#the reason why I have low confidence in winning at all is because I've heard all the votes picks are randomized

[cherry-blossom-qf]

With this year's Kirby OC Popularity contest happening, I'm thinking about joining the fun next year (if I actually feel comfortable enough to do it)

I think my boi Oakley would get past the first round of voting at least. Just getting passed the third round would be enough of a confidence booster for me. (tho I doubt I'd even get that far)

I didn't join this year cuz I didn't think Oakley would count as an OC (cuz he's the Master Crown reformed as a person, so I didn't think that was "original" enough), and I had no confidence in that OC Chilly Therapist I made a year ago would get far cuz I barely use him in anything.

...Eh, only time will tell.

[dutchdread]

No offense bro, but why are you always so protective of Cloud? No disrespect to you or anything but I've heard quite a bit of different opinions and theories on Cloud myself and I do agree with the people who say that he takes Tifa for granted. Going through trauma in the past is not really an excuse for his behavior. He also does act like he's the only one who has suffered in his life. Do you have other reason to defend him other than the fact that you "relate" to him? Just wondering.

Sorry for the late reply, my life has basically left no room for hobbies these past months. Your question is hard to reply to because I am not sure what you mean when you say I am protective of him. I guess you mean I defend his actions? Specifically in ACC? Firstly let me state that there is a difference between being a good character and being a nice character, there is also a difference between agreeing with someones actions, or just understanding them. Personally, I never really liked Cloud, especially not when I was younger. A lot of my defense of Cloud doesn't come from me personally liking him, but from me thinking he's a good character. I also think Snape is a good character, but I don't like his actions, and I don't defend them, although I still understand them to a certain degree. I should also say that as I started to understand Clouds character more, I also started liking HIM a bit more, although I still don't like the things he did, and would very likely not be friends with him. But I do understand why he did what he did and cannot be too critical of him because of that. You've probably heard that before you judge someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That's great advice, if you want to judge someone, you should imagine what it would be like to be them, however, I've noticed that too often when people try to walk a mile in someone elses shoes, they refuse to take their own shoes off first. They don't think "what would it be like to be him", they think "what would I do in that position". But Cloud is not you, and you cannot judge him by how you would act, you've not gone through the same things he has, your thought patterns aren't the same etc. This matters because too often I see people judging Clouds actions in ACC, and establishing his motivations by saying things that boil down to "If I were in his position, I would only do those actions if I loved Aerith/didn't love Tifa/whatever". But they're not Cloud, and they're not understanding how Cloud thinks, and that it's different from how THEY think. But like you said, I do see some recognizable elements of myself in Cloud, which is why I do understand his actions, and why I feel relatively certain in defending them, because I see them coming from a good place. It's common for me to react to things in a way that others find counter-intuitive. Let me give you an example, my brother once was mad at me because I had not told him my girlfriend of several years and I had broken up while I did tell a random stranger at the pub. He said that he felt like he wasn't important to me if I told a random stranger but not him. The truth was the exact opposite, I love my brother, and could not bear to face him for some reason, as I told him: "if not caring enough was the problem, then I wouldn't have told a random stranger". I see people exhibit that same lack of understanding when discussing Clouds actions, where they feel like his actions must be the sign of him just being a bad person, or not caring. But ask yourself what is more likely, that Square-enix wants their hero to be a bad person, or that you simply are misunderstanding the character? I understand why people don't get Cloud, Cloud suffers from obvious mental health issues, and mental health issues simply are not something that the general public understands, even today. Not only that, but Cloud went through the most insane series of traumatic events anyone could ever imagine. He had an alien parasite in him, saw his entire town murdered before his eyes, then saw Zack murdered in front of his eyes, then saw Aerith murdered in front of his eyes, and just when he started living a peaceful life he is forced to watch his child succumb to sickness in front of his eyes, and then he finds he himself is dying. All this on the psyche of a man who had had a fear of failure ever since he was a child, spent most of his life essentially in war, and had a severe identity crisis as well. Do you think you can honestly judge him by going "that's not what I would have done"? Would that not be incredibly

presumptuous? Have you suffered from depression as a result of severe post-war PTSD and a lifelong feeling of inadequacy combined with a fear of failure and the belief that many of your loved ones died because you failed and were inadequate? Because that's the context in which you have to view Cloud when watching Advent Children. Saying "Going through trauma in the past is not really an excuse for his behavior" is just incredibly short-sighted, your behavior is determined by who you are, and who you are is determined by what you go through in the past. You can't expect a broken child to become a well-adjusted adult when being a well-adjusted adult is the result of having a normal childhood.

I also don't want to cause offense, but this really is a mindset you should change, because this mindset is one of the most pervasive and damaging ones in our society, it's the one that probably bothers me most when I hear it because it makes zero sense. It's like breaking a robots self-repair unit, and then being angry at it on the grounds that the self-repair unit should have fixed it. It's also very insensitive in general, it's the equivalent of saying "why are you depressed, just stop being depressed", people don't choose to be depressed, people don't choose to have a fear of failure. People don't choose their emotions, they're just there. They can be influenced by behavior over time, sure, but behavior is equally influenced by who you are and your emotions, which, as mentioned before, is determined for a large part by your past. People don't just "snap out of it". They fight and fight and fight, and sometimes they win and break out of the spiral, and sometimes they lose and it breaks them.

FFVII, and especially Advent children, is all about that struggle, and during those struggles you will have high-points, and low-points. FFVII shows all of those. It shows Cloud trying, it shows Cloud wanting, it shows Cloud failing, but it also, ultimately, shows Cloud prevailing. Judging Cloud for not breaking out of the spiral by the time of Advent children, when he was mentally only barely 18 years old, and when he started at the worst place anyone could ever imagine, is just not reasonable. It's the modern day equivalent of "let them eat cake", something that can only be said from the place of privilege of not knowing what the struggles of the people you're critiquing are actually like. So having that out of the way, lets look at Clouds actions from the perspective of Cloud. Cloud is a young boy, and he's in love with the girl next door, he wants to get her to notice him. One day said girl walks up a mountain and he follows, she falls off a bridge and ends in a coma. Cloud followed her because he's in love with her, and he gets the blame from the adults. Cloud internalizes this, and its important to imagine what this must be like for a child, to have the adults all tell him it's his fault that the person he loves ended up hurt. "your fault", "your fault". Afterwards Cloud starts thinking Tifa hates him and starts acting out. I think this is a good moment to point out btw that this child has no father figure. This is the start of his feelings of failure and inadequacy, he blames himself for not being able to protect Tifa, failure number 1, he thinks that if he were strong, he'd be able to protect her, he thinks that if he were like Sephiroth, then even Tifa would have to notice him. Now until this time Cloud is not an asshole, he's a bit of a rebellious kid yes, but notice that he's not a bad kid as much as he's a kid who wants to protect someone, has no direction, and is acting out. So Cloud thinks he's not good enough, but he leaves town confident that he'll become good enough, and even makes a promise to Tifa. All this follows logically from what we know about Cloud, and tells us a lot about how deeply seated these feelings are. Becoming Soldier wasn't a small thing, not some small passion project that he just came up with one day, it's the result of the things that happened in his childhood and he left everything behind make it so. He told the girl he loved, he promised, he boasted. And then he failed. Failure number 2. He comes back to Nibleheim and can't bear to look Tifa in the eye and admit that he couldn't do it, that he's a failure. His entire life so far has revolved around this and he wasn't good enough. So here we have Cloud, not in a great mindset, thinking he's a failure, and what happens? His entire town is murdered by the person he admired, someone he worked with. His Mother is killed, and Tifa, the girl he PROMISED to protect, gets slashed open so badly that apparently she needed to have her ribcage reinforced with metal. I think we can all agree that this by itself would be enough to potentially scar a person for life. (Cloud, not Tifa XD) So what's next for the boy who left town in order to become a hero? Well, he gets captured and experimented on for 4 years, during which his mind and sense of identity is bombarded with memories and knowledge of the lifestream in the form of mako, muddying up his thoughts. Cloud already had a weak sense of self as a result of his childhood, it's why he failed to enter Soldier and now this distaste for who he is makes him extra susceptible to Jenovas influence. The next thing Cloud sees, (he didn't consciously experience the 4 years of mind-fuckery) is his best friend getting killed trying to protect him, because Cloud wasn't strong enough. Failure #3. At this point, in Clouds mind the list of people dead because he could not protect them, because he's a failure, include his mother, his entire town, his best friend, and as far as he knows, the girl he loves. This is his life. His mind is broken, he hates himself, he doesn't want to be himself,

he has a mind-altering parasite inside of him trying to adjust his identity and Clouds just goes "I reject this reality and constitute my own". And why wouldn't he? Why wouldn't he want to live in a fantasy world where he wasn't a failure, where he made it into soldier, where he was cool and successful and not a disappointing failure? Zack tells him to be his living legacy and Cloud goes with it, then he runs into Tifa, Jenova adjusts Cloud further based on Tifas memories of them and rejoined with the girl for whom he joined Soldier Cloud is unconsciously all too willing to play the part. FFVII starts and it doesn't take long for the cracks in his fake persona to show, he meets Aerith, and becomes her bodyguard. He gets to be the hero he always wanted to be. But then, even as "Cloud strife, soldier first class", Cloud is still a failure, the plate still drops, killing thousands, he gives Sephiroth the black materia, he beats up Aerith, and ultimately, fails to save her as well. Tifa was the First Failure, and Aerith was the Final Failure. Even as a soldier, Cloud still couldn't save anyone, he loses even more faith in himself, he doesn't know who he is, he doesn't trust himself, and then when he also loses Tifas trust in who he is, he just breaks and gives over to Jenova/Sephiroth. Even Hojo calls him a failure. Cloud feels like a nobody. Now mentally weakened, under the influence of jenova cells, he gives Sephiroth the black materia AGAIN, and meteor is summoned. Another entry on the long list of moments Cloud can look back on in shame later on in life. He falls into the lifestream and again his psyche is under attack. We know what happens afterwards, Tifa finds him, cares for him, and saves him through his feelings for her. Cloud realizes who he is, realizes he's weak, and goes after Sephiroth without lying to himself. In the end he defeats Sephiroth mentally and is supposedly rid of his direct influence.

But that doesn't mean that this mentally 17 year old is now fine, we should remember these events when analyzing ACC. Cloud has been in constant fighting/war/peril ever since he left home as a child, and is now a traumatized 17 year old in a 21 year olds body. Novels and other materials give us an insight into how Cloud thinks during these times, and how he thinks about himself. We hear him say that he's going to live because that's the only way he can atone for his sins. He talks about wanting to change, and about believing he can change because he now has Tifa. He's a man (boy) who just exited war, and wants to be positive, but is still clearly blaming himself. We see that this initially goes well, we are told that Cloud experiences peace and happiness that he's never experienced before. We're also told about the things that make it go badly, when he has to deliver flowers to the ancient city for instance. While Cloud regained the sense of who he was the belief that he wasn't good enough, that he was a failure, was never solved, if anything it was put on hold until he got his memories back, and now he is forced to deal with it.

While he is no longer directly manipulated by Sephiroth he's still suffering from PTSD and, most notably, survivors guilt. He blames himself for the deaths of Zack and Aerith in particular, and starts visiting the church. Now most people might think it's natural to avoid places that make you feel bad about yourself, but that's not how a depressed person thinks, Cloud thinks he deserves to feel badly he WANTS to punish himself, he WANTS to feel bad. He's ashamed of the moments where he's carefree and laughing with Tifa. Why should he get to be happy when Aerith and Zack are dead because of him? He shouldn't be happy, he should be in pain, he should remember them, not doing so would be an insult to their memories, he must never forget how he failed them! That's how Cloud is thinking. We know of course that this is non-sense, Aerith and Zack wouldn't want this, if anything it's this mindset that is tarnishing the memories of Aerith and Zack, but that's not how a mentally unwell person thinks. Cloud wants to atone, and thinks he finds salvation in Denzel, whom he finds at Aeriths church. He thinks that by saving this life, he can, in some way, make up for all the death he caused. Tifa has a similar belief when she finds out Denzels parents died in the plate crash. And when Denzel joins the family, and Cloud has path towards redemption in his mind, things start getting better again. Because this is the cause of the problems Cloud is having in ACC. When Nojima says:

first off, there’s the premise that things won’t go well between Tifa and Cloud, and that even without Geostigma or Sephiroth this might be the same

This is the conflict he's talking about, he's not saying "Tifa and Cloud are incompatible, it has nothing to do with Sephiroth", he's saying "if Sephiroth didn't show up during Advent children, Cloud and Tifa would still be having problems because Cloud is going through survivors guilt."

