,” Bucky said. Damn, he wished Nat was here. She could get the kids tobehave. Of course, the fact that the kids only saw their mother in person abouttwice a year had a lot to do with that. Piet in particular had come to theconclusion that if he misbehaved around Nat, she’d just leave and never comeback.

“But--”

“No buts,” Bucky said. He kneltdown in front of the chair. “Do we need to talk about why you shouldn’t hurtpeople, again?”

Wanda wriggled a bit, putting herfinger to the side of her mouth like she was considering it. Bucky wasn’t sureif she was deciding if she wanted the lecture, or if she wanted to bite herbrother, but he let her think it through.

“I won’t bite Piet,” she said,finally.

“Thank you, kiddo,” Bucky said.

“He’s not here to bite anyway,”Wanda pointed out.

Oh. Oh, god.

(mobile readers, more below the cut)

The nice thing about being TonyStark was that no one actually expected to find him in his top-floor fishbowlstyle office.

He was usually found showing upexactly where his employees didn’t want him -- Maria Hill had been utterlyscandalized the one time she’d found Tony on his back, under the floor panels,helping with a rack power grid installation, covered with dirt. The poorelectricians who’d let him assist had no idea who he was, and they wereterrified they were going to lose their jobs. Tony’d promoted Scott Langimmediately, and his assistant a few months after that, and Tony dropped in onthem at lunch from time to time. Scott had used one of his bonuses to buy theelectricians under his command a shiny new espresso machine, which Tony foundas a convenient excuse to drop in.

Or, he was in the labs andworkshops, chasing R&D out of their moleholes, helping with ideas, workingthe Stark magic.

So when he was all fucking peopledout from a terrible board meeting, a shitty press conference about the DDOSattacks on Stark Industries and the possibility of compromised information, thestand-up with Cyber Security team leads, and the loss of one of their bestresearchers -- Tony still wasn’t sure why Parker had left to work for Oscorps,the man had never indicated that he was unsatisfied with his work at SI -- heretreated to his office.

Where no one was going to look forhim.

Tony kicked off his expensive, butnot particularly comfortable shoes and loosened his tie as soon as he walkedinto the office. Hung his jacket on the back of the door and cuffed his shirtsleeves.

He considered the decanter ofbourbon that, even now, he kept under the sideboard cabinet. Everyone knew TonyStark had an alcohol problem; very few people knew that he’d managed to kick itto the curb. So he still kept the bottle, offered a drink to high-end clientsor peers, but also as a symbol of the thing that he’d beaten. Which also meantthat whenever he had a shit day, he had to deal with that temptation, goldenand gleaming.

Tony threw himself into his leatherdesk chair, stretching his arms over his head and extending his feet--

Into a soft shape that squeaked.

“What the actual fuck?”

“You kicked me!” an indignant voicecomplained.

Tony rolled his tongue around inhis mouth for a moment, utterly at a loss. “You’re under my desk,” he pointedout, “which is where my feet go.”

“You weren’t here,” the voicecontinued.

Tony almost -- almost -- slouchedin his chair to peer under his desk, but then, it was his desk, after all.“Come out here where I can look at you.”

A shock of nearly white hairemerged and Tony had just enough time to wonder if his office had been invadedby hobbits or something, when the kid looked up, and it was a kid, under thatstrange, white-silver hair. Probably old enough to be in school, but obviously not inschool today, with piercing blue eyes and a truly impressive scowl.

“You’ve seen me,” the kid said.

“So I have,” Tony said. “Who do youbelong to?”

“I don’t belong toanyone,” the kid said. “You don’t own people.”

Tony laughed, twitching his handover his mouth. “Well, true enough, but… who’s your mom?”

The kid stared at him. “That’sclassified.”

Tony about choked. “What?”

“She works for the President,” theboy reported. “She’s very important. I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

Ooookay. Try again. Tony rolled his eyes. “Well, my name is Tony Stark. What’syours?”

“Pietro Maximoff Romanov-Barnes,”the kid said.  

Jesus Christ, the kid’s name waslonger than he was. Tony brought up his computer with a wave of his hand; thelightscreen keyboard hovering midair. He accessed personnel. No Romanovs orRomanov-Barnes in the roster. And there were fifteen freaking Barnes. “Nowwe’re not strangers anymore.”

The kid looked dubious, which wasokay. Tony was pretty damned dubious himself.

Also, while he was in there, he checkedhis email, and discovered that it was bring your kid to work day, whichexplained why there was a kid here, in the building here, and not at all whythere was a kid here, in his office here.

“Which parent brought you in here,today?”

