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pappydaddy · 3 years ago

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Terror at Starcourt Mall i (s.h/r.b)

a/n: this request for the lovely @notsolong-pause took a bit longer since i wanted to make sure i researched russian culture and (especially) the conflict between russia and the states. i tried to focus mostly on the reader's conflict of being confronted with russians who fit the "evil russian" stereotype. therefore, this fic deals with a lot of stereotypes and prejudice. reader discretion is advised.

on another note, here is a little fun fact about me - i am actually trained in russian ballet so i obviously had to connect that as ballet is one of the biggest arts forms to come from russia (aside from literature). I also learned that most russians were pagan before the catholics took over. i wanted to include that someone in here, but i could not find the place to do so.

anywho, i hope you enjoy the fic lovelies and i hope you like it @notsolong-pause💛!

p.s. i didn't know if I should do it for robin or steve, but i felt like season 3 steve would be very open-minded and i wanted to show his character growth, but i also have no long fics for robin. so, i created a love triangle and each character will have an ending. this is my first time writing a love triangle like this so this is pretty exciting for me!

tv show/movie: stranger things

pairing: steve harrington x fem!russian!reader/robin buckley (love triangle)

requested

part i - you're here! | part ii | part iii | part iv

| part v - steve’s ending| part vi - robin’s ending | steve’s ending -steve’s pov (special!) (coming soon)| robin’s ending - robin’s pov (special!) (coming soon)

warnings: this fic deals with a lot of stereotypes and prejudice based on nationality. mentions of nationalism, the fear of violence/harassment, internal conflict (a little), feeling like you need to hide the real you, etc. minor violence.

disclaimer: in light of recent acts of war inflicted on ukraine by russia, i wish to make it clear that i am in no way supporting russia through this series. a, this series was written well in advance to the conflict coming to light and, b, this is set in a different time in history/society/public relations. my heart hurts for the ukraine and for everyone that is effected negatively by the acts of war incited by russia. i am also horribly heartbroken over the people who have died thus far and i am deeply sorry for the families of the people that are stuck in the ukraine or that have died.

sidenote warning: the reader is written to do ballet - explained above. quickly proof-read, will proof-read better when i redo my older fics and edit my newer fics.

sidenote: throughout the series, there will be some scenes skipped. this was a creative choice when i had to edit some things out to shorten it (it was over 100 pages).

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- not my gif -

Being a person of Russian descent living in the United States was hard, especially with the tension between the two countries making it even more difficult. When Y/N’s parents moved their family to America in 1965 (a year before Y/N was born) during the slight ease in the tension, they thought they would be able to live out the American Dream in peace. The year 1979 proved them wrong. With the tension back in its height, it was hard for them to even walk down the street. Y/N had it relatively easier than her family, being able to pass as an American a bit more than the others. This hostility her family faced made her parents even more determined to practice their Russian culture. This meant they had a strong familial bond, like many families in Russia. It also meant that Y/N and her siblings knew many important things about Russia, things they would have learned in school.

They learned of the volcano Kambalny which has been dormant for two hundred and eighteen years as of 1985 - the current year. They also learned about Lake Baikal hidden in the mountains near Siberia, the world's largest, oldest, and (in Y/N’s opinion) most beautiful lake. Aside from basic homeland and geography, they learned of the folklores, legends, and cultural traditions that many people passed down over the years to their children. Learning of the Slavic myths and legends terrified Y/N as a child, but by learning the traditions of her family before her, it taught her of the ancient Pagan background Russia held before Christianity became the norm. As a child, she would fear that when she walked too close to any body of water an angry Vodianoi (a male water spirit) would attack her or at night she would be too scared to sleep in case the evil spirit Bies was hiding under her bed. Regardless, no matter how scared she was of the mythology, she always dreamed of being a Vila, Nymphs described with beauty and youth.

However, it wasn’t just them learning about their culture and the country, their parents made it a point to celebrate every Russian holiday the best they could without the acceptance of the Americans. Their house was full of matryoshka dolls that Y/N’s grandparents made over their many years, pictures of the colourful dome roofs around Russia, pictures and paintings of ballerinas performing various Russian Ballets. Paintings of the various landscapes hung in halls of the house, classical Russian literature overfilled the bookshelves (both the translated and Russian versions). They often ate traditional Russian meals and were instilled with Russian traditions and superstitions. Y/N and her siblings were all enrolled in Russian ballet classes from a young age, but Y/N was the only one who stuck with it. Aside from knowing so much about Russian ballet, each person in the family was fluent in Russian.

The fact that it was well-known to her best friend that she was fluent in Russian and he still didn’t ask for her help when his child friend confronted him about a secret Russian transmission hurt her. “You never thought to tell me?” Y/N asked, her voice high with accusation. Steve stood there, looking like a guilty child who was just caught lying to his parents. Y/N huffed, letting her duffle bag fall to the floor of the Scoops backroom. Robin, Dustin, and Erica watched her as she glared at Steve. She didn’t look overly intimating in her pink ballet tights, leotard, and wrap sweater, but the look she was giving Steve sent chills up their spines.

“You were busy with summer intensives,” Steve shrugged shamefully, his eyes drifting to look at his navy shoes. “I didn’t want to bother you, you’re always so tired after practice.” She rolled her eyes at that. He knew full well that today was the last day of her summer intensive until the next one started in two weeks.

“I could have helped.” She urged, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared Steve down.

“Wait,” Dustin spoke up, looking up at Steve who stood behind his chair before letting his brown eyes drift over to Y/N. “Why would she be able to help more than anyone else?” He asked, looking back up at Steve whose eyes fluttered apprehensively towards Y/N. The way his brown eyes gazed at her, they told her he didn’t want to tell her to protect her. He knew that she didn’t like telling people about her being Russian from past experiences. Someone could only take so much passive-aggressive comments, name-calling, or outright verbal and physical harassment before they just gave up telling people about things. It took her over a just shy of a year into their friendship for Y/N to tell Steve.

“Because she’s bilingual, she speaks Russian.” Steve blurted out, noticing the internal war raging on in her head. He heard how Dustin was playing into the stereotypes. As soon as he heard the transmission, he assumed the Russians were plotting the destruction of America. While that possibility is not yet ruled out and Steve had also assumed the same, it was still possible that some teenagers had fooled around over their walkies and Dustin picked it up.

“That’s so cool,” Robin’s eyes lit up. “It’s cool that you can speak it and you’re not one of these Americans who villainize all Russians by letting the media dictate how you see them,” She expressed. Y/N swallowed thickly at Robin calling her an American. She always hated when people called her American, it was just another reminder of the guilt she felt by being more American-passing than the rest of her family. “You probably learned it through doing Russian ballet, right?”

Y/N nodded hesitantly. “Uh, yeah, through ballet. Just, you know, picked it up,” She lied. “The Vaganova Method is full of Russian terms.” It pained her to lie. Russian ballet used all the same terms and all her ballet teachers spoke English or were pretty much fluent in English. No matter how much Robin showed her support for people who were pressed down by prejudice and stereotypes, she was still apprehensive to disclose her nationality - especially with patriots such as Erica Sinclair and Dustin Henderson in the room. With his big heart and even bigger brain, Dustin was swayed easily, but as much as Y/N wanted to tell him the truth, she was just too worried that the influence of the American school system pulled him towards complete nationalism.

“Well, I don’t see why she can’t help now,” Dustin pointed out. “I mean,” He paused, shrugging as he looked at Y/N. “It might be helpful to have another person on our team.”

“As long as I get my payment for doing this crap, I don’t care if she joins or not.” Erica finally spoke, the beads in her braids clinking as she flicked her hair over her shoulder sassily. Steve sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing nervously. Having Y/N involved wouldn’t just pose a risk to her life, but it would also make it more likely for the fact that she was Russian to slip out. Steve didn’t want her forced to tell Dustin and the others her secret, he saw just how torn up she gets just thinking about what could happen once it gets out.

“I’m down with her joining,” Robin agreed, creating a unanimous vote for Y/N to join their little mission. “That is only if she’s okay with joining,” She added before looking expectantly at Steve as he thought of any reason he could argue for why she couldn’t join the mission. He could argue that it was, in fact, endangering her life, but it was also endangering their lives as well - that argument would never hold up, especially against Erica. “What about you, Steve?”

“Huh?” He asked, blinking as he mimicked confusion, playing dumb to avoid answering the question right away.

“Are you okay with Y/N joining the team?” Robin asked again, bobbing her head as she spoke slower as if she were speaking to a kid. Steve narrowed his eyebrows, an unimpressed scowl on his face.

“I don’t see why she shouldn’t join the team so I’m fine with it as long as she is.” He grumbled begrudgingly, detesting the thought of Y/N risking her life and the exposure of her most kept secret. Suddenly, all eyes turned on Y/N once again. She had to admit, the looming and daunting threat of exposing her secret pre-maturely scared her, but she had just made a big stink about not being allowed to help - she couldn’t just suddenly refuse to help after that.

“I’m fine with helping, just tell me what to do.” She agreed, hoping she sounded much more confident than she was.

____

When she agreed to help, she was not agreeing to plummet halfway to hell in an elevator they had just escaped from. Now, as the five of them wandered aimlessly along a never-ending corridor, Y/N found herself regretting making such a big deal about Steve leaving her out of this. She was thankful that she had enough sense to change out of the uncomfortable tights and leotard combo and into a slightly more comfortable jean mom shorts and baggy band shirt combo. She was also thankful that she was with Steve. Being trapped down here with him saved her from all the fretting and worrying that came with being scared of accidentally revealing her secret.

“I mean, you have to admit, as a feat of engineering alone, this is impressive.” Dustin broke the silence, looking around the high-tech-looking corridor. From beside Y/N (who stood between him and Robin), Steve sent his much younger friend a bewildered look.

“What are you talking about,” He asked, gesturing around to the corridor that was just a more industrial-looking tunnel than the ones they had travelled through to burn the Mind Flayer’s hub a few months ago. “It’s a total fire hazard, there are no stairs, no exit - there’s just an elevator that drops you halfway to hell.” He pointed out the flaws, earning a nod of agreement from Y/N as she kept her eyes on the spotless floor in front of her. Just watching the floor, you would think you were walking in a school or a hospital, somewhere completely normal - not a liar deep under the Starcourt Mall.

Y/N felt a tad bit conflicted. She knew there were bad Russians just like there were bad Americans, but she never actually encountered any of them. Maybe Americans weren’t the only people who were caught up in nationalism. The longer she was down in the Russian base just wandering the tunnel, the more she questioned. There had to be a reason her parents left Russia. Were her parents so caught up in their own egocentrism and nationalism that they forgot to tell her and her siblings how it currently was in Russia? “They're Commies,” Erica spoke up, her eyes staring straight ahead of her. “You don’t pay people, they cut corners.”

“Speaking of egocentrism.” Y/N thought before letting her previous thoughts consume her. Maybe she was being too quick to assume. She had never actually met another Russian outside of her family. Having the first Russians you meet be Russians set on an evil government mission isn’t necessarily indicative of the state of modern-day Russia nor is it relevant to normal, everyday Russians.

“To be fair to our Russian comrades, I don’t think this corridor was designed for walking,” Robin pointed out, gesturing to the length of the corridor. “I mean, think about it, they developed the perfect system for transporting that cargo.”

“It all comes into the mall like any old delivery-” Dustin trailed off, riffing off Robin.

“And then they load it up onto those trucks and nobody's the wiser!” Robin exclaimed, almost excited.

“You think they built this whole mall just so that they could transport that green poison?” Steve pulled a face as he questioned their theory.

Dustin scoffed. “I very seriously doubt it's something as boring as poison,” He remarked before rolling his wrist lazily as he thought, his brows furrowed. “It's gotta be much more valuable, like promethium or something.” He concluded with a snap of his fingers.

“What the hell is promethium?” Steve asked wildly. Y/N had to beg the same question, she had opted out of chemistry classes, but she was sure whatever it was, it wasn’t something like a household cleaner.

“It's what Victor Stone's dad used to make Cyborg's bionic and cybernetic components,” Robin instantly answered. “But, it’s also a highly radioactive chemical that was discovered in 1945.” She added in. Y/N’s eyes lit up at that as she snapped her fingers, gaining the attention of everyone.

“Now I know what that is,” She exclaimed, a wide smile on her face. “It was named after the Greek Titan Prometheus, it’s also not naturally occurring - it’s found in the byproducts of reactions from uranium fission,” She paused, looking around at the shocked faces of the others. “What,” She asked, confused until she remembered that both Dustin and Steve knew how little she knew about chemistry. “I might suck at chemistry, but that doesn’t mean I can’t read things. I just can’t do math.” She defended with a shrug.

“You're all so nerdy,” Erica rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she looked forward once again. “It makes me physically ill.” She pulled a disgusted face.

“No, no, no,” Steve fretted. “No, don't lump me in with them,” He told her sternly as he pointed to Dustin, Robin, and Y/N. “I’m not a nerd, alright?” He insisted, making the three others roll their eyes. There was Steve, still holding onto the social constructs of high school even after he graduated.

Robin, unimpressed, quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why so sensitive, Harrington? Afraid of losing cool points to a ten-year-old child?” She taunted, making Steve send her a scowl in return.

“No,” He defended stubbornly. “I'm just saying I don't know jack shit about Prometheus.”

“Promethium,” Dustin corrected. “Prometheus is a Greek mythological figure Y/N was talking about, but whatever,” He paused, his hands moving around frantically as he tried to get everyone back on track. “All I'm saying is, it's probably being used to make something-”

“Or power something-” Robin interjected.

“Like a nuclear weapon?” Dustin suggested, riffing off Robin.

“Totally.” Robin nodded, seeming even more excited. Y/N sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Russians building nuclear warfare and powering them under Hawkins, Indiana which is in the United States? Yeah, that doesn’t necessarily break the stereotypes Y/N and her family are confined to.

“Walking towards a nuclear weapon. That's great,” Steve remarked sarcastically. “That would be great!” He continued, but nobody paid him any attention - he was just being cranky at this point.

“But if they're building something,” Robin trailed off, but everyone was only half-listening, too absorbed in their own thoughts and worries. “Why here,” She posed the question. Suddenly, right after Robin asked that question, Steve grabbed Y/N’s hand (taking her by surprise), pulling her behind Erica and Robin who didn’t notice that they dropped back behind them. “I mean, Hawkins. Seriously. Of all places-” Robin continued to ramble, not paying attention to anything else than her thoughts as the other three huddled together.

“You think the Russians know?” Dustin whispered, his eyes flicking frantically between Steve and Y/N. Y/N looked across at him with hooded eyes and furrowed brows, completely confused as to what he was talking about.

“About the-” Steve trailed off, hoping his eyes were telling Dustin and Y/N what he was talking about. Y/N breathed out in realization. It would make sense why the Russian government would pick Hawkins’ of all places. Hawkins is a very conservative town, if they wanted to go undetected, it shouldn’t be their first choice when looking for a place to plot an attack on the Americans. It had to be connected to the Upside Down, it was too much of a coincidence not to be connected.

“They could.” Dustin answered his own question.

“So it’s connected?” Steve pressed.

“If it is, then maybe these guys aren’t looking to destroy America? Maybe they were hired by the people who ran Hawkins lab to continue the research secretly,” Y/N suggested lowly, trying to find some way to not automatically jump on the “evil-Russians-trying-to-destroy-America '' bandwagon, earning a strange look from Dustin and a subtle head shake from Steve. “But, no, yeah, I definitely think that it’s connected.” She nodded, clearing her throat.

“Maybe it is.” Dustin nodded, agreeing with them.

“How?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know, but it’s-” Dustin trailed off, sucking in a deep breath. They had all thought that they had finally gotten rid of the horrors of the Upside Down last year when El closed the gate, but yet, here they were once again.

“Possible.” They all finished together with a sigh.

“I'm sorry,” Robin snapped, scaring the three. Whirling around to stand right, they all tried their best to look as innocent as they could. ‘Is there something you'd like to share with the class?” She demanded, her and Erica glaring at the three, but there was something more behind Robin’s glare, something that Y/N couldn’t quite make out. Just as they opened their mouths to retort, a static hiss sounded from the walkie tucked into Erica’s backpack. They could hear a distorted voice of a man speaking Russian as they all stood frozen, hoping it wasn’t a cart coming towards the elevator.

“Walkie-” Dustin and Steve whispered before all three ran towards Robin and Erica. Everyone dropped to the ground to dig through Erica’s bag, the man's voice becoming clearer as it echoed through the silent corridor. Y/N instantly understood the words, her eyes widening as she looked up at the group.

“It’s the code.” She and Robin breathed out together.

“Wherever that broadcast is coming from-” Dustin started to say, but Robin cut him off.

“It’s close, and if there’s one thing we know about that signal-” Robin was cut off by Dustin.

“It can reach the surface.” Dustin breathed, hope blooming in all of their chests. They had a chance of getting out of there after all.

“Let’s go!” Robin ordered, making them all gather themselves up and take off running in search of the comms room.

____

Y/N was just about to let you a breath of relief once they all made it safely through what seemed like a scene straight out of a James Bond movie, but she sucked it back in once she turned around to see a Russian sitting at the comms board. It was pointless, but Y/N wished that if they just stayed quiet enough, the man wouldn’t notice them. The creak of his chair spinning to face them made every ounce of hope she had to evaporate from her body instantly. Their presence seemed to take the man off guard as he yanked the headphones from his head, standing from his chair in an unsure alert, his hand on his gun.

Nobody could seem to do anything else other than stare at each other until the Russian unclipped his holster. Robin stepped forward, standing between the group and the Russian, her hands trying to get him to stop. “Tread lightly,” She spoke in Russian, her face hard. Y/N watched her, open-mouthed, questioning if she had a death wish or not. “Tread lightly.” She repeated.

The Russian’s face melted into confusion as his hand on his gun slightly relaxed. “Who are you?” He asked in Russian. Steve, Dustin, and Erica were completely lost, not understanding what either of them was saying. Robin pointed towards herself, about to say something, but Y/N jumped forward, slipping in front of Robin.

“We are American Spies, we have word of a possible compromise to the mission, we were sent here by the General,” She spoke in Russian effortlessly, but it only made the man more confused. “We are supposed to get key cards to access the elevator to the mall, we have to go investigate before the mission proceeds any farther.” She pressed in Russian, a sense of urgency in her voice.

“We don’t have American Spies, the Mayor has people who make sure nobody comes near here that’s not supposed to.” The man replied back in Russian. Her mind went blank. Of course the Mayor was behind this. He was as corrupt as the day was long. Admittedly, Y/N was in overhead at this point as she wasn’t sure which way the surface was. She did know that the longer she took to reply to the guard, the more suspicious he would become.

“What did he say?” Robin leaned closer to Y/N, whispering in her ear, noting the fearful expression on her face. Her breath tickled the sensitive skin of Y/N’s ear, adding to the clouding of her mind.

“He said that there are no American Spies and that the Mayor is behind this. Give me a second, I’ll try to get out of this,” She whispered back, her hand itching to reach out for Robin’s, seeking her comfort as her heart was about to beat out of her chest, anxiety sitting heavily on her chest. Trying to hide her extreme body shakes fueled by nerves, Y/N nodded as if she knew this. “Yes, we were hired by the Mayor, he was too busy with July fourth celebrations, we have to go report to him now.” She stressed to the guard in Russian.

“I speak English too.” The man replied in a thick Russian accent. Y/N gulped at that, knowing that they were busted.

“Well, that’s not good,” Y/N laughed nervously, having absolutely no idea what to do from there. With a scowl on his face, the man wrapped his hands around the butt of his gun, making Y/N’s blood run cold. “Any ideas now?” She asked the others as she stepped back, the guard walking towards her, his eyes sharp and determined - trained on Y/N first. Just then, Steve let out a loud battle cry as he ran at the guard, his arms straight out to the side. A flicker of fear passed through all their faces, but the fear stayed on the Russian’s face as Steve tackled him to the Comms board, the man raising his arms and pulling the gun out of the holster - the barrel pointed right at Y/N.

Robin reacted quicker than Y/N whose brain seemed to be lagging, her hand wrapping around hers and pulling her out of the path of the gun if it was to go off, but the man wasn’t even thinking of Y/N anymore. With a grunt, he powered up and threw Steve off him, making him stumble into another Comms board along the side, a groan leaving his lips on impact. Y/N winced, jolting as the Russian swung his closed fist at Steve, but Steve dodged it miraculously, leaning back on the Comms board only for his shirt to be fisted by the angered Russian, pulling him off the board by the tie of his uniform. “Oh my god-” Y/N exclaimed as he threw Steve against the board with an angered grunt.

With a sadistic smile, the Russian pulled Steve up by the back of his shirt, assuming he won the fight. The terrified group behind them stayed silent, also assuming the guard’s win. Robin, whose arms were around Y/N still, held her tighter subconsciously, her head burrowing into her shoulder, too scared of what was about to happen as the Russian threw a punch into Steve’s stomach, earning a grunt. Steve didn’t stop, instead, grabbing one of the microphones from the board, tossing it between his hands as the Russian marched towards him. The group jumped as the microphone made contact with the man’s face, sending him spinning around, spit and some blood flying - the smack echoing enough to cause Robin to pull her head from Y/N’s shoulder. A collective gasp left the four when his limp head smacked the main Comms table, letting his body crumble to the ground unconscious.

With wide eyes, Y/N stared at the limp man, not believing that Steve knocked him out. When he didn’t stir, she let her eyes drift over to Steve as he panted, also watching the man in case he got back up. “Well, I guess that was an idea.” She shrugged, not knowing how else to respond, her mind still in shock. When she was looking for suggestions, she did not expect someone to throw themselves at the clearly dangerous guard.

“Dude,” Dustin exclaimed, a wide, toothless smile beaming at his mentor, his eyes wide and bright. Steve looked over at him, running a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “You did it,” He pointed at him. Steve’s dark eyes were blown out as his brain tried to catch up with his body. “You won a fight!”

“Jeez.” Looking down at the unconscious man before looking back at the group, Steve breathed out in realization, smirking.

“You really did win a fight,” Y/N nodded, impressed. Steve let out a chuckle, almost not believing it himself, his goofy smile growing as he looked between the group and the unconscious man. “Now can we get his keycard and sneak out of here before something else happens please?” She pleaded as Dustin rushed forward, plucking the keycard off the man. Robin slowly let her grip on Y/N go, still unsure of the whole situation. Everyone was unsure of the situation. Give Y/N, Dustin, and Steve an interdimensional creature to defeat and they act like they’ve spent their whole lives fighting them, but give them a hidden lab and the Russian government and they are lost.

Seemingly unphased by any of the day’s events, Erica stepped closer to Dustin. “What are you doing?” She asked roughly, making Dustin look back at her as he tried to get the man’s keycard off his belt, not understanding how it was clipped onto it.

“Getting us our ticket out of here.” Dustin told her as if it was obvious before looking back at his task. Grunting as he tried to rip it from the man’s belt.

“You want to walk all the way back?” Erica challenged his plan with a quirk of her eyebrows. Steve, Robin, and Y/N stepped back, shifting their eyes to meet each other over the bickering children. Constantly, Dustin and Erica had been at each other’s necks, leaving the air between the group thick with tension and awkwardness.

“Well, we can hang out for a little bit, relax, have a picnic maybe.” Dustin sauntered up to her, his voice dripping with sarcasm, leaving his task behind in favour of arguing.

“Have a picnic,” Erica asked, clearly not caring for Dustin’s sarcasm. “We came here for the radio.” She reminded him, gesturing to the grand Comms board taking up most of the room. Y/N huffed, closing her eyes as they bickered.

“This plan is way better,” Dustin told her. “If I knew Steve could knock out a Russian, that would’ve been our plan in the first place-” He contended, exasperated with the youngest group member for her inability to read the situation.