But the good times don't last, Denzel has Geostigma and Cloud cannot find a cure, Denzel....is going to die. Cloud, has failed again. Not only that, but Cloud catches Geostigma....Cloud is going to die. And THIS is why Cloud leaves in Advent children. And you have to look at this as Cloud. Cloud said he was going to live to atone for his sins, but instead he's going to die. He won't atone for his sins, even worse, he's going to leave Tifa and Marlene behind. He failed again. He couldn't protect Denzel, he potentially brought an infectious disease into their house as well. Literally all Cloud can think about is that literally everything he's ever tried has ended in failure, everyone he's ever tried to protect, he's failed at. Do you understand how easy it would be for a person like this to fall into the trap of thinking "I deserve to die", "I don't want Tifa and Marlene to see me die", "Tifa and Marlene are better off without me anyway", "they'd be happier if I weren't here". Etc. Now we know this is nonsense, but come on, how many instances have you heard of depressed people genuinely believing that their loved ones would be happier and better off if they just didn't exist? However, throughout the movie, Zack, Tifa, and Aerith, all confront Cloud, and urge him to not give up. Cloud eventually does try again, and ultimately finds redemption not by being stuck in the past, but by letting the past rest and be beautiful (a lesson Cleriths unfortunately never learned). "I never blamed you you know, not once" "I want to be forgiven. By who?" "Isn't it about time you did the forgiving?" In the end, Cloud moves on, and therefore, so do Zack and Aerith. Aerith and Zack walk into the light, Cloud plants flowers on Zacks grave, and lets Zacks buster sword rest in Aeriths church, now no longer rusting, but shining. Instead of the past being a negative reminder, Cloud lets the past be beautiful. Cloud was doing Aerith and Zack a disservice by remembering them the way he did, because it was ruining his life, it wasn't a good thing, but it did come from a good place, from a good man whose ashamed of not being good enough. Yes, it harmed Tifa, people going through these things often do hurt those around them, but it's not because they're bad people, or even weak, but because people are imperfect and Cloud has gone through hell, both internally, and externally. Are his actions really that weird or deplorable? "He didn't even go save the kids!" Yes, he's hesitant about saving the kids, why shouldn't he be? Everyone Cloud tried to protect or save, ended up maimed or worse, or as Cloud puts it: "I can't even save myself". "He left Tifa alone!" Yes, he thinks he's going to waste away and die, can you blame him for not wanting to put Tifa through that and for thinking she'd be better off without him? "He drinks!" Wouldn't you?! Who wouldn't want to forget that stuff? But in the end, He's only gone for about a week, he never intended to harm Tifa, he never physically harmed Tifa or cheated on her, his entire life revolved around wanting to be better for Tifa and blaming himself when he wasn't good enough, how is it reasonable to say this man takes Tifa for granted when the fact that he thinks he has to BE BETTER in order to be worthy of being with her has been a constant throughout his entire life and story? He DOESN'T take Tifa for granted, that's why he's beating himself up, that's why he leaves, not because he thinks he's better than her, or that he'll always have her, or that she'll follow him like a dog, or something like that. But because of the opposite, because he thinks HE is not good enough, that SHE would be better of without him. Saying Cloud takes Tifa for granted, is honestly, simply, wrong. It's 180 degrees the opposite of what is happening in FFVII, the biggest constant in Clouds life, is that he doesn't take Tifa for granted, and I don't understand how anyone could argue otherwise.

[fancybehaviour]

Daddy Woes

Summary:

Harry is a good husband; so he sends his wife out on a much needed girls day. James Sirius is a naughty boy; so he sends his father down an anxiety spiral.

Notes:

Written for @harryandginuary BINGO!

Prompt I 23: “Why are there zucchini all over our kitchen?” “Do you not like zucchini?”

The sun had sunk low on the horizon, and in a few minutes would dissapear for the night. About dinner time, thought Ginny, as she made her way home after a long enjoyable day, her heels clicking rhythmically against the cobble. As she walked, she rewinded the highlights of her girls day out with Hermione and Luna in her head. Ginny had had an absolute hoot meeting her friends.She was sure she would continue to reminisce until the next time she could have such a day; after all being the mother of a seven month old meant that such trips were a rarity and she cherished them a lot.

Her legs ached from all the walking around she did while she helped Luna shop for her trip and she was looking forward to taking the nice long bath her husband had promised to draw her. She let out a sigh as she thought of sinking her aching legs in a hot bath, her husband perched at the edge of her bathtub as she gave him an exaggerated recount of the day's events peppered with silly nonsensical jokes, him guffawing at them all even though he had already heard them all. He did that a lot these days, laughing. Especially since the birth of their beautiful boy.

She felt a swell of love rise in her as she thought of her family; her seven month old baby son who could scream the house down and her loving husband who tried his best to give her respite from the said infant. 

"Harry?" she called, pushing the front door to close and locking it. "James darling? I'm back home. Did you boys have fun?". She continued heading towards the kitchen where she could hear noises, taking care not to trip over the many toys that were strewn about their living room. Courtesy of their many relatives and friends, James seemed to have an amount of toys that seemed absolutely ridiculous to Ginny who couldn't remember seeing so many toys even at the Burrow, that had been the residence of seven children. Making the matter even more ridiculous was the fact that James's favourite toys were actually the copper pots and pans that he liked to bang about making noise.

It was only when she reached the kitchen and took in the desecration that it was  that she realised that perhaps today, she might be the only one in the Potter household who might have had any semblance of fun.

Eyes darting from her slightly whimpering son in his high chair, to the trail of food spills surrounding him to the multicoloured stains adorning her husband's apron and his miserable face, she decided to address a whole other issue: “Why are there zucchini all over our kitchen?” 

“Do you not like zucchini?”, asked Harry, in a tone that might have been wry if it weren't for the long suffering expression on his face.

"Absolutely not. Can't believe you thought I did, the honor of questionable taste will forever be Hermione's ."

He gave a laugh that seemed more for her benefit (making Ginny wonder if parenthood had done a number on her humour too) and set about cleaning up. Ginny walked into the kitchen and lifted the whimpering toddler into her arms. She pressed a loud smacking kiss on both of his chubby, chubby cheeks, and rocked him gently, seemingly this was all that was needed for his whimpers seemed to slowly subside. She could feel Harry's eyes on them as he continued to clean up the mess; she remained silent, waiting for him to tell her what was weighing on his mind.

Instead he said, "He missed you," so she turns around to see him, looking at them softly with a look on his face that Ginny could only describe as melancholy. It reminded Ginny of her fifth year, when he looked at her like that, like she was everything he wanted but was unattainable.

It seems she was going to have to demand answers after all. Very well.

"Alright Potter, spill. Whatever happened today that has got you relapsing into your teenage angst?"

He laughed, and this time it was a genuine one; BINGO!

Pulling a chair at their kitchen table and settling himself down he said " James kept crying after you left. A lot." 

"Uh-huh. Nothing he hasn't done before. "

"Yeah. Sure. But today I just realised.."

"Yeah?" She asked, settling down into the chair opposite him, shifting James into her lap who seemed very fascinated with playing with her hair.

Harry watched him for a moment and then continued, "I know James crying is nothing new. Yet for some reason, it just bothered me today, you know."

"Uh-huh."

"It made me feel like a bad parent." he confesses, looking a bit surprised himself, perhaps at that he had spoken it out loud, yet continued with "I have been feeling like it a lot these days."

There.The dam had finally broken. Ginny had long since suspected that Harry was having troubles with parenting. She had caught him brooding about with a tea mug in his hands instead of going back to bed after whatever ungodly hour James Sirius had decided to wake them up. 

She tried many times,to get him to talk, but between her own exhaustion, an infant with a strong pair of lungs and Harry's stubborn refusal to burden Ginny with anymore than she was already dealing with nothing had come out of it. But now that he seemed to want to talk, Ginny did not stop him.

"I just… "he paused, and swallowed, something he did when he was overcome with emotion but wanted to bite it down.

"I want to do this right. I have never wanted so badly to do something right in my whole life. Family..it means everything to me and I want to be a good father but I'm afraid I am failing."

"You are an amazing father, Harry."

He shook his head. 

"Am I?"

"Yes" Ginny agreed furiously.

Harry looked into her eyes at that and she hoped he could read her, that he could see himself from her eyes, how she fell in love with him more and more everyday as she saw more and more of dad Harry.

Looking away he continued, "I sure don't feel like it. Today, while you were away, all Jamie wanted was his Mum. I tried everything, feeding him your milk, his favourite toys - yes the pans and pots, we are lucky we have no neighbours- feeding him all sorts of baby food and yet nothing seemed to work for long before he started wailing again. "

Ginny replied, "I don't want to sound like I'm being condescending, but this is the only way I can seem to put it- he's a toddler Harry. No one knows why toddlers do what they do. If he was fussy with you today and missed me I doubt it's because he has decided you were a bad parent."

"I know that - rationally.But the part of me - the same part of me that gets jealous of blokes trying to chat you up or worries that Ron is going to make a new best friend  - that part of me makes me think I have been a bad father."

"Today when Jamie kept crying for you, and I wasn't able to calm him down or feed him any of the amalgamation of baby foods I made- it just felt like I was in over my head, without a clue about what was doing. I might as well have been one of those dads who say they are 'babysitting' their kids and leave them up to their mothers and that's not- I never want to be that."

"I don't just want to do this right, I want be good at this. Like I am at Quidditch or catching dark wizards. I know I can catch a snitch, I know how to find a criminal on the run from law. Just like that, I want to be good at taking care of my son...but today, everything I did kept failing and that made me think.."

"James dented your confidence, didn't he," she said softly.

"He did," Harry agrees looking over at the boy who was happily sucking on his toes, completely ignorant of the spiral he had sent his father through.

Lacing her fingers with his, she said,"My mum told me, with parenting, there's bad days and good days, but you've got to understand that having bad days is not equivalent to being a bad parent."

"I imagine she had a lot of those, with seven of you," replied Harry wryly.

"Two of them Fred and George", Ginny reminded him.

They sat for a moment in silence both lost in thought.

"Gin-"

 "Harry" ,they both started at the same time, and Harry motioned for her to go on.

"I was just thinking - I had help with this. My mum, Fleur, Angelina, my teammates - I had people to talk this with. To reassure me that I wasn't doing things wrong. But you don't have that."

"No. But I've got you."

"You do," she agrees. "But also, maybe you should talk to people too. Maybe my dad or Bill or George"

He snorts at that. "If anyone had told me ten years ago that I'd be talking parenting with George.." he trails off as Ginny gives a light chuckle.

"Seriously though," she says again,       "Give it a try. I'm always here though. To listen. Or if you wanna get competitive over who is the worse parent".

Grinning, he says "I fed him courgettes Gin. He hated it. I'm winning this game." and she smiles at him, simply happy to see him happy.

"Oh and what is it?", she asks, and at his quizzical raise of eyebrows she elaborates, "that you wanted to say? You wanted to say something but you let me go first."

At that he gives her a wide smile and says, 

"Just that I love you."

[jimlingss]

I've been a silent reader for at least a couple of years!! Huge fan!! I always come back to your stories! 💜 As for ideas for stories, maybe an au set in joseon or goryeo eras, or maybe a e2l of some sort idk. Best of luck to you!! Hope you have an awesome day!