“Dad.”

“And what’s his name?”

“Bucky.”

Tony checked the roster. There wasabsolutely no Bucky Barnes on his list of employees.

“So, where’s your dad?”

“Dunno,” Pietro said. “I ran offwhen Wanda blew up the copier.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Who’sWanda?”

The kid jutted out his jaw.“Sister. Younger sister. Twelve minutes.”

Twins. Great. Tony tapped in a fewkeys, accessing-- oh, here it was, maintenance called to repair a copier downin CSF. “Okay, well, come on, let’s see if we can find your father, hmmm?”

“Can’t I stay here?”

Tony blinked. “Why would you wantto?”

Pietro looked around from hishiding place, leaning against Tony’s knee. “No sisters.”

“Oh, well, I can see that as beingan advantage,” Tony said. “On the other hand, I bet your dad’s worried aboutyou.”

“He’s prolly still cleaning upafter Wanda,” Pietro pointed out.

“Still…” Tony pushed his desk chairback, stood up and offered the kid a hand. “Let’s go see if we can find him.”

There were only so many placesPietro could have gotten to, without having a badge (and Bucky had checked --twice! -- to make sure his son hadn’t snatched his badge when he wasdistracted) unless people weren’t paying attention and let a six year oldfollow them through restricted doors.

He wasn’t up to panic yet; panicabout Pietro disappearing had stopped happening around the time he was four,and had disappeared at least once a week for the last year and a half. Now hewas just resigned. If he didn’t find his son in the next hour or so, he’dprobably work himself up to panicking again.

Pietro had been found any number ofplaces: asleep under a rack of coats at JC Penney’s, inside the ice-cream caseat the local grocer’s, in the narrow gap between the sofa and the wall (thathad been the one time Nat had actually called the police because the front doorof their apartment had also been left open). One time he’d even torn open thebottom of the king-sized box spring in Bucky’s bedroom and hidden inside it.

The first time he’d gone a quicksweep of the floor to see if he could locate his wayward son, Wanda had slippedout of his office and managed to blow up the copier. Literally. She was coveredin printer toner in a variety of colors that weren’t usually found in nature.So, she was on her leash, clipped to Bucky’s wrist while he searched.

Cafeteria and vendateria were bothchild-free (well, free of his child, at any rate). He’d checked with security;no unattended children had left the building, so that was good, at least. Hechecked the common areas -- two employee lounges; freed Wanda from her clip tocheck the ladies’ room, while he scoped out the men’s rooms. No Pietro.

He was just headed back up theelevator to see if the kid had managed to get to the public shop floors, wherethere were two coffee shops, a tea shop, a massage spa, a bistro and a fewother places that weren’t strictly Stark Industries, but occupied the firstfloor.

“Good morning, James,” Pepper Pottssaid. The look on her face gave Bucky the heads up that her goodwas sarcastic.

“Ms. Potts,” Bucky said. He verymuch did not want to see her face as she looked past him at his multi-coloredchild behind him.

“Mr. Stark is in your office,” shesaid, her mouth twitching. “He’d like to see you, if you don’t mind.”

Fuck.

Seeing Tony Stark (Tony Stark!) in hisoffice was surreal. Sure, Bucky knew who the guy was; it was impossible to workin the building and not know who he was. Not to mention that the CEO of StarkIndustries was on the cover of Time Magazine more than once (and featured insleazy tabloids much more than once). There was an enormous portrait of him inthe main lobby and some more tasteful, smaller ones, scattered around thebuilding.

Seeing him sitting behind Bucky’sdamn desk, tapping away at Bucky’s aging laptop, with Bucky’s damn son in hisfucking lap was crazy. He was also handsomely disheveled, hair messed up, histie open and dangling around his throat, a few buttons of his shirt undone, andhis sleeves rolled up. He was also in sock-feet.

Bucky swallowed hard. He knew thatStark was a good-looking man. Four on the top ten most eligible bachelor’slist. His casual noticing that Stark was good looking grabbed water andsunlight and blossomed into a goddamn crush while Stark was just sitting there.

Fuck.

I am so, so fucking fired.

He didn’t even know what he’d done(aside from dare to try to have a normal life with his wife and kids, and thenhis wife had decided she wasn’t done with the game, and had left him to go backto D.C.) but he was going to be fired.

And not just fired, but spectacularlyfired. Making the tabloids himself levels of fired.

“Mr. Stark,” Bucky said, standingin the doorway of his office and trying not to cringe.

“Dad!” Piet chirped from his seaton Stark’s lap. “This is my new friend, Tony.”