“Look, can’t we just take this opportunity, get the keycard and get back to the mall and tell someone who can actually do something about this,” Y/N questioned, clearly stressed and wanting to get out of there. “Even with the radio, nobody will get to us before the Russian’s find us. Steve might be able to beat up one guard, but he can’t fight off all of them.” She pointed out the flaw in the radio plan.

“Y/N is right,” Steve nodded, looking over at her. “Our end goal is to get out of here alive. Staying here would jeopardize that goal,” He concurred with Y/N. It wasn’t as if they couldn’t figure out how to sneak back to the elevator, they made it this far. “The only person who knows we are here is passed out at our feet.” He gestured to the passed-out Russian laying in the middle of the group, nobody realizing the missing person. Y/N and Steve were too busy trying to smooth things over and Erica and Dustin were too wrapped up in their own egos.

“We could take this opportunity,” Dustin pointed out passive-aggressively, looking back at Erica who stood with her arms crossed over her chest and her hip jutted out. “But I guess you’re-”

“Guys,” Robin cut in before Dustin could finish the insult he was hurling, making everyone look over at her. She stood on the bottom step of a very tall and narrow stairwell - her eyes wide, her skin pale as if she had just seen a ghost. Y/N looked at her in concern before lifting her eyes to the top of the stairwell, seeing a blue glow coming from the room at the top. “There’s something up there.” Within seconds, they were all rushing up the stairs and slipping into the room at the top, trying to see what they were working on.

“Woah,” Y/N breathed out, looking at the room connected to it. It was filled with people in lab coats, looking out at something. Even from there, they could hear the low-frequency pulses coming from the machine. “We found what they are powering.” She stated as they all squished together, looking through the windows of the doors.

“Holy shit.” Dustin said under his breath. They all stood there, watching as the nuclear-powered laser hit the red, veiny wall, pulling it apart slowly - a wall Y/N had never seen, but she instantly knew what it was.

“The gate.” Steve and Dustin whispered fearfully as the machine continued the loud thrumming sound, the wall opening slowly the more the laser worked at it.

“That’s not good,” Y/N’s voice shook as a loud shrieking noise came from the wall, barely making it to her ears. She pushed away from the doors to the room, doom waving over her like a tidal wave. It was a sound she thought she would never have to hear again, but here she was. “We have to go, we have to tell the others somehow, warn them.” She turned to the boys, her voice firm with urgency. Now, they were entering the territory they knew and there was no room for fighting over what to do or being unsure.

“I agree, we have to use that pass to get back to the surface.” Dustin pointed towards the stairs. Steve and Y/N nodded in agreement before turning on their heels and jogging towards the door, leaving Robin and Erica to scurry after them in a state of confusion.

“I don’t understand,” Robin finally spoke up as they all jogged down the stairs. She squeezed past Steve who ended up at the back of the pack, landing beside Y/N. “You’ve seen this before?” She asked the three of them, but her eyes were directed to Y/N, Erica paying them no attention as she led them down the stairs.

“Not exactly.” Steve told her truthfully. They, as a group, had never seen the gate until now. Only Hopper, Joyce, and Eleven have ever seen the gate. The closest they ever got to seeing the gate was the underground hub they set ablaze a few months ago.

“Then what, exactly?” Robin pressed, concerned how the three of them knew something about a project being worked on by the Russian government. Y/N was sure that Robin was questioning just who she shared a job with when it came to Steve. She was even sure that Robin was heavily questioning what else she didn’t know about Y/N - the girl she shared classes with and had never shared more than a few words with until the beginning of the summer.

“All you need to know is: it’s bad.” Dustin informed her, hoping she would drop the questions for right now. They all clustered in the Comms room, pausing for a second to try and rectify this situation before continuing.

“It’s very bad.” Steve reinforced Dustin’s statement with an urgent nod.

“Like, end-of-the-human-race-as-we-know-it kind of bad.” Dustin accentuated, his hands flying through the air in order to convey just how dangerous and time-sensitive this issue was.

“Trust us, Robin,” Y/N stopped, grabbing Robin by her shoulders to make her face her. The blonde’s blue eyes were wide with fear and incomprehension. “It’s better that you don’t know about all of this and it’s better for us if we don’t tell you,” She urged. “Besides, you really don’t want to know anything about this nor do you want to be wrapped up in this.”

“And you know about this how?” She ignored Y/N’s warning, pulling her shoulders from her grip, looking between the three of them. Sending a glance at each other, Steve, Dustin, and Y/N all opened their mouths to try and spew truths that didn’t give away their secrets.

“Um, Steve,” Erica spoke up awkwardly. Nobody looked towards her, too busy with either keeping a huge government secret or trying to pry that said government secret out of their mouths. “Where’s your Russian friend?”

Fed up with the constant questioning, Y/N groaned in frustration. “Right here-” Y/N snapped, not realizing that Erica meant the guard. Her eyes widened as soon as the words left her mouth. Spinning around, she hoped that the others just thought she meant the guard. Hope died in her heart when she spotted the obviously missing unconscious person. “Uh, not here.” She cleared her throat, trying to cover her mistake.

Within seconds, an alarm blared out, red, flashing lights flooding the compound. “Shit.” Steve hissed as he ran for the door, pulling it open. More red lights flooded into the room, the alarm echoing louder. Over the ring of the alarm, Y/N could hear a man yelling in Russian.

“He’s telling them about us. We have to find a way out of here now.” She informed them even though she assumed that it was self-explanatory. They had missed their chance of escape, making Y/N curse in her mind.

“Halt! Halt!” The guards yelled, spotting Steve poking his head out the Comms door. He automatically closed the door, pressing all his weight into it.

“Shit,” He hissed again. Turning his head to the side, his eyes widened. “Go, go, go, go, go,” He yelled, waving his hand towards the stairs. Everyone else took off running, but Y/N. Her eyes jumped around the room as it seemed to spin slightly, trying to formulate a plan that would buy them just a bit more time to find a way out. “Y/N, come on!” Steve yelled, running back to try and grab her. She shrugged him off.

“Go ahead, I will catch up,” She insisted, dashing towards the microphone Steve had used to knock the Russian out with. Her hands wrapped around the smooth plastic, feeding it through the stainless steel handle of the door twice before running to the stairs. Steve stood at the bottom, his hand stretched out desperately for her to grab onto. “Hang on,” She told him, wrapping the coiled cord around the joint of the railing, knotting it off. “That should hold them, but we have to get out of here fast.”

Steve didn’t reply, only grabbing her hand tightly and tugging her up their stairs to catch up with the rest of them. Below, they could hear the guards struggling with the door due to the tension created with the cord. Looking back, she could see the door only opening a little before the cord pushed it back closed. “I honestly had my doubts about that working in this circumstance.” She breathed out in relief as Steve pulled her up the stairs.

“Shit!” Dustin exclaimed, bursting through the first set of doors just as Steve and Y/N gained on them.

“Move! Let’s move!” Steve ordered as they all skidded through a turn to get into the second set of doors they were just peeking through. Suddenly, Dustin, who was leading the pack, stopped, nearly making everyone behind him run into each other. In unison, four seated scientists all turned to face them, their office chairs squeaking. The three standing scientists blinked at them.

“Go, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Steve freaked out. Dustin looked from side to side before running off to his left, everyone else following.

“There has been a breach, lock the door,” Y/N was able to bark out an order in Russian before Steve pulled her after him with a sharp tug, nearly making her trip over herself. “Hurry!” She barked at the scientists again, hoping they would buy it. When she heard the slaps of dress shoes running to the door, she knew that they had fallen for it.

“Go, go, go!” Steve called as they ran along a catwalk, running directly towards the laser and the gate. Down below, they could hear yells in Russians. Letting out a battle cry, Dustin shoved a man in a hazmat suit against the railing, making room for them to run by.

“There has to be a way to the corridor down below, there are guards down there!” Y/N yelled over the whirling of the laser, still shooting its beam into the fleshy wall of the gate. They all screeched to a halt, nearly being blown back by the spinning force of the laser.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, shit,” Dustin sucked in a large amount of air. “Holy Shit!” Dustin screamed, barely being heard over the laser. Behind them, they could hear the clang of the guard’s boots running along the metal catwalk towards them, making Steve and Y/N look over their shoulders. Her plans didn’t hold them off long enough.

“Guards,” Steve yelled out the warning. “Go,” He tried to instruct, but nobody could find a way down. “This way!” He yelled, spotting a staircase down to below the catwalk. Shoving another man in a hazmat suit, Steve cleared the way, pulling Y/N along.

“More guards, Steve!” Y/N yelled, pointing to the group of men dressed in green and red uniforms as they ran from a hidden corridor.

“Oh, shit,” Steve exclaimed, dropping her hand to slam himself against a stack of metal barrels, bangs of the metal hitting the concrete floor filled the entire room. “Oh, shit!” He yelled again out of adrenaline. Willing her already exhausted legs to push harder, she ignored the way her heart screamed in agony for her to stop. Everything was muffled around her as she blindly followed Robin who ended up at the front.

“This way,” Robin found a door, yanking it open, she flagged the others down. Just as her legs refused to pump any faster, Y/N ran into the room after Erica, panting. Automatically, her hands fell to her knees as her face screwed up in pain as her chest burned. “Come on, quick!” Robin yelled to Dustin and Steve as she held the door open, waving them into the room. Robin ran farther into the room as Dustin’s sneakers slapped against the clean tiles, Steve skidding in less than a second later, automatically throwing himself against the door to barricade them in.

“I told you guys we should have left after Steve knocked the guard out.” Y/N wheezed, grabbing at her side as a stitch formed as they ran around the room, searching for a way out.

“Robin!” Steve yelled through gritted teeth as he struggled against the Russian’s incessant pounding on the door. Robin’s sneakers squeaked as she stopped, looking back at Steve. Y/N also stopped, looking back at him.

“Shit!” Dustin screamed, too overwhelmed to look for a way out. Robin ran back to Steve as he strangled out a few words that Y/N couldn’t understand. Y/N bit her lip, debating whether or not to help them, but the sound of a struggle on the platform beside her caught her attention. Looking over, she rolled up onto her tiptoes, seeing Erica struggling to open a hatch.

“Dustin, come on,” She grabbed his arm as he spun around in a panicked circle, his hands gripping the curls that escaped out from under his ball cap. Pulling him up the few steps to the platform, she yanked him past her, making his shoes clang on the metal. “We have to help her open this.” She pointed to the large hatch door Erica struggled to pry open. Wiggling her fingers under the gap Erica had made by pulling on the handle, she used all her strength to fling it over, the heavy metal crashing against the metal of the platform, the sound reverberating within their bones.

“Here, come on, let’s go!” Erica yelled, her voice sounding like it was on the verge of tears. Y/N helped her ease into the steep slope, the young girl disappearing to wherever it led within seconds. Looking back at Dustin, she waved him to go, but he didn’t move, only standing up to look back at Robin and Steve as they strained to keep the door closed, their sneakers slipping and skidding on the floor.

“Come on!” Dustin waved them over, pointing to the open hatch.

“Go! Just get out of here!” Steve waved the two of them off, but Dustin wasn’t listening.

“Just come on, now!” Dustin insisted.

“No,” Steve yelled aggressively. “Just go get some help okay?” He ordered them as Dustin hopped in the hatch, his feet squeaking against the slick aluminum of the sides of the slope, his hands planted firmly on either side of the hatch. They shook, trying to keep him up as his sneakers slipped against the slick aluminum. He wanted to argue, but Y/N cut him off.

“Steve is right, Dustin,” Y/N turned to him, trying to shove his shoulders down into the hatch, but he wasn’t budging. “Once they let go of that door, the guards will get in and they think we’re American Spies sent to destroy their mission - they aren’t going to take kindly to us once they catch us. You need to go.” She explained.

“You need to go too, Y/N.” Steve informed her, making her snap her head towards them.

“Yeah, you have to go with them,” Robin agreed, her eyes screwing shut as she bit down on her lip, struggling even more to keep the door closed. “I trust you to keep them safe, but most importantly, I trust you to find a way to save us.” She let her eyes flutter back open, her captivating blue eyes filled with fear and urgency. Swallowing thickly, Y/N stared into them, trying to argue.

“Plus, we need you to be safe,” Steve urged, making her look at him. “You and I both know that you can’t be caught here. They will make up whatever truth they want about you and if you don’t tell them what they want to hear, they’ll assume you’re lying. And you know that they will figure out your secret, Y/N.” Steve pleaded, his foot slipping as a Russian shoved the door extra hard.

“But-”

“Just go!” Steve and Robin yelled at her.

“Just go, protect yourself and the kids.” Robin continued, pleading with her to listen to them. Rolling her lips together, she looked over at Dustin.

“Go Dustin, I’ll be right behind you.” She ordered him, trying once again to shove him down.

“What are you doing,” Steve yelled to Dustin as he fought against Y/N’s hands on his shoulder, his sneakers squeaking against the aluminum as his feet slipped slightly. “Go!” He yelled in sync with Robin, their arms slacking slightly against the door as they quickly became exhausted, the adrenaline leaving them.

“I won’t forget you!” Dustin yelled.

“Go!” They yelled at him again just before Y/N gave him the final shove. Letting his feet leave the sides, he shot down the slope. Before Robin or Steve (or both) could yell at her, she dangled her feet into the hatch and scooted to sit on the edge. Bracing to push herself in, she looked up at them.

“I’ll find a way to rescue you guys, don’t worry.” She reassured them before she gripped the hatch door, using her body weight to yank it up straight. With one last fleeting look towards Steve and Robin, she saw their nervous eyes looking at her already. Wasting no more time, she jumped in, letting the hatch fall closed over her with another bang. Guilt and nerves chewed at her stomach lining as she slipped down the slope to land next to Dustin and Erica. Sitting up, she joined the other two in looking around at the vast, aluminum tunnels.

“Where are we?” Erica asked, her voice echoing through the maze-like structure as they all gawked, trying to figure out where to go from there.

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midcenturygoth · 2 years ago

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ranking my own zosan fics

tooting my own horn... or criticizing my writing.

11. snack time ahoy this one ranks last because its just a couple hundred word, a short experimental one shot/drabble. personally, i like it and think its cute

10. Once in a While yes, its the drabble collection, hahaha! some of the drabbles are of higher quality than others, but theyre all pretty short, pretty fluffy. nothing to be too mad at

9. attractive i know that this is, by numbers, one of my more popular fics but... its one of the more... low effort pieces, quite frankly. as always, its cute, fluffy, lighthearted, funny... i like writing more wholesome fics.

8. the GOLD we made along the way this fic is... an AU, for one, a modern AU. its also more angsty than my other fics, i think. idk, i feel like the characters are a bit ooc. which usually comes with them not being in their canon setting, i suppose

7. join the circus, it’ll be fun (they said) this is also an AU and tbh it’s a bit out there. its a bit off the rails. circus AU? i cant really explain this one. i think its fun, though

6. Something Golden one thing about me... i’ll use the word gold and something in a fic title. this one is almost set in canon universe. as much as a fic where two characters fall in love that wont ever fall in love in actual canon... can be. its sweet, bit melancholic at the end but tbh not really because we know... theyre gonna get together. in this canon-non-canon universe

5. Professional Hair Care this is a one shot where i think i might write a continuation. bc i liked the idea, i like writing “elderly” zosan, when theyre all settled down... i like this fic but id like it more if it was.... if i wrote... more. expanded upon this universe.

4. sanji hates (winter islands) my first zosan fic! i think it mostly still holds up, its also my second most kudos’d fic, so i think people like this one. its fluffy (as i usually provide, fic wise), sort of pre-slash. i kinda like leaving fics open as pre-slash but like. its clear theyre in love with each other, so its never that open of an ending.

3. Fisherman’s Delight to be honest... as this is a multi-chap fic and still on-going... lets just say i have hopes for this. i want to get it done, even if its all short chapters... i kinda want it to be/read like a diary? journal? but not really. id never write in first person, bc we have left that in the 2010s. its not high lit but im enjoying the journey of writing it so far.

2. Flutter Fairy Island technically canon. and also veryyy out there, i know. its fairy-tale based and i admit that its a bit... something else. however, i do think this is an underrated fic. but that might just be me. it really is a bit experimental but also, like, classic... classic tropes, iykwim? idk, i just like this one

1. Old Men Blues my post kudos’d fic! as ive mentioned, i love old!zosan. “old”. theyre ageless, timeless, haha! ive also thought about continuing this one bc... again... i love writing older zosan. settled down. househusband!zoro. hihihi

#zosan #one piece #zosan fic #zosan fanfic #zoro #sanji #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #fanfiction #fic #writing #op

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klaus-is-the-real-number-1 · 4 years ago

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The House of the Rising Sun (Number 5 x reader)

A/N: This is an unfinished fic ive had in my drafts for well over a year,, enjoy? based of s1

Crime rates had never been higher, gangs ravaging the city any opportunity they got dealing class A narcotics and carrying out random acts of violence. No one leaves their houses at night, as soon as the sun sets the streets would empty and complete anomie would take place. One ‘gang’ were set above the rest, they were practically the equivalent of the mafia, all dressed in a smartly pressed uniform and operating throughout the entire city, the Umbrella Academy. Rumour has it they all had ‘powers’ of some sort, making them the most powerful gang, even if they didn’t have their ‘powers’ they would still be in the lead having very high levels of violence between them.

The Umbrella Academy all had nicknames, a mere murmur of the said names would send people running like scared dogs, tails between their legs. The most feared of the Umbrella Academy was The Boy, just as him name suggested he was the one no one knew anything about, yes there was rumours but never any solid facts. The Boy had apparently travelled to the future, has a kill count of hundreds and can appear in a flash of blue from thin air, but these are just mad rumours that drift round town.

Dusk set upon the city but you didn’t notice, too busy finishing bouquets in your shop. You ran a small florists on the outskirts of the town, you never caused any trouble and had never stayed late until today. You glanced out the window and gasped, looking at the pitch black sky, feeling your heart rate increase at the thought of walking four blocks in the gang ridden town. As quickly as you could you close the shop, making sure the doors were locked and the solid metal shutters were firmly shut. You leave by the back door, locking it and closing the shutter yet again, not leaving your small life source of a shop to the vengeance of raging gangs who carry out pointless crimes.

Shadows hid your small frame as you quickly walked home, defenceless, hoping to miss anyone out at the late hours of the night. Unfortunately, luck was not playing on your side, from the shadows you could make out a group of lads making their way threateningly down the street. All you could do is pray that you wouldn’t get spotted in the dark shadows.

“Well what do we have here?” You quickened your pace somehow thinking that you could move away from them but you were wrong. You were surrounded like you were feeding bread to a flock of seagulls, if the seagulls were feral and had rabies it would mirror how afraid you were at that moment.

“Sorry!” Is all you were able to squeak out as you were roughly pulled out from the safeness of the dark into the centre of the group, your bag getting ripped off your back. Your frozen, watching them go through the contents of your bad, dumping out all your papers and pens that you had in your bag until finally finding your purse. “Please don’t it’s all I have.”

As soon as the words left your mouth you were on the ground, a numbing pain shooting through the side of your head, you could see heavy droplets of blood hit the floor as your nose bled from the impact. Another sharp impact landed against your ribs as a sob wracked through your shaking body, unable to comprehend how quickly the events had escalated, all you could do now is wait for the next impact but it never came.

“Hey, assholes!” The voice was crisp and sharp, dripping with confidence and authority. “Pick on someone your own size.”

Coins fell to the floor as the gang dropped your bag and your purse and ran, you couldn’t even look up, the thought of someone more threatening than an entire group sent shivers down your hurt body. You didn’t hear footsteps, all you saw from your peripheral vision a blue light and a dark figure. The rustling sound of papers cut through the silent street and the harsh zip of your bag startled you.

“You need to see someone about that.” You look up and were met with none other than The Boy, the most questioned of the Umbrella Academy, dressed in a smart uniform, domino mask securely covering his identity. His fingertips lightly brushed the side of your head, causing you to flinch away. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He said unconvincingly, emotions hidden by the mask.

He held your now packed bag out to you, you lifted yourself off the floor, wincing as you did so. You cautiously took your bag from The Boys hand, holding it loosely in your hand. Taking a step, you stumble, your side collapsing in on it’s self, The Boy caught you, putting his arm around your waist to steady you.

“Here, let me help you home, where do you live?” In your shattered state you told him, and in a blink of blue you were at your door. You messily fumble with your keys as your shaking hands roughly push your door open, dropping your bag into your small apartment.

“Thank you.” The mask clad boy stood before you, hands in his shorts pockets.

“It’s okay,” You couldn’t see his eyes but you knew they were scanning over your body. “Make sure to get your injuries checked over, they got you pretty hard y/n.” Then he was gone.

You lock your door and double check your windows, securing them before limping over to your bathroom, looking at your beaten form in the mirror. Red marks spread over your face and the side of your body, bruising already starting to form, blood stained your white patterned shirt with a now ruined name tag, the thought of work taking over your thoughts, well not all of your thoughts. The Boy was also on your thoughts, his cold emotionless face, half covered by a domino mask, contrasted with the softness of his words, the caring nature of his touch. He’s a crime lord, a dangerous man, yet he showed kindness to you.

Five was angry, he was angry with himself that he didn’t get there quick enough to stop them hurting y/n. She was the only pure thing left in the city and they went for her, defenceless. Five would’ve killed them on the spot if he didn’t want to hurt y/n any more than she already was. He wasn’t actively going out of his way to find y/n, she was sunshine in a grey and broken world.

“Five,” He hadn’t even finished teleporting into his room before Luther started speaking. “We’re not meant to be out on the streets. What were you doing?” Luther’s big frame towered over Five, attempting to threaten him.

“I was out doing what were meant to be doing, keeping our authority through the streets. Haven’t you heard that they’ve been saying we’re weak.” Five snarled at his brother prompting Luther to sigh then walk out. It wasn’t always like this, they could’ve been heroes but Mr Hargreeves only saw the darkness and the powers within them, he made them the best at being the worst and for some it was the end of the line.

An aching agony wracked through your fragile body as your head pounded like a thousand drummers sounding the beating retreat. You hoped a shower would ease any of the pain, warm water running over all of your bruises, the side of your body looking like a black and blue watercolour along your ribs. Your work clothes were just casual, simple, it was one of the upsides of owning your own business. However, you did have an apron, it had different flowers embroidered on it and a simple name tag. A name tag now covered in blood.

Quiet music softly played in the background of your flower shop, you swept the floor in time to the music, swaying your hips as you did so. Heading back to the storage room, you heard the bell to the shop chime, a welcoming noise.

“Hey, how can I help?” The man seemed startled, looking up at the arrangement of bouquets and flashing a quick smile.

“I’d like some flowers for my mom,” He almost hesitated with his words, a soft peach colour present on his cheeks. “I saw your shop yesterday and couldn’t remember the last time anyone had got her any.”

“Awe, that’s super sweet, have any of the bouquets caught your fancy or does she have a flower preference?” The boy in front of you was about the same age as you, maybe older, he had sharp features but they were even out by the softness of his eyes.

He thought for a moment, searching the deepest parts of his brain. “Lilies, she likes lilies.” You smile at his words before looking round your small, compacted shop for any pre-made bouquets.

“We don’t have any made up right now but if you come back,” You look at the clock, thinking about a convenient time for him to come back. “In about 2 hours I’ll have one made up for you?” You give him a sweet smile as he nods. “Great! If you want you can leave your name and number so I can text you when its done.”

You watch him messily write his details on a post it note. Peeling it off the block, you stick it to your notice board, looking at his name as you did so. Five. “I’ll send you a text once your bouquets done!”

“Ok, thank you,” He hesitated as he strained to read your name tag. “Y/n.”