Anonymous said: feeling a yoongi royalty au? 👀

Anonymous said: *gasp* you’re doing request? 🥺 can I request an arranged marriage with jimin or yoongi? btw I love your student council series so much 💕

↳ A Fire Flower

3.4k words || 1% Fluff, 99% Angst || Min Yoongi || Historical!AU

Warnings: Murder and gruesome detailes

You run. 

“Princess! Princess! Wait!” The servants behind you are shouting, grabbing their gowns in fistfuls, shuffling their feet forward. But they’re far too slow.  

You glance behind you, laughing and sneaking off to the left and then the right. The whole line of your servants pass by your hiding spot and when it’s silent again, you slip into the East pavilion. You make your way past the gardens to the guards standing by the stables. 

You approach with your spine straight and your chin high in the air. The guards automatically bow their heads. “Princess.” 

“Give me your sword.” You motion to the left guard, but they exchange expression with one another. “Hurry!” 

“But Princess—” 

“You dare go against my order?! Do you know who I am?!” Your voice booms. “I am Emperor Yin and Queen Seo’s daughter. If you dare to go against my orders, you are going against the orders of my father!” 

The lowly guards fall onto their knees. “We wouldn’t dare, princess.” 

A smirk pulls on your lips. “Then hand me your sword now.” 

Once it’s in your reach, you unsheathed it. The blade shines against the sunlight and metal hisses as you take it out fully, grasping at the handle tightly. You try to give it a swing and hum in satisfaction. 

You point at the right guard. “You there. Fight me.” 

“Spare me, princess!” He falls onto his knees again, this time with his head pressed to the dirt. You roll your eyes. “I would never dare to fight someone of noble blood. Your father would never forgive me.” 

“Are you trying to make me angry?” You laugh mockingly, pulling up your long sleeve. “I’ve had training before. You won’t harm me so easily.” 

“Princess…” The stupid guard is relentless as he is irritating. 

“Princesses shouldn’t play with such sharp toys when they don’t know it’s a weapon,” a low voice speaks and you know that familiar timbre anywhere. You turn around to address a man with black hair. His eyes are narrow, reminiscent to that of a sly cat, his lips thin.  

Min Yoongi, son of a minister and part of the Min clan — your betrothed. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I should be asking you that.” He smiles and points to the blade you’re holding. “Don’t you think that’s dangerous?” 

You stare down at it and for a moment you regard how sharp and intimidating it is. Your eyes look back up at him. “It’s not dangerous if I know how to use it.” 

“Well, do you?” 

“You can teach me.” Your eyes glisten. It sounds even better after you say it out loud. So you approach him with your arms behind your back, leaning down, lashes fluttering. “Please?” 

Unfortunately, your coy and cute act doesn’t have much of an effect on him as it does on your father. 

“Shouldn’t a girl like you be doing something else than sword fighting?” Yoongi sighs, but he still unsheathes his own sword. 

You scoff, pointing the tip of the blade at him. “Say that again, and I won’t forgive you. I refuse to go flower viewing or practice calligraphy again.” 

Yoongi wears that arrogant smile of his that you absolutely detest. “You’re confident, aren’t you, princess?” 

“Of course I am. I don’t have any reason not to be.” 

He nods. “Let’s play then — if you can wound me, I’ll convince my father to cancel our engagement.” 

Your eyes are wide before a smile spreads into your face. “I will hold you accountable for your words.” 

“Please, don’t hesitate, Princess.” He waves you over and you run forward, swinging your sword and attacking his neck. But he defends himself instantly with a clang of his sword. 

Yoongi smirks and your own lips fall into a straight line. 

“Ha!” You try another swing. There’s yet another clash of silver blades. 

He’s acting as if he’s entertaining a child and it makes you angrier. With all the strength in your arms, you thrust out your sword. Yet, he deflects it with a simple flick of his wrist. You flash, lurch forward, swing. Yoongi uses one hand, doesn’t even blink, doesn’t even flinch.  

“You will never win against me, princess.” Yoongi smirks. “When will you come to accept that?” 

Your teeth grit. You raise your arms to try to hit him — but you’re interrupted by a roaring voice. 

“What’s going on?!” The servant announces that the Emperor is here and you instantly drop the sword, grinning and running up to him. 

“Father! I didn’t know that you’d be here.” 

He tries not to show that he’s already giving in, that his strict facade is melting at your coos and the way you hug his arm. “I heard you ran away from your lessons again.” 

“Only because they were boring.” Your nose scrunches in distaste. 

“And so you’re out here causing trouble again?” He looks off and the guards fall onto their knees, heads downcasted, already begging for forgiveness. “Who gave her the sword?!” 

You pout. “Father, I asked him to. It’s not their fault. And Yoongi was just teaching me.” “

Your majesty.” Your betrothed gathers his hands together, bowing his head to greet the King. “The princess seemed interested and I was teaching her how to defend herself.” 

The Emperor sighs and nods. “I’m glad there’s someone to look after her.” 

You stomp your foot in indignation. “He doesn’t look after me!” 

“I made sure to go easy on her, your majesty,” Yoongi informs shortly and you gasp in offence, frowning at him. He ignores you, but you see that little smile on his face. You should’ve just skewed him when you had the chance — he’s so infuriating. 

“There, there, don’t be upset.” Your father pats your back, already seeing the way your features were twisted, on the verge of throwing another one of your infamous tantrums. “We can’t always be good at everything.” 

“If I had a proper teacher, I’d be better at it.” 

Your father smiles softly. “Your mother would never allow it. If she knew you were here, she’d be angry. Let’s not make her that way.” 

You pout again, fiddling with the fabric of your extravagant skirt. Yoongi smiles and puts his sword away. “If I may, your majesty, I must go speak to my father.” 

“Of course.” He nods his head, dismissing the younger male and you watch him leave. 

You end up walking with your father, the servants left behind as you stride up the bridge over the river, staring at the flowerbeds. “I see you’ve been close to him these days….” your father notes, giving a knowing smile. 

You tear your eyes away from the flowers — something you never cared much for when there were much more exciting things. “He came out of nowhere to make me angry. We aren’t close!” 

He laughs heartily, nodding his head with his arms behind his back. You brush his dragon robes, how majesty he looks in gold and red. But up close, you realize how old he’s gotten, strands of hair gray, wrinkles marring his expression. You sigh, looking at your own reflection in the water. 

“Must I marry him, father?” 

“Why? Do you not enjoy his company?” 

“It’s not that….I just….I don’t want to be made to do something. I know I’m not allowed, but I want to be able to choose. If the princess of the kingdom cannot even choose her own partner, then who can?” 

“Some things in life you cannot choose. Fighting will bring you more pain. You must only come to accept them,” he says, but you don’t understand what he exactly means. Your father meets your eyes and is firm. “You must. It’s important for us to have ties to the Min clan. Not just for you, but for our kingdom and our people. Sacrifice must be made sometimes.” 

You huff, unable to comprehend why you must have ties with the Min clan. Your father is the Great Emperor — he shouldn’t need anything from anyone. “You only want me to wed to him because he’s the son of the finance minister.” 

“He is also a kind, patient, and highly educated individual. You both have compatible fortunes as well. He will make a good husband and father. There is no one better than him.” 

“You’re better.” You hug his arm and underneath his robes, you can feel his bones. It’s no longer like when you were a child and he could lift you without batting a lash. “Can’t I stay by your side forever? You, mother, Taeho, and I. I don’t have to go anywhere. I don’t have to join another family.” 

Your father laughs joyfully. “You can’t be naive all the time, child. What will happen when I die? Would you really want to be alone with no one to keep you company?” 

“You won’t die for a long time,” you reaffirm. “And I’m sure Taeho wouldn’t mind having me around.” 

“Palace life is difficult, child. I only wish the best for you.” 

“Then reconsider my marriage with Yoongi,” you coax. “Or at least…give me some time. I don’t want to wed him when we barely know each other.” 

It’s silent until he finally makes a noise at the back of his throat. “You’ve been arranged to marry him for years now. Delaying such a promise back will not be an easy one.” 

“It’s not like we’re breaking it,” you tell with a grin. 

Your father nods. “I will reconsider.” 

That’s enough for you to throw your hands in the air and giggle, pulling him in a tight squeeze that garners his chuckles. You might not win against Yoongi in terms of strength, but you have your own ways. 

Little do you know just how dire the consequences are for your selfish wish. 

// 

It’s the middle of the night, a new moon that has the sky blanked in black, that you hear footsteps on the roof of your room. You’re brought out of your slumber, rising to stare at the shadow cast at your door, a mysterious silhouette that paint itself outside.  

You shout, “Who’s there?” 

You gather your blanket to hide your underclothes, screaming at the shadow until it moves. Until it opens the door. And a boy with blanked hair and cat-like eyes greets you. “Yoongi?” 

“We need to go.” He approaches and his sword catches the light, blinding your eyes. 

“What?” 

“Hurry.” He pulls the blanket and grabs your wrist. 

“What are you doing?!” You resist, but he yanks your hand to his chest and you lose your balance, until you’re caught by him, body pressed against his. His gaze is deep and boring into your eyes. The close proximity renders you speechless. 

“There’s no time to explain.” He brings you out of your room, but you’re slowed when you see the orange flames, the smoke curling into the air.  

But what takes your attention isn’t the fire. It’s the red on the walls and paper windows. Stained splotches of red that look like they’ve been sprayed. Blood. 

“What’s going on?” you ask desperately, tears welling in your eyes, voice catching in your throat. 

He hides behind a pillar, peeking you out while keeping you right by his side. “We’re being overthrown by the ministers.” 

“What?” The syllable spills out harshly off your tongue. “How dare they? Where’s my father?!” 

“He’s been captured.” 

Your blood runs cold. Your heart stops beating. Your stomach drops. You feel sick, like you might throw up. But there’s no time for any sort of reaction like that, not when Yoongi pulls you along, running to the next hiding place. 

You stumble on your feet. You’re too slow. 

Someone calls out. “Sir!” 

Yoongi halts. He hesitates. The stranger calls out to him again and there’s a rush of footsteps that follow, clanging of armour. They’re not the palace guards coming to save you. They’re rebels. “Sir?!” 

Yoongi steps away from behind the wall. He drags your body out. He holds your arm up as if you were a prize that was meant to be caught. “I have her.” 

You whirl your head to stare at him, knees trembling.  

Yoongi swallows hard. “Bring her to my father.” 

You’ve been betrayed by your betrothed. You scream his name in agony and rage, spitting it out at the top of your lungs. “Yoongi! Min Yoongi! You son of a bastard! God will damn you! Let me go! Let me go this instant! Do you know who I am?! I am the princess! You all will die! The minute my father gets his hands on you—!” 

Your voice shrieks, tearing from your throat, bloodcurdling. But your defiance and resistance doesn’t last long. You’re pushed and shoved into the throne room, gasping when you see your father, mother, younger brother tied up. Each with a sword pressed to their necks. 

“Y/N!” — “Sister!” 

You sob, unable to run to them when you’re being held back, physically restrained. 

The man standing beside your father turns around. He wears a smirk you find all too familiar, his eyes cat-like and narrowed into you. Yoongi’s father has his arms behind his back, proud that he was the minister who orchestrated this all.  

“How dare you!” 

“Y/N.” Your father is quiet and composed. “It’s okay.” 

You’re shoved onto your knees. Yoongi’s father smiles, walking over slowly to hover above you. “Here’s a sight I’ve never seen before. The entire royal family bowing down to me….and his precious, little daughter so vulnerable.” 

His finger brings up your chin, looking at your face in the dim candlelight. You flinch away to glare. “Heaven will never allow you to rule,” you curse him in spite. “You do not have the divine right—” 

“And you think your father does?” he laughs, mockingly. “Your grandfather won the throne through blood and betrayal. I’m not doing anything different from what he has done. I am merely taking back what should’ve never been yours. For too long, I’ve waited and let this nation suffer. I thought my son could one day save it, but that was a wish too inconceivable. I will not wait anymore. It’s time for it to be brought into a new era of prosperity.” 