“Mr. Stark,” Bucky repeated, thistime correcting his son.

“Tony’s fine,” the man himselfsaid, waving a hand. “Come in, sit down, this was you?” He pointed at thelaptop.

“Wha-- oh, the DDOS solution? Yes,sir. We deployed it this morning.”

“You coded the most efficientsolution I’ve ever seen… how long--”

“I’ve been working with the ideafor a while, sir,” Bucky said, blinking. What the hell were they talking aboutthis for? “It just got urgent, today.”

“I’ll say,” Stark said. “What areyou doing down here?”

“Huh? I mean, I was looking forPiet-- did you… was he in here--”

“No, I found him under my desk,actually,” Stark said. “Beside the point. You left your laptop open, and Ihelped myself. I do have a master-command code, you know. This is brilliant,I’m… look, here. I have another board meeting about the DDOS this afternoon,and I’d like you to come with me. Show your solution to the board, I’m veryimpressed. And grateful. The attack was bad, but it could have been so muchworse and I’d like to talk with you about the direction of your career. Yourson tells me that you used to work in cyber security at the White House?”

Bucky nodded. “Yes, sir, underSenator Pierce. Until--”

“Until you had an affair with oneof the Secret Service agents,” Tony said. “Yes, I looked over your personnelfile while I was waiting. Lost your job. She went into retirement for a while,you two tried the picket fence and two point five kids thing for about twoyears--”

“She left us,” Wanda reported,peering around Bucky’s leg, “for her job. An’--”

“Honey, that’s personal,” Buckysaid. Godddamnit, he hated that his kids felt so damn abandoned. “But it wasmore than that, you know that, right Wanda? Your mom, she just wasn’t happyhere. She… likes protecting people. That’s what she does.”

“Dad, c’n Tony come over an’ watchSuperfriends with us, this weekend?” Piet asked.

Bucky blinked. What? Huh? “Uh, I’msure Mr. Stark--”

“--Would love to,” Starkinterrupted.

Bucky pinched himself. Surely thishad to be some sort of wild nightmare/dream and the alarm was getting ready togo off and he’d have to drag himself through another day at work and--

“Great, sure,” Bucky said, becausewhat the utter fucking hell was he supposed to say.

“Great,” Stark repeated. “Okay,look, I’ll get Ms. Potts to find you someone to look after the twins -- cute asthey are, I don’t think the board would find it at all as charming as I do.And… I’ll see you in Stateroom 2, at four o’clock. Don’t be late. We’ll discussour weekend outing. After? Okay? Ok, kid, I gotta go be bossy for a while now.But I’ll see you soon.”

And then Tony was handing overBucky’s son with a quick pat on the shoulder and gone in a swirl of expensivecologne.

Bucky walked over to his deskchair, sat down hard. “What… what just happened?”

“You have a playdate with Mr. Tonythis weekend,” his son informed him crisply.

Bucky rolled his tongue around inhis mouth for a moment. “Okay, then.”

“I like him, he’s nice,” Piet said.

“And cute,” Wanda piped up. “Can wekeep him?”

Bucky blinked. “He’s my boss. He’snot even my boss, he’s like my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss.”

Who was coming over to his… house.To watch cartoons? With his son. What even was his life?

Bucky continued to stand there,stunned.

“Don’t forget your meeting,” Wandasaid, helpfully.

Bucky took a deep breath. He coulddo this; present his DDOS solution to a board meeting. Right. In his tee andjeans, because the lower floors of SI didn’t have a dress code beyond “yes,please wear clothes.” That were covered with Wanda’s inky handprints.

There was nothing for it; if Starkwas going to actually bring him to a board meeting, he wasn’t likely to getfired for looking like he had personally engaged in gladiatorial combat withthe office printer.

Two hours later, Ms. Potts wastaking his kids off to get an ice-cream and Bucky was wearing a jacket that shepresented to him with a quick smile. He hesitated in front of Stateroom two,and then opened the door. Bucky clutched his thumb drive with his slide deckcarefully saved on it.

He could do this.

Two months later

“You look… nice.”

“Always the tone of surprise, Nat,”Bucky said. He glanced in the mirror, tucked his flyaway hair back into themessy little bun at the base of his neck.

“Tell me you didn’t get all dressedup for me,” she said, balancing Wanda on her hip.

“He didn’t,” Piet informed her.“Daddy’s got a date! We’re having mommy time tonight.”

Nat blinked. “Oh. You’re datingagain?”

“Yes.” Bucky hadn’t bothered toshare that little detail with her, although he’d been delighted to tell herabout his sudden -- meteoric, really -- promotion and pay raise.