“No problem, Five.” You see a small smile break out on his face as he left the shop. The rest of your day dragged as a slow drip of customers drifted in and out of the shop. You made a large bouquet of different types of lilies for Five, taking extra care to arrange them in the prettiest way you could, making it extra special for his mom.

You admire your handy work, loving when you get special orders being able to be as creative as you want. You send a text to Five saying that he can drop in any time from now until closing to pick them up, you get an almost instant response sending his thanks.

Shouting echoed down the street, sharp crashing of glass cutting through the air. Smoke drifted like ghosts down the street as screams echoed down the road of people coughing, spluttering grasping for breath. Peering out your shop window you saw them again, the lads from the night before, petrol bombs in hand ready to throw. You had to consider you options, quick, close the shutters quickly and run out the back or just run out and risk that they recognise you.

Quickly, you pulled the shutters down as you hear the unruly lads shouting get louder, you think your safe but then you remember the window upstairs, wide open, vulnerable. Taking two steps at a time but you were halfway to the window and heard a ‘get the flower shop’.

A flame like a rabid hare shot past you, shattering on the ground followed by another, hitting the window dead on surrounding you in flame, no escape in a smoke filling room. Smoke licked the walls as smoke danced in your lungs, making you feel lightheaded, blurring you vision. The floor burnt as you dropped to your knees, trying to take in any remaining oxygen, begging for your eyes not to close.

As Five walked back to the flower shop only to be met with shouting, screaming and sirens, noticing the smoke in the air he quickened his pace, only to break out into a sprint at the sight of the small flower shop in flames. He couldn’t see y/n out in the street in front of the shop, in a blind panic he blipped into the shop, looking round and seeing smoke pouring down the stairs, dread filling his body. In a blink of an eye he was in the burning room, finding y/n unconscious on the floor, he grabbed her body and as quickly as he could in the haze of the smoke.

He flashed to the academy, roughly shaking y/n shoulder. “Y/n,” He checked she was still breathing. “y/n please. Wake up. Mom!” Grace came round the corner, watching her son frantically shake an unconscious body.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Grace’s calming voice did nothing to sooth the panicking boy, she looked at the girls flame licked skin. “Take her to the medical room, Five.” Without another word Five had flashed upstairs, Grace beginning jogging up the stairs wrapping her medical apron around her as she did.

You gasp awake, proceeding to cough up whatever smoke settled in your lungs. You didn’t recognise the room around you, it didn’t look like any normal hospital, or even a hospital at all. Panicking at the foreign surroundings you drag yourself out of the bed, body screaming out at the heat in your arms and palms from the fire, the fire, your shop. Before even having time to comprehend the series of unfortunate events that led you up to this point, a woman walked in, sending heaving 1950/60′s vibe.

“Hello dear, I’m Grace.” Grace had a soft voice but it didn’t sound quite right, it sounded almost robotic, not human.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.” You pushed past her and hope to find a way out of the large eerie house you were in. Panic mode overtook your whole body as you tried to find any way out, footsteps echoing behind you as Grace tried to catch up with you but you saw the front door and ran for it.

“My dear, you can’t go yet!” But you had already ran out the door, it being left wide open behind you, sprinting down the street probably looking like a madman but in that moment it didn’t matter to you, you had to get out.

#The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #number 5 #number five #five hargreeves x reader #number 5 x reader #number five x reader #number five imagine #number five oneshot #number 5 imagine #five hargreeves imagine #this is so old and unfinished but al post it anyways

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nancydfan · 4 years ago

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do you ever read the comments on something in this case jacksepticeyes video of the finale for RE8 and get very annoyed like one person said this "think it only made extremely gullible and sensitive people feel bad for him. You act like he’s a trailblazing new character type when we’ve seen his character a hundred times before. Just not in a resident evil game." (said this before and I'll say it again I HATE YouTube block button) and Sean (jse himself) going Idk I just hate Ethan. I don’t think he’s a good character. Just give me Chris. yeah when I read he was going to say that I just skipped the video and am now listening to the song With You from Ghost the musical and I am sad (peak Mia after Ethan's death)... sorry for the vent

My dear nonnie *hugs* you’re always more then welcome to vent in my ask box. I have tea and scones and a listening ear for anyone.

I haven’t been reading too many comments because I haven’t watched much since I played it myself and I’m a little emotionally raw atm. I did however watch jacks last video cause I have already decided that I won’t watch a whole playthrough if they’re not kind about ethans death. And he said at the very end he thought Ethan was a shitty character and proceeded to suck chris’ dick for five minutes like ok you’re dead to me.

However, I am lead to believe he received a lot of comments supporting Ethan based on what he said in his speed run on twitch.

From what I have read, I think most people seem to like Ethan now but hey I could be wrong. It’s just not what I’ve stumbled on. Like if you don’t feel anything then I don’t know what to say because it’s gut wrenching but okie dokie??? Some people live to hate Ethan and I don’t think we can change that even after all he did in re8. I will say his game, re7, is currently still the best selling RE game so they can kiss ethans ass.

Also some people clearly got into this game for lady D alone and yeah aren’t exactly happy which I mean whatcha gonna do.

Ive been listening to Unchained Melody cause I have some fics where Ethan returns and I’ve got to get inspiration 🤭 ppl bitched about Ethan last time and they still brought him back so I think if Capcom is inclined we still win 😉

#thanks for the ask nonnie 💜💜💜#hugs and tea all around #resident evil spoilers #ethan winters #resident evil 8 #resident evil #mrs joe speaks

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halorocks1214 · 3 years ago

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the law of gender

Word Count: 7773

Summary: The Law of Gender states that everything has its masculine (yang) and feminine (yin) principles, and that these are the basis for all creation. The spiritual Initiate must balance the masculine and feminine energies within herself or himself to become a Master and a true co-creator with God

hello thunderfam community, its, uh *looks at the last part's published date that says november 2020* been a while, huh

not gonna lie, if i had a nickel for every time i wrote 2/3 of a fic for this series and then didn't touch it for months, only to finish it in a few day-long spam sesh, i would only have two nickels, but its concerning its happened twice /lh

i swear to god this series wont be abandoned. unlike other fandoms of mine that i kinda lost interest in thunderbirds is one that is /gen always in the back of my brain (plus i did outline a TON of this AU, far more than im willing to just say "lol im done" over ya know)

also, to the influx of m/c/y/t-based followers ive gotten over the past few months due to my latest hyperfixation that decided to read this: um, hi, if none of this makes sense, that sounds about right. if you wanna know more about tbs and its various incarnations, my inbox is always open, esp since this series im writing is very much an AU and waaaaay darker than the incarnation its based on :> do be gentle tho, tbs is a very teeny fandom, and i mean that in a 'posts only get a couple hundred notes at most' type deal

also, one last note to the thunderbirds side of things: there will no longer be an ao3 link on the tumblr post of the fic because tumblr likes shadow banning things with links that go outside of tumblr! which is probably why the last part didnt do so well :D awesome! i hate tumblr i swear to GOD

anyways, please enjoy!

Valerie Casey thought Jeff was the craziest man she had ever laid her eyes upon.

“Jeff, you’re the craziest man I’ve ever had the chance to lay my eyes upon.”

Playfully shrugging his shoulders, Jeff Tracy leaned back and gripped his beer bottle tighter while using his other hand to grip the back of his chair so he didn’t fall out of it and onto his ass. They were in public, “C’mon, what’s the issue?”

Casey was going to lose it, “Really? I knew the ego boost that you would get from being the First Man on Mars alongside running your very own extremely successful company would be huge, but I never even dreamed it would be this ridiculous.” She fidgeted with the napkin on the table closest to her before finally saying it, “Colorful rockets that can practically defy God himself-”

“And a submarine and space station.”

She nearly threw her hands up into the air, “That’s not the point, Jeff! Do you seriously see there being no issue in making technology that is more advanced than most technology to date out of the blue without giving those in power input first? You know what they could do if it makes them angry? You’re seriously just going to hop in without thinking about any of it?”

He looked her dead in the eyes, “Yes...”

She was going to form a migraine very quickly it seemed, “Money might be useful but it really can’t fix everything, you know. There’s a nice middle ground between ‘money can’t make you happy ever’ deniability and… whatever the hell it is you’re going through.”

It appeared as if he wasn’t done, however, “... Because I have you.”

Whatever Casey was expecting, it wasn’t that.

Jeff leaned forward, “A respected Major in the GDF? Throwing in her two cents? They would eat that up and maybe take my ideas into consideration.”

Casey blinked and cleared her throat, the point Jeff was going for getting to her for some reason, “Well, that’s your first problem. You don’t even know if I will give my support or not.”

Jeff’s grin got much less cocky and leaned more toward being soft, “Yeah, you’re not wrong there. I can’t force you to be on board, I wouldn’t do that to you. It would be unfortunate to be vehemently opposed to the viewpoint of my best friend, but I’m not going to hold it against you. I admit this idea is somewhat of a pipe dream and based on hopeful desires, but…” Jeff took a slightly pained deep breath, “I just want to prevent another Lucille from happening to anyone else.”

It probably would have hurt less if he stabbed her with a rusty spoon.

Lucy was a spitfire of a woman. Hard-headed, stubborn, but determined and had a sparkle in her eyes as bright as her hair. No wonder Jeff was smitten with the lady when she was there for the Cadets tryout alongside them. Jeff practically fell over backward with infatuation, like a child’s first crush, in a sad, adorable way. Jeff and Lucy were two sides of the same coin, which was why Casey was the only one not too entirely surprised when she said yes to the ring.

The news of her death was… shocking, to say the least, and utterly devastating, to say the most.

The funeral was quick, quiet, the family too busy dealing with a hospitalized Alan as well as the news of the baby of the family being in there spreading through the internet like wildfire. Casey did her best to delete any traces off the web, wringing any rookies a new one for daring to try and stir up the rumor mill, but the world was cruel, electing to see the Tracys as some circus act rather than the grieving family they were.

Jeff was a smart man. An incredibly smart, rich man, one that was a father of five children that he was suddenly in charge of with the help of his mother. Casey too had memories of her parents threatening to move mountains for her if it meant she would be safe. Considering how Jeff… spiraled a little bit after Lucy’s demise, how he left his children to fend for themselves for even just a second too long, it’s no wonder he felt the need to perform some grandiose gesture.

Jeff tended to deal in absolutes a lot. Once he laid his eyes on Lucy he was dead set on wooing her, when he took that first step on Mars he realized he could do even more and made an entire company in his name, so when the man accidentally hurt his children in his grief, what was stopping him in making sure he can go above and beyond to making it up to them (to her)?

Casey was still apprehensive, but, “Okay, let’s see what you can pull off.”

Jeff’s eyes widened and his grin became childlike in its enthusiasm, “Holy shit, you’re really going to back me up on this?”

Casey took a sip from her drink while choosing her next words very carefully, “I will stand by your side when you bring your final presentation to the GDF and other governments who need a say in how this operation will work. If their decision is against that, it’s all up to you. It’s the least I could do after all you have done for me and my wife.”

“Hell yeah, Val, you’re the best!” Jeff cheered, only to get a little too happy in his movements and fall backward out of his chair, straight onto the ground and onto his ass with a loud crash.

Casey could only cover her eyes in the direction of Jeff, wondering why she loved this dumbass as much as she did.

The next two weeks came and went, Jeff and his mother planning blueprint after blueprint after blueprint. Casey even got to briefly meet an old college friend of his, a man by the name… Brains, of all things?

“I-It’s a nickname, M-Miss Major. The name’s Hiram Ha-Hackenbacker, b-but feel free to call m-me Brains.”

So Brains was the third person who joined them on their expedition to impress those above them in power. Casey considered herself an unflappable woman, relatively speaking, so the way her stomach felt like it twisted into knots as she walked into the meeting that would decide their fate was a feeling she absolutely loathed.

The two men gave their speeches, their backstories, and their motivations to the whole idea of a national rescue organization. They talked about the technology and how they would achieve it with no detail being left behind. It was hard to not feel at least some sympathy for the idea when Jeff brought up Lucy, how he had a genuine reason as to why such an operation should exist.

Casey was clearing her throat when the General in the room called for her opinion.

She glanced over at her friend and newfound acquaintance. Brains adjusted his glasses with a grin, and Jeff, being Jeff, gave her a resounding two thumbs up.

Taking a deep breath, she took a step forward and spoke her heart out, “There are bound to be risks with such new and inventive technology, I don’t doubt that. But these guys, these men who stand before you today, well, they are just some of the most special and unique ones I’ve had the opportunity to witness. If there was anyone else behind these ideals, I wouldn’t have even considered it. But Jeff Tracy is no ordinary man, if I may point out. I don’t trust many with my life wholeheartedly, let alone swathes of people, but Jeff? If he put his mind to it, he could lead the world and have my full support.”

She turned back to look at him and felt the tension in her shoulders vanish when she made eye contact with Jeff’s prideful expression. She only hoped the people judging their life choices that could easily nip them in the bud felt the same way. They proceeded to have a brief recess so everyone could relax and make final decisions. This was the first time in a while Casey noticed Jeff rapidly tapping his foot nervously.

It took a lot nowadays for Jeff Tracy to show his nervousness.

Eventually, the recess was over and they were back in the room. No displays or blueprints or holograms, just the three humans standing side by side watching the council file back into their seats one by one. The lethargicness of the whole thing only resulted in making them more worried. Finally, the General was done shifting his papers and clearing his throat, catching the (hopefully) soon-to-be Operatives’ attention.

He stood up and brushed off his pants before giving the final verdict, “We are aware that an idea such as International Rescue is very original, so much so that it’s unheard of. There is bound to be pushback from the leaders of the world due to such an unorthodox method of action.”

The three stood with bated breath.

The General let out an elongated sigh, “However, Colonel Tracy is a valued Cadet, one with unrivaled skills and smarts. If he and his colleagues want to put in the work of figuring out how his operation can interact within the laws of other countries, then we don’t see why he can’t pull it off.”

They nodded their heads with grace and thanked the higher-ups for giving them the leniency to pull off their plan. Only once they were outside the building did they start cheering and whooping. “Hell yeah!” Jeff yelled with a fist in the air, “Operation Thunderbirds is a go, lady, and gentleman!”

Brains opted to get an early night’s sleep while Casey and Jeff went to a nearby bar to celebrate even further. The two clinked a glass, and Jeff froze right before the drink touched his lips, “Do you think she would be proud of me?”

Casey swallowed the liquid that she was holding in her cheeks, realizing who ‘she’ was immediately, “Of course, I think she would have fallen in love with you all over again after seeing the amazing man you became.”

Jeff’s grin got even wider, finally taking his own sip, “Heh, that does sound like something she would do.”

Time flew by faster than expected, and Casey got to know Jeff’s sons more and more. Scott and John were showing early signs of being the best of the best, and Virgil and Gordon might not have been following so closely in their father’s footsteps, but the careers they were pursuing were extraordinary nonetheless. She couldn’t wait to see their names inevitably appear in the news for their accomplishments.

And baby Alan was cute, fine, she’ll admit that to herself.

Throughout all the building and the planning and even the babysitting, she and Jeff continued to go on missions together, laughing in the happy moments as they came and went. The ‘Birds themselves might not have been fully completed, but that was a test of the magnitude of their potential when they looked so good even in their halfway-built stages. Casey was just lucky everyone else heard her occasional slips of the tongue of ‘International Rescue’ as a fun little nickname for Jeff while on jobs.

Not that the man helped in any way to persuade them to think otherwise.

“The magnifique International Rescue, ey? Can’t believe I’m so good at my job I can save the whole world just by flexing an arm.”

The bastard, Casey couldn’t help but roll her eyes fondly.

The days went by quicker and quicker and Casey had no choice but to start planning an absolutely spectacular send-off for Jeff when International Rescue was fully up and running and he was retired from the GDF. Everything was going excitingly smoothly.

Until a very large blast consumed the sky as well those ambitions.

“Colonel Tracy? Colonel Tracy are you there?!”

“Jeff, please respond!”

“... He’s gone.”

What was once a dream as bright as a star exploded, leaving everyone else to be burned in the place of a man who would’ve changed the world.

---

There’s something to be said about the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Casey was never the biggest fan of comparing soldiers (and other workers in general) to their fathers if said father was in the same field of work. It left too many opportunities for the soldier to gain a bigger ego than needed, or maybe put too much pressure on their shoulders, as well as left the window open for their comrades to use that relation to harm them if they didn’t like what the father did in his time on duty.

But here she was, looking at 26-year-old Scott Tracy, seeing nothing but Jeff again in those piercing blue eyes. The fire and determination of a man who wants nothing more than to save their fellow humans. She looks on with fondness, faint hurt, and confusion. She never expected Jeff to be the one to pass on his characteristics so heavily to his sons. Some hobbies and values, of course, but if Casey didn’t know any better she might have said she traveled back in time itself to watch Jeff try out for the Cadets again.

“Alan! The throttle is not a stick you use to test your wrist dexterity!”

Talking to Jeff’s mother these past few months, however, has led her to believe that there were certain generational practices in the Tracy family she wasn’t aware of. From what she’s seen alone she’s genuinely shocked Jeff never talked more about his mother. Every day she’s been here she has had at least one ah, so that’s where he gets it from moment while watching Mrs. Tracy help teach Alan.

Which was the other elephant in the room.

When Scott and Mrs. Tracy had contacted her with the idea to continue Jeff’s legacy, she had jumped at the chance. What Jeff was pulling off was monumental, and she now regretted being against it at the very beginning, but it was hard for a man to continue his ideas when he was six feet under. That’s why she was genuinely thrilled to see that his family was ready to make sure it didn’t die with him.

But when she got to the island and saw that their not-so-adult brother was also going to be a part of that legacy...

“Scott, I know I seem like a buzzkill with the same question over and over again, but are you sure sending Alan out as an Operative is such a good idea?”

Scott glanced at her from the corner of his eye before looking back at his younger brother with a grin on his face, “I know, Colonel, believe me, I know. All arguments have been put on the table in front of us here, some of us have even flipped sides more than once, but if there’s anything we’ve all agreed on, at the very least, is to let Alan show us himself what he is capable of. We shouldn’t make a decision until all the facts are laid out in front of us, right?”

She could feel the Jeff Tracy dripping off those words at an unhealthy level.

Nonetheless, Jeff was a smart man, and his sons even more so, so she finally elected to concede her worries for now, “Fair enough, we shall wait and see.”

Looking back at the scene before them, she watched as Mrs. Tracy placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Alan, I know you’re just jittery and nervous and laughter is your best way to get it out, but you’re not going to be able to handle it that way in the real rescues. Once you’re out there, there’s going to be a whole lot more pressure than just your grandma and brothers watching you.”

Alan shook his head as he slid the VR device off, using his now free eyes to give the beadiest look possible to his grandma, “I know, I know, it’s just so- to think that this kind of stuff might be real sooner rather than later-”

Grandma patted his back a few times, “Yeah, we get ya honey, but still, the people inside the collapsing satellite aren’t going to want to hear you talk about how cool the rocket is, they’re going to want you to save them before they become deep-fried astronaut.”

Alan nodded while placing the device over his eyes again, “Right, gotta focus, gotta focus!”

Casey turned to watch the screen before Grandma was fully backed away from Alan in the training simulator. With a flick of white, the display was showing yet another asteroid belt. The entire point of these tests was to see Alan’s reaction times and reflexes, as well as the whole ‘how good of a pilot he really was’ thing. It was set up to start right after a few astronauts were saved from a malfunctioning satellite, but right as they were leaving, a dangerous asteroid storm was hitting, and thus to complete the rescue, Alan would need to navigate his way out of it.

Of course, much more training would take place afterward- the etiquette of what to say to the people you were rescuing, how to properly carry unconscious people, where to place your hands on someone who needed the extra support, et cetera- but the main part of Alan’s job as an Operative would be flying a giant red rocket. She could see the merit in testing out that particular skill first.

One could argue that just because Alan couldn’t fly one of the ‘Birds didn’t mean he couldn’t be an Operative on the ground, to which Casey was 87% sure she heard John planning something like that for the youngest if he didn’t do so well in the simulations, but with the whole ‘a square is a rectangle but a rectangle isn’t a square’ idea in mind, if Alan could quite literally pilot a giant red rocket, then they could safely assume he would be able to do many other things.

So far for this run, Alan seemed to be doing quite well. Keeping his rescuees calm when they panicked, reacting right in time to avoid a stray asteroid. The only mildly concerning thing was when a smaller asteroid dinged one of the thrusters of the rocket, causing some turbulence and one of the NPCs to let out a cry in fear. Alan rolled his shoulder with a grin, “Relaaaax, I’m sure that didn’t mean anything. Uh, probably.”

Casey winced, conveniently ignoring the facepalm Scott was making out of the corner of her eye. Aha, teenagers and their occasional lack of brain-to-mouth filter. The whole ‘proper etiquette’ training came back to her mind rather quickly. An issue for a later date.

As the simulation continued, the belt got thicker and thicker, and the controls were shakier and shakier. Gordon, who had apparently come up to stand next to her at some point, had a concerned look on his face, “Is that supposed to happen? The sticks going janky?”

John, who was standing next to Scott (Casey realized she had to have been paying way more attention to Alan’s simulation than she thought if she missed two entire new people in her vicinity), crossed his arms, “Nope, guess that asteroid did a lot more damage than he expected. Let’s see how he handles it.”

The family stood taut as Alan looked around, trying to get a good grasp on everything that was heading his way, judging what kind of moves he would need to take with the faulty thruster now as an obstacle in play. Then, the ending was approaching, a mass of asteroids so large it was almost a wall with how many there were. Casey would later shamefully admit how she squinted her eyes in an attempt to look away from what she assumed would be failure.

Because with a sudden gracefulness Alan must have kept hidden away, he threaded the needle through openings even Scott grimaced at. Still, he kept his voice low as he reassured the NPCs that it was going to be okay, even speeding up a little toward the last little bit so they would be out faster and the fake humans would no longer have to be as worried as they were.

As the rocket’s flight path smoothed out and the YOU FINISHED screen slowly seeped onto the screen, Alan took off his VR device and turned around slowly to stare at his family. He grinned nervously once he noticed how all of them had gaping mouths of various sizes and shock, yes, even Casey. He rubbed the back of his neck, “Um, was that good?”

Good, he asked? It was more than good, he nailed it! Perfectly too!

It’s not that they were expecting Alan to crash and burn (at least, not as the immediate option out of all outcomes), but to see him dodge all of the giant rocks as if he were essentially flying a non-damaged rocket, not even being hit once… Casey would say it was nothing short of literal incredibleness.

Scott was grinning from ear to ear, “Well, I think my vote will be an indefinite ‘yes’ from now on.”

Gordon had his arms up in the air, “Woohoo! Go Alan yeaaah!”

Casey felt her own smile form when she noticed how Alan got bashful at the praise. You would think he would have somewhat of an ego with his eccentric personality, but when push came to shove with the ‘serious’ stuff, he was rather humble at heart. Tracys are the same, Casey thought to herself.

Later, during their downtime, Alan decided to play his handheld device near Casey, partially because his brothers were busy in other parts of the house doing the things they specifically wanted to do for their breaks, but probably also because Alan wanted to let the victory-high dissipate a little before facing them. It made sense; if Scott was as similar to Jeff as Casey pictured, then his smothering instincts had to have been intense, his brothers not far behind. Alan had very valid concern about being overwhelmed by their celebrations.

As Casey looked through files on a borrowed datapad she logged into with her work account, she heard Alan speak from off to her side, “Hey, Aunt Casey?”

She raised an eyebrow in his direction, humming in response yet not looking away from the ridiculous contract they were trying to get her to sign. Seriously, some people just thought they could pull a fast one over her as if she weren’t a highly respected Colonel in the industry, good lord.