“Prosperity?” your mother hisses. “Do not mask your greed for altruism.” 

He scoffs and the corner of his mouth curls. “My greed is not the one to be spoken about, Sowon. You’ve killed and harmed countless girls to achieve the position that you have. Your list of crimes is too long to know.” 

“Don’t speak to my mother that way!” you scream at him, “You are a traitor. You all are.” You face the ministers surrounding you, horrified that they’re content with allowing this to happen, that they merely divert their eyes and stay silent. “And you will pay for your crimes!” 

He chuckles, lifting his hand and instantly, the guards press their swords tighter against your throats. The blade nearly breaks skin and draws blood. 

The minister paces around your father. “Yin, you have been found to have committed treason against the country during your rule, acting against the nation’s interest in order to protect your family, and for this, you will pay with your life.” 

He shuts his eyes as you shriek. Your father merely murmurs, “Protect the crown prince.” 

Your family sobs, tears dripping onto the floor. The minister pulls out the Emperor’s own sword, but instead of decapitating your father’s head from his neck in a single swing, he tosses it on the ground, right in front of you. It clangs horrifically and you wince. 

“Betray your father the same way he has betrayed the nation. Go against your filial duty and your mother and brother’s life will be spared. If not, they will die.” 

A high-pitched shriek rings into your ear, horrified and pained — and it takes a moment until you realize it’s your own. The held blades begin to cut into your throat, into your mother’s and Taeho’s.  

Your eyes widen, shocked, breaths staggering. You’re staring at the silver blade. You don’t notice Yoongi who has run to the entrance of the throne room, his shadow casted on the door.  

“I….I….” 

“No! Don’t!” Your mother shrieks, her hair falling in front of her face. Her honour is lost, name smeared with dirt. 

Your father opens his eyes again, adorning a soft smile and he nods towards you. You know that look of his. “You must protect your brother.” 

“I…” Tears shed down your cheeks. You’re forced to stand by the guards, held by the collar of your attire. The sword is shoved into your hands, the tip of another pointed at the small of your back. “I can’t…” 

“You c-can.” Your father tells. “It’s okay.” 

Your mother and brother wail, crying. Blood begins to drip to where the swords are held against their necks. You tremble, staggering forward, pushed and shoved. Your father shuts his eyes and you’re brought in front of him. “I….I can’t….” 

Suddenly, your father reaches out. He grabs a hold of the blade tightly, sinking his hand into it and he throws himself forward. He runs the sword into his body. Blood spits from his mouth, spraying onto your cheek.  

You drop the sword, staggering back. Broken sobs are caught in your throat. Your heart stops, hands shaking, and you collapse. Breaths pull out of your lungs — you can’t breathe no matter how much you gasp. Your father looks at you, nodding his head, and then he slumps over. 

All at once, the other guards slash down at your mother and younger brother. Cruel and unsparing. The last of your family’s wails are cut short. “Sist—!” And they fall over. 

Blood drips down from the sword in thick puddles. It trickles like summer rain. And it spreads, coating the golden floors of the throne room in the shade of carmine. Your hands become wet and warm with your family’s blood. 

You can’t feel your body. 

“Shall we kill her, your majesty?” the guard asks the minister, waiting for his signal. 

Yoongi’s father smiles. He walks over the bodies, unsympathetic that his shoes are soaked in scarlet. He tilts your chin up with his index finger. “It would be a shame if such beauty went to waste.” He smiles and stands straight. “She will become my courtesan.” 

“Yes, your majesty.” You’re dragged upwards by your arms, legs dangling like a doll. 

“Prepare her and bring her to my room tonight.” 

As you’re dragged out, you watch Yoongi’s father climbs the steps up to the throne. 

You’re brought out into the darkness, carried by two guards. But suddenly, they whimper, falling onto their knees, slashed on their backs. They drop dead. 

You barely manage to hold yourself up, but you feel yourself being shaken, a faraway voice raspy and speaking to you. You’re dizzy, world spinning around you, not sure if you’re dead or alive. But you find cat-like eyes that you detest to the core of your being in front of you. 

You’re pushed forward by him, stumbling towards a horse by the stable. You know it’s your only escape, your only opportunity. It’s the only thing your numb mind can focus on, and with the rest of your strength, you climb up onto it.  

You lay on the animal it and it cries out, hooved digging into the dirt as it sprints. You try to hold on with your blood stained hands. 

But you glance behind you once more to the palace engulfed by fire. 

Min Yoongi — you will kill him and his father. You will crush their limbs beneath your feet before beheading him slowly at the bottom steps of the throne. You will come back and you will slaughter every single one of them, the ministers, the rebels, the traitors. You will avenge your family and clear their names by hanging their heads out on display. It’s a vow you swear yourself by. 

Your hands are already stained with blood — more of it wouldn’t matter now.

[clairecrive]

Come back (Part 2)

It has been highly requested and here it is! Buckle up, because this image is very very long.

Tag: @mschellehitt

***

Crap Crap Crap, did I already say crap?

I couldn't imagine a more embarrassing situation.

Maybe he's just arrived and he hasn't heard anything. Yeah, that's possible.

Clinging desperately onto this possibility, I act like nothing compromising has happened and I smile and wave at him like I normally would.

He doesn't react, his face still emotionless while he starts walking towards our table. So I turn back so that I was facing Elijah.

He was the only reason why I wasn't freaking out. With him present, the conversation couldn't turn too personal, right?

But as always, nothing goes like I want and when I turn around, I see that Elijah is about to stand up.

"What are you doing?" I ask worried

"You two need to talk, I'm going to leave you alone." he says and stands up when Klaus is standing beside me

I stand up too, in hope to convince him to stay with a panicked expression but he doesn't budge. Stubborn stubborn man, ugh.

Instead he gives me a big smile and a tight hug to reassure me.

"It's going to be okay, just be honest with him. Don't be afraid." he whispers in my ear before pulling away.

He gives a nod of recognition to Klaus and leaves us alone.

I quickly sit back down, to avoid his eyes. I had already drunk my coffe but I thought that staying in a public place is better for this kind of situation.

He also sits down and doesn't utter a word. I can feel his eyes on me though so, before he could ask anything I break the silence trying to do a little small inoffensive talk.

"It's a beautiful morning, isn't it?"I ask. Lame I know but whatever.

"Indeed it is." he replies

Great intervention, 100 for the effort.

"It's the perfect weather to do an outdoor activity. Do you have anything planned for today?" I dare to ask.

I mean it's still a safe question but only now I realize that his answer could involve his girlfriend.

"It's not exactly an outdoor activity but I was thinking about some truth spilling. What do you think?" he says hinting at my previous conversation with Elijah not so delicately.

"Well, I mean if you have something on your chest then yes, go for it." I cluelessly reply

"I like to believe that I'm always very forward in my relationships. However,there is someone among us that needs to let something off their chest, but it's not me."

Shit, shit shit.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I mutter in a weak and lame attempt to keep up pretenses.

He angrily hits the table startling me and getting the everyone's attention. I should have seen this coming, he has a bit of a temper. Just a little bit.

"Enough with these lies. Since when have you been lying to my face? After everything that we've been through, don't you think I deserve to know the truth?" he asks apparently fed up with my lies

I had hoped to never have this conversation with him because I knew that if had had it, I wouldn't have known what to say.

I know he's hurt by my lies, and that was never my intention. Our relationship has always been based on mutual trust and honesty. So I guess his reaction is not so dramatic after all.

Now I'm faced with a choice, do I tell him the truth consequently putting me on the front line, or do I just dismiss this conversation by leaving?

Would he let me leave though? And more importantly, do I have the strength to get up and leave him here knowing that this is my last chance with him?

The internal battle was pretty clear but as cliché as it sounds, as soon as I looked into his beautiful enticing blue eyes, I knew that I couldn't leave him here or lie to him anymore.

I've already hurt him enough, he deserves an explanation.

I take a deep breath and leaning away from him towards the back of the chair I nod, letting him know that I was going to tell him what he wanted.

After that, a couple of minutes pass in silence, in my vain attempt to find the right words. But I mean, what better words than those who come form the heart?

"Before I say anything, I want you to know that if I didn't tell you anything it's because I thought it was the best thing for you. I haven't exactly been lying to you, but I do have been omitting some things. I don't know how much you've heard before, but I'm going to start from the beginning." I start explaining looking at him

"I think you probably know this, but I don't trust people easily. I'm sure you understand, although it's not for the same reason. When I'm getting to know someone, and we get along well I almost immediately get attached to them. After a while, I saw that this was not good for me seeing as almost everyone I've ever met has screwed me over. So, I guess you could call it a defense mechanism, but now I only let some people in and after a while." I open up to him. My voice was very low but I didn't worry about not being heard for his supernatural hearing and all that.

"I think it's safe to say that you and your family were let in. Pretty much after a day I've met you. And before you ask, no I don't regret it, I do trust you and you all know that. By now, I'm sure you're wondering, so where's the problem?" I rhetorically ask him

His eyes never left mine during this time so I know he was following me. Now shit gets real and I don't have it in me to look at him while I confess this. So I decide to play with the cup of coffee in my hands.

"The thing is, that now we enter in a new field kinda. I'm not ashamed to admit that I've never been in a serious relationship. The only guy I've ever trusted enough to let him completely in (no pun intended) has royally screwed me over and thrown my trust for guys into the bin. Since then, I've never been romantically involved with anyone. And I was fine with it, really. But then you came into my life and everything changed, cliché I know." I pause for a moment because I hear him chuckle and oh boy how I missed that sound.

"Well, almost everything. You see, I'm still scared that things will end on the worst terms and I don't want that. Not with you." At this, I can't help myself but glance at him. His look on me was so intense that I wondered how come I haven't melted yet.

"Yes, I do have feelings for you. Yes, I guess it would make me very happy to be with you. But that's not the point. I realized it too late, I let my fear win and now I've lost you. I didn't want to tell you because it's not fair to you, you've found a beautiful girl that makes you happy. I was too late, end of the story." I finish still not looking at him.

When I do though, his gaze was almost scheming, like he was figuring something out. I look at him in silence, giving him the chance to take all of this in.

After a while, when I was ready to admit defeat and retreat into my house of losers, he smiles leaving me breathless and speechless.

He's always read me like an open book, even better than Elijah, so my bewilderment was pretty evident for him. That's why he let out a little laugh.

He leans towards me and takes my hands off the cup and into his before speaking.

"You know I'd never hurt you, right?" he asks

"That's beside the point, Klaus. I'm not worried that you'd hurt me, not voluntarily at least" I admit

"Then what are you afraid of?"

"What if you get bored of me? What if you get fed up with me and fall in love with someone else? I mean, you do have eternity after all, so why would you settle with boring plain me?" I explain

"Why wouldn't I?" he smartly asks

"The question is, why would you? I'm sure you can find someone better than me. Maybe you've already found her." I hit at his current girlfriend.

"You know, I think that your fear is not the problem here, rather it's your non-existent self-confidence." Ehm, what?

"You once told me that in order to make another love you, you should love yourself first. But you see, that's not quite right. Yes, you should love yourself but if you don't yet that doesn't mean that no one will too." he says not really waiting for a reply

"I love you, I've loved you since the first time I saw you. It took me a little to figure that out, you know me and my paranoia."

"It's okay to be scared, I am too. I've never done this with anyone either. Didn't you think that I could be afraid of losing you too?" he asks now waiting for me to answer

"No, I didn't." I admit

"I really wish you would have told me all of this earlier, it would have saved us some time." he finally says.

"I know, I'm too late." I say trying to pull my hands away from his. But his grip is strong and prevents me from doing so.

"No, you're not. There's no such thing as 'being too late'. Haven't you heard me before when I told you I love you?" he asks

"So what exactly are you saying?"I timidly ask.