“That’s good, James,” Nat said.“That’s really… I’m glad to hear it.”

The doorbell rang.

“That’s him!” Piet yelled, runningoff down the hall. Wanda squirmed to be put down and chased after her twin.

“Him?” Nat’s eyebrow went up. “Andthe kids--”

“Wanda and Piet love Tony,” Buckysaid. “It’s… honestly, it’s because of them that we got together in the firstplace.”

“I can see we’ll have some catchingup to do.”

“After,” Bucky said. “You, erm, youdon’t mind, do you?”

“It’s not babysitting,” Nat said.“They are my children, too.”

Bucky nodded. “Okay.”

Tony was in the hall, Bucky couldhear him talking earnestly with Wanda, who was telling him all about a dreamshe had the day before. “... but was it a seedless grape?”

And there he was, Tony, dressed tothe nines.

“--and this is our mom,” Pietinformed him.

“Ms. Romanov,” Tony greeted her,looking every inch the perfect gentleman. (He wasn’t. Which Bucky had every reasonto know, and was delighted by.)

Nat blinked. “Tony Stark.” Shewhirled on Bucky. “You’re dating TonyStark?”

Tony threaded his hand withBucky’s, lacing their fingers together. “Yes, yes he is. And he’s running late,so, if you don’t mind, I’m going to steal him now.”

Nat made her little wave, fingerswriggling. “By all means…”

Bucky hugged and kissed his kidsgoodnight, gave Nat a brief peck on the cheek and pretended not to be affectedwhen Wanda and Piet both insisted on goodnight kisses from Tony as well. Puthis arm around his boyfriend’s waist. And reminded himself to send Pepper Pottsa gift, for insisting on Bring Your Kids to Work day.

[woozletania]

Just a temporary kidnapping (RR/Ravagers)

From an idea I had the other night: Rocket develops such a reputation as a mechanic that Ravager factions keep (politely) kidnapping him to fix their ships.

*****

Rocket swam up toward consciousness.  He very, very badly wanted not to, because between him and the light was a thick, greasy layer of pain.  Despite his best efforts he rose, into the pain, into light like daggers in his eyes.

“Aw man, my head.”  Gently he felt with his sensitive little hands, sure he'd find blood and brains leaking out.  Instead there was just the fur, his ears pressed back against the sides of his head where they only lay when he was very angry or very unhappy. He was sure that only the reinforcing plates in his skull kept it from splitting open. Cybernetic servos in his arms whined as he shifted on a soft surface, trying to find a comfortable spot. The pain and nausea made it impossible.

“You about awake over there?”

A voice, terribly loud.  He winced and covered his ears.  “Go 'way.”

“'Kay, I'll come back in an hour. Cup by your bed has some stuff the doc says 'll make ya feel better, you drink that when you can, 'kay?”

“Wait.”  He didn't know that voice, and that was a bad sign.  Without lifting himself from the bed he felt around until he found the cup. Incredibly sensitive clawed hands pulled it closer, feeling the pitted ceramic, and a nose fifty times as keen as a man's sniffed.

It didn't smell bad.  Not bitter. Spices, some alcohol, drugs.  He recognized the brew, or close enough: he'd been drunk enough times to know how to mix something like it himself.  Eyes still tightly closed against the piercing light he lapped up the spicy cocktail, for once not caring that someone saw him drinking like an animal.

There was an immediate sense of relief as the warmth of his mouth volatilized compounds to be absorbed through his sinuses.  The pain was still there, but fading.  He chanced opening an eye. What he saw when he got used to what turned out to be dim lighting wasn't promising.

He was stark naked, for one thing.  Well, except for the fur. The walls around the bed were great slabs of riveted alloy. Overhead was an equally thick slab of armorglass with lighting elements above that.  Thankfully only one of nine elements was lit.

As he recovered from the hangover his ears began to work properly and he registered the hum of distant engines.  He was on a ship, then, and not one he'd even been on before.

“There ya go. Good for what ails ya, right?”

He didn't feel like puking anymore either.  He still wasn't happy when he rolled over. The room turned out to be about three by four meters, with a series of tridee screens on one wall behind a sheet of armorglass almost as thick as the one on the ceiling. There was a little relief station, the old flushing mechanical type without so much as a single indicator light, and an armored door three times as tall as he was. Sitting in a bolted-down alloy frame chair was a yellow-skinned biped.

Yellow skin, scars, that red outfit, the Ravager symbol like a leaf with seven upward-pointing thorns. He'd seen enough Ravagers now, from Yondu and his crew to Kraglin to Stakarr and the other high mucky-mucks he'd called to tell about Yondu's death to recognize a captain's insignia.