It was understood she was listening, though, considering Alan continued onward, “... Do you think I could be as good as them?”

My brothers went unspoken only in words.

Stopping all other thoughts immediately, she abruptly looked down into the bright, blue eyes of the youngest Tracy. It was hard to tell how long they stared at each other in silence, that heavy question needing an even heavier answer to satisfy it. In that moment, she felt the world stop. She saw a lot of things in those eyes: childish naivety, a small fire of an ego just waiting for fuel to be added, but most of all, there was one thing that caught her completely off guard.

She saw Jeff Tracy’s determination shining just as much in Alan as she did in Scott.

Now, she doesn’t like comparing those to their successful family members, but the Tracys had always been a unique type of breed. Jeff always surprised her, and these last few months spent with his family had done even more of that, hell, they’ve practically blown her out of the water altogether.

Taking a deep breath, Casey gave Alan the most genuine smile she could muster, “Yes, Alan, I think you could be even better one day if you put your heart and mind into it.”

The face Alan made would make you think she told him he could be in charge of International Rescue himself. It looked like he was about to say another thing as well, most likely thank her, but a voice shouted from where the bedrooms were located, causing them to look away from one another.

“ALAN! WE TOLD YOU THAT IF YOU WANTED TO TRAIN YOU HAD TO GET ALL YOUR HOMEWORK DONE!”

Casey peeked at him from the corner of her eye to see genuine confusion on his face. He shouted back, “Yeah! I swear I finished all of it!” Alan stood up from his chair and cupped his hands around his mouth like a funnel, his handheld device forgotten on the table, “I wouldn’t lie about that kind of stuff, you know me!”

A brief moment of silence fell over the house before the shouting started up again, “YEAH?! THEN WHAT’S THIS UNFINISHED ESSAY YOU LEFT OPEN ON YOUR COMPUTER?!”

If you were to ask Casey what it felt like in that moment, she would say you could probably feel the air a pin produced when you dropped it. She watched as all the color drained from his face, and before she could give a disappointed glare, Alan practically stumbled and tripped over the chair as he raced to his room, “WAIT! THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME-” he bumped his knee into the wall and let out a small curse before he continued, his voice getting quieter and quieter as he ran up the stairs, “I KNEW I WAS FORGETTING SOMETHING!”

Casey was left there to stare at nothing and process whatever the hell just happened. It wasn’t too long before she started to chuckle and helped put back the chairs where they belonged. Jeff Tracy’s sons were all fine young men who would go on to do great things in his footsteps, but they were also children first and foremost. Children who have been through things only found in other people’s nightmares.

But they were still family; it was always nice getting reminders of that fact. That despite the things they’ve had to overcome, they’re sticking close together. That they’re still ready to be there for one another in the blink of an eye, and that they still hold that shred of magical innocence where other men and women seem to fail. While Casey has never held it against those men and women, she could hardly blame them for it even, that just makes her pride in the Tracy family even stronger.

She only hoped that the magic lasted as long as it could before the inevitable.

---

Mopierre Compound.

Casey shuddered. There was a reason they shut this place down. She just hoped that Jeff didn’t think too hard about it as well. If she had a kid that was taken here, regardless of whether or not it was inactive or god forbid actually active, she would definitely lose it.

When John contacted her out of the blue with information about the Hood’s whereabouts (how he had Alan for weeks all alone), Casey took zero time in storming out of her office and getting her soldiers up and running to support the Tracys. The Hood had been causing chaos for far too long, and to commit such an action of stealing the youngest Tracy away and doing God knows what to him-

Casey was done being a failure, the Hood was being stopped one way or another tonight.

And stopped he was. Casey couldn’t stop the gasp of shock leaving her lips when she saw Scott limping out of the compound with a beaten-up Hood, Alan trailing ever so slightly behind him somewhat bewildered but also visibly overwhelmed. Whatever must have happened in there shaken him up, badly, and Casey’s heart ached at the thought.

Gordon was off with Virgil making sure his older brother didn’t obtain any kind of concussion from the obvious head injury he was sporting. Kayo was off talking to other soldiers about what to do with Havoc and Fuse, so she was the first to see the eldest and youngest toddle their way out to everyone. She didn’t make a big fuss, just grinned and waited for the others to notice as well. Casey’s best guess was the sister was waiting for them to be situated before throwing even more hecticness in their faces.

“Mr. Tracy! Mr. Tracy!” a soldier shouted out next to her. Casey turned back to see about three Cadets make their way over to the disheveled brothers. So much for Kayo’s attempt at giving them a moment of respite. She was unable to get a word in as the soldiers rushed over to the brothers, two of which grabbed the Hood from Scott with the last one taking the villain’s place in a more supportive position. They were a good distance apart, but Casey could tell that the elder Tracy wasn’t fairing the greatest, and there was much more than the limp to base her assumptions on.

She realized mostly everyone went silent at the Tracys appearing out of nowhere, and wanting to save them from as much scrutiny as possible, “Hey! All of you, get back to your jobs! We’re highly trained government officials on a mission, not tourists exploring a tropical getaway!”

Multiple YES MA’AMs sounded throughout the area, and with a satisfied sigh to herself, Casey felt like she could breathe again. The soldier helping Scott get to the nearest medical staff walked in front of her, the Tracy giving her a grateful nod once she looked him in the eyes. Returning the gesture, she continued watching as they made their way down the hill, Scott being deposited into his family’s waiting arms.

Mainly John and Gordon, though Virgil was quick to show his affection when Scott was shoved to sit down next to him. The brunet seemed to get cold feet once he was situated, like he was nervous to admit he spilled a glass of milk somewhere, and before Casey could even begin to come up with reasons why he looked that way, she noticed a mop of blond out of the corner of her eye.

Quickly turning, she released a huff of air she didn’t even know she had inside herself at the moment, “Oh, Alan, it’s just you. Scared me for a second there.”

Alan had a silver tarp wrapped snugly around his shoulders- shock blanket, most definitely- which glinted in the moonlight as he shrugged them. He stuck his hands out in the part where the two edges were held together and moved his fingers very specifically, Glad to see I still have it in me. I’ll be sure to remember this when I wanna do something similar to Gordon.

Ah, Virgil mentioned Alan was selectively mute as a coping mechanism. And as much as she wanted to joke with him, keep the tone light, she had simply lived too long a life where she didn’t get such pleasures.

Casey flicked her vision back and forth between the Tracy next to her and the Tracys on lower ground, and unsavory taste filling her mouth at the reasons on why Alan wasn’t going to them, “Alan, I don’t mean to make any assumptions, but is there a particular reason you’re choosing to spend your free time with me? Not that I don’t want you to if you want, but-”

Suddenly, a blur shot out from the group down below, John responding to its movements just as quick as it was, “Whoa! Gordon, wait-”

Taking a moment to fully observe the situation, Casey deduced that it was indeed a tense one with the way John was gripping Gordon’s arm. He seemed to be holding the younger brother back from charging over to what appeared to be the vehicle that housed the Hood.

Oh.

John’s rather loose grasp gave Casey the idea that the older brother was struggling on the decision to either let Gordon loose and go ham or stay responsible and make sure he didn’t also land in jail, much to what was probably everyone’s chagrin. Honestly, if Gordon landed in jail that would just give him more prime opportunity to murder the Hood, not that John wasn’t two seconds away from doing that himself, “Gordon, I’m as pissed as you are, but we all need to calm down for Alan-”

“Calm down?! I get told that the bastard five feet away from my fists potentially tortured my little brother and you want me to calm the hell down?!”

Hoo.

Well then.

Casey wasn’t sure where to start with that.

Looking over to her right where Alan was currently standing, tugging the shock blanket around himself ever so slightly tighter, she could tell the youngest Tracy was in the same position. However, he wasn’t tensed up so much as he was forlorn. It’s like he suspected this kind of reaction, and he felt bad for it.

Ugh, the Tracys and their unnecessary guilt complexes. The only thing Casey wished for was that Alan never reached any kind of level compared to his older siblings. She should have expected her wish wouldn’t be granted. You don’t even get small mercies like that in this life.

Blinking a few times, she noticed Alan staring more intently at her, even waving his hand a little bit to get her to notice again, “Yes, Alan?”

Immediately regretting her normally harsh tone of voice after watching Alan flinch a little bit back, she didn’t even have a second to apologize before she recognized the telltale movements of ASL from the boy, Was I… he stopped in thought as if he wanted to find the exact right word to convey his emotions, Right?

Casey was a little lost on what he asked. She cleared her throat, purposefully making sure she dropped the serious commander facade if only for a moment, “I’m sorry, right about what exactly?”

Alan thinned his lips. It seemed he was annoyed he couldn’t come up with the right words. After another few seconds of struggling, he found his footing, Scott was impressed by how I decided to save the Hood despite everything he’s done to us and other people. He wouldn’t shut up the whole time we were together, but I… I just…

He stopped. Casey noticed how his hands were trembling more than they were before, and his eyes were starting to get more and more glazed as if he was back in the action itself. Well, they may call her Aunt for fun, but she was given the title of Godmother for a reason. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she managed to speak in her softest voice yet, “You what, Alan?”

Alan inhaled deeply through his nose before gaining the courage to continue, I didn’t know which was which, and I didn’t want to risk it. I think if I had any kind of confidence, any kind of idea of which Scott was the right one, I wouldn’t have… I don’t think... for a brief second, Alan covered his eyes and rubbed his face in frustration, but before Casey could egg him on again, he ripped the bandaid right off, I wouldn’t have even waited until they were falling before deciding to let him drop! I would have let him die and I wouldn’t have even cared. I care for roadkill I see on the street sometimes more than I would have cared for him!

With his biggest and youngest eyes yet, he looked directly into hers, tears forming, Would that have made me bad instead? I’m I wrong for secretly wanting that? He took a deep breath, finishing his thought once and for all, Does that make me like him?

Morality has never been an easy concept for Casey to grasp, frankly, it’s not easy for anyone on planet Earth to truly decide what was right or wrong for a situation. No matter what you decide, people will think you made the wrong choice. This is especially worse for deaths at the hands of people not authorized to kill anyone. It would seem simple, right? Self-defense is a human right, no one would get angry at you for protecting your family, it should be simple, but alas, it was not.

People will think you used the wrong thing to defend yourself with; people will think that person shouldn’t have killed regardless, whether it was because they believed in upholding certain laws when it came to handling criminals or they just had a stringent ‘no-killing anyone’ policy because that’s what they grew up believing. That’s not even taking into account the supposed killer’s own beliefs on how they want to handle killing someone. Maybe they believed no one should die without the right to a fair trial. It feels like it should be easy, after all, that person killed someone wanting to hurt them, guilt is the last thing that should be on their mind…

But the human mind was a fickle thing, and it’ll feel whatever it wanted to feel, even if we realized it was illogical in hindsight. It was worse for younger people, oh god, was it worse. Casey had watched firsthand what the horrors of war could do to a soldier’s state of being. War itself was already a horribly grey subject, the last thing those people needed were to be cast into a problem that shouldn’t have even involved them.

To see Alan struggle with the concept, to see him struggle over it so personally, when he should be struggling over college and what job opportunities he now had, Casey was very violently reminded of those traumatized soldiers who’d seen things no one should have had to see, and her chest ached. She’d never been the best with cushy-feely-type words, but she told herself that if it came down to it, she wouldn’t mess it up.

By god she swore not to mess this up. Leaving her one hand on his shoulder and taking her other to place it on the still free one, she made sure his full attention was on her, “Alan, I’m going to start this off by saying you are nothing like him.” Alan looked like he wanted to move his hands to argue back, but she kept her ground, “I’m not going to lie and say they aren’t any similarities whatsoever, but that’s because he’s human!” She rushed out before Alan could take it the wrong way, “He was an awful, disgusting, selfish human, but human nonetheless, of course, there might be some overlap. But that means there’s overlap between him and John, even Virgil, hell, even Gordon! Scott broke his arm in pure anger, do you think that makes him as bad as the Hood?”

Alan might as well have broken his neck with how fast he shook it. Good, she was getting through to him, “Okay, so now you see you aren’t some orphan puppy murderer, glad we got that out of the way.” Alan’s silent chuckles led her to believe that he trusted her, and while that gave her some reprieve, this last part was going to be the hardest regardless of how he reacted before, “Now, as for the whole ‘I wanted him dead part’... I don’t think anyone in their right mind would be mad at you for wanting to take out the man who had tortured you consistently. Forgetting how he hurt the rest of your family, how he hurt the rest of humanity, it would be hard to forgive anyone who would be willing to torture an 18-year-old.”

Taking a minute to see how Alan was absorbing her information, she was relieved to see him at least considering it. Taking a deep breath, she had one final thing to say, “Of course, there are going to be people who disagree with what you did, but that will be because of a variety of reasons. Some people have a ‘no civilian can kill’ policy, some people are contrarian for the sole purpose of having a devil’s advocate to keep the debate hot, hell, there might be a very small minority of people who supported the Hood for whatever reason, but Alan… none of those people matter.”

She watched him blink some of the tears out of his eyes in confusion. Chuckling, she finally took her hands away from him and crossed them behind her back in her Colonel Pose, taking in the scene of all of her soldiers diligently completing their duties next to them, “I have worked with countless people dedicated to their work having to fall prey to having to make that split-second decision. Years of watching people make them, having to make them myself, the most valuable thing I have taken away is making sure you, the person in question who had to consider it or even finish it, are okay with it.” With most of her energy out there, she took one of her hands and rubbed the bridge of her nose in exhaustion, “Now, whether you decide you want to figure out why you may feel that way, or you get help in deciding that these thoughts are actually okay will be up to you.”

She looked back at him with a motherly grin, “Not even your brothers can help you decide. They can nudge in a direction, and I think we both know which direction that is, but it is up to you to decide if that direction is right for you. Men have been fighting over this topic since we first became homo sapiens, Alan, and I don’t think we’ll ever come to a unanimous decision, not in my life, not in your life, probably not even in your potential children’s life. That’s why it’s only up to you, okay? If you try and get approval from those around you, it only ends in you being ripped apart in five different directions. Don’t fall prey to humanity’s whims, there’s thousands of them, and most of them are garbage anyway.”

A few more silent chuckles gave her the belief that her work was done, but when she felt a pair of arms rapidly make their way around her shoulders, the wind was knocked out of her sails, so to speak. She looked down to see Alan pressing his face into her shoulder, the blanket now wrapped around both of them. The words he was saying were clear: Thank you.

Casey just sighed and hugged him back, “Now then, I have a feeling a couple of other family members are about to trip over themselves trying to see you.” She gently pushed him away to look him in the eyes, wiping away the dirt on his shoulders from underneath the blanket, “Go enjoy this time, Alan. You’ve all been waiting for this for nearly a decade.”

Alan nodded as he dabbed at his eyes, slowly but surely making his way toward the rest of his family. Casey watched as he almost stumbled like a newborn giraffe toward his older brothers, sort of slipping on the part of the hill that went from diagonal to horizontal, catching their attention. With how high-strung he already seemed to be, Gordon was the first to hop over to Alan and grab him in a hug.

It wasn’t for long, though. John came over to place his hand on their shoulders, probably informing them of the fact that Alan should be checked out by the paramedics as well for safety reasons. With as little separation as possible, they helped their youngest brother over to where Virgil and Scott were sitting, placing him in between the older two. With no hesitation whatsoever, Alan was quick to grab Scott’s hand while laying his head on Virgil’s shoulder. A thought rang in the back of Casey's head on how Alan hadn’t done something like that in quite a while, hmmm.

Casey scanned the surrounding area, noticing that Kayo was now talking with a handcuffed Fuse and Havoc in the back of a vehicle away from the Hood. It was easy to assume that she was informing them about their potential punishments, but the small grin she had on her face said that more than chats about disciplinary action were happening. Didn’t John mention Fuse being the reason they noted this location in the first place? Casey would need to ask more about that later.

Looking around a little bit more, it wasn’t long before she found the head of the Tracy family himself. Jeff seemed to be deep in his own conversation with Lady Penelope, both of them waving their hands around sporadically. What a wake-up call poor Penelope must have received. Hey so we maybe found our missing baby brother in this random location please join the entire GDF in getting over there while he head to it first please and thank youuu.

Soon, Jeff waved at her goodbye, shoving his hands in his pockets as he turned around. As he made his way toward his sons, he looked up a little higher than expected and made eye contact with Casey. So many words needed to be said, so many plans needed to be thought out, but with one glance, the only thing they realized they needed to do at this moment was smile at each other. It wouldn’t solve everything right away, but for just a moment, it was enough.

Jeff was just as readable as he always had been. Thank you. Thank you for everything. For being there when I couldn’t.

Casey had hoped she was too. Of course, it was the least I could do for you and your family after everything they’ve done. For me, as well as everyone else.

Of course, they would need to talk more. About the future of IR, about Fuse and Havoc’s futures, of Hood’s containment, of how their family would move forward, hell, ignoring all of that, Casey still wanted to just verbally talk with the man. They were close friends, she wanted to catch up with him out of pure want to keep their relationship alive now that he was as well.

But that was a future problem. After all, Jeff finally had all of his sons in his grasp for once, he deserved a moment with them. Plus, she was too busy watching the sunrise over the horizon of the ocean to join him anyway.

For the first time in a near-decade, things felt like they were truly looking up.

#thunderbirds #colonel casey #alan tracy #jeff tracy #scott tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfic #series: rules of alchemy #my post #my fic

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angel-bazethiel · 4 years ago

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What, How, Why is Flame Alchemy?

--or how Roy Mustang can potentially bottle up a star. --or I’m sleep-deprived and writing this fic that relies on a deeper understanding of how Flame Alchemy works and I’m posting what I thought of bc why the hell not? and if I read another post saying it’s plain ole combustion and how easy it is, I will probably lose my mind --or goddammit, where is Flame Alchemy?????

Content:

I. Introduction II. Mass-Energy Equivalence and Nuclear Energy III. Flame Alchemy? More like Nuclear Alchemy (and Other Myth Debunking) IV. Why would someone study such a research topic? V. Summary

Note: Long post and a lot of Science ahead.

I. Introduction

First we establish that whatever we know of Flame Alchemy is utterly bogus. Solely because of the fact that if Roy and Riza really wanted for the knowledge of it to die, no one will ever know of it. No one. So that explanation by Havoc about aligning oxygen molecules and then snapping to ignite them is not true. I mean, “reactive cloth?” What is that even made of? For a show that was extensively researched, that seems a bit lazy.

Also, this explanation makes Flame Alchemy sound so easy. So why isn’t everyone doing it? For a military-run country, one would think that something easy and can be weaponized would be mass-produced, right?

Another fact, fire feeds on oxygen, yes. But fire is a combustion reaction of oxygen and a C-H compound. Something I hope that the air in a 1900s FMA-Earth isn’t abundant of.

Although, I haven’t thought about what if the fuel Roy uses is H2 compounds instead of Hydrocarbons. That would be funny. Roy deconstructs H2O molecules only to create them again. But if you still want to see whether or not I’m crazy, by all means, do read on. I will still use Flame Alchemy = Nuclear Fusion for my fic. So ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now, it got me thinking how does Flame Alchemy actually work? And my highly convoluted train of thought started while I was writing this fic where I based Riza’s mother on Marie Curie. (Which I may expand on but now is not the time.)

I thought then, so how about Berthold? Is he Pierre? Naw, man. Who else has had his research mishandled during a war? Who else was a brilliant thinker but is also such a shitty dude to the women in his life? Yeah you guessed it. And what is one of his greatest works?

II. Mass-Energy Equivalence and Nuclear Energy

Albert Einstein’s Mass-Energy Equivalence is such a simple and very elegant equation saying that mass is interchangeable with energy. This postulate led to this branch of physics (or chemistry, whatever) called Nuclear Physics/Chemistry. Bear with me.

Did you know that when you add up the masses of an atom’s nucleons (the collective protons and neutrons) the actual mass is not equal to the calculated? Where did that mass go? As it turns out, that mass defect takes in the form of energy that holds the nucleons together. And when we substitute that missing mass on Eq. 1, we have a specific number for that binding energy.

So what do we mean by nuclear energy?

Nuclear energy is the binding energy released when a nucleon is taken out of its nucleus. And that can happen by either of two reactions: nuclear fission or nuclear fusion.

Now I didn’t think much about nuclear fission because that’s shit’s nasty. And I’m sure that Roy doesn’t have Uranium just lying about. So let’s talk about nuclear fusion. Specifically, the fusion of Hydrogen atoms:

When you fuse two Hydrogen-1 atoms it has three products: deuterium, a positron, and energy. Fuse that deuterium with another Hydrogen-1, we get Helium-3 and energy in the form of gamma radiation. Fuse two Helium-3 atoms, we get helium-4 and hydrogen and more energy. Then start the process again if you want more more energy.

So what has that got to do with Flame Alchemy?

III. Flame Alchemy? More like Nuclear Alchemy (and Other Myth Debunking)

I firmly believe that the “Flame Alchemy” we see in FMA is just the H-H fusion reaction (Eq. 2).

And like an idiot, I only did my research after I thought of all that shit and found this interpretation of Riza’s tattoo.

I don’t know how how much of the tattoo is canon, I tried looking for it in the manga and the anime is too small to see. But I see it everywhere so-- it must be canon?

But in that post, in the upper left part of Riza’s tattoo, we see the fusion reaction of deuterium. And of deuterium and tritium. To which I say, why? Those Hydrogen isotopes are rare. I mean, fine, a D-T fusion reaction gives 40 times the net energy from an H-H fusion reaction.

And, sure, Roy can create deuterium and tritium himself, but it’s just not efficient. I don’t know how alchemy works but I do know that to do that (by which I mean an H-H fusion, then a D-D fusion, then a D-T fusion) would require more energy than just stopping at the H-H fusion.

So I stand by my statement that the “Flame Alchemy” we see in FMA is just the first part of the H-H reaction (Eq. 2).

a. So how does it work as seen in the manga?

Roy would line up the atoms to where he wants the reaction to happen. And here’s the kicker, he can use other light atoms just no heavier than Iron-56.

But I think he uses Hydrogen-1 because that shit is everywhere. Again, not the heavier isotopes. So we’re sticking to that.

How do we know that that’s what’s happening and not Roy doing whatever the hell Havoc said? Because we see this:

I don’t know about you, but I think the sparks we see when someone is doing a transmutation aren’t just there because it’s cool.

Atoms require energy in order to stay bonded as a molecule. So when alchemists transmute, they break the bonds and release that energy. In this case, the energy released is in the form of light. (I also have some thoughts about why we see red and blue sparks but, again, now is not the time.)

If Roy is just controlling the O2 molecules in the air, we shouldn’t see any sparks because there is no deconstructing happening.

Hydrogen-1 is usually present as part of the many water molecules in the air. So, I think, what we see is Roy deconstructing the H2O molecules and pulling the Hydrogen-1 atoms to where he wants them to be. The Oxygen-16 atoms bond with each other and form O2 molecules but we don’t care about them.

Unless Roy fuses Oxygen-16 instead of Hydrogen-1. In that case, we will see an even bigger release of energy. OH! Maybe that’s why he uses his left hand for smaller and more controlled explosions and the other for bigger ones. Because the gloves are different! One is for H-H fusion and the other is for O-O fusion.

Anyways. Hydrogen-1 atoms, by themselves are positively charged. So to fuse two together we have to overcome the repelling force by those same-charged atoms. To do that, they must meet either at high velocity or at high pressure. In the manga, they do the former.

Remember the sound whenever Roy does his thing? That isn’t actually caused by his snapping. After all he is wearing gloves. The sound when you snap is made by the pad of your middle finger striking your palm. If your hand is clothed, you won’t produce any sound when you snap.