"I'm saying that if you come back to me, I'll come back to you." He says with a smile making my heart flutter

I can't believe this, how I was blessed with this amazing guy still goes over my head.

"And what about your girlfriend? I don't want to be 'the other girl'" I state making him laugh

"There's no girlfriend. She's just a really good friend. You're the only one for me since the moment you walked into my life." he sweetly admits

"Oh please, enough with the cheesiness. You're lucky I love you" I lightheartedly admit. It felt so good to finally admit my feelings out loud, it was so freeing. It was amazing. He was amazing.

He doesn't reply right away, probably enjoying the fact that I had finally said that I loved him too.

"I love you too, Y/N." he says and leans towards me. I also lean towards him to meet him halfway and our lips finally meet in a beautiful kiss full of love and longing.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hi everyone!

I'm so happy that you've loved this idea that I've decided to post part 2 as soon as I could

Just joking, but I would like to take to this opportunity not only to thank every single one of my readers but also to let you know that I deeply enjoy writing request. It really makes me feel appreciated as a writer.

So yeah, if you have a request do let me know and if not well just let me know what you think of this imagine.

Byee

[fortheloveofkuroo]

Partner?

A/n: This fic is already waiting on my waiting list to get published. I write this story like 3 years ago. With a diffetent character ofc. This fic is inspired by a tumblr post about a Agent!AU.

Todoroki Shoto × F!Reader

!WARNING!: Swearing, Guns, and violence.

• • •

A huge, old yet classy building stands tall infront of you are crowded with a lot of people. From commoners untill the famous one.

Your eyes quickly did a quick scanning about the whole area around you. Making sure that there are no one, not even someone is following you. Trying to act as casual as possible, you grip your clutch to your chest and looking around with an amazed face as if it's your first time being here.

"Invitation?" a big and scary guy suddenly stops you.

You look over to that guy and hands over a small invitation that wrapped in a gold paper. Giving him an innocent smile.

"This way." his big hand welcoming you while opening the glass door. Exposing the hidden world inside. You look around. Scanning the whole Club area carefully through the drunk people that's been dancing on the dance floor and making sure you don't miss a thing because your eyes searching for someone.

Legs stepping in. Your 6in red stilletos heels make a captivating sound everytime your feet touches the floor. Your short spaghetti straps black-velvet dress showing off your curve. All eyes on you.

"Damnit Mina. I told you to not dress me with something eye catching but look what you did." you whispered under your breath, anticipating an answer from a device that's been plugged in your ear.

"Sorry sweetie, but hey look at the bright side, you look gorgeous!" a voice reply with a chuckle and you sighed. You made your way to the bar.

The bar is not so crowded. Only few people sits their ass on there and enjoying their liquor. But the bartender seems busy. There are 2 bartender in that bar. One is mixing the drink while the other one is serving.

You walks closer and take a seat that's closest to the bartender position. Planning to make him spill every information about the target.

Of course you're here with a reason. Your Department, Shiketsu gave you this important mission to capture the big Mafia group that's been troubling this area and doing as they want. Stealing, robbing, killing. You name it all.

And you're the one who will stop it.

Your (E/C) eyes linger around the bar area. Scanning any abnormal things, CCTV, or even a microphone but luckily you found nothing. Your eyes turn to the bartender. He prepare the drink for his customer with such a skill. He's trained and good.

"What can i make for you tonight, Ms?" the other bartender with bright yellow hair greets you.

"One Bloody Mary please." you order simply. Giving him your deadly smile which struck him for a while and made him froze. The bright yellow colored hair bartender order the other bartender to make your order.

Once He's done, he serves the drink to you. "Enjoy your drink." his deep voice creeps to your neck. Lucious black hair with bangs covering his left eye. His face is emotionless but those smug smile.

"[DG], find any information about this club. Find a proof that our target is really here." a voice command you from the device. Easy.

"Say.." you look over to the yellow haired bartender's his uniform. Searching for a nametag.

"Say Kaminari. How is this Club? I would like to know more. This club is very interesting and gorgeous.." you say, leaning close to his ears.

"..Like you." His ears gone red. He's embarassed.

"Um.. Well this club, Golden Rose Club is developed by Mr. Chronos. As you already know, the biggest Mafia in this area. That's why.." you sits back straight, not listening to him anymore. You're in the right place and with the right target. Now you just need to find him.

"Ooh.. And where can i find this Mr. Chronos, Kaminari?" your hand, carresing his cheek and slowly moving down to his neck and chest.

"Um.. He's usually not here but. He's here now. Because there are few important guest that's meeting him here-" he shuts his mouth suddenly. Looks like he spill too much to you. You smirk and drink your bloody mary. Leaving a few dollar to pay but a hand stops you.

"It's on the house." his deep voice makes you feel a little chill again. It's that black haired bartender again. You thank him with a smile and left immediately. You can feel a pair of eyes watching you from far. It's him. He seems suspicious.

But you decided to focus on your target more. You sail the ocean of human in the dance floor, trying to find this "Mr. Chronos".

Untill you found a large couch in the middle of the dance floor with a middle-aged man sitting in the center. Arms extended and young attractive girls around him. Those girls are practically throwing themself to him.

"Remember [DG], Mr. Chronos is a middle-aged man. Often identified as Mr. C in his club. He had a few tatoo on his neck, arm, and face. A claw on his left neck, a demon on both of his arms and a skull on his left cheek."

You match the features one more time and it is. It is him. Your target. Well that's easy and this is gonna end well you tought. You walk confidently and approach him.

"Oh look, what a pretty girl. Who's your name darling? Come sit sit!" he offers you a seat beside him by pushing a girl that's been sticking to him the whole time away.

You smile sweetly and pulls out your gun. Pointing your gun at his forehead while smiling.

"It's over Chronos." you said, feeling win.

But, instead of feeling scared, Chronos laughed. "This is why i like the agents. They're good with surprises. I've been expecting you Agent. Code name [DeadlyGorgeous] am i right?" he smirked playfully while sipping a wine.

You frown. How did he know? Did someone blow your cover? It doesn't matter. The problem is, now you're surrounded with 10 big guy. His subordinate pointing a gun at the same place. Your head. And at that time, you feel dizzy. Your knees feels weak.

The everything is black.

• • •

You woke up in a car. The car is not moving. But for some reason, your body feels heavy and tired.

Wait. You sits immediately. Checking every part of your limbs. They're still there and everything is still in place. Thank goodness. But something fell off. A black vest fell off from your lap.

You picked it up and inspect it closely. Wait.. This vest seems familiar.

"Oh you're up." a voice startled you. The black haired and emotionless face. It's the bartender.

"Y-You! What happened? What did you do to me?!" you point at him. Searching for your gun that you always put in your stocking.

"Looking for this?" In his hand, there's a gold revolver. It's your gun.

"Hey give that back!" you hurrily get out from the car and tried to get your gun back.

"Deadly.. Gorgeous. What a unique code name. But it's definitely suits you." his finger ran over the carving on the barrel. He gave you a smug smile again. What's with him and his smug smile?

Your hand tried to get back the gun but he keeps teasing you and lifting it high on the air. You can't help it he's taller than you. "Give it back!" and your legs slipped. Your body automatically falls into his embrace as he hold you.

With you in his chest, you can feel his warmth and his heartbeat that slowly go faster. "Um.. You okay? Can you get off now?" he asked. "Oh right! Sorry.." you pulls your body away from him. Feeling embarassed and blaming yourself for being so reckless.

He takes off his jacket and put it over your shoulder. "The vest is not warm enough so wear this. With that dress you'll catch a cold."

You're touched with his kindness. But you don't even know who is this person. Can he be trusted?

"Actually.. Who are you?" you hold his hand. He looks at your eyes and sighed.

His hand pulls something out from his pocket and show it to you. "Agent Todoroki Shoto, code name [Twilight] from U.A Agent Department. Nice to meet you, Agent (Y/N)."

You dropped your jaw. 'That' [Twilight]? He's a very famous agent on the secret agent world. He's a very high-class agent.

"Wait but.. The bartender.. How.." You're confused. Somehow your brain cannot process this simple information.

He chuckled. "Have you heard about disguise, Agent (Y/N)?"

Right. How stupid. How can you forgot the basic of undergoing a mission. Disguise is a must.

But, why did such a prestigious agent department send it's finest agent to a club like this? Usually they will handle things a lot more serious than this. Something like the government or even internasional.

"What? Is something wrong?" he asked while cracking open a can of coffee. He offers you some too.

"No it's just.. Why a high-class agent like you is handling a not-so-big mafia in the club? I thought your job is way more dangerous than this." you wondered. Once again you hear him chuckle and he gave you a pat on your head.

"Why are you so cute, agent?" his words immediately make your cheeks heating up. What's this?

"Did you forget that the department can send their agent anywhere, everywhere right? Even to the North Pole if they can." he explained.

"Ah right. I forgot about that. My head is still dizzy." you hold your head and massage it a little.

"Ah the drug is still working."

Drug? Wait what?

"Drug? What drug?"

Todoroki seems dumbfounded, he scratch his neck and smile. "Well, when you order the bloody mary back at the club, i put in a few dose of low anesthetic. Because i know from the first time that you're after that Mafia and we have the same target."

You can't say a word. Speechless. He's just too good.

"I apologized for making you unconscious in the middle of your important moment, but hey i save your life."

"And how about the Mafia" you stare right to his eyes. Demanding an answer. "Calm down. He's already with the police."

You sighed and slump. That means you fail at your mission. Even though you almost had him. You feel a warmth on your shoulder and look up.

"Don't be sad. I sent him to the police with a report that you're the one who capture him. So it's your win."

Shocked. This man always made you speechless.

"Afterall you're the one who attempted to capture that mafia first. So i told them that you fight him and capture him. And you faint because you're too tired. They offer an ambulance but i refuse. Also i told them to report to your Department."

You smiled softly and approach him. Slowly tip toe-ing to reach his cheek an peck his cheek quickly. He surprised and cover his cheek.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"Thank you. You saved my life and my job. I can't thank you enough." you bowed deeply to him. You hear him sighed and his hand slowly brings you to stand up.

"Don't be so polite geez. It's weird, just a moment ago you're flirting with my partner and now you're being so polite." he's averting his gaze and his cheeks are a little flushed.

"Ah it's already 3 in the morning. I have to go home now." you hurrily wear your shoes but Todoroki holds your hand. "I'll drive you home. I can't call myself a man if i let you go home alone in this hours. You're a girl too." he steps in his car and starts the engine. Then he starts driving.

And the whole time, none of you two have spoken a word. It's just silent and awkward. Untill Todoroki breaks it.

"Where do you live?" his eyes focused on the road.

"Oh right. Luxury Apartment beside the station." you answered.

"Oh wow. You live in Luxury? You must be paid well huh? A month in Luxury itself is around ¥700.000 am i right?" he said while admiring you.

"How about you, Todoroki?" you asked him too. He smiles. "I live on a small simple house." his eyes is still attached to the road.

He clear his throat, then out of the blue asked. "Do you have a boyfri-" "No. We broke up 3 months ago." you answer instantly. "Oh..Why?"

"He found out that i'm an agent. He think that my job is too dangerous for him. He doesn't want to be with me again because i'm always dealing with a criminal and i will put him in danger." you explained with a blank expression.

"What a loser. I'm sorry you have to be with that guy."

you laughed softly. "What for? It's not that he treat me nicely too. Not like you.." you said under your breath at the end of sentence. Hoping that he doesn't hear.

"And we're here."

Todoroki's car stops at the lobby of a fancy building. Your hand unbuckle the seatbelt and stare at his eyes for a while. His turquoise and brown eyes are beautiful. You got off, but you decided to tell him a few things first.

You knock on his window, he opens it quickly. "What's wrong?" he asked, brow furrowing. "Listen, once again thank you for saving me and my job. Also-" before you can even finished your word, his lips already crashes to yours.

He kisses you slowly but full with passion. Then he pulls away and smile. And you froze.

"Your welcome, also do you live alone?"

You nod.