“Aw man.  Here we go again, huh?”  Rocket's fangs came out and his ears went back. “Lemme guess.  I can hear your ship's out of whack from here, there's a crack in one of your drive crystals and you got problems with life support too, from the smell.  An' I'm supposed to fix it all like a good little slave, right?”

“You ain't a slave,” the man said calmly.  “I'm Cap'n Triger, an' this rust bucket is the Violent Lady.  Lemme tell ya how it's gonna be.”

“I ain't gonna join your crew,” Rocket snarled. “Fix your own damn ship.”

Triger stood. “Outside this door is a locked corridor with four a' my toughest in it.  Unarmed.  Not even a knife.  Nothin' you can take and kill us with, just five big Ravagers and a hall you won't get out of even if you beat us.  Now I'm gonna go out this door.  You got two choices, okay?  You can stay in here,” he gestured at the armored walls, “Watch some videos.  We slide food in though this slot.  In a week we let ya go back to yer friends. I even got ya a comfy bed after I heard the kind ya like.”

Rocket realized he was sitting in a round, padded bed, bigger than the pet bed Quill got him but almost as comfortable.  It was obviously meant for an animal, but as long as the Ravager didn't say anything about that he could handle it.  And the Ravager didn't.

“So you can stay here for a week.  Pretty borin' though.  Or.”

“Or?”

“Or you can take over a work crew I assign ya.  Make 'em do whatever ya want.  I bet you like that idea.  Tinker with stuff.  Doesn't have ta be the drive, but I wouldn't complain.  An' in a week we still let ya go, only richer.”

Rocket's eyes narrowed.  “How much richer?”

“Five thousand Units.  Ten if you get the drives workin' right.  I hear you're good with drives.”

“You drugged me and kidnapped me just to work on your ship?”

“Din' take much, drunk as you were.  But lemme make this clear.”  Triger raised one finger, thick with rings.  Not gaudy, jeweled ones, but hard, metallic, spiky ones.  Fighting rings, bolted to his fingers.  “I ain't gonna try to make you do this.  You wanna just sit in this room, ya can.  You get let go either way.  After what happened to cap'n Sharktooth and the Superb Nova I ain't gonna try to make you do anythin'.  But I'll pay ya to.”

“What's a Superb Nova?”

Triger grinned. His filed, sharp-pointed teeth reminded Rocket eerily of Yondu.  “You can say you don't know why Sharktooth's ship blew up after you escaped.  But don't try to tell me you don't know the ship.  Talked to Shark and he had this great idea, kidnap you and make you use your smart little hands on his ship. Didn't work out so well for him, did it?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Sure ya don't. So, what's it gonna be?  Watch some screens for a week or get paid?”

Rocket looked around the room.  Now that he had recovered he noted the complete absence of tech.  Not one button, no junction boxes.  Just hard alloy and armorglass.  He was good at getting out of cells, very good indeed, but this one?  It was a metal box.  Someone had finally worked out that the way to keep his hands out of the tech was simply not to have any in his cell. There were signs that the armorglass was hastily, but competently installed, and recently, to keep him out of the tridee screens and even the overhead lights.  They'd modified the cell just for him.  It was almost flattering.

Now, he did still have a trick or two if they hadn't scanned him too thoroughly, but...

“How do I know you'll let me go?”

“B'cause a two things. First, yer friends are already looking for ya.  We're way out on the Rim and it'll take 'em a while, but I don't want to make an enemy of that green skinned lady.  Y'know the one.  Daughter a Thanos. I don't need her or the Destroyer or an angry tree comin' after me for revenge.”

“And the other thing?”

“You got friends in high places,” Triger pulled out a bundle of clothing that'd been pressed between his back and the metal chair and tossed it to Rocket. The color and material told him what it was before it started to unroll: a Rocket-sized Ravager uniform.  “You called us to the funeral.  We haven't forgotten.  You prolly think we're all assholes, but we don't forget things like that.  Weren't for you we wouldn't have known 'bout Yondu.”

“Yeah.” Rocket looked away.  Darn his soft heart.  He teared up too easily, always had.

“So you're an honorary Ravager.  'Less you do something stupid, you're as safe here as you are on that old Ravager fighter Star-Prince flies.”

“Star Munch,” Rocket said automatically.

“Oh yeah, I knew it were something like that. So, what're ya gonna do with your week?”