No. That sound is the sonic boom of Hydrogen atoms going faster than the speed of sound. Also, I don’t think his gloves is made up of some special material. He just snaps to cover up the sound. Everything is just nuclear fusion.

b. How about those “flames” that we see, then?

That is how we perceive the energy released by the reaction. When the energy is transferred into the surroundings, it gives off heat. Not only that, but the other atoms in the air get excited (this is a technical term btw) and glow. For all intents and purposes, I guess they are flames? Just not caused by a combustion reaction.

c. But if that’s how the Flame Alchemy works, then what is up with the useless when wet schtick?

That is a misconception. Sort of.

Roy’s alchemy will still be useless in the rain because there is just too much macromolecules in the air. He can’t align the atoms properly and the Hydrogen atoms may collide with the water molecules. That would decrease speed which he maybe can take account of. But the time to calculate then recalculate for each atoms can be too long. So he just lets Riza take care of the imminent threat when it’s raining.

As for when it isn’t raining, but he’s wet… I think he can still do his Alchemy, he just doesn’t. Because in doing so, it would deconstruct all the lies Roy and Riza have built around “Flame Alchemy.” Like that fight with Lust with Havoc. He manipulated Hydrogen atoms and I think he could have just fused them. Instead he let Havoc throw his lighter. Good thing Hydrogen is flammable. And this:

This is just Roy Mustang being the drama queen that he is.

d. Why would Roy and Riza lie about the Alchemy?

They feed false information surrounding Nuclear Alchemy because there can never be another Nuclear Alchemist. They created a version of the Alchemy and make up some magic cloth that supposedly becomes useless when wet. All of that so that no one can learn the actual secret. Maybe even discourage other alchemists, seeing as “it has such a huge weakness.”

IV. But why would someone want to study such a research topic?

Now, I don’t claim to know how Berthold Hawkeye’s brain works. But have you ever looked up to the sun and think, “Woah. That big ball gives life on this piece of rock? How does that even work?” I hope you haven’t because you will hurt your eyes. Please use protective eye-gear if you’re going to look directly to the sun.

All joking aside. It all comes down to energy. The sources of energy we have today have their pros and cons. Our main source, which is burning fossil fuels, is very much harming the environment.

So we look up. The sun has millions of Hydrogen atoms that undergo nuclear fusion. And the energy from that keeps all of us 7 billion little shits alive. What if we bottle up a star?

If we could ever recreate even the smallest fraction of that reaction, we can power hundreds of cities. And with Helium to spare, which we can use to blow out the balloons for our party in celebration of the fact we can finally stop killing our planet.

If nuclear fusion is so clean, then why aren’t we using it?

Because we still don’t know how to contain and control it. Today, there are two designs of fusion reactors and there are research facilities that conduct experiments. But so far they are still developing the technology.

And get this, this is a very hard and expensive thing to do. Whatever Berthold did, it’s genius. Way ahead of his time. He’s still an ass of a father though.

To add salt to the wound, like with what happened to Flame Alchemy in FMA, governments have used this research to create weapons instead. Because why try to contain that energy and use it for technological advancement when we can let it loose on a city, right? Hah. We are such dumbfucks.

V. Summary

So in conclusion, human beings suck. Kidding! Well, not really. But yeah. So. Flame Alchemy is a nuclear fusion reaction of Hydrogen-1 atoms. And it’s very hard to control and contain that even in 2020 Primary-Earth, we haven’t figured that shit out.

It could have been used for the people if the Amestrian government actually cared about the people. And after the trauma Roy and Riza experienced in Ishval, we may only see Nuclear Alchemy in the distant future when humans are kinder – not just to the world they live in – but to other humans they are living with as well.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#fma #flame alchemy #fma meta #riza hawkeye #roy mustang #berthold hawkeye #science behind fma #fullmetal alchemist #fma reference #fma ref #I REALLY DIDN'T WANT TO REPOST THIS BECAUSE IT HAS PICTURES BUT HERE WE ARE.#ugghhh it still won't show up on the tumbr-wide tags so iguess it was all for nothing skskskkss

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howterrifying · 4 years ago

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+molliarty: the necessity of colour: the end

This marks the final chapter of this accidental Molliarty mini-series. Thank you to those who've read, liked, reblogged, reviewed and sent me messages. You help fan the flame for us fic writers to keep going and to believe in and enjoy our work even more. I hope you've enjoyed this series just as much as I've loved writing it :) x In case anyone would like to catch up on previous chapters, here they are: Part I & II :: Part III

The Necessity of Colour: Part IV & Epilogue [also on FF.net and AO3]

It surprised Jim that there were other ways to inject thrill into his veins. No murders had taken place and no buildings had been bombed but his blood was on fire. Even as they lay together, talking like they used to on their ‘charade’ dates, the ecstasy of their afternoon still pulsated through every cell in his body.

“Would you knit me something?” Jim teased, shifting to kiss her gently on her bare shoulder. “You’d hate it,” Molly answered with a chuckle. She sat up, causing the sheets to slip away from her whilst her hair cascaded down in their place. “Why would I?” murmured Jim, utterly distracted by the vision before him. “I know you absolutely hate colour,” Molly said, “And I refuse to knit something so bland.” “But I wore those patterned shirts…” “A charade, Jim, remember?” “And you saw right through that?” “Well, I was informed beforehand. But yes, your discomfort was rather obvious,” Molly said, grinning. “You are good,” Jim said, returning her grin with a kiss on the side of her neck. “No, Jim,” Molly chuckled, before pinning him back down, “I’m better.” They laughed at the odd memory of their first real confrontation. How they had been made temporary antagonists once they had their disguises ripped from them. That was just it though, was it not? That not only had their antagonism been forced upon them, it had only been temporary. There was no way any real animosity could have lasted, not with the type of chemistry that lay bubbling beneath their skins. As they continued to kiss, both minds raced along with their pulses. The deeper they sank into each other, the more they remembered the distance they were supposed to maintain. “What do we do now?” Jim asked, relishing the view of Molly above him. Molly merely smiled and returned to plant another kiss on his mouth. It was a different kiss this time. There was no hunger or playfulness behind it. Instead, it was slow, almost contemplative, as though she were trying to memorise every sensation of the moment. “I’ll admit, it’s a little unclear,” she whispered in return. She was tempted to kiss him again, but something in her told her they had to stop. As if reading her mind, Jim sat up and leaned against the headboard whilst Molly shifted but remained straddled on his lap, facing him. “Unclear is okay,” Jim said with a smirk, reaching for her hands. “Unclear is dangerous,” said Molly, staring at their intertwined fingers. “But that’s where we live, Molly, don’t you see?” he whispered, trying to catch her gaze. Molly looked up, feeling the pull from his gaze. She could not help but smile when she saw those eyes of his resting on her. There was something so dazzling about the darkness in them and it caused a rush in her veins. “Listen,” said Jim, taking a moment to quickly kiss the top of her knuckles. “Ithought I knew everything about you, and it’s becoming apparent I don’t quite know everything. And while you seem to know quite a lot about me, I know you don’t know everything. Even your all-knowing boss…no one can be that all knowing…” “Yes, she can…” “Okay, fine, maybe she can. But who cares, Molly?” he remarked, a strange excitement growing in his voice. Molly could not tell where he was going with this and could only stare back at him with a single, raised eyebrow. “We live in the grey area, Molly, that’s where we thrive,” Jim said, smiling widely at her. “We never know what will happen, but that’s where the fun is…” He paused to pull her closer to him so he could kiss her properly again. Her hands automatically reached for his face as he drew her mouth to his. “We’ll just make it happen,” he said, running a thumb across her cheekbone, “It’s what we do.” “Sounds a bit chaotic to me,” Molly teased, feigning disbelief. “Then chaos is the colour. In all of this grey, chaos is the colour,” Jim argued, fixing his eyes on hers. “When did you get so poetic?” Molly said with a laugh. “I’ve always been poetic,” he retorted, grinning. It was nice to see the light come back into her eyes. When she had said that where they were headed was dangerous, it had been sobering for him too. There was the issue of her boss who seemed both powerful and unknown, two characteristics that would have normally frustrated the life out of this criminal mastermind. Yet, it had only disturbed him momentarily. The larger fear that struck his cold heart was the thought of never being able to delight in the presence of Molly Hooper again. Again, there was that inexplicable need for her. This time, not only did Jim decide he was all right with it, he was going to indulge it. “Life needs a bit of colour, no?” he remarked, letting his fingers outline the beautiful contour of her face. Molly shut her eyes and savoured the feel of those hands against her skin. Had her boss, in all her intelligence and near omniscience, not realise that this would happen? Or had that been her intention from the beginning? It amused Molly for a moment that perhaps in falling for Jim Moriarty she had outdone her boss and done the one thing no one had been expecting. How was Molly to resist? He was so clever, so wickedly funny, so divinely handsome and had the most impeccable manners she could barely contain it. “I suppose life does need a bit of colour,” Molly said at last, as a smile grew. “Your wardrobe could do with some for sure.” “My wardrobe? Are you implying that we should start living together?” Jim asked, his eyes widening as his theatrics returned. The both of them collapsed into each other, laughing and sinking into each other’s embrace again. “Please, could we?” Jim whispered, softly kissing the side of her neck. Smiling against his skin, Molly returned the kiss against his temple and continued until she reached his beautiful mouth. “You really do have the most perfect manners,” Molly remarked, succumbing as she pushed him back down to bed. ++ Epilogue Molly did not remember the last time she had been here. After all, it was a bit of a journey to get there but she did not remember the room being so cold. The glass, concrete and absolute dead silence certainly added to the chill Molly felt in her bones. She sat as still as she could in her seat and faced the empty space before her, waiting. Soon, she heard soft footsteps and a figure emerged, shrouded in the only thing the figure ever wore; a plain white medical gown. “Well, Molly, love is a good look on you,” said the figure. “I have to agree,” she smirked in return. “It seems you’ve strayed completely from the brief,” continued the figure, sitting herself cross-legged in the centre of the empty space before Molly. Molly swallowed nervously. She had been dreading this meeting and now it was finally happening. “Why do you look so scared?” asked the figure with a small, playful smile. “Because you’re terrifying?” Molly replied. “Come now, Molly,” laughed the figure, “I respect you too much to punish you, you know that. I couldn’t hurt you even if it one hundred percent warranted it.” “I know,” Molly answered, “And that’s what’s even scarier.” The figure shook her head and stood up. She walked across the space so as to stand right in front of Molly. “Molly, do you know why I hired you in the first place? Why we became such good friends so fast?” asked the figure. “Because we’re both clever. Very clever.” “Precisely!” exclaimed the figure, clapping her hands together, “And your little…deviation from the operation, has inspired me with a better idea.” “It has?” “This is why I trust you, Molly. Even when you go off-course, you make things better,” the figure continued, “It’s hard to believe, I know, but I can have poor judgement on occasion.” Molly laughed at her comment, causing the figure to grin in return. Molly knew she was clever but she was nothing like her boss. Still, she breathed a sigh of relief knowing their working relationship had not been damaged. “I want to meet him,” said the figure. “Oh?” “I think he’d be a great addition, don’t you think?” the figure remarked. “I have to agree,” Molly replied with a smirk. “Besides, based on what you’ve been telling me,” the figure said, a wily smile appearing. “It’s time we had someone who really brightens up the room.” ++ When Jim received the text, his blood had run cold for a moment, his mind going immediately to Molly’s safety and wondering if it had finally been compromised. He decided to obey whatever it was this E wanted, especially if it meant keeping Molly safe. As he was ushered from one car to another and finally into a helicopter, he was surprised to see the very face he had been worrying over greet him when he finally stepped off the helicopter onto an undisclosed island. “It’s take-your-boyfriend-to-work day,” Molly teased, kissing him quickly on the cheek. “I..I don’t understand,” Jim remarked, genuinely puzzled. As they entered the massive building and made their way through what felt like a thousand different corridors, Jim found himself facing a heavy, metal door. Molly gave him another kiss on the cheek and smiled at him. “Molly, what’s going on?” he asked. Molly did not answer but merely opened the door and gestured for him to step in. Once he did, he heard the heavy clang of the door shutting behind him. The ensuing silence was deafening as he stared at the sparse room he was in. Soon, a figure shrouded in a crisp white medical gown appeared and walked towards Jim. “Mr James Moriarty,” the figure said, extending her hand. “You must be E,” Jim replied, reaching to shake her hand only to flinch slightly from how cold it felt. The figure paused, still holding onto his hand as she examined him from head to toe. When she was done, a slow smile appeared on her lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last,” the figure continued, releasing his hand and gesturing for him to sit on the only chair in the room. She walked over to the center of the room and planted herself down, sitting cross-legged. “Now that we’ve finally met,” she began, “Please, call me Eurus.” END

#molliarty #this was really fun to write:)#it def could've been better and has so much room for development #but i chose to focus on the pleasure of writing it #and this is what it is:))#molliarty shots #The Necessity of Colour by Terrified

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honeyhan-123 · 5 years ago

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Say Thank You V

Series Summary: Nearly five years have passed since Steve Rogers saves your life without so much as a thank you. When he sees you again by chance, he makes sure that he’ll never let you go and maybe teach you some manners in the process.

Series Warning: This will be a dark!Steve fic with stalking, kidnapping and manipulating as well as non-con and dub-con situations. Please don’t read it if you don’t like that sort of thing.

Chapter Warnings: None really, just being held captive.

Word Count: 2.2k

AN: I would just like to dedicate this chapter to @tansypoisoning and @danceswithapathy for being there for me last week when I felt really guilty about not getting an update out on time. Also thank you to @cake-reads for suggesting this website for making a moodboard. This is my first attempt so I hope y’all like it. I love you guys x

I. New York ~ II. Madrid ~ III. The Apartment ~ IV. The Trip

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

V. The Basement

You awoke slowly, the first sign of consciousness being the ability to feel, slowly descending down your body like honey dripping from a spoon. First it was being made aware of the pounding headache that hid behind your heavy eyelids, then the stiffness in your bad, the muscles taught as if they had been in the same place for quite some time. Last had been the feeling of blood rushing down to your toes as you tried to wiggle them, snuggly tucked under the covers.

As you slowly gained consciousness, your eyelids fluttering open, panic started to surge through your body, memories of the previous night coming back. A hand clamped around your mouth, a prick in your neck, and then nothing. You had no indication of just how long you had been out so what felt like mere minutes ago could’ve been hours, days even, and with the way your back ached you thought it was probably the latter.

You also had no indication of how you had gotten wherever you were now. Throwing the soft covers off of your body, you slipped your feet out onto the cold hardwood floor. With a terror unparalleled, you realised you were no longer wearing the shorts a t-shirt you last remembered donning for work but a simple pale blue slip nightgown that scarcely covered you to your mid thigh. Who had changed you?

There was barely any light in the room, save for the moonlight that filtered in through the windows lining the opposite wall, barely a foot wide, grazing against the ceiling. They let you know it was night time again, so it was looking like you had been out for about a day. Confusion hit as you looked around the room, you didn’t think sex trafficers normally kept their victims in such nice rooms. If you weren’t scared out of your mind you probably would say the room was more than nice, the plush king sized bed you were still sitting on was evidence enough.

Fumbling with the switch by your bed, you flicked on the lamp to illuminate the room further. Along the wall opposite the bed, under the windows, there was a large bookshelf along with what looked like a few armchairs and such. In the far corner was a dining area, but it wasn’t the mahogany table that caught your eye. It was the steel door that was next to it, leading to what you were sure must be a way out. Creeping out of the bed, you tentatively made your way towards it, your eyes never leaving the handle. You knew it probably wouldn’t be this easy, but you had to hope, hope that there was a way out.

Your intense focus on the door caused you to fail to notice the step that spanned the length of the room, elevating the bed area. As your foot was met with air, you tumbled down, trying to catch yourself with your hands on the hardwood floor. Your muscles were still partly asleep despite your mind running a hundred miles an hour and so you were still on the floor, trying to push yourself up off the ground when you heard a click sound through the room.

The steel door opened and a man stepped in, the bright light behind him casting his face in shadow. From where you were on the ground, you knew he must be an impressive figure, easily able to dominate over you, just from the way his frame filled the doorway. ‘Oh Sweetheart, here, let me help you up.’ He placed a tray on the dining room before crossing towards you, but as he neared, you hastily crawled back, trying to get away from this man.

‘Stop that now.’ A strong hand wrapped around one of your ankles and you tried to kick at him with the other as he pulled your body towards him, a desperate scream for help escaping from your lungs.

Instantly his body was on yours, one hand covering your mouth and the other pinning both your wrists above your head. With his face so close to yours, a sinking feeling arose in your gut as you recognised him, not only as the American stranger from the cantina, but as Captain America himself. You felt stupid for not recognising him before yet he had always been wearing caps or sunglasses, plus with his fully grown beard and longer hair, he hardly looked like America’s Golden Boy anymore, especially when he was pinning you down on the floor. The position was oddly reminiscent of the only other time you had knowingly been in his presence, that day in New York, pinned underneath the car as he fought against the Chitauri.

‘Sweetheart, I’m trying very hard to be calm right now but if you continue acting like this, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble. There’s no point screaming down here, the walls are all soundproofed, no one will hear you. All you’re accomplishing right now is angering me.’ Despite his warning, you continued to scream into his hand, thrashing your body around on the floor, trying to pry him off of you. Yet, no matter how hard you squirmed, he remained above you, barley even moving an inch. Your scream started dying off as your oxygen supply was cut by his hand and your movements slowed as you realised it was useless. He was far stronger than you.

A smile came over his face as he clearly realised your fight had started dying as he shifted the hand that had been clamping your mouth shut to the base of your throat. At first it seemed like a much more relaxed position, afterall you could actually breathe properly now but the gentle squeeze of this fingers against your windpipe served as a reminder that he could still take away your air if he so wished.

‘I’m going to ask you this one time Sweetheart, and you better not lie to me. If I get off of you do you promise to be a good girl?’ His voice was even as he leaned his face above yours, his face a near perfect mask of calm, yet looking into his dark blue eyes above you, you realised he was anything but. His orbs were a swirling sea of madness and you knew better than to anger this supersoldier further.

You nodded your head as best you could in his steel-like grip and were rewarded with a tightening of his grip on your throat and he smiled. ‘You better not break your promise Sweetheart.’ was his final warning before he shifted his weight off of you and stood up before extending a hand down to you. Eyeing it warily, you slowly raised your hand to meet his and he wasted no time in pulling you up to his frame as though you weighed nothing.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling your body to his chest as he stood, eyes staring into yours as though he were waiting for something. When you did nothing but stare at your feet for nearly a minute, he let out a frustrated groan, his eyebrows pulling together in a frown.

You longed to be out of his arms, to be free from his presence but you remembered your promise and stood still in his arms. One of his hands shifted from your waist up to your chin, tilting your head up to his, forcing you to look at him as he spoke. ‘You know, generally when someone helps you, the polite thing is to say thank you. But it’s okay. We’ll work on your manners.’ You remained silent as he grabbed your hand in his, leading you towards the small dining table and held out a chair for you.

As you sat, you saw the test he had been carrying earlier placed in front of you. On it were two pieces of toast with butter and a glass of milk. You didn’t fail to notice that he hadn’t given you any cutlery. ‘I know it’s not much but I figured trying anything heavier wouldn’t be a good idea with how long you’ve been asleep for.’

You paused at his words, your eyes flickering up to him as you thought. Just how long had you been asleep for?

‘Where am I?’ Your voice was timid, broken by your screaming fit before.

‘You’re new home of course. I couldn’t have you living in that tiny apartment anymore what with it not even having air conditioning. You should really close your blinds you know, someone could always be watching.’

A chill flowed down your spine as you registered his words. He had clearly been watching you, but for how long? Had it started all the way back in New York? Or when you first say him in the cantina a few weeks ago? All of these thoughts raced around in your head but none of them were spoken out loud, mainly because you were fairly certain whatever the answer was, you wouldn’t like it.

‘Well? Aren’t you going to eat your food? It would be rude not to, especially since I made it for you.’ His voice was a warning, a reminder of your promise and despite having completely lost your appetite, you knew it would keep you happy. Plus if you really had been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours, your body definitely needed some food.

He started speaking against as you but down on a piece, following his orders, like a good girl. ‘See that wasn’t so hard?’ He reached across the table to brush his fingers against your arm as his eyes locked with yours. ‘You could be quite happy here, I’ll give you everything you need. All you have to do is show some manners and we can be happy together.’ His voice was so full of conviction that it nearly made you choke.

Happy together? Just what was this guy playing at? He had literally just kidnapped you and he wanted you to be happy together? He was truly mental if he thought you were going to be his little pet.

You struggled to continue eating despite the hunger that had awoken in your stomach, forcing down the last piece of toast before draining your glass of milk. Steve smiled at you and picked up the tray again as he stood, his eyes expectant. You fiddled with your thumbs as you forced the words out.

‘Thank you.’

A smile overtook his face as his hand that wasn’t gripping the tray stroked your cheek. ‘You’re welcome Sweetheart. There’s everything you’ll need down here in the closet or the bathroom, you might like to take a shower and get ready for bed.’ With one last glance at you, he headed back out of the steel door he came in through, the distinct click of a lock signifying you were alone again.

He had been right of course. After spending a solid half an hour pulling and pushing the steel door with everything you had and it hadn’t moved an inch, you had sauntered into the bathroom, the idea of a shower sounding far nicer than you cared to admit. You hadn’t noticed the two doors on the wall adjacent to the bed before opening the first you saw a closet, just like he had mentioned, filled with dresses that all seemed to be in your size. How long had he been planning this? When had he bought these clothes? You didn’t think you wanted the answer to these questions and closing the closet door, you padded over to the only other door in the room, that you assumed was the bathroom.

The bathroom was - as he had said it would be - fully stocked with anything you could need. Everything from the shampoo that you had used while in Madrid to makeup, perfect for your colouring. The fact that he had known what type of shampoo you had used in Madrid should have been far more surprising than you found it, but given his earlier comment about watching you through your windows, you figured he had also watched you in your apartment.

The hot water had done little to help your taught muscles, tense from your meal with Steve, but it had been nice, giving you an odd sense of power as you purposely spent far too long in the warm stream, trying to rack up his water bill. Sure it was petty and wouldn’t help you in anyway, but it helped provide you with a sense of vindication.

Not once while drying yourself off did you mind pause, constantly running in circles, asking the same questions over and over again.

Why were you here? What did he want with you? How could you escape?

Wanting to avoid the closet that brought even more unwanted questions with it - like how did he know your clothing size? - you opted instead for the slip nightgown again, only venturing into the dreaded room to find a clean pair of panties.

Despite having been asleep for god knows how long, you still felt tired although you doubted any sleep would come to you as you lay in bed, the only light once again pouring in from the outside. Staring at the steel door through the gloom, you promised yourself, you would find a way to escape, maybe not today or tomorrow, but once you had your strength back, you knew you would need it to face the famous Captain America.

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VI. The First Lesson

My Masterlist

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duhragonball · 4 years ago

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (132/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[October 25, 233 Before Age. Despye.]

"The shipyard has a few surface-to-orbit cannons. Here, here... and here."

From inside his cell, Guwar pointed at various spots on a map printed from his ship's database. It had always been his plan to share this information with Luffa once he reached Federation space. He hadn't really considered how that handover would work. In hindsight, he supposed that it had been naive to think that he would just tell Luffa what she needed to know and that would be that. They didn't trust him, not completely. And so he was confined to a holding cell while a blue-skinned alien interrogated him over and over.

"Good," she said as she scribbled notes onto a pad. "What sort of ships do they have in the yard?"