"Good. Can i visit you sometimes?"

You nod again.

"Also one more thing. Would you go out with me?"

And you nod again. Causing him to grin.

"Perfect, Have good rest (Y/N)~" then he just leave like that.

[themonkeycabal]

FAM! Please tell us - when is the next Great Installment of WRLWA coming out?? We've still got Ultron and Civil War, with Panther and Infinity War just around the corner. The is tied with my favourite fic series ever, and I've been dying for some updates. Any hints??

Hey fam, I hear you like updates.

Next story is Ultron and the Date, and here’s the first chapter for you (I’m not sure when there will be more, sorry, but I’m getting there):

Darcy liked London. It was old and new, and big and small, and all that contradictory jazz. But, somehow the contradictions just made the city feel human scale to her; like it wasn’t some monolithic mass of stone and steel. New York was still a little overwhelming sometimes. Though, she did come from the land of vast Southern California sprawl — not exactly the coziest or friendliest of human habitats. But, that was really beside the point.

At the moment, what she liked most about London was that it was thousands of miles away from family drama.

The Seattle branch of the tree were in a tizzy. People, it seemed, were miffed. Possibly even vexed.

Calling home had become a real and deep regret, and Darcy was trying not to listen, but her mother was pressing on.

“Marcia isn’t bending. She says it has to be at that resort; she and her fiancé have some deal with the owners. Your grandmother is pitching a fit.”

“Oh no. It’s the end of the world. How terrible,” Darcy murmured and kicked her feet out, lounging back on an uncomfortable bench overlooking the Thames.

It was a nice day. The sun was out and the air was nearly warm. Warm for London, she supposed. But, definitely better than New York sticky. So, yes, it was a nice day. Perfect to get outside and do outside things.

She and Jane arrived in the city two days earlier. And today, while Jane and her mother were bonding over academic journals and fighting over Jane’s wardrobe and how she basically still mostly shopped at Goodwill, Darcy fled the apartment to wander around a little. It was a fine time to reacquaint herself with the area, get her bearings, and give her own mother a call. Such a mistake.

“I know, I know,” Rebecca Lewis continued. “But, she’ll make the trip hell for all of us if somebody doesn’t appease her. According to Jo, it’s nearly war as it is. Uncle Larry’s on Marcia’s side, aunt Ruth’s on mom’s. It could get ugly. So, have you RSVP’d for Marcia’s wedding yet? That might win us back a point.”

“Are you kidding?” Darcy rolled her eyes to the sky and gripped her phone a little tighter, like she could throttle the drama out of it.

Francine Perlman was not a grandmother given to displays of warmth or cheeriness or whatever grandmothers are supposed to be like. She wasn’t a sweet, round, little granny who smelled like spices and made cookies. She was a thin, brittle woman, in both stature and personality. Sour and never pleased, and doubly never pleased with Darcy.

Darcy and her grandmother didn’t get along, and hadn’t since, as far as Darcy knew, the day she was born. Francine was never cruel, never outright rude, but there was a definite chill towards Darcy that her other cousins didn’t seem to get. And it wasn’t just because of that one time Darcy set her grandmother’s dining table on fire. That was an accident, and Francine was unpleasant before that anyway.  

The mystery of Darcy’s biological father — because Rebecca refused to tell and no amount of persuasion or scorn was ever enough to get her to spill, because Darcy’s mom was badass, thank you very much — was the biggest sore spot for the woman. Francine once made the mistake of referring to Darcy as a bastard in her great-grandmother Perlman’s hearing. It was a flipping shame that Darcy’d been too young to appreciate or remember the look on Francine’s face at a dressing down from her own mother. Seeing that again would totally be worth the pain of time traveling. Maybe.

Anyway, Darcy didn’t think that her presence would tilt the scales towards familial peace with Francine.

“Do I have to?” she asked in a tone that most definitely wasn’t a ‘whine’.

Rebecca was silent for a moment, probably steadying herself to deal with a whining daughter, and then she let out a long breath. “No, you don’t have to, but it would be really great if you did.”

Darcy felt her nose wrinkle with distaste and annoyance. She didn’t want to go, it was a pain in the ass, she liked to absolutely avoid the family drama, and being stuck in a mountain resort with the whole Perlman clan sounded like the opening to a horror movie. Unfortunately, she knew, without a doubt, that she’d cave and RSVP and whatnot. But, she was going to make her mother work for it.

“A destination wedding to the middle of the Cascades, in October,” she said, trying to make her voice as dry and bland as Coulson’s when he was being pointedly sarcastic.

“It’s only a couple hours from Seattle. And it’ll be beautiful. I looked the resort up, it’s really nice. Remodeled last year with a huge new spa. Amazing views. And it’ll be autumn. You like autumn.”

Darcy did like autumn. It was her favorite season when she was at Culver, and now that she lived in New York she’d gone all tourist-stupid in love with dramatic fall colors. The seasons really didn’t change like that in San Dimas. They had hot season, and not hot season, and mudslide season, and holy-shit-everything’s-on-fire season. But not autumn so much.

Still, she had to protest a little bit. “It’ll be cold and rainy.” Rubbing at her forehead, annoyed tension threatening to cause a headache, Darcy glared at not-at-all-cold-and-rainy London.  But, it wasn’t London’s fault, and she patted the bench beside her in apology.

“I always pictured Marcia as a June bride cliche,” Darcy continued after a moment. “And maybe at one of the fancy resorts on one of those islands out there. Like Duck Island, or whatever it’s called. Moose Island? Whatever. Just, wouldn’t have figured a mountain lodge in October. For real, did she hit her head recently?”

“There’s not a Duck Island,” Rebecca sighed.

“I feel confident there’s a Duck Island somewhere. But that’s not the point,” Darcy protested. “I’m serious. This is wildly out of character. Should we be worried? Has she joined a cult? Is she doing drugs? What does aunt Jo say about all this?”

“Jo is very excited for her daughter’s wedding,” her mother replied dryly. “I would be, too. In fact, I have extensive plans and when—”

“Don’t push me,” Darcy sniffed. “Oh! Could she be Hydra? Or her fiancé? What do we know about him? Has anybody run a background on this guy? Maybe this is a trap. Darn, looks like I’ll have to pass. For national security reasons, you understand. I am a very important asset.”

Her mother made a low, growling grumble sound. “You’re something, that’s for sure.”

“So rude.” Darcy pouted and petulantly knocked the toes of her shoes together while slouching down on the bench like a put-upon grade-schooler.

“Anyway,” Rebecca said, raising her voice above her daughter’s attempt to change the subject into absurdity. “Marcia and Ben negotiated an event deal on the rooms, but only if you book by August 10th. There was a plus one with your invitation, so maybe you’d rather get a suite?”

“Meh.”

“You could bring Steve,” she said with a leading and kind of pleading tone in her voice. Her mother was never going to give up her star-spangled dreams for her daughter, was she? “I think he might be able to charm even my mom.”

“Poor Steve, what did he do to deserve being sent on the Francine charm mission? It’s practically a suicide run.” Darcy snickered. “Besides, I think bringing Captain America would kind of upstage the bride, and I thought that was the biggest possible wedding faux pas of them all.”

“How about Tony?” It seemed like her mother was as desperate for a distraction as Darcy was herself. She must be, to suggest that. Tony would be a bored in ten minutes and disaster would follow. Bad enough Darcy anticipated being bored in twenty minutes. Nobody deserved two bored Starks at their wedding. Not even Marcia.

Darcy laughed out loud. “Speaking of upstaging. Though, you know, I bet he absolutely could charm Francine. Again, I don’t think Marcia would appreciate it and it would be our teen years all over again with the screaming and the door slamming and the brawl in the dining room.”

“And the paint bomb?”

Darcy shifted on the bench and winced. Technically she was still grounded from that incident, since, as she recalled, the terms of punishment were 'until you’re thirty, young lady!’. “I’ll leave the paint bomb at home.”

“Ah-ha!” Rebecca crowed. “Progress! Look at you, ready to let go of the kid arguments with your cousin, at long last. And peace falls across the land.”

Darcy snorted and felt a little aggravated because teenaged Marcia was the actual worst. Bossy, bitchy, snooty, and prissy. So, it’s not like the war had been Darcy’s fault. Nope, not at all. “Right, did you or did you not have an argument with aunt Jo last year about how she hogged the bathroom when you were kids? Like, actually yelling at each other.”

“Well, we were finally resolving that issue,” Rebecca told her. “Sometimes it takes a while. And anyway, I’m not judging, I’m just glad. Marcia has asked me twice if you’re coming. She’s waiting for your RSVP. She really wants you to be there.”

“To show off how together her life is while I’m still interning,” Darcy grumbled. She swore she heard Jane shout 'assistant’ in her head.

“Maybe, or maybe she genuinely wants to share the day with you. She’s not the same person she was when she was fifteen, and neither are you. Give her a chance.”

Blowing out a long breath, Darcy stuck her tongue out at her absent cousin and told her mom, “I don’t know. I’m up to my ears in things; I’m not sure if I’m in the mood for a destination wedding and Marcia’s Marcia-ness.”

“Okay, look at it this way,” Rebecca argued back doggedly, “why don’t you try to mend fences, you make the effort? And then if she’s an obnoxious diva, show-off, it’ll just make her look petty and you’ll look like the bigger person. You win.”

“That’s so manipulative, mom,” Darcy said admiringly.

“I know. Give it a shot. Or bring Tony. But, I’d really like you to be there.” And that was that. That was the firm mom-voice. That was the tone of a woman who would no longer accept 'no’. She’d try and make it palatable for Darcy, but the jig was up. “So would your dad. And your brother. And aunt Jo, and uncle Hugh. That’s five people you actually like. And your great uncle Larry, who will pull a quarter from behind your ear, because who doesn’t love that trick? Right? Come on.”

Darcy scoffed and kicked at a tuft of grass by her feet. “I’m 25, I doubt uncle Larry will try the coin trick.”

“I’m 48 and he tried it on me when I saw him two months ago at his granddaughter’s bat mitzvah. Just think, free money.”

“That’s a pretty big inducement for me. You know me too well.”

“Besides, who cares how together her life is? Good for her, I say. And, you know and I know that you’re not just an intern.”

“Oh sigh, mom, sigh,” Darcy told her with a touch of melodrama. Why did she think it was a good idea to call her mom?

“Are you cracking?” Rebecca asked. “I think you’re cracking. If you agree to crack, I won’t pull out guilt.”

“Fine,” Darcy moaned. God, not guilt. “Consider me cracked.”

Rebecca was good enough not to laugh or cackle or otherwise express her triumphant glee. “So, plus one ideas? Clint?”

“Clint’s a good option,” Darcy agreed readily enough. It was a sort of topic change that was at least more entertaining to think about than Marcia or her grandmother. “He’s fun, probably won’t be able to charm Francine, but he knows how to make an escape. And God knows he’s game for almost anything, no matter how awkward. And nothing screams awkward quite like a Perlman family civil war in the middle of the forest.”

“He’ll be a hit at passive-aggressive cocktail hour,” Rebecca laughed. “Any update since the proposal? We could make it a double wedding.”

“The joke proposal. No, mom.”

“Too bad. He’s cute.”

“He’s also got a weird thing with a hot Russian assassin,” Darcy pointed out with a little laugh. “So, Clint is firmly friend material.”

“Yeah, I remember. I like Natasha; I wouldn’t mind seeing her again. She’d be a nice plus one. Though, she and your grandmother would probably try to freeze each other to death with icy stares. But,” Rebecca’s voice dropped, quieting in a way that suggested a secret — a delicious secret, “what about Bucky Barnes? I hear things. I hear that maybe you’re going on a date.”

Darcy was silent for a moment, chilly surprise slipping down her spine. That was an unexpected conversational turn. One she wasn’t sure she was prepared for. “Who told you that?”

“Steve.”

That sounded bad. That sounded awkward. Her mom and Steve were chatting buddies? She’d never survive the nagging. “When are you talking to Steve?”