“All right,” Triger roared a few minutes later to the assembled crew.  They were as motley an assortment of aliens as Yondu's old crew, but almost all recognizably humanoid.  Rocket knew there were species so strange that he and Triger were peas in a pod by comparison, but it was normally like this: Him and a room full of big bald bodies, all staring at him and talking.

“Simmer down!” the captain roared, and gradually the uproar in the room quieted. “You listen close, y'hear.  This here's Rocket.  For the next seven days you, Braal,” he pointed at a grease-stained Shi'ar, “Yer working for him, and yer whole engineerin' crew too.  He says jump, you ask how high. Anybody else he needs, you're workin' for him too. An' I better not hear that you didn't.”

The chief engineer was brave enough to speak up.  Rocket had to respect him for that. “Cap'n, we got it under control.”

“No ya don't Braal.  You know well as I do you got this ship patched together.  We got Kree drives, half the hull is Skrull and we're not sure part of it isn't actually skrulls, and those two bits are still fightin' the last Kree-Skrull War. Then we got that computer core from that wrecked Badoon cruiser and that's not countin' the Shi'ar and Rigellian bits.  Whole ship's fightin' itself and you know it. An' I hear tell this little guy is the best tinkerer anyone's ever seen.”

“One week!” roared the captain. He carried on haranguing the crew but Rocket wasn't listening.  All these disparate parts working together?  How were the interfaces working at all?  His little clawed hands itched to get into the circuits and see how they had it wired together.  Triger should have led with that.  He would have done it for free.

Well, not free. But cheaper. And then there was the other thing.

The chief engineer approached and Rocket shook his hand.  “I can't wait to see how you got all this tech working together. You must have a hell of a team.”

The Shi'ar blinked, as astonished as Quill or the rest of the Guardians would be by Rocket's respectful tone.  “I look forward to any help you can give us,” the engineer said. His expression said maybe this won't be so bad after all.

But at the same time Rocket was looking the rest of the crew over. So many pirates, Ravagers, assholes.  Some he could work with, he was sure. But a whole lot of them looking down their noses or assorted facial appendages at the little freak.  And all of them ordered to do what he wanted?

He foresaw a pressing need for crewmen to muck out the ship's sanitation system, to squeeze through vents. To form human pyramids so he could get at high bits of work.  And an awful lot of them had tasty cybernetics bits or metal implants he just knew would be needed for repairs.  A lot of them were going to be hopping, squinting, or gumming their food very soon.

Rocket allowed himself a polite smile, but repressed the urge to rub his hands together and grin.  This was going to be fun.

[niyari-to-kitsune-blog]