He sighed before answering. "Mainly surplus Camelian cruisers, a few privately owned mercenary craft, all stolen, of course. There's some freighters for covert ops and troop transports, but most of those were already deployed. Our warriors would take them to various star systems and then hijack other ships, then take those into Federation space. That's how we managed to avoid being traced back. But you already knew that from the last four times I answered this question."

"Just seeing if you can keep your story straight, Guwar," she said. He didn't know her name, or even what planet she came from. He didn't think she was very strong-- not by Saiyan standards, anyway. But then, he wasn't very strong himself anymore.

"Tell me about the Jindan formula," she said. For a moment he thought she might have read his mind, but he knew this was impossible. It probably wasn't a coincidence either. She kept asking about the same things over and over, expecting to catch him in some lie.

"Trismegistus created it," he groaned as he explained it again. "The rest of the galaxy knows him as the Saiyan King Rehval, but you have to get to a certain rank in the cult before he reveals that to you. Some Saiyans can't handle the truth, so he wipes their memory and makes them repeat the indoctrination until they can accept it."

"Not what I asked," she said.

"I'm just trying to keep this interesting," he said. He got up from his seat in the cell and paced around a bit before sitting back down. Her chair didn't look that much more comfortable than his, but hers had a thin layer of cushioning that he envied.

The alien put her pen to her lower lip. "Oh, it's already pretty interesting, Guwar. Keep talking."

"The Jindan potion makes Saiyans stronger. Something about tapping into a wellspring of energy from the earth, and using it to supplement the life energy in the body. Rehval makes this potion and you drink it." As he mimicked the act of putting a goblet to his lips, he paused as he recalled the rush of ecstasy he felt as he received the power. In that moment, he had felt like he could do anything. It seemed like a hundred years ago.

"Is that how you get the Mindworm?" she asked.

"No, that's a different procedure," he said as he tapped the side of his head. "Your mistress already knows about the Mindworm."

"Mistress?"

"Well, you work for her, don't you? Like, her butler or something."

She laughed quietly and jotted something down in her notes. "Butler, right. Okay."

He shrugged and decided there was no point in prying. "The Mindworm attacks anyone who tries to probe our minds. It protects his secrets. And it's permanent. The Jindan Power, he can take that away whenever he wants. He withdrew it from me while I was on my way here. The catch is, he takes some of my own power with it. Like he's collecting interest."

"So you end up weaker than you were before you started," she said. "I thought I sensed something weird about your ki."

"You can sense my ki?" he asked. He suddenly felt very exposed. Her left eye, the one that wasn't covered by the patch, seemed much more intrusive as she stared into his cell.

"Oh, I can sense more than that, Guwar," she said. "Ki, temperature, heart rate. Why do you think I'm doing this interrogation instead of her? I mean, she's got better things to do, but besides that."

"You're what, then? Some sort of lie detector?"

"Not exactly," she said. "Let's just say I've learned how to interpret a Saiyan's pulse. But enough about me. Tell me about the Nagaoka system again. You said Rehval's on the second of four planets, right?"

"No, I said there was only one planet. Nice try."

She smiled and glanced down at her notes.

"This is a waste of time!" he said. "I already told you everything you needed to know. I thought Luffa would be halfway to Nagaoka now. The longer she waits--"

"You let us worry about that, Guwar," she said. "All you have to do is answer my questions."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, but I probably won't answer."

"Can Luffa defeat him? I mean, she's the Super Saiyan, but is that enough?"

The alien looked up at him with a serious expression. "She's more than enough, Guwar. But you already knew that, didn't you? Otherwise, why else would you risk everything to come here?"

"I... I'm just hedging my bets," he said. "The universe has gotten too hot for Saiyans lately. It's all coming down between Luffa and Rehval, and anyone who doesn't pick a side will get caught in the middle. Rehval's insane, so there's only one other choice."

"You're lying," she said. "If all you cared about was saving your own skin, you'd have taken your ship as far away from here as you could go. Rehval's got you worried. Not just about yourself, but for everyone."

"You can tell all that from my body heat?" Guwar scoffed.

"No, I can tell from your answers," she said. "You're in a big hurry for us to stop this guy, even though he's already punished you for turning against him. And you keep talking about how all the Saiyans will be doomed unless she saves them. You've seen the light, Guwar. Just like I have."

There was nothing he could say about that. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, or that he didn't believe her, but the truth was that he wanted her to be right, at least as far as Luffa being able to win. So instead of saying anything, he just turned and faced away from her, but only for as long as it took for him to pace the length of his cell. She was still there when he turned around.

"Let's move on to those spears you guys always use," she said. "What's the deal with those?"

*******

While Zatte questioned Guwar on Luffa's ship, Luffa herself was briefing the Federation Council, along with its top military commanders, on their planned counterattack. Despye prided itself on the image of a pastorial, agrarian society, but it was also home to a powerful military-industrial complex. Prester Ganzut wore a simple pair of pink overalls and often carried a ceremonial pitchfork when conducting political business. He even smelled of hay, suggesting that he had always just stepped in from tending his fields, though Luffa suspected that he used some sort of farm-scented cologne. The more she got to know the man, the less and less he seemed like a simple man of the land. Watching him host the Federation's leaders in a heavily armored amphitheater only made it that much clearer to which world he belonged.

"Federation observatories have confirmed the presence of a star system in the coordinates you gave us," Marshall Booth said as he addressed the delegates. Luffa didn't care much for him either, but at least his red military uniform told no lies about his agenda. "We don't want to send scout ships, since it might tip our hand, but we've managed to verify just about everything else that Guwar has told us so far. He even told us about an upcoming raid, and gave us the codes to disable their ships. We defeated them easily."

"It's a little too good to be true, isn't it?" asked Emir Plair of Porpozit. He was an ophidian being with thin legs and arms, and a forked tongue that darted out of his mouth every so often. "We've been fighting these cultists for months, with no end in sight, and suddenly this defector shows up on our doorstep and tells us everything we need to win?"

"Attacking Nagaoka won't be a walk in the park, Emir," Luffa said. She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward in her chair. "I intend to personally kill every Saiyan on its surface, but we'll need a whole fleet to surround the planet so no one escapes. And we'll need a second fleet to guard the first one from any counterattack. Rehval won't go down without a fight, and Guwar tells me that his Jindan powers are strongest there."

"We ought to contact him first, shouldn't we?" asked Jett Farthing, Leader-1 of Kiqs IV. He looked like a pile of tentacles stuffed into a blue robe. "Once he finds out that we know where his lair is, he might be open to negotiations."

"He's not interested in negotiations," Luffa snarled. "I tried playing nice with him before, and he lured me into a deathtrap. Drang Dedruhn still hasn't recovered from that charmed necklace he gave her. I won't underestimate him again. Besides, why would any of you want to talk peace with that bastard, after everything he's done to your people?"

"Yes, the element of surprise is vital to this offensive," Booth added. "Even if the cult knows that we have Guwar, they won't know when we'll strike, or how our attack will be carried out. We may not get a second chance at this."

"Rehval seems to take that planet pretty seriously, but he'll abandon it if he thinks he's cornered," Luffa said. "Don't forget about those rock-creatures he's been manifesting on your planets. If he can control those things from another star system, then he probably has some way to escape Nagaoka in an emergency." She punched her open palm as she spoke. "That's why we've got to hit him hard and fast, and from all sides. If we catch him off-guard, we can disrupt his contingency plans before he has a chance to use them."

"Seems t'me that's exactly what he'd want you to try, darlin'," said Prester Ganzut. "You take a fleet all the way out to Nagaoka, and leave our homestead vulnerable to his next attack. If I were him, I'd already be on my way here, leading my own fleet into battle while yours heads to an empty planet."

"We thought of that," Luffa said through clenched teeth. Her tail moved in such a way that would have made her growing irritation very obvious to anyone who understood Saiyan body language. But to the aliens delegates of the council, she simply appeared to be slightly anxious to get underway. "The entire Saiyan Free Company will be going with me to Nagaoka, along with the third and sixth fleet from the Federation Navy. Booth will be taking the ninth fleet to the Gelbo System, about halfway between Nagaoka and here. The rest of our forces will remain in Federation space to deal with any new invaders. From Gelbo, Booth can coordinate with both fronts, and deploy reinforcements wherever they're needed."

"Will the remaining fleets be enough to protect us?" asked Saith Reinar of Rastraw II. Her exoskeleton clicked and the gold bangles on her six limbs clinked as she trembled with anxiety. "We've all seen what those Saiyans can do once they reach the surface of an inhabited world--!"

"Which is precisely why we must intercept and destroy incoming ships before that happens," Booth said. "I have already issued new shelter orders for civilian populations, and local defense forces have been mobilized for--"

"None of that will mean anything if a band of these Saiyan fanatics get past your fleet!" said of Bort Samsa of Drakkenfilt. His body was covered in a thick layer of symbiotic moss, which made his form difficult to make out. "They've managed to do it time and time again during this war, even with all of our forces on the defensive! And now you want to send troops to Gelbo!?"

Booth didn't have a tail, although Luffa could imagine what it might have looked like if he had one. "We have to take the offensive," he insisted. "If we adopt a siege mentality, then the enemy will simply wear us down."

"Hold on a moment," said of Chet Vil, President of Boiperpei. He spoke slowly, more deliberately than the others. While they seemed more terrified of the risks, he talked as though giving a speech to his caninoid constituents back home. "In these unprecedented times, it's clear that there's a great deal at stake. And I think that what we should be focusing on is finding a way to attack the enemy and defend our territory at the same time, without dividing our brave fighting forces. It could be very beneficial to the Federation. Why, just think of what we might accomplish, not only in this war, but in future conflicts."

"You're an idiot," Luffa said. "I only came here to brief you all on my plans, so that you could prepare your people for what might happen if anything goes wrong. I'm not interested in suggestions, especially nonsense. You're up, Dotz."

Nearby, Dotz rose from her chair and gingerly waved to the councilors, then clasped her hands together for a moment, before fidgeting with the purple shawl that hung around her neck and shoulders.

"We've been briefed about your psychic, Madam Federatrix," said Tak-Tik of Kopey. "And we know that her predictions are no guarantee of success."

"Dotz can see the future a lot more clearly than anyone else in this room," Luffa said with a smile. "And she's accurately predicted every Jindan attack inside of Federation space. The only reason we've taken as many losses as we have is because we couldn't always keep up with the invasions, but she always knew where they would show up, and when. Tell them what you told me, Dotz."

"W-well," she began. "I've been trying to improve my abilities lately, for the war effort and all. When Luffa told me about this attack on Nagaoka, she asked me to find out if the prisoner she captured was telling the truth about it. I saw a battle taking place there. Very terrible, but I can't tell anything specific about it. So there must be something there worth fighting over."

There was a rumble of murmurs from the council, and Luffa gestured for Dotz to continue.

"As for the Federation, um, well I'm sorry, but I don't really see any fighting inside your territory, not with Saiyan invaders anyway. Other enemies are harder for me to forsee, unless you have one in mind that you want me to look out for."

"I can't be sure of Dotz' maximum limit," Luffa explained, "but she's forecast battles a month before I fought them. The accuracy gets kind of fuzzy further out than that, but it won't take more than two weeks for the fleet to reach Nagaoka. Dotz says the cult won't make a move while we're gone, and that's good enough for me. Even if something did happen, you'll have Booth's group one week away at Gelbo."

"Convenient, ain't it?" asked Prester Ganzut. "That the enemy'd suddenly stop attacking us like that, for no good reason."

Luffa turned to look at him with an eager gleam in her eye. "Oh, I'll give them a reason to stop attacking, Prester," she said. "They won't attack the Federation because they'll all be dead after I finish attacking them. Or maybe they'll win, and you all can negotiate a settlement over my dead body. Either way, the war will be over, which only confirms that Nagaoka is where the last battle will be fought."

"And we should accept this as fact? Based on the words of this... this confidence man?"

Luffa shot a dirty look at a woman who now stood up from the group. "Do you have a problem, General Bailgrad?"

The general made a self-satisfied smirk as she peered over her glasses to look down at Luffa on the floor. "Not with you, Madam Federatrix, but I have a duty to object to the quality of your advisors. It's shameful enough that our entire defense is centered around 'psychic' visions, however accurate they may be."

"Dotz's prophecies are legitimate, General," Luffa growled. "I wouldn't have consulted with her if I didn't believe in her abilities."

"It's not a question of ability," Bailgrad replied. "It's a matter of allegiance, of competency. How can you trust someone who's not even a Federation citizen, who has no stake in this war? Why, just look at him."

"What?!" Luffa snapped.

"Really, Luffa, I'd like to think that women have made some genuine progress in this society. You're a role model, and it's very damaging to your cause when you humor such infantile notions that biology can be circumvented, simply by dressing up like my grandmother. How can we even take seriously a prophet who doesn't know whether he's a--"

As Bailgrad spoke, Luffa stretched out her hand, and quickly twisted her wrist, pointing her index and middle fingers toward the ceiling. As she did, the general suddenly exploded where she stood. Everyone around her cried out in terror, and yet, the force of the blast was directed upward, the energy so carefully controlled, that the people nearest to Bailgrad felt only a stiff breeze. As for the general herself, nothing remained but her shoes, and a plume of smoke that rose up from them.

"I'll only say this once," Luffa said. "Dotz has saved countless lives in this war. She has my complete confidence. If any of you dare to insult her like that again, I will slaughter you without hesitation. Now. Does anyone else have anything to say?"

No one did. And so Luffa adjourned the meeting, and gestured for Dotz to follow her back to her ship.

"Y-you didn't have to do that," Dotz finally said.

Before Luffa could reply, she noticed Prester Ganzut running after them from the corridor.

"Luffa, wait!"

"The meeting is adjourned, Prester," Luffa said coldly.

"Beggin' your pardon," he said, "but you know it ain't that simple. That wasn't some buck private you just destroyed. Bailgrad's got a lot of friends on Despye. Lot of pull in the rest of the Federation too, f'r that matter."

"Hah! Not anymore, she doesn't," Luffa said with a smirk.

"Consarn it, I'm serious, Luffa!" Ganzut said. He wore the pink overalls of a simple Despyan farmer, but he was as much a career politician as the rest of them. His snowy white hair and leathery skin only meant that he had been doing it longer than most. There was a time, not so long ago, when she found him and others like him to be somewhat amusing.

"So am I," Luffa said. "I protect all of you people by choice, and somehow you think I'm just going to sit quietly and lick your boots while you disrespect my comrades? Think again, Prester."

"I know what you're capable of, ma'am," he said. "And personally, I think Bailgrad deserved what she got. Not much of a general if she couldn't see the tactical flaws in pissin' you off."

"She wasn't a general at all," Luffa said. "Just another pencil pusher behind a desk, handed a title she was never qualified to hold. Just like all of those 'friends' on Despye you were warning me about, Prester. Now that I think about it, maybe someone needs to clean things up on this planet of yours."

He chuckled for a moment, and then his eyes went wide as he realized she wasn't joking. For a split second, his arm reached out, as if he meant to grab her by the shoulder. Perhaps this was how he was used to scolding other women of Luffa's size and stature, but he thought better of it, and kept his hands to himself.

"It don't work that way!" he said, almost pleadingly. "Can't you see that? I thought you woulda learned by now how complicated this stuff is. The government only works when it keeps enough of the people in line. Sometimes that means making compromises, darlin'. You scratch someone's back so they'll scratch yours later. You learn to eat slop and like the taste, because not all of us can break a mountain in two, or shoot lasers out of our hands. It's all a popularity contest, and--" he paused to glance at Dotz-- "beggin' your friend's pardon, there's a lot of rotten ideas out there that are a lot more popular than you are."

"Is there a point to all of this, Prester?" Luffa asked.

"Dagnabbit, I'm tryin' to tell you that if you keep throwin' your weight around, there won't be any Federation left to run! You probably don't look at the polls, but folks ain't as keen on you as they used to be. Some of 'em think you're a troublemaker, and there's plenty others who say you started this whole war, just so your Saiyan buddies could take over. Nobody can stop you, but if you push them too far, a bunch of 'em will die trying, and they'll ruin everything else while they're at it. So just... just back off a hair, is all I'm sayin'."

"Is that all? Fine. Here's what I say."

She grabbed Ganzut by the front of his pink overalls, and lifted him off his feet with one hand. Dotz gasped at the sight of this, but knew better than to interfere. To Ganzut's credit, he didn't panic, though it was clear from his expression that he would have much rather stayed on the ground.

"You probably think I don't keep up with current events much," Luffa said as she stared into his eyes. "I'm so busy fighting your wars, or looking for my own battles, so you figure you can do as you please while my back is turned. That's what got Bailgrad killed, Prester. She got so complacent, so used to thinking she was untouchable, that she forgot how to behave when I was right in front of her."

Ganzut tried to talk, but there really wasn't anything he could say at this point, so he ended up just making a series of nonverbal grunts. Luffa smiled.

"The fact is, I have been paying attention to what goes on in the Federation. The deal was that all of you kings and ministers and presidents would work together and keep things running smoothly while I protected you. And you've done a halfway decent job, but there's plenty of corruption and inequality in the system. Humanoids like Dotz don't get the respect they deserve. The outbreak of space cholera on Fedender is being completely mishandled. Some third-rate celebrity has been stirring up a campaign to harass Ichthyoids on Eetie, based on some laughable conspiracy! Oh, and one of your own department heads has been withholding technical services to farmers with malfunctioning equipment. Are you going to tell me to back off from that, Prester?"

"W-we're workin' on that!" Ganzut said.

Luffa dropped him to the floor. "Work harder," she said. "Because when I get back from Nagaoka, I may just decide to take matters into my own hands. And you might not like the way I solve problems. I won't be very popular by the time I get done, but that's never mattered much to me before."

She turned and left with Dotz. Ganzut gathered himself from the floor, coughing and struggling to catch his breath.

*******

"What did he say then?"

"Nothing. What could he say? He probably thought if he argued with me anymore, I'd kill him like I killed Bailgrad."

"Would you?" Zatte asked.

"Nah, he's not such a bad guy," Luffa said. "He's in a difficult position, or at least what he thinks is difficult. I killed Bailgrad because she was an embarrassment. She owed her life to Dotz's predictions. A little courtesy is a small price to pay."

After the conference, Luffa had returned to her ship, which she and Zatte prepared for the long trip to Nagaoka. Together, they took inventory of the supplies in the cargo bay.

"Is that what's next for us?" Zatte asked as she checked the expiration date on a crate of flour. "After we settle things on Nagaoka, I mean. I was starting to think you were planning to leave the Federation for good."

"Oh, I thought about it," Luffa said. "Trouble is, there's nothing else out there for me. I started this alliance to make things simpler for me while I hunted down Kandai. Ever since then it's been more trouble than it's worth, but there's no bigger battles out there for me to find. I might as well stay put and hope the competition comes to me."

"You don't think Nagaoka will be big enough for you?" Zatte asked.

"To tell you the truth, it doesn't matter much anymore. I... maybe this won't make any sense, but I'm sick of this war. When it started, it seemed like a proper challenge, but I've just been fighting variations of the same battle over and over again. The only real issue is keeping my injuries under control, and making sure we get to the next planet in time. It's more about time management than combat. The enemy knows they can't match my power, so they're just trying to wear me down, so what could they hope to do when they're on the defensive?"

"They might have a secret weapon or two," Zatte offered. "Something Guwar doesn't know about."

"Thanks for trying to cheer me up, but I think they would have used something like that by now," Luffa said. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. When this is over, there probably won't be any new fights for a while, and I think I'm okay with that. I think I'd rather wait for something big to show up instead of trying to force it. I just have to keep busy in the meantime."

"So this social justice campaign is your new hobby?"

Luffa lifted a tank of potable water to read the lot number on the bottom. "I'm not looking forward to it, if that's what you mean. I just know there's a lot of people like Ganzut who feel like they're stuck, and to me it doesn't seem all that hard to get them unstuck. There must be something I can do, and I'm not afraid to bust some heads to make it happen."

"Well I think it's perfect," Zatte said. "It might take you a while to get the hang of it, but with your power, there's no limit to the good you might do for people. Not to mention all the other Saiyans."

"What about them?" Luffa asked.

"Well, with Rehval defeated, they'll have to recognize you for what you are, right?"

Luffa put down the tank and shook her head. "You're a dreamer, Zattie. You ought to know by now how stubborn my people are."

"Seltiss is starting to see it," Zatte said. "And Guwar too. They won't admit it, but I can tell. They wanted Rehval or someone like him to prove you wrong, but now that they see him for what he really is..."

"I can see it now," Luffa said. "'And that's the story, children, of how Old Luffa got all the Saiyans to start planting trees and lobby for fairer transportation laws.'"

"Hey, don't sell yourself short," Zatte said. "You can do anything you set your mind to. And don't worry about getting bored. Trouble usually finds you sooner or later."

"Hah! I hadn't thought of it that way," Luffa said. "Maybe it won't be so bad after all."

NEXT: Left Behind

#dragon ball #fanfiction #lssjluffafic #super saiyan #luffa #zatte #prester ganzut #dotz #ryba booth #guwar #general bailgrad #despye

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yet-another-fan-girl9 · 4 years ago

Text

Who We Are (5)

Summary: With both your parents dead, you are sent to live with your uncle, Tony Stark. With your new friends, Peter and Ned, you investigate the people selling the alien tech weapons.

Warnings: Canon violence, language (?)

Word Count: 1339

THIS FIC WAS TRANSFERRED FROM MY WATTPAD

Chapter 5

You woke up in a place that was definitely not your room. You propped yourself up on your arms. There was an IV tube sticking into your left arm and a heart rate monitor beeping beside you.

The pain had stopped.

Looking around, you discovered you were in a corner of Tony's workshop. Someone had set up a mini hospital room around the bed you were laying in. A clock on the wall read 9:53, and, guessing by the lack of sunlight coming through the window, it was in the evening.

I must have been out for a couple of hours. You look around for your phone to see if Peter had any updates on the stone, but someone must have taken it out of your pocket..

"Hello, (Y/N). I will alert your uncle that you have woken up." FRIDAY's voice rang through the room.

"Um, yeah, okay, thanks, I guess," You mumble. Barely a minute later Tony burst into his workshop. Wasn't he just on a trip?

"Great you're awake," He said breathlessly as he pulled up a holographic file. He looked at the clock. "Two days and seven hours." He noted. "Close to last time."

"Wait." With two sentences your uncle gave you millions of questions. "Two DAYS? LAST TIME? I WAS OUT FOR TWO DAYS AND THERE WAS A LAST TIME?"

"Here." Tony tossed you your phone and ignored your outburst. "That thing was going off like crazy. Your boyfriend was worried." You looked at your phone seeing hundreds of texts from Peter.

"He's not my boyfriend," You mutter under your breath.

"He even dropped by to check on you." Tony looked at you. "You told him."

"Well, he told me about him being Spider-man," You said defensively.

"Teenagers." Tony put his head in his hands. "Can't keep a secret."

"Can you answer my questions now?" You shove your phone in your pocket. You'll talk to Peter later. "I was out for two days? There was a last time?" Tony sighed and closed the holographic file before answering you.

"You know why you never really came here when you were younger?"

"I remember you and my dad had a fight."

"Yes, we did. You all had come during one of your school breaks. It was just after the battle of New York, and you were about seven or eight. I told your dad that you three should come another time, but he had been planning it for a while. The streets were mostly cleared of debris, but you could never know what would be in corners of small alleys.

"We were sitting outside, having lunch in one of my favorite little Italian places when you wandered off. It was in a small plaza, but you wandered into an alley. There was a flash of purple light from the alley and when we got to you," Your uncle took a deep breath before continuing. "When we got to you, you were unconscious. We took you back to the tower and, in two days and seven hours, you woke up. Your father and I got into an argument about it and you left."

"Oh." You tried to wrap your head around it. "Wow."