“Darcy, you leave your phone all over the place. Half the time when I call you, I end up talking to somebody else. They all pick up. I talk to Norse gods and secret agents more often than I talk to my daughter.” Rebecca made a frustrated sound and then let her breath out slowly before saying, “You can tell me these things, you do know that, right?”

Her mother had a point. She’d been desperate to talk to people about Bucky for a while, and she’d talked a little bit to Jane, a little bit to Phil, but for some reason she never thought of her mom. That felt kind of unfair. Some things were a little awkward for a mom talk, but not her weird mixed up head about Bucky.

“It’s just been a little overwhelming, is all,” she said, trying to explain to herself and her mom. “Like, everything that’s happened lately. I wasn’t not telling you, I just have a billion things going on.”

“Are you going to tell me now?”

“Sure. I mean, yeah, that would be good.” Darcy blew out a long breath and nodded once to herself. “Apparently we’re going dancing. I don’t know when; that’s his deal, but he said while I’m in London. He’s supposed to visit in a couple weeks. Anyway, he got crazy stoned like five months ago — inadvertently stoned, I mean; he’s not a stoner — and he asked me dancing and I thought it was just because he was, you know—”

“Stoned?” Rebecca guessed, maybe almost kind of laughing. Darcy ignored that.

“Yes! But then he asked when he wasn’t high. And I said yes. But, then I was like, is he asking because like I’m the only girl he knows? Which is the truth. Or because he actually likes me. I mean, I know he likes me, because we’re building a bar together and it was his idea. And we go to breakfast together sometimes, but in a friend way, not a romantical way.” She took a breath before jumping into the next run-on sentence.

“But, before we figured out the dancing thing, it was kidnappings and arrests — did I say arrests? It wasn’t a real arrest, and it was like five hours tops and I laughed at them the whole time because they had no legal leg to stand on so it was mostly annoying to everybody involved — and attacks on the tower and property acquisitions and unexpected bequests and … so many things! So, we haven’t gone dancing yet. Is it a date? I don’t know. I think he wants it to be.”

“Do you?”

“ … Maybe? Okay, I totally brought jewelry to London, okay? I haven’t bought a dress yet, but that’s just because I haven’t had time. I plan on going out this weekend, and actually, I should say, that Jane and I plan on going out this weekend, and there’s no way in hell she’d let me out of it, even if I wanted, but I don’t want out, so it’s fine. I’m sure we’ll have fun and she’ll make sure I get something suitable for kicking up my heels with a greatest generation assassin. So, I’m taking it seriously and I want to go dancing with him, and I’m just—”

“Oh sweetie,” her mom finally couldn’t pretend she wasn’t laughing.

“Don’t 'oh sweetie’ me,” Darcy grumbled and then paused. “Wow, I really do sound like Pepper sometimes.”

“I’m sure your father loves that.”

“Yeah, he always says it with this panicked look on his face.” It all made so much sense now. Anyway. “So, yes, I guess I’m going on a date.”

“Can I offer a piece of advice?”

Darcy hesitated for a moment, but, that was what she wanted, wasn’t it? “Go for it.”

“Just have fun. Don’t make it bigger than it has to be.”

Not helpful. “That’s what Phil and Jane said.”

“You told the Director before you told me?” Her mom sounded hurt and like this might be something she’d hold over Darcy’s head for the rest of forever unless Darcy could head it off.

“Bucky’s my partner!” she exclaimed, throwing one hand up in the air and startling a passing jogger, who ran away faster in response. “There are protocols and crap. I told Phil after Bucky asked me out the first time, because it seemed like I was supposed to and also I didn’t know what to do. He just said to work on our partnership, and he basically wasn’t going to tell me what to do with Bucky one way or the other. Technically Bucky’s an outside contractor, so it doesn’t exactly violate frat regs. Which, by the way, Howard was an asshole.”

“Howard? Your grandfather Howard?” Rebecca asked, no doubt confused at the abrupt change in topic. “What does he have to do with it?”

“He named a sub-clause in the fraternization regs — the one covering partners — after me.”

“I thought you two got along?”

“We did. I loved the heck out of him. But, he was still an asshole.”

Her mom sighed and chastised lightly, “Don’t call your grandfather an asshole.”

“Why not? He’s dead; he can’t hear me. And if he can, he knows what he did. And he’s probably laughing. Asshole.”

Rebecca was silent for a moment and then changed to a brighter tone and tried to get the conversation back onto a more productive track. “So, what are your plans? For London, I mean. How long will you be there?”

“I’m shooting for a month,” Darcy told her. “I have to find Jane a new assistant, but I also kind of have to get back to New York.”

“And have you told Jane yet?”

Darcy’s procrastination on this issue was widely known. To everybody but Jane. She bit her lip and cleared her throat.

“Darcy, sooner rather than later,” her mom said in mom-voice. “You need to let her have time to adjust and you need to have time to hand off to a new assistant. You can’t just —”

“I know,” Darcy interrupted with a growl — though she was more irritated at herself. “I know, okay. Yes, I know. I will do that. But, let’s just, you know, get settled for a few days. I mean, we only just got here and her mom’s going to Spain or whatever at the end of the week, so they’re hanging for a while, and that doesn’t seem like the right time to interrupt. So, like, after that. When we’re settled in a little bit and I see what I have to work with, potential replacement-wise.”

“Alright, alright. You’re an adult, I know you can make the right decision.”

Narrowing her eyes, Darcy asked, “That wasn’t a compliment, was it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rebecca said in a blithe tone. “I’m going to let you go; your dad and I are going out to dinner with your grandparents. I love you, baby.”

“Love you, too. Sometimes.”

Rebecca laughed. “Oh, and call your brother. You know he goes to Argentina in a couple weeks and he said he hasn’t heard from you lately.”

“Ugh. Fine. Go do dinner things.”

“And I want to hear all about the date.”

“Bye mom,” Darcy said loudly, hoping to forcefully yet not rudely end the call.

Rebecca laughed some more. “Oh fine, goodbye. Have fun!”

eta: sorry! forgot to fix the italic tags. Also, thank you!

[raccoonsinqueen]

Hi! I love 6S1M! I also enjoyed your quiz and ever since I've wondering if you'll ever write a fic about Edge being completely in love. In your quiz you said his type is "the angel" because at first he enjoys the idea of looking more evil next to a kind girl, but then he would come to truly love her for her selflessness and for who she is. I can't imagine what that would be like but it's a fanfic that would add years to my life LOL I WOULD LOVE TO SEE EDGE IN THAT RELATIONSHIP.

Me too

Beginning:

“You can’t do that.” Amidst all the calamity, a gentle but confident voice spoke out above the rest.

“…” Papyrus didn’t think he heard right. He straightened, towering over the small human. She didn’t show any signs of fear, which annoyed him ever so slightly if not impressed him. “I’M SORRY?”

“That’s not yours, you can’t take that.” She had the gall to say again, as if she had any power over him!

Most of the humans had fled the store after Papyrus had barged in; proclaiming his robbery with an onslaught of bones and maniacal laughter, save for a few who were trapped behind the counter. This… human girl, on the other hand, decided to stay for whatever foolish ideals she had. Papyrus puffed out his chest, “I CAN’T? IS THAT A CHALLENGE?”

“No, it’s a request.”

“I DON’T TAKE REQUESTS, LITTLE GIRL.”

“Then consider it a demand.” The human girl stepped in between him and the new toaster he was trying to take home. How was he supposed to make toast with this opposition? Though, he had to admit, he didn’t exactly despise this girls attempt to thwart him. It was interesting, to say the least.

“A DEMAND?!” Papyrus guffawed, “NYAHAHA! YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS? YOU DON’T REALLY THINK YOU, A LITTLE HUMAN GIRL, CAN STOP ME, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS, FROM TAKING THIS?”

“I may not be able to force you, no…” She voiced, “But I can try. And that will be enough.”

Papyrus tilted his head, before leaning down to her level and smirking, clasping her entire jaw in his claws, forcing her to look up at him. “I HAVE TO ADMIT, I ADMIRE YOUR BRAVERY, IF NOT STUPIDITY. BUT I’M AFRAID YOUR EFFORTS WILL BE IN VANE, LITTLE HERO. I’M GOING TO TAKE THIS, I’M GOING TO WALK OUT OF HERE, AND I’M GOING TO WATCH YOU SQUIRM AS I LEAVE.”

With a smack, his hand was off of her jaw as she said with resounding confidence, “You will not take that, you will not walk out of here with guilt on your hands, and you will find it in your heart to refrain from stealing, tall villain.”

Despite her stubbornness, despite her obvious defiance, despite her doing everything that should frustrate him to no end, his soul skipped an agonizingly low and deep beat. It took Papyrus a second to find his words, “I-I. I HAVE NO HEART, HERO.”

Her bright and light-filled eyes scanned his slightly red face, only making Papyrus more and more anxious. Then, suddenly, she turned around and pulled out a wad of cash from her purse. She set it down on the countertop, before grabbing the toaster and returning to face Papyrus.

“Then gain one.” She held out the toaster to him. Despite her kindness, she was looking at him with pure stubbornness and defiance.

Papyrus was speechless. Surely this was a trick of some kind, nobody was that kind, especially not to a super cool evil-doer such as himself? Right? So instead he just stared at her like she was crazy.

“Well?”

Papyrus narrowed his eyesockets, but found no form of deception. For just a split second, Papyrus imagined keeping this defiant hero for himself. “… I DON’T NEED ONE.” 

And with that, Papyrus turned around and walked out the door.

Later:

Papyrus knocked on the door to Undyne and Alphys apartment. Undyne had invited him over for training earlier, but was furious when Undyne had mistakenly mad plans for that very same day with! So what if he comes over for training every single day? That still doesn’t mean you can just ‘make plans’! Though to make up for it, Undyne had reassured him that he could still come over. 

But instead of training, they would be having dinner with one of their new friends.

Speaking of new friends, that lead to question who was this ‘new friend’? Would they replace him as Undyne’s best training partner? Why had he not met them before? They better not, and Papyrus would have to ensure that.

The door opened, and Undyne’s signature (and, honestly, very creepy) smile greeted him. 

“Papyrus!” She forcefully grabbed Papyrus and squeezed the life out of him, “Glad you could make it!”

Papyrus pushed her away with whatever strength he had left, “OF COURSE I COULD MAKE IT, I MAKE IT EVERYDAY!”

Undyne patted his shoulder with overwhelming strength, “I know, but this time around’s special! We have a guest!”

Papyrus let himself in, “SPEAKING OF GUEST… WHO IS THIS NEW ‘FRIEND’ OF YOURS?”

Undyne laughed nervously, “Hah, right! Okay, well, don’t freak out…”

Papyrus was already freaking out.

“…But she’s a human.”

Papyrus let out a sigh of relief. A human. 

“That’s not the reaction I was expecting.” Undyne poked at him, “I was expecting more of a, ‘A HUMAN?? ARE YOU MAD???’”

“HUMANS ARE WEAK, UNDYNE.” Papyrus boasted, “THIS WAY, IF I EVER NEED TO BATTLE THEM TO THE DEATH, I WILL WIN.”

“I don’t think this one would battle you, Papyrus.” Papyrus let out a groan as the former royal scientist leisurely joined the conversation. “Maybe throw some patronizing words of wisdom, but no punches.”

“GREAT, SO IT’D BE AN EASY KILL.”

Undyne laughed wholeheartedly, before it came to a sudden stop, “Don’t do that.”

Papyrus started to sweat, before he heard a soft voice from the kitchen, “Undyne! Alphys! The Lasagna is done!”

With a hard pat on the back, Papyrus was pushed forward. “Come on! She’s made your favorite! I think you’ll like her, she’s a real nice type.”

Papyrus rubbed his back, “LASAGNA’S NOT MY FAVORITE.”