SNS Summer Week 2017 Day 5 Prompt: Family

Title: A Day in the Life Alternate Link: AO3

- - -

Dark, bleary eyes slowly opened to the dimly lit room.  It was oddly quiet this morning.  Was something wrong?  Pft, of course that would be his first thought.. Traces of a dream he couldn’t quite recall flickered on the outskirts of his memory, before disappearing completely as the sound of the glass door being slid open echoed throughout the near-silent room. A shock of blond hair appeared, dull in the first traces of morning light that seeped through the doorway.  Blue eyes turned to catch his, widening. “Sasuke?  I’m sorry – did I wake you?”  He whispered, as if the man he addressed might not actually be awake. “What time is it?”  The raven murmured, raising a hand up from beneath the warm covers to brush back a lock of hair that had stuck to his forehead sometime throughout the night. “Mmm, prolly a quarter past 6?”  The blond hummed, quietly shutting the door behind him as he made his way back towards the bed, where Sasuke had pushed himself to a half-sitting position. “The alarm didn’t go off..”  He frowned, his eyes trailing towards the traitorous object sitting on their bed stand. “I turned it off.”  Naruto quickly intervened, preventing the clock’s early demise at the hands of the Uchiha.  “Thought I’d let you get a little extra sleep while you could.”  He smiled softly, scratching the back of his head. It wasn’t like the raven to sleep in though.  Even if his alarm hadn’t gone off, it was only a short matter of time until his internal alarm would go off instead, telling him to wake up for the day.  There wasn’t really much around that.  Before he had a chance to tell the other that it wasn’t necessary, there was a loud slam of a door heard from down the hallway. “Ah, one of ‘em’s up already.”  The Hokage just chuckled, moving to stand from his previous seat on the side of the bed, the mattress becoming lighter as he stood. “I should probably go get breakfast started.”  He leaned over, planting a quick kiss to Sasuke’s temple before making his way towards the bedroom door.  Sasuke just hmm’d in response, pulling himself from the warm bed and making his way to the attached bathroom.  In the hallway, he could hear his husband quietly scolding whom he assumed was their youngest child, who had a bad habit of being unnecessarily noisy - a trait clearly taken from their equally unnecessarily noisy father. Taking his time, the recently ex-Anbu captain went about relieving himself before brushing his teeth and washing his face for the day.  He’d been easily less than 10 minutes, but by the time he’d exited the bathroom, traces of sunlight were already beginning to seep through the balcony door, the soft glow illuminating the cool, hardwood floor of the bedroom. No sooner than was he dressed, his bedroom door slid open, a bright tuft of orange hair, nearly matching his father’s in intensity, stuck its way in.  Cool blue eyes met his almost immediately, and he couldn’t resist the soft smile that melted across his features “You didn’t knock.”  He reminded, and his son quickly apologized.  He knew his kids were pretty good at this, but often let their guards down when they knew their parents weren’t in the same room together.  Still, manners. “Haha says it’s time for breakfast.”  His thumb immediately went to his mouth, something the boy had been growing out of, but still did when he became nervous. “Don’t let him hear you call him that.”  Sasuke nodded, moving to the door where his son moved aside for him.  He leaned down, gently knocking the red-head’s hand away before kissing his head.  “Don’t suck your thumb.” “I’m nooot.”  The boy fussed, pulling away and quickly turning to trot back down the hall, just slow enough so that his father couldn’t fault him for running inside as well. Amused, the eldest Uchiha followed him, pleasantly assaulted by the smell of food as he entered the bustling kitchen - the heart of their home.  Yuki was at the counter, helping Naruto with the finishing touches of breakfast, while his youngest son hustled over to plop down next to his twin, who was already patiently seated at the table. “Don’t break the furniture, Kyou.”  The blond spoke, never missing a beat as he quickly poured egg over steaming bowls of rice, handing them one at a time to Yuki, who helped carry them to the table. “It’s not broken.”  Kyousuke countered, sticking out his tongue at his dad’s back. “It will be if you keep jumping on it like that.”  Sasuke shot him a glance before taking his seat at the end of the table, conveniently placed right next to his rambunctious three-year-old. Kyousuke pouted, but quieted down once his food was set in front of him.  “Itadakimasu~” He sing-songed, digging into his meal.  Yuki finished setting the table and climbed around to his seat on the opposite end of the bench that rounded out their breakfast nook.  Naruto poured tea into small cups set around the table, save for Kyou’s place, where he’d already set a cup of juice. “Coffee?”  Sasuke asked, and Naruto just smiled, a cup already appearing in his hand.  “Gotcha covered.”  The raven smiled in thanks, sipping it and humming his pleasure as he noted the fresh lemon in it.  His dobe seemed to always know when he needed the black stuff. Naruto sat down at the table last, a small gap between him and Yuki on the bench as they all began to eat. “Where’s Ayumi?”  He asked, a dark brow raising curiously at said missing resident. “Ah, she left early with her friends.”  Naruto spoke after chewing his food - a lesson he’d been forced to abide by since having kids, much to his chagrin. “This early?  Did she eat?”  He frowned, glancing at the clock that hung on the kitchen wall, noting that classes didn’t start for at least another 45 minutes, and the academy was only a 15 minute walk, tops. Naruto just waved his hand.  “She had some toast, no worries.  You know how she’s been - it’s fine.” “She should have at least waited to walk with her brother.”  