"When you were in your little coma I ran some tests, this time too. Last time nothing changed, but this time-" He opened another holographic screen and sat next to you.

"You're going to have to explain this to me because I don't understand anything on here." The screen showed two strands of DNA side by side.

"This is you last time." He pointed to the one on the left. "And this is you now." The one on the right was slightly different. "It's not a big difference, but something in you must have changed." You nodded as Tony talked. "That must have been why you were in so much pain, your DNA was rewriting itself. I didn't want you messing around with alien tech because I thought it would trigger something in you from the first time. And I didn't want you to get hurt." You were surprised by this. Seeing the soft side of Tony Stark is a rare occurrence. "You're the only living family member I've got left, (Y/N). I don't want to lose you too."

You realized that you were in the same position with your uncle as your last living relative. Seeing your uncle sentimental was strange. "So what do you think changed? I don't feel any different."

"Well, I guess we just wait until you grow a tail or something." Tony stood up.

"You're joking, right?" You watched your uncle start to clean up. "Tony tell me you're joking." You aim the words at him.

"I'm joking," He replied, his back to you. Maybe it was your imagination, but he sounded quite monotoned. When Tony spoke again he sounded normal, "You should eat some real food, and get some real sleep. You have the bus to DC early tomorrow. Regionals for the Academic Decathlon, nice."

"How did you know about that?"

"I read your school record, they update those things fast. Also Spider-kid sent a text about it."

"You read my texts?"

"Just that one, it was at the top. You should go pack."

"I don't think I can go. I haven't even gone to one of the practices. There was one yesterday, but I was... you know. I probably won't be competing."

"Still, you should go, (Y/N). It'll be fun. You can make friends with other people who aren't Spider-boy."

"But I-"

"Go."

"But-"

"GO."

"Fine." You took the elevator up to the kitchen, where you stocked up on food, then your room. Laying on your bed you finally decide to read the texts from Peter.

(Wed. Oct. 11) Peter - Hey, (Y/N). I just wanted to check if you were ok. Text me when you can. I'll keep you updated.

(Wed. Oct. 11) Peter - the craziest thing just happedn. So two guys came to the school and were lookign for thes tone and i think they work for the person whos running the waeapons thing and i put a tracjer on one of their shoes so ned and i ca nsee where their secret base is. Keep you updated.

He must have been excited because of the many typos in the text. The next couple of texts were locations: Brooklyn, Staten Island, they left Jersey, they stopped in Maryland. The following texts were him checking if you were okay. Answer me when you can.

(6 hrs ago) Peter - I dropped by the Avenger's tower after school today to check on you. They wouldn't let me past the first floor. I have your homework whenever you want it.

(4 hrs ago) Peter - They're still in Maryland btw

(4 hrs ago) Peter - The guys I was tracking.

(4 hrs ago) Peter - I don't know how i'm gonna get there. Text me when you can.

(42 min ago) Peter - I know how i'll get there. The academic decathlon is this weekend in dc. Are you going?

The texts stopped there. You quickly text back, hoping he was still awake.

You - Hey Peter, i'm fine. I think.

He answered back not even a full minute later.

Peter - What happened? Can you still go to dc?

You - I'll tell you what happened tomorrow.

You - Tony convinced me that i should go. But i havent even gone to a practice.

Peter - Mr. harrington is nice. He'll let you come

You - I probably won't do anything

Peter - You can help me take out the bad guys.

You - Ok then... i'll go

"(Y/N),Tony wants me to tell you to go to bed immediately." FRIDAY's voice suddenly echoed through your room, starling you.

"Okay FRIDAY, thanks. I will in a sec."

You - I've gotta go. Tell you everything tomorrow.

Peter - See you. Glad youre feeling better.

You smile, put your phone away, and asked FRIDAY to turn off the lights.

#who we are #spider-man #spider-man: homecoming #peter parker x reader

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emospritelet · 5 years ago

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Masterlist Day 2019

Behold, my masterlist of Rumbelle variations boinking and angsting their way through various scenarios!

I checked all the links the other day so they should work. If any don’t, please let me know, as they seem to have a tendency to break or send you to the wrong fic. Under the cut because - well, because there are a lot

Multi-chapter Masterlist

One-Shots

Multi-chapter Masterlist

All fic links are to AO3, and you may need an AO3 account to read some of them, as I have them locked down due to unprotected fics being scooped from that site without consent

The Long Game - Rumbelle. Winner of TEAs for Best AU and Best FIc in 2014. Gold and Belle have known and loved one another in a hundred lives, and he’s spent the past seven lifetimes searching for her. Humour, angst, and plenty of smut. COMPLETE - rated E

Bound For All Eternity - Rumbelle. Remix of The Long Game and TEA winner of Best Remix in 2015. Belle meets Gold when she’s 16, with all the awkwardness that entails. WIP - rated E

Playing to Win - Rumbelle. Series of one-shots from the Long Game verse, based on prompts received. Most of them are smutty. WIP - rated E

Homecoming - Ogilvelle. Winner of Best Anyelle in TEAs 2019. AU in the Long Game verse, set in 1905. Mr Ogilvy has been looking for his lost love for centuries, and has been giving up all hope of finding her. That is, until he receives a visit from a young woman in search of a job as governess. WIP - rated M (for now)

Penance - Rumbelle. Winner of Best Barely Legal Belle in the TEAs 2017. Teacher!Gold and Student!Belle begin an illicit relationship following an encounter in his office. One of the angstiest things I have ever written. COMPLETE - rated E

Knowledge is Power - Rumbelle. Set after 5x12. Belle’s emails with ‘the Oxford professor’ turn out to be very helpful, and she starts to develop a relationship with him. COMPLETE - rated E

The Stranger - My first Ivelle fic and TEA winner for Best Ivelle in 2016. Colonel Ives arrives in the town of Storybrooke, and gets the attention of the local librarian. COMPLETE - rated E

Buried Treasure - Golden Lace fic. Lacey tries to take Mr Gold’s mind off his lost love. I fully intended this to be PWP, but it turned angsty :( COMPLETE - rated E

Neverland - Rumbelle. Mr Gold is Belle’s English teacher, and also works as an escort. She unknowingly hires him for her first time. COMPLETE - rated E

Pixie Dust - Rumbelle. Remix of Neverland and winner of Best Remix in the TEAs 2017. Belle is unhappily married to Gaston and discovers he has been unfaithful. Ruby suggests hiring an escort. COMPLETE - rated E

The Course of True Love - Rumbelle. Angsty version of how the fight scene in 6:04 might have gone. Also a kind of fix-it fic, in the end. Winner of Best Angst: Hurts So Good in the TEAs 2017. COMPLETE - rated E

Outsider - Rumbelle. Winner of Best AU in the TEAs 2018. Belle is running from her past, when she stumbles into Storybrooke, and its most infamous resident COMPLETE - rated E

Tiger Lilies - Winner of Best Anyelle fic in the TEAs 2017. Golden Lace/Rushacey fic set in the Neverland verse. Lacey has a complicated relationship with her college professor Dr Rush, and decides to hire an escort that looks like him to work out some of her frustrations. COMPLETE - rated E

Vermillion - Rushbelle. series of one-shots based on prompts for the Tiger Lilies verse. WIP - rated E

Waiting Game - Golden Lace. Winner of Best Angst: Oops! in the TEAs 2018. Lacey is Neal’s college friend, and ends up sleeping with Mr Gold when he comes to visit Neal one day. The whole thing gets angsty due to a misunderstanding, but it’s resolved :) COMPLETE - rated E

Empty Corridors - Golden Lace. Winner of Best Golden Lace Fic in the TEAs 2018. Lacey has a bad relationship with her father, and it only gets worse after she hears about the offer he once made Gold. Unable to make rent, she takes matters into her own hands. But is Gold as ruthless as the town thinks? COMPLETE - rated E

Sacrifice - Rumbelle. Winner of Best AU!OUAT in the TEAs 2018. A new curse has stolen everyone’s memories, Gideon has been de-aged and Belle lives in a tiny house in the crappy part of town, unable to make rent. When her landlord Mr Gold threatens to evict her, she offers the only thing of value she has. COMPLETE - rated E

Cuckoo’s Flight - Rumbelle. Dr Hopper releases Belle from the asylum, and she meets Storybrooke’s notorious landlord at the Rabbit Hole. Season 1 AU. COMPLETE - rated E

Tis The Season - including Rumbelle, Golden Lace, Rushaceyrush, Dwarf Star, Swan Queen, Swanfire, Swanfirequeen, Wooden Swan, Floof Family, Malcolm x Fiona, Red Cricket, Brave Warrior, Dragon Queen. Mostly fluffy ficlets with a festive theme. COMPLETE - most ficlets rated T, some rated E

Crystal Tears - Rumbelle. With the ogres approaching her lands and her father betrayed by his own men, Belle must get away to safety. With the help of Graham, her father’s Master of the Hunt, she flees the castle in the midst of a storm, finding her way to the Dark Castle, and its strange inhabitant… WIP - rated M

Sparks - Rumbelle. Series of Dark Castle one-shots. Belle and Rumple adopt a baby dragon. WIP - rated E

Dark Heart - Rumbelle. Winner of Best AU and Best Mr Gold in the TEAs 2019. After a brief affair with Mr Gold and a bitter break-up almost two years ago, Belle returns to Storybrooke to visit her sick father. But there is a secret that she has been keeping. COMPLETE - rated E

Twisted Fate - Rumbelle. Remix of Dark Heart in which Belle manages to tell Gold she’s pregnant about seven months in. She’s wary and hostile, and he doesn’t know how to make things better, but he’s determined to try for the sake of their child. WIP - rated E

Kiss of Life - Rumbelle. Hospital AU slow burn fic. Winner of Best Storybrooke in TEAs 2019. Belle moves to Storybrooke and gets a job helping out at the hospital, where she develops a crush on Dr Gold. COMPLETE - rated E

Things Left Unsaid - Woven Lace. Winner of Best Woven Lace in TEAs 2019. Weaver takes Lacey in to save her from the streets, which leads to a one-night stand and a surprise pregnancy. Three and a half years later, Lacey asks for a divorce, but all is not what it seems. WIP - rated E

Opening Lines - Woven Lace. Prequel to Things Left Unsaid. Detective Weaver’s world changes forever when a young woman bumps into him after witnessing a murder. Friends to lovers with eventual smut. COMPLETE - rated E

Closing the Circle - Rumbelle. Winner of Best Smut: Kink and Best AU!Gold/Rumple in TEAs 2019. Belle, Mulan and Aurora have an interest in supernatural creatures, so what happens when they travel to Storybrooke to interact with the creatures that live there? In Belle’s case, mostly hot sex with ancient vampire Mr Gold. WIP - rated E

Sugar and Spice - Woven Lace. It’s Christmas Eve and Lacey’s oven isn’t working, so she asks her neighbour if she can cook Christmas dinner at his for them both. Snark, sass and eventual smut. COMPLETE - rated E

Goodbye Kiss - Woven Beauty. Detective Weaver has been in love with Belle French almost from the first moment he met her, but never thought his feelings might be returned. Christmas fluff and smut. COMPLETE - rated E

I.O.U. - Golden Lace. Lacey is desperate for cash, and tries to sell some debts to Mr Gold. Sass and sex ensue. COMPLETE - rated E

Honourable Members - Sutherelle. Belle French is an ambitious and feisty new MP and Prime Minister is equally irritated and fascinated by her. COMPLETE - rated E

Key to the Cell - Dark Castle Rumbelle. Belle doesn’t want the marriage her father has arranged for her, and seeks help from an old book, and the Dark One. WIP - rated M (for now)

One-Shots

Most fic links are to AO3

Last Man Standing - Golden Lace. Gold and Lacey are both escorts, each thinking the other is their client for the evening. Just smut, really - rated E

A New Chapter - Rumbelle Secret Santa 2014. Belle gets Rumple a special Christmas present, and tries something new - rated E

Made to Measure - Rumbelle RCIJ 2016. Fashion designer!Gold makes actress!Belle a dress for the premiere of her film. Lots of sexual tension and eventual smut - rated E

Ever After - written upon seeing the promo for the FTL AU in 4X21 and 4X22. Lady Belle unlaces Sir Rumple from his leather pants - rated E

A Taste of Freedom - Ivelle - written for Rumbelle Order in the Court. Smutty one-shot where Belle is Ives’s defence attorney in a murder case - rated E

Nothing But The Truth - Rumbelle. Thus far my only Dark Castle Rumbelle smut fic. Belle makes a deal with her master that has unexpected consequences for them both - rated E

Valley of Water - Rumbelle. Written for the Rumbelle Summer Vacation event. Rumple, Belle and baby Gideon visit the Lake District. Fluff and smut - rated E

Number 9 - Rumbelle. Winner of Best Smut: PWP in the TEAs 2018. Post season six finale fic. Belle wants the stamina to keep up with the Dark One, so asks Rumple to make a potion. Smutty smut! - rated E

Wolf’s Time - Rumbelle. Winner of Best Spinner!Rumple in the TEAs 2018. Rumbelle Revelry fic. Spinner!Rumple meets Witch!Belle - rated E

Midwinter’s Kiss - Rumbelle. Belle has been looking forward to the Midwinter Festival in the Dark Castle, but things get even more exciting when Rumple takes her on a trip to Arendelle - rated E

Small World verse (WovenRushBelle, Woven Lace, Golden Lace, Woven Golden Lace) - rated E

Love and Trust - WovenRushBelle. Rush and Belle are in a committed relationship but Belle has always wanted a threesome, so Rush asks his best friend…

Small World - Woven Lace. Weaver meets a girl called Lacey in Roni’s, and she’s just his type…

Turn Left - Golden Lace. Lacey returns to Storybrooke and decides to sleep with the pawnbroker she’s been trading sarcastic comments with

Off Duty - Woven Lace. Lacey’s loser boyfriend is arrested and jailed, and when she meets the detective responsible in Roni’s bar, sparks fly - rated E

Bravery Will Follow - Rumbelle. Reunion smut set post 2x01 - rated E

Drinking to Forget (Woven Lace) Winner of Best Series and Best Detective Weaver in the TEAs 2018 - rated E

Sex and Violence - Detective Weaver goes to Roni’s bar for a drink, and bumps into a girl called Lacey. There follows banter, UST, and a lot of smut

Round Two - Weaver is teased by Alice and he and Lacey have another night of hot smut at his place

Probable Cause - Lacey dresses up for Halloween and she and Weaver indulge in tricks and treats!

Damaged But Not Broken - Weaver gets a new partner, and Lacey finds an interesting trinket at Alice’s place

Smoke and Mirrors - Weaver and French investigate a murder, and his feelings for Lacey grow deeper

Almost Like Family - it’s Christmas, and Weaver and Lacey have fun with eggnog before being interrupted by Alice and French

Living Arrangements - Weaver begins to realise the depths of his feelings for Lacey, and makes an important decision

Rude Awakening - Rumple has his memories back, but reacts very badly to seeing someone who is the image of his dead wife.

Lost and Found - Lacey waits for Weaver to wake up so she can yell at him. Alice guides Rumple to the truth about his lost love.

Full Circle - Rumple takes Belle to Storybrooke to try to find a way to restore her knowledge of their old life and tries to keep her at arm’s length. Belle has other ideas.

The Return - Rumple returns Belle’s memories at the wishing well

Honeymoon Series (Rumbelle) - COMPLETE - rated E

1. Newlyweds - Rumple and Belle’s wedding night, with a little angst, lots of smut, and Hook making Moe French very uncomfortable

2. Something Blue - the morning after the wedding night, and the diners at Granny’s take an interest in the newlyweds.

3. Cabin Fever - Belle tells Rumple that she found him attractive in his EF persona, and the Charmings happen upon the happy couple while on a walk in the woods. Winner of TEA for Best Smut: Comedy 2015

4. The Many Uses Of Magic - Rumple shows Belle a useful spell, and Hook grosses out the occupants at Granny’s diner and gets a punch on the nose for his troubles

5. Red Velvet - Rumbelle roleplay - the Dark One’s maid has a problem that only he can help her with

6. Shadows at Midnight - Rumple has a flashback to his imprisonment with Zelena, and Belle is there to help him. Starts of angsty, ends up smutty

7. Light and Shadow - Rumple takes Belle on a boat ride, with a little help from Lumiere

Erotic Destiny series (Rushbelle) - all smutty. TEA winner for Best Rushbelle and Smut: Best Anyelle 2015 - rated E

1. Power Play - Belle is determined to have the last word with Dr Rush, for once

2. Curious - Belle gives Rush a surprise

3. Control - Rush has been avoiding Belle since the ‘incident’, so she seeks him out

4. Personal Matters - waking up in bed with Rush leads to an argument. Then smut.

5. Direct Orders - Belle and Rush have been fighting at work, and Young orders them to get some rest

6. Before the Storm - surprisingly just smut, no fighting

7. Third Party Evidence - Colonel Young finds out Rush and Belle are having sex

8. Open To Interpretation - Young tries to talk some sense into Belle. It does not go well

9. Going Down - clue’s in the title *winks*

10. Green Eyes - Belle gets a handsome friend to come aboard Destiny, and Rush is jealous

11. Silence - Rush is being distant, and Belle tries to find out why.

12. Only in Your Head - when Belle is stranded on an alien plant, Rush resorts to drastic action in an attempt to save her.

Rushbelle one-shots

Fragile - Rushbelle. Rush is still mourning the loss of his wife when he meets a stranger in a bar who has her own grief. Please read the tags on this one - rated E

Pleasure in Grief - Rush is insensitive, and Belle is upset with him. Smut ensues - rated E

Three’s Company - TEA winner for Best Threesome 2015 - RushBelleRush smut on Destiny - rated E

Hunger - Rush is infected with a vampiric parasite that wants Belle’s blood even more than he wants her body - rated E

Look Back in Anger - Rushbelle fic written for The Great Rumbelle Blow Off. Lieutenant Belle French decides to channel her irritation with Rush into sucking him off - rated E

Open Fire - follow up to Look Back in Anger. Fuck or die fic where Lt French and Dr Rush are trapped on a planet in a rainstorm and seek shelter - and a way to keep warm - rated E

Extracurricular series - RumBelleRush teacher/student/teacher smut - rated E

1. A Shift in Focus - Prof!Rush fucks Student!Belle in his car

2. Crossing The Line - Prof!Gold goes down on Student!Belle in his office and later fucks her in his apartment.

3. Secret Affairs - the morning after, Belle has to deal with a suspicious Ruby and later goes to Rush’s office to arrange a date that evening, with smutty results.

4. Unrequited - Gold accidentally sexts Rush, much to Belle’s amusement. She helps him feel better in his office. Erotic art then appears around the university featuring Gold and Rush, and Rush trolls Gold, meaning Belle has to punish him with a public blowjob

5. San Francisco - RumBelleRush threesome smut! TEA winner of Best Threesome 2016

6. Fire and Ice - More RumBelleRush threesome smut, wherein they’re snowed in at a hotel, and make use of a sauna, shower and Gold’s bedroom for sexy times. TEA winner of Best Threesome 2017

7. Peaches and Longing - threesome smut in a hotel, following their car breaking down on a road trip. Winner of Best Threesome 2018.

#masterlist day 2019 #rumbelle #rushbelle #anyelle #ogilvelle #golden lace #woven lace #ivelle #sutherelle

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greennightspider · 6 years ago

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A self- rant

So. I am about to post theeeee first chapter of a fanfiction that I have been really nervous about, mostly because this is probably the first fanfiction that I have really cared about deep in my SOUL. I’m taking this one seriously because I love the idea and its just flown out of me and I want to do it justice. But, as this is tumblr, I am also scared that I’m going to be too distracted by notes. I would be lying if I said that seeing something I really am trying to work hard on and perfect get low notes would hit me hard, because it would. But I’m trying to remember why I even came back to tumblr.

I wanted a safe place. For me. At first I never actually cared about followers or notes or anything. I was just really happy to find a place where I could be myself and post what I wanted and just create almost like a moodboard, for me. A place where I could find MYself and it didn’t matter what anyone else thought of it. But ofc lately with some of my first fanfics being popular as, Id be lying if it hadn’t gone to my head a bit, and Ive found myself basing how much I love a fanfic based on how many notes it got. So that is what Im going to try and NOT do.

In all honesty, I’ve only written two chapters of this fic but its gonna be long and I love it so much, but I’m going to try and love it unconditionally. I dont want to care if it gets one or one hundred notes. I dont want to care if it gets no comments, or no reblogs. Because no matter what, I love it. And Im posting it here because I really want it on MY blog, as a part of this whole bigass moodboard of mine. And maybe because as a bonus, maybe there might be one person who reads it and becomes invested and loves it too, and maybe it brightens their day.

This fic surprised me because I didn’t even know that it was going to become what it is or how important it would become to me. Like I wanna one day rewrite it into a flippin BOOK! But you know what, I’m going to keep posting it here. Not for glorification, or recognition, or even validation. And, idm if it even gets zero notes. I just want it on my blog because its mine, and i’m proud of it, and I’m gonna love it regardless :)

#reminder to myself #fanfiction #greennightspider

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amoristt · 7 years ago

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Breathe | Peter x Reader

Anonymous asked: I read your Peter Parker fic and I liked it, can you write another? Maybe one where reader is taken and he rescues her?

yessss more peter <3 i just watched homecoming and ive been dying to write more of him! thanks so much for requesting and please enjoy!

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

You woke with a start, your head pounding so hard it almost felt as though it was reverberating through your every last nerve. It raced from your aching head to your toes, and it made you squeeze either side of your temples in hopes of appeasement the awful pulsing. This wasn’t like the migraines you got while doing homework, or the stress headaches that kept you up at night, no this pain in particular felt like something much more… Precise. Carefully your fingers slid their way through your hair, over the top of your skull then to the back of your head where your hair starts to feel sticky.

Half dazed already, you almost passed out when the palm of your hand met something horribly sensitive just below the base of your skull. You gasped in agony, leaned forward and ripping your hand away from the affected area, your stomach dropping when you felt your fingers were wet with something you couldn’t see in the dark. If your throat didn’t feel like it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper you’d have cried at both the pain and the thought of knowing your head was damaged, but hardly any sound came out at all.

Without any idea where you were or what had happened you were left to try and ravage your brain for any competent memory that could aid in finding out why you were in this situation. The last thing you remember, even though it was a blurry one at that, was being in your living room. Something had… Startled you. You could recall jumping up from your couch, carefully treading into the bedroom where you’d heard a commotion. After that there was nothing.

You shifted in your spot, atop something hard as a rock, and began to try and feel your surroundings. It all felt the same. Hard, cold, uncomfortable. Afraid you’d discover something unruly you tentatively felt at every part of your body, starting from your feet, then your knees, waist, chest, and shoulders. Other than the screaming wound on your head there didn’t seem to be any more remarkable injuries. There was some obvious bruising however, and it was evident every time you tried to move anything other than your arms. Your ribs felt like they’d been crushed, your legs weighing one thousand pounds. It almost felt like you’d been hit by a truck, or possibly dropped off a cliff.

Gritted moans of pain occasionally sounded when you tried to move from your upright position, and you hissed when you leaned your head back just for a moment only to feel like surging sting of pain when the spot nudged against the wall behind you. Nothing was adding up in your head and you were all alone in the dark, in god knows where. It was likely no one knew where you were either.

Your mind raced with thoughts of Peter.

He was spider man, surely he know that you’d been taken, you were his girlfriend after all. He must keep some sort of tabs on you what with all the villains he faces.

Stomach churning, you almost threw up at the realization that this whole thing could be because of Peter. Not directly of course, he would never intentionally put you in harms way, but you’d heard his spiel nearly a hundred times. He had tried to leave you numerous times before because of the very fact that he was Spider-man. There would always be villains looking for ways to tear him down, and if they couldn’t do it directly, they’d go for the next best thing. You or his Aunt May.