Papyrus heard a few soft footsteps, before his eyesockets widened. “Hey, is your friend here yet- !” Papyrus couldn’t believe it. The human who turned around the corner was none other than the girl that had been plaguing his thoughts for the past couple of weeks! Not only that but she was WEARING AN APRON! AN APRON! What sort of cruel twisted fate was this?!

“Oh, it’s you.” She just said. 

There was a tense silence, before Undyne unknowingly interrupted the silence. “Uh, do you know eachother? You’re looking a little red there, Paps.”

As if interrupted from a trance, Papyrus turned to Undyne and harshly said, “YOU HAVE AWFUL TASTE IN FRIENDS.”

And with that, he left the little hero for the second time.

Sometime in the Middle:

Papyrus couldn’t believe the situation he was in. He was at a dinner party, a rather large one at that, and currently everyone was on the dance floor dancing. 

Except for him. 

And the little human girl.

By this time, Papyrus was cursing Sans’ unabashed ability to get drunk the moment the party started. He was over at the bar beyond smashed so he was no help, the good for nothing… And Undyne and Alphys were having too much fun trying to recreate certain scenes from an anime involving ballrooms that he had little to no knowledge about, so they were out. All that was left was him and the girl who he was quite certain he couldn’t get out of his mind.

An he hated it.

Except for that one part of him that was screaming SUCCESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!! but he kicked that part of him in the knees.

So far, after the past couple of months, their relationship was a strange one. At first, he did his best to avoid her, but she didn’t seem to be doing the same which was slightly frustrating. After that, it was his mission to antagonize her in everyway he possibly could, which wasn’t too hard. Their ideals were total opposites, so pulling up arguments was as easy as getting a stubborn human to talk. She thought that violence and bloodshed were never the answer, and he thought that was adorable. He relished in getting her frustrated as he told stories of his conquests. Her ideals were almost angelic-like, but that only made it more fun to oppose against. Not to mention how cool it made his evilness look.

But now they were sitting together, alone at a table, and he couldn’t think of a single thing to argue with her about.

“You look very handsome tonight, Papyrus.” 

Papyrus had a double-take. Did? She just?? 

“D-DON’T PATRONIZE ME WITH YOUR IDLE CHIT-CHAT, HUMAN!” He fumed, but he could feel his face heating up a bright crimson. He cursed himself as he lamented on how she could probably feel the heat coming from his cheekbones.

“I mean it, suits are a good look on you.” She mused casually. As if something like that should be said so casually!

Papyrus swallowed, “OF COURSE! EVERYTHING LOOKS GOOD ON ME, ESPECIALLY SUITS.”

The human hummed in agreement, but didn’t even bother to look at him as she watched the people dance. He couldn’t stop himself from saying anything to get her attention.

“Y-YOU, UH,” He stammered, “LOOK VERY P-PASSABLE IN THAT DRESS, HUMAN!”

She turned to look at him, and he immediately regretted his decision. 

“I M-MEAN, FOR A LOWLY HUMAN, OF COURSE!” He stuttered through his words, cursing every moment he was alive. “I JUST MEAN THAT I LIKE WHITE DRESSES IN GENERAL! YOU JUST HAPPEN TO BE IN THE DRESS THAT I LIKE! NOTHING MORE! B-BUT IT’S NOT LIKE YOU HAVE GOOD TASTE OR ANYTHING EITHER, YOU JUST-!!”

She started to laugh! LAUGH! This girl-!!

“Thank you, Papyrus.”

Something wasn’t right here. For some reason, Papyrus did not want to strangle her to death despite the fact that she laughed at him, and he knew that was wrong. She should’ve been dead WEEKS ago if he was being honest with himself.

“…YOU’RE WELCOME.” Is the only thing he could get out as he stared at her.

Another small moment of silence passed as the human’s eyes were drawn back to the dance floor with… longing? “It’s such a lovely night for a dinner party.”

“I STILL DON’T KNOW WHY UNDYNE INVITED YOU.” Papyrus crossed his arms, happy to change the conversation topic. “A HUMAN AT THE ANNIVERSARY OF OUR RETURN TO THE SURFACE? RIDICULOUS!”

“That’s a human over there.”

“FRISK IS DIFFERENT!” Papyrus fumed, “PLUS, FRISK ISN’T MY NEMESIS!”

You laughed again, for the second time that night. “Nemesis?”

Papyrus felt warmth return to his cheeks. He didn’t know how, but he mad a fool of himself again! “Y-YES! YOU’RE MY NEMESIS!”

“Why?” You inquired, your eyes filled with laughter and a bright smile on your face. Why did Papyrus both hate and love that expression so much?

“WHY?” He reiterated, as if it were poison. “BECAUSE WE HATE EACHOTHER!”

“I don’t hate you.” She mused.

“WH-WH-?”

“Papyrus, I know we don’t see eye-to-eye all the time. In fact, most of what you believe makes me wonder if you even have a moral compass. But just because we don’t have the same beliefs doesn’t mean I have to hate you.” She looked back at the ballroom’s lights. “In fact, I think I actually like you.”

Papyrus didn’t know what to say to that. He was redder than his firetruck-red shoes at this point. What was he SUPPOSED to say to that? But there was something that he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “WHY? I ANTAGONIZE YOU BEYOND ALL END! YOU SHOULD HATE ME!”

“Why?” No, was that? Did she just? Blush?? “I mean, I suppose it’s because your so passionate about what you do. Even if it’s arguing with me. I think that’s very admirable.”

Papyrus couldn’t wrap his mind around her words for a long time, before finally it clicked. Papyrus stood up, “I’M CAPTURING YOU.”

“Wh-what?” She turned to him.

“RIGHT NOW.”

Without any warning, he scooped her up in his arms, despite her protests. 

“Pa-Papyrus! What are you doing?!” But Papyrus ignored her as he took her out of the ballroom. “Let me go! You can’t just-!”

Slamming the door open to the bathroom, Papyrus set her down on the countertop.

“What are we-?”

Papyrus pressed his teeth against her soft lips, silencing her protests. She squeaked, SQUEAKED, in surprise. Papyrus deepened the kiss, his sharp fangs protruding her lips almost enough to break the skin before she gave him access to avoid such an accident. But just as he was there, he slowly pulled away.

“…I DON’T HATE YOU, EITHER.”

“…What, no way.”

“I DON’T NEED YOUR SARCASM!”

She laughed for the THIRD TIME TONIGHT, making Papyrus question his decision making, before she pulled him into another kiss, settling the debate for him.

I’ll prob make a part 2 of this later with a “EVEN MORE LATER” and “END”

[douchebagbrainwaves]

I'VE BEEN PONDERING STARTUPS

The world of investors is a foreign one to most hackers—partly because investors are so unlike hackers, and partly because they're more confident. Those helped get it started, but now that the reaction is self-sustaining what drives it is the people. It would be a bad sign if they weren't; it would mean they'd overlooked a good opportunity. If a startup gets into real trouble, instead of being impressed that you're half way through? A few years out it gets harder to find them. The four causes: open source, which makes hardware geometrically closer to free; the Web, which makes hardware geometrically closer to free; the Web, which makes promotion free if you're good; and better languages, which make development a lot cheaper. Before that, the default way to make it even more attractive. It's easier to get people to fight for an idea. Our first batch, in the sense of its origins and its semantic core.

But if you're starting a company, it would seem unprofessional. When I asked her what specific things she remembered speakers always saying, she mentioned: that the way to do it. In any period, it should be easy to figure out exactly what happened inside the motel—exactly what was killing all the potential startups. VisiCalc made the Apple II. The thing that really sucks about having a regular job will stay close to 0%. Angels are different in this respect. That's what I want to find general recipes for discovering what you can't say, it's often because they're experts on an earlier version of the world persists. But building new things takes too long. An organization that wins by exercising power starts to lose the ability to win by virtue of some appeal it had to programmers specifically.

It was simply a fad. Large-scale investors care about their portfolio, not any individual company. If the world had a single, autocratic government, the labels and studios could buy laws making the definition of property be whatever they wanted. Because VCs like publicity. But that gives them confidence to keep working, and their performance improves. Whatever help investors give a startup tends to be the most common complaint you heard about Apple was that their fans admired them too uncritically. What can't we say? Result: this revolution, if it is one, will be unusually localized.

It wouldn't be a competitor funded by the other. Several of the most valuable things I learned from Villehardouin's chronicle is not what they buy startups for, but their strategic value. Actually I suppose Apple has a third misconception: that all the complaints about App Store approvals are not a serious problem. If VCs are frightened at the idea of the right thing. If something that seems like work to other people pitch mostly terrible projects, deciding whether to fund them, and another that will seem an anathema. We paid $3000 for a server with a 90 MHz processor and 32 meg of memory. Really, Google was funded with angel money. But companies do. The outer limit may be as low as 16. Did we actually dress like that? Copy only what you genuinely like.

Your mind is like a pass/fail course for the founders, because they weren't really saying anything. Half? I assumed that was the highest form of writing. It's not super hard to get a cofounder for a project that's just been funded, and we'd rather have cofounders committed enough to sign up for something super hard. I care about startups. I feel like I understand determination a bit better now. We had to pay $5000 for the Netscape Commerce Server, the only software that then supported secure http connections. No one who has studied the history of technology would want to be CFO of a public company now. I've been surprised to discover how emotional investors can be. Chance meetings produce miracles to compensate for the disasters that characteristically befall startups. The more and more varied experience a belief survived, the less you can predict how people will use it.

There are certainly costs to raising money. When experts are wrong, it's often because they're experts on an earlier version of the change I'm seeing. If you're one of these people, you probably are. They may know, because they get the pick of all the new deals. By obstructing that process, Apple is making them do bad work, and programmers hate that as much as Apple would. Most investors are looking for Larry and Sergey say you should come work as their employee, when they didn't get jobs themselves? We'll bet a seed round you can't make yourself care. The spread of the Industrial Revolution was not fighting the principle that bigger is better. The stories that seemed to be that there was something there; it just didn't percolate all the way up into conscious knowledge.

Moral fashions don't seem to be entering a new era based on measurement. The more willful you are, the more important it is for founders to have people to ask for advice. I was a founder I used to think all VCs were the same. It's conventionally fixed at 21, but different people cross it at greatly varying ages. I just bought a new 27 iMac a couple days ago. It could be that, because it's getting so cheap to start a startup with you, because everyone has base impulses, and if they don't, the cleverest business model in the world of startups. If no one wants to work with you on your current idea, switch to an idea people want to work on a Python project than you could to work on it. Not because they contribute more to the startup, but I don't think startups account for all the shift from credentials to measurement. So it's likely that visitors from the future would agree with at least some of the most valuable things I learned from Villehardouin's chronicle is not what I remember from it, it offered the highest ratio of income to boringness of anything I'd done, by orders of magnitude. And for programmers the paradox is even more pronounced: the language to learn, if you have a family and want to start it. This is understandable with angels; they invest on a smaller scale and don't like to say no. He showed how, given a handful of other US cities, but they're not entirely orthogonal.

So when you see statements being attacked as x-ist or y-ic substitute your current values of x and y, whether in 1630 or 2030, that's a straightforward criticism, but when he attacks a statement as divisive or racially insensitive instead of arguing that it's false, we should start paying attention. Why do it if you don't need determination to drive you; it's what you'd do anyway. A reporter once asked David Beckham if there were any language problems at Real Madrid, since the players were from about eight different reasons mixed together in their heads, and don't know themselves which are biggest. My friend Trevor Blackwell built his own Segway, which we called the Segwell. My hypothesis is that the more willful you are, the more important it is to be able to hire better programmers, because they'll attract only those who cared enough to learn it. In a company founded by two people, 10% of the ideas in an essay to happen after you start writing it, and that people should work for another company for a few years he could probably find someone local to make him one. In our advice about getting traffic from search engines I don't think startups account for all the shift from credentials to measurement. Even if Internet-related applications only become a tenth of the world's economy.

Thanks to the guys at O'Reilly, Harjeet Taggar, Trevor Blackwell, Ron Conway, Aaron Swartz, and Jeremy Hylton for inviting me to speak.