Sasuke frowned, motioning his head towards Yuki, who sat across from him. “I can walk by myself.”  Yuki piped in, looking up from his tea. “I know you can; that’s not the point.” “I don’t mind.” “I know, but your older sibling should take care of you.” “I don’t need taking care of - I’m safe, I promise.” Sasuke sighed.  It wasn’t like Yuki to talk back, but he knew he was only trying to reassure him.  It wasn’t so much his safety he was concerned about, so much as it was that Yuki might feel left out. “I know you are.  I trust you most to be safe.”  He praised, letting their middle child know he wasn’t upset with him.  The white-haired boy smiled at that. “Why do you trust him most?”  Kyou looked up from his half eaten food. “Because your brother is very mature for his age.”  Naruto chimed in, leaning over the small table to wipe the rice from his face.  “Be neater with your food.” “You’re one to talk, dobe.”  Sasuke smirked before taking a bite of the leftover veggies they’d had from last night’s dinner. “Hey!  I’m not messy!” “Mhm.” “I’m not!” “. . .” “Teme, I--” “Can I have soy sauce?” Black and blue eyes immediately looked over to their second youngest son, who had been quiet up to this point. “Sure, Katsu.”  Naruto immediately smiled warmly before standing to fetch it.  Sasuke inwardly questioned if the boy had only intervened to avoid conflict, seeing as he didn’t typically like salty things.  Katsutoshi was a clever one, and he smiled at him, the boy only shyly looking down before the blond returned. “Want me to pour it for you?”  Naruto offered, and Katsutoshi quickly nodded.  There had been a few soy sauce disasters in the house, and his dad knew he didn’t like it very much to begin with.  The blond helped drizzled a small amount over his rice before setting the brown liquid aside. “Baby.”  Kyousuke elbowed his twin.  “I could pour my own soy sauce.” “Don’t tease your brother.”  Sasuke swatted his hand, causing the boy to huff dramatically. “It’s not my fault he can’t even pour his own sauce!” “I can to.”  Katsu countered. “Then why’d you have Haha do it?” “Kyousuke, don’t call me that.”  Naruto intervened. “Sorry.” There was a brief moment of silence as the twins spaced themselves apart on the bench, eyeing one another. “I’m done.  Thanks for the food.”  Yuki announced, not waiting for Naruto to get up before taking his now empty bowl and sliding under the table.  Moving over to the sink, he went about washing the few dishes used for prepping breakfast that morning.  It was Tuesday, and Ayumi and Yuki typically took turns throughout the week doing the dishes, save for Sundays where Naruto and Sasuke would switch off. “Do you want me to walk you to school?”  Sasuke offered, also moving to stand, taking his bowl and plate over to the sink. “That’s okay.”  Yuki shook his head. The Uchiha stared a moment longer, but said nothing else. Naruto and the twins took their time eating, and Sasuke offered to finish the rest of the dishes so he could head to class. “I’m off!”  Yuki shouted over his shoulder. “Have a good day.”  Naruto and Sasuke mirrored. No sooner had the door closed - “When can I go to the academy?”  Kyou chirped, wriggling in his seat. “When you’re older.”  Sasuke spoke as he cleared the counter.  “Finish your food.” Kyousuke stilled, going back to eating his breakfast.  Two bites later, he looked up again. “How long is that?” “When you’re tall enough to wash the dishes by yourself.”  Naruto chuckled, standing now and adding his dish to the sink where Sasuke stood before fetching himself another glass of tea. “Tomorrow?” “You don’t grow that fast, stupid.”  Katsu chided. “You don’t know that!” “Don’t fuss you two.  Katsutoshi, don’t tease your brother.  Kyousuke, you can check again tomorrow if you’re tall enough if you’d like.”  Naruto moved over to stand next to the table, a cloth in hand. The boys both nodded in sync.  “Okay.” “Are you done eating?”  The blond motioned to their bowls. “I’m done.”  Kyou nodded, sliding down from his seat. “Take your bowl to your father if you’re done.”  He reminded the boy, thwarting his attempt to escape. “Okaaay.” “Can I save mine?”  Katsu frowned, his chopsticks pressing the rice around in his bowl awkwardly. “Are you not hungry?” He shook his head, red bangs swaying in his face.  “Uh uh.” “Okay.  Make sure to finish the rest at lunch, okay?” “Okay.” The Hokage took his bowl, setting it on the counter and placing wrap over it for later. “Can I go play now?”  The youngest boy tugged at his pants leg. The blond tilted his head towards the cloth he’d left on the table.  “Wipe down the table and then you can go play.” “Okay~”  He quickly went over to the table, where Katsu was excusing himself. “Don’t miss anything.” “Okayyy.” Naruto just chuckled at his youngest’s response, ruffling his wily orange locks. “You should be get heading out too.”  Sasuke spoke, wiping his hands dry on a dish towel now that he’d finished up the rest of the dishes. The blond just groaned, mumbling “yes, yes” under his breath. Sasuke smirked, sneaking a peck onto Naruto’s whiskered cheek. Kyousuke made a noise, sticking his tongue out at his parents’ antics, but neither of them paid him any mind.  Katsutoshi had already wandered off, likely to play with his toys in the living area. “Think you can handle the twins while I’m gone?” “I think I can manage until you get home for lunch.”  Sasuke rolled his eyes.  “Who’s dropping them off at Sakura’s today?” “Mm, I can do it.  I had to talk to Lee anyways!”  Naruto chirped, heading over the grab his cloak where it hung by the door. “I’m leaving now!”  He called over his shoulder. “Be safe!” A trio of voices called after him, and he couldn’t help that smile that spread across his face. Sasuke made eye contact with him once more, the two speaking in their own unspoken language.  They communicated with each other in a way that transcended words, in a way only they could. This was just another morning.  Another day in the life. Neither of them would have it any other way.