Apparently they’d chosen you.

Every Time Peter caved into his fears, tried to do what’s best for you by taking his leave, you stopped him. You understood the dangers you could potentially face but ‘what if’s weren’t nearly enough to make you stop wanting to be with him. But it was easy to say things like that back then. You never truly thought you’d end up in a place like this, injured, all alone, isolated. You could be half across the entire country for all your knew. Maybe even on a different planet. Maybe even in a different realm entirely.

The thought of being light years away in the hands of some alien race was enough to finally draw tears to your eyes. You covered your mouth, leaning forward tensely as every bone in your body wailed in protest. In some ways you knew you were being over dramatic. The part of you that willed you to survive tried to soothe your nerves, told you that everything would be okay and if you weren’t rescued by Peter, you’d be rescued by someone else. However there also that one thought that drilled into every fiber of your being- the thought of being out of anyone's reach. Being somewhere else entirely away that no one would even know where to start searching for you.

Growing up with the rise of Heroes as well as villains you’d heard countless stories of survivors, people taken by evil. They were on the news and on articles all over, their faces next to hundreds of words that told of their courage and bravery even in the face of despair. When you were younger you wondered if someday you could be one of the people who would look evil in the eyes, unbreaking, unfaltering.

Yet here you were, and you were not brave. You were crying ugly and afraid, body trembling in both agony and dread. You were praying that someone would find you, take you away from wherever you were so you could go home. All those survivors all sounded the same, all saying that you truly find out who you are in times of great peril, and right now you were discovering the person that you were.

A coward.

There wasn’t a brave bone in your body.

Your thoughts were relentless against you, remembering every moment you’d spent making scenarios in your head about what you would do in a situation like this. In your head you were strong and durable. You were like Peter, with his lionheart and fearless gaze staring directly into the face of of danger, unafraid and ready for anything. All you wanted to do was sit and wait for something bigger than you both in spirit and in body to help you, to rescue you. You wanted Peter to rescue you, it was all you could think about.

Then you heard a soft ding, and something in your front pocket rumbled.

All at once your entire body surged with energy. You sat straight up, dug your fingers into your pocket, and you almost cried when you felt the hard edge of your phone. Pulling it out and clicking on the light you were temporarily blinded by the brightness of your screen, but when you managed to look past the saturation you actually sobbed out a relieved laugh at the texts bombarding your screen. Peter.

8:32 PM: where are you? you left the door unlocked :( you know how dangerous that is

8:36 PM: hellooooo

8:40 PM: ___ ??

8:45 PM: answer me

8:48 PM: please

8:51 PM: ___ this is serious i need to know that you’re okay

There was a gap, then the messages returned 40 minutes later.

9:37 PM: i wont let anything bad happen to you i promise im coming just stay right there dont go anywhere

9:45 PM: i cant get inside we cant get in unless you answer me

9:50 PM: please just tell me you’re okay in there please

Fingers shaking and head reeling, you typed so fast you could barely even make out what you were saying.

10:13 PM: petrr lwheer arw you

As soon as your message sent your phone started vibrating, your ringtone almost making you throw the item 10 feet away. It contrasted the empty silence so intensely. When you clicked answer and held it to your ear you once again almost cried in relief when his voice flooded the speaker.

“___! Oh my god I was so scared I- I thought you suffocated in there, I thought your phone was maybe broken or something I- Jesus ___ I’m so sorry-”

“Save the sorrys for later Parker, what’s her condition?” A voice cut him off in the background, and you recognized it. Tony, he was there too.

“Right, right- ___, can you hear me? Are you hurt? Can you breathe okay?”

The terror in his voice was evident, and even though he was afraid and you were in pain there was a great smile across your lips. If you were on the phone with him then you were still on Earth. You weren’t in the clutches of some alien race, you weren’t realms away from home, you weren’t planets and moons across the galaxy.

“Peter,” you wheezed, and the sheer breath of relief that left him made you shut your eyes in sollace. “I’m okay, I just-... Everything hurts but- I’m okay.”

He sniffled on the other end. “I thought you were dead, I- I’m sorry I didn’t come over earlier I had no idea-”

“It’s okay, wh-.. Where am I?” You tried your best not to cough into your words but it felt like every breath you were breathing in was made of dirt.

On the other end there was a commotion of voices, the sound of Peter in distress, when suddenly he sounded distant. Before you could ask what was going on Tony’s voice was on the other end.

“___? You there, kid?”

“I’m here.”

“Good, stay there. I need to know exactly where you are, can you see anything around you?”

You pulled the device from your ear and clicked speakerphone, turning the flashlight on and finally taking in your surroundings. It was exactly like you imagined it would be- grey, dull with rock walls and flooring. It almost resembled something cave-like.

“Am I in a cave?” Your voice wavered as you spoke.

There was a silence before Tony spoke up again. “Just a little one. It was a miner's cave back in ‘02. Listen kid, you can’t panic, got it? It’s all closed off which means air isn’t coming or going. I know this looks bad and scary but you gotta stay calm.”

It’s all closed off.

You felt a grave dread burrow its way into you.

Air isn’t coming or going.

It suddenly felt like your chest was constricting, your eyes widening at his words and the sight of your flashlight illuminating a pile of rubble in front of what you assumed to be the entrance. “Oh my god,” There wasn’t a shred of light peeking in through the stones and panic started rising in your throat. “Oh my god.”

“No, no, I said don’t panic!” Another commotion sounded and suddenly the phone was taken from him, Peter’s voice reaching you again.

“___ don’t freak out, we’re gonna’ get you out of there,” you couldn’t find it in yourself to reply, your breathing already harshening at the thought of being suffocated in some dank cave full of god knows what. “Listen to me! Breathe in, out, in, out, in, out.”

You tried to follow his instructions, your shaking and uneven breaths rising and falling along with his words. I can’t breathe, you thought in a mindless frenzy. I can’t breathe there isn’t enough air I’m suffocating-

“In, out, in, out,”

“In,” You wheezed, clutching your chest, sucking in a breath of air, “out.” you released it then did it again, and again, and again.

Eventually you found it was working, your lungs starting to allow you to breath in evenly rather than taking in sharp breaths that didn’t seem to feel like enough at all. Over the receiver he could hear the cooling of your anxiety, and he spoke again.

“Good, just relax a little bit. We’ll get you out, okay?” His voice softened towards the end, and if he was only speaking like this to keep you calm than it was definitely working. Your free hand came to rest on the ground in front of you, holding your body up, and when you didn’t answer he repeated himself. “We’re going to get you out, ___.”

“I trust you,” You finally managed, eyes shutting tightly in hopes of trying to block everything out. “What do I do?”

Peter spoke to someone nearby him, presumably Tony before returning back to you. “Alright, I need you to get as far away from the pile as you can. We’re gonna blast it open and get you out of there.”

You nodded as though he could see you and you scooted back against the wall as far as you could, shrugging your head down into your shoulders incase debris reached you on the other end of the cave. It was small in size and even just looking, feeling the walls against you, made your throat start to feel like it was closing up again. Tears pricked your eyes again and you shook your head at your current situation. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You should be at home watching a movie, or walking along Queens’ streets with Peter, or doing anything other than trying to keep from suffocating in a cave.

“Are you away from it?” He asked, and you hiccuped.

“Yes, I’m away from it.”

“Okay,” He pulled the phone away from him. “GO!”

The moment he spoke out there was a great explosion, and the walls around you rumbled with such a force that you almost let out a scream. Dust and pebbles fell from the ceiling, and they bounced along the ground and atop your shaking skin. Another burst shook the cave and even more pieces of the ceiling fell, a hunk of stone crashing only inches from your legs and breaking apart in a million pieces, and the sound of it did make you cry out. Immediately Peter was talking to you again.

“What happened?” He yelled frantically, and you croaked out a reply.

“The ceilings falling-”

“Did it hurt you?!” He shouted distantly again. “Wait, stop! Don’t set off another one!”

“It almost did- Oh god what if it caves in-”

“It won’t, we won’t let that happen, I promise.”

“Peter it’s a cave you can’t control it-”

“__! I’m not gonna let you die here, okay?”

You leaned your head back against the wall and this time the ripping pain barely registered with you. Head swimming, you tried to even your breaths again. Something was happening- you could feel it. All of you wanted to believe Peter’s words of comfort, but you were so scared, so afraid that this would be the end of you. There wasn’t enough words in the world to stop the absolute anguish eating away at you. But, an odd feeling starting taking over. It wasn’t frantic or desperate like you’d been moments ago. Despite the scenario, in knowing there was a grave chance you’d never see light again, you felt almost… Fatigued. Tired. It felt like there was a hole forming in your chest.

You realized with dread what that numbing feeling was. With your cries of fear, your panic attack rendering you momentarily unavailable, you’d used up so much oxygen. So much precious air. The thing that affected you the most, however, was the dawning realization that even with your predicament there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air to make you panic all over again like you should have. You should be freaking out, begging him to hurry up. Instead the fear rippled under your skin, made tears fall down your cheeks in a mellow show of apprehension. Too tired, you thought.

“Peter,” you spoke quietly into the phone. “Are you there?”

“Of course,” He answered equally softly, as though he knew your state. It wouldn’t be hard to guess, you supposed, given your worn out breaths.

“Peter, there isn’t enough air.”

You said it so easily, like it meant nothing. The anesthetic of thin air made you almost too exhausted to keep crying. It wasn’t like you wanted to die- you’d give anything to keep fighting, to be one of those people you used to read of, but you couldn’t feel it. Even speaking suddenly felt like a chore- and you wished you could have kicked your past self for using so much oxygen while freaking out over being out of Peter’s reach. He was only a wall away the whole time. You’d breathed it all in during your break down for nothing.

“We’re almost in, just…” Peter sounded helpless, and you knew the feeling. “Don’t give up on me. We’ll get in there, please, please don’t give up.”

“I’m not going to.” You spoke, and again, it was easy to say. You realized something drastic, however. You weren’t speaking to soothe yourself, but to soothe him instead. Everything in your head felt fuzzy and numb.

Another bomb set off outside the walls of the cave but you didn’t flinch this time, not even when another boulder of stone slammed directly next to your lap. Dust surrounded you, painting over your skin and clothes. It started to feel like you were holding your breath.

You mumbled into the phone, “I love you.”.

“Don’t,” He whispered, strained. “It’s almost open, don’t you dare,” He was frantic now, voice picking up. “___ I mean it, please, you can’t leave me.”

You could imagine him right now. Jaw tense, shoulders squared. He’d look as menacing as Peter Parker could. Tony would be watching him right now, wondering what to do. He’d never been good at support.

If you could cry, you would have. Instead your chest felt heavy, either with sorrow or lack of oxygen, you couldn’t tell. The surreal feeling of floating started to blanket you, and you could actually feel the carbon dioxide filling your lungs at every breath. You wanted to panic. You wanted to claw your way free, rip each bolder out of it’s place and dig yourself out, kiss Peter and tell him you’re safe, but you couldn’t. You were not strong enough.

The phone dropped from your hands and Peter still tried to talk to you over the speakerphone.

Everything around you vibrated again but you barely registered it, your eyes closing on their own accord. Through your numbness your chest started to hurt, your breaths coming more and more frequent. It felt like you were gasping, body desperate for something rich, but it never came, Something in the musty air changed and you felt like you were weightless. This was it.

You could see him.

Basked in white light, his form glowing almost angelically. He was so afraid, moving in slow motion like a dream. You couldn’t find it in yourself to reach out and touch him even after he came closer, dropped to his knees in front of you. Everything was underwater. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t hear him. All the muffled echoes barely reached you. His fingers pressed against your cheek, he made you look at up him.

You blinked once.

Twice.

Three times.

And then you gasped, and every fiber of your being ripped from it’s dream and planted itself back into its place, back within the cave, back within the body of the person now shrouded in light and voices.

You couldn’t see anything anymore through the vibrant shine of white, but you could feel and you could breathe and it ached so badly but you sputtered through every breath and found yourself clinging hard to the figure in front of you. There were so many voices that your head was reeling all over again, confusion settling deep within your still foggy brain, but among them you picked out one in particular.

“I’ve got you,” it spoke, “You’re okay, I told you you’d be okay.”

Every part of you shook, clung onto it, breathed every last bit of air you could take in. Hands gripped at your arms and side and you didn’t fight, just let them hoist you up until you were tucked into someone's arms. You knew these arms.

Suddenly you were so cold, and the air changed so drastically that you coughed and wheezed with every single breath. It felt so fresh, and it was such a stark difference that it reached the very depths of your lungs. There was almost just so much of it- that rich, freezing yet precious air. Your head swam with consciousness, your body felt so heavy and grounded. Everything was happening so fast and there was so much of it but you managed to open your eyes just as you were set down on something much softer than the ground.

A bed, and above you, you could see stars. Thousands of them, twinkling and bright, and even though you felt like your entire body was broken they were soothing. Then you saw Peter. He was looking down at you with such a fearful expression, and he did not look brave. His lionheart had been gutted. His hands trembled when he touched at your cheek, his eyes glistening with tears when you blinked up at him.

“Whats going on?” You whispered.

He laughed. He faced down for a moment, shoulders shuddering, and when he looked back up at you there was everything in his eyes. It was the same expression he had when you told him you loved him for the first time, the same expression when you said you didn’t care what the future had in store for you so long as you and him were together. Grateful, adoring, but afraid. So afraid.

Even through your almost headless state you wondered what would happen after this. Surely he’d insist the danger was too much for you.

“You’re okay,” Peter breathed. “You’re out of there, we’re going to a hospital.”

“We?”

He nodded, wiped his eyes, and grinned. “Well, yeah, we. You were right, we- I’m not gonna’ leave you. I mean if you want to leave me I get it- I- understand- But-”

“Talk about it later,” Someone said, and this time you didn’t have it in you to determine who it was. Peter nodded, swallowed, and then you were moving. The bed you were laying on was hoisted up and put back down into what you recognized as an ambulance, and luckily Peter crawled in too.

You lifted a hand and he took it without hesitation, his calloused hands as soft as they’ve ever been against your skin. A breath of relief escaped you, a breath that you would never take for granted again.

“I love you.” He whispered.

Everything around you felt like it was going to concave. You were irrationally afraid the roof of the ambulance door was going to fall and crush you. Your lungs felt heavy and full at the same time. All the nerves in your body felt shot and burnt out, and the back of your head ached something awful, but none of it was enough to stop you from squeezing his hand and smiling.

Peter’s eyes were full of tears yet again. His shoulders slumped, his head dropped to look down before peering back up at you. He could be such a baby sometimes, you realized. He cried easily, but then again so did you. You were both as human as you could be.

You squeezed his hand again and imagined bad hospital food, get well cards, and Peter staying beyond visiting hours. Your heart longed for it all, the recovering process, the worry, the forgiveness, everything. Though it ached you tugged his hand to your lips, kissed at his shaking knuckles, and shut your eyes.

“I love you too.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spider-man: homecoming #spiderman homecoming #marvel #spiderman x reader #imaginefictionals #scenario #fanfic #imagine #HYUUUU i loved this

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chuckisgod · 8 years ago

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Deals With the Devil (Lin x Reader) Part 2

Pairings: Lin x Reader

Warnings: Angst, lots of it.

Word Count: 3525... This is the longest thing I’ve ever written.

AN: This is it! It’s the end of my Supernatural-based fic. I’m probably going to go cry for hours now. I hope you like it!

Tags: @the-and-peggy @hamiltrashtothemax @plamspringsdancingontables @piercethemarti @fandomsinabookshelf @beautifulfound @hamil-tonn-of-trash @hamlltvn @barnesgasm @superwholockbooknerd526

Part 1

February 22, 2016 (366 days before) Catching a cab three streets up from the warehouse, Lin rode to the hospital, his heart racing a mile a minute. God if what that man, Crowley, had said was true, you’d be alive, but he’d also have a timer on his life. If what Crowley said was true, in precisely a year. He’d be gone.

As they arrived, his heart in his throat, he pictured you awake, hell even you being alive would be good enough for him. Pulling out his wallet he paid the driver and tipped him generously before walking back into the place he had raced out of earlier. “Mr. Miranda!” The lady at the front desk called him over, “We’ve been trying to get in contact with you for the past hour. Something happened. She’s awake and asking for you. Room 372.” The race down the hallway seemed quicker than last time he had completed it, and he realized that it because he knew you were okay, that you and the baby were okay. God, there was a little human he had created that was going to eventually live, and he would only be around to see it for four months. Four months that he would treasure his daughter or son. The door of the hospital room was ajar, and he could hear the humming of various machines. You might be alive, but you were still hurt. It wasn't even your fault. You had the right of way, and so you attempted to cross the street, but a cab had hit a patch of ice and couldn't stop in time before it plowed right into you.

Lin pushed the door open the rest of the way, and suddenly he was by your side. “I can’t believe you're okay,” he whispered, crying into his hands. “Last time I was here I thought you were dead.”

“I’m okay, just a little banged up.” He grabbed your hand, trying to be careful around the IV set in your arm.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked rubbing his thumb on the skin on the back of your hand, his red eyes staring into yours like he was looking for an answer.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The doctor found something interesting in one of your tests that I thought you might already know.” Seeing the confused look in your eye, taking the hand he was holding he gently set it on your lower abdomen.

May 28th, 2016 (270 days before) The vows Lin had written felt like a weight in his pocket as he fumbled with tying his tie. The room he was getting ready in seemed smaller than when he had entered it.

“Woah, Lin. Take it, steady man.” Suddenly Chris’s fingers were at his neck, retying the tie that Lin’s nervous fingers had mangled. “I don’t understand why you’re so nervous. It’s not like you haven’t been planning this for months.”

“I just- What if she doesn’t want to marry me.”

“Are you being serious right now? Because honestly if it’s even possible that girl loves you almost more than you love her.”

In the room you were getting ready in, you didn't have the same doubts. You knew Lin loved you. Lin had been so great with helping to plan the wedding and dealing with you being pregnant that obviously, he did.

And so as you walked out of the room to walk down the aisle, you weren’t worried about Lin being at the end of it; you were terrified of falling on your face. You only stumbled once, but thankfully it was right into the arms of the love of your life and knew that life your life was going to be fine if Lin was in it.

June 12th, 2016 (255 days before) Trying to find a dress for the Tony's while five months pregnant was about as difficult as you would have imagined but knowing you had to be there to support your husband and his act of creation, but you powered through.

You might have been cutting it a little close, but the dress you had decided on with Pippa and Jasmine's help was worth it.

When Lin finally saw you in your dress the night of the awards, he gasped before moving over to you and swinging you around. “Careful,” you warned.

“You look beautiful,”

During the limo ride, Lin must have been nervous, his leg bouncing and his hands balled into fists.

“Hey,” you whispered, pulling one of his hands into both of yours. “Hamilton's nominated sixteen times. If you don't win something, it must have been rigged.”

The limo was pulling onto the road, and suddenly Lin was opening the door into the chaos and pulling you across the seat and into the craziness.

You wished you could avoid the red carpet, but Lin's hand on your arm kept you steady and sure that you would be okay, while he chatted with the press.

You watched later as the ‘little musical’ your husband had written won awards for almost every category it was nominated in. You weren’t surprised when your husband even ended up taking home 2 of the awards for himself.

July 9th, 2016 (228 days before) Lin’s last night as Hamilton started out as most days in the Miranda household do, with Lin waking you up by singing whatever song was stuck in his head. Today it was Helpless, and as soon as he saw that you were up, he pulled you out of bed and swung you around the apartment.

After making a breakfast fit for an entire royal family, you were eating for two, after all, you and Lin took the A-line farther into the city and parted ways close to the Richard Rodgers where you took a turn that led you deeper into the city towards work. “I’ll see you at the show,” Lin whispered, kissing the hand he was holding before letting you go.

Throughout the day as Lin was saying not goodbye but so long for now to some of his coworkers, some of his best friends. He tried to picture himself anywhere other than where he was, and he couldn’t even imagine it.

He felt more energized during the night’s performance almost as though him knowing you were in the crowd watching him made him two hundred times better than the perfect he already was, and when he was making his final bow he sought out your eyes in the crowd.

As you waded through the crowd of people in the lobby of the Richard Rodgers after the show, you made your way backstage. Stopping into the girl’s dressing room, you watched Pippa’s teary goodbye with the girls who played her sisters, and you almost began crying when she turned her attention to you in the doorway.

“There you are!” A breathless Daveed exclaimed almost pulling you out of your embrace with Pippa, “Lin’s been looking for you everywhere, and he was too scared of being mobbed to go out into the lobby.

“Bye Pippa! I’ll see you for pie in a couple of days. Right?” She nodded and let you go. Knocking at the door to his dressing room, you heard a muffled, “Come in,” before you pushed open the door. You almost burst out laughing when you did. Lin was stuck. One of his arms out of the top of his Hamilton costume, but his other arm and his head were hopelessly tangled in the fabric.

“Geez Lin, What am I going to do with you?”

October 12th, 2016 (133 days before) The day his daughter was born, Lin was very busy. He had been writing the intro for a talk show he was appearing in the next week while you slept in the next room. Little did he know that within his next few hours his whole life was going to change or that you would end up breaking his hand in the process.

Aria Grace Miranda was born on a partly cloudy Wednesday in the middle of October kicking and screaming with all ten fingers and all ten toes. But later as friends and family stopped by to see the new little one they would remark on how she was the sweetest, most well-behaved baby they had ever seen, her parents would smile at each other and know that they were possibly never going to get a full night’s sleep ever again. November 2, 2016 (112 days before) Lin walked briskly, his coat flapping in the cold winter’s breeze. Ducking inside the open door of a nearby bookstore he decided to roam through the sections, as usual, when he came to the children’s section, he ran his fingers across the spines, picturing his baby girl hopefully asleep in her crib. He would only ever know her as a baby, but you would be there for everything, her first word when she started walking.

In 10 years, his little princess wouldn’t be able to determine his voice from the next guy’s. Taking out his phone, he grabbed the closest book on the shelf, “Goodnight Moon,” and flipping to the audio recorder, started reading.

After he had done 3 or 4 books, an employee of the bookstore came over and just watched him for a couple of minutes. “Is there a reason why you’re reading children’s books into your phone, sir?”

“I’m-” how was he going to explain that he was reading children’s books into his phone because in a little under four months he’d be dead. “-I’m sick and I only have a few months to live, and I want my daughter to be able to hear my voice reading a bedtime story to her every night for as long as she wants one.”

“We actually have better recording equipment in the back, if you'd like to use it. I could talk to my boss and see if she'd let you.”

Lin ended up recording almost every children's book in the store in the 3 and a half months that he had left, keeping them on DVDs that he kept hidden in a box in the back of the closet that you shared.

When he got home that night though he kissed you on the cheek and set the baby on his lap to watch the Little Mermaid, wishing that he'd have forever, he snuggled closer to your side, hoping for a miracle but knowing it probably wasn't going to come.

December 25th, 2016 (59 days before) When you were little, you remembered waking up as early as you could to open your presents, but as you grew older, it became nicer and nicer to sleep in as late as possible. Usually, you could, Lin was someone who liked his sleep, but this Christmas, Ari had kept you both awake all night with a fever and a cough and since you were already up you decided to do Christmas early before the rest of the world was awake.

For hours it was just you, Lin, and the baby, watching Christmas movies together on the couch while outside the sun began to rise over the George Washington Bridge.

Later when your house was filled with rowdy nephews and both pairs of parents, the opening of the actual presents began while everyone munched on the cookies that were made with loving care by Abuela the night before.

And as everyone sat around the Christmas tree Lin realized that this might be the last time his whole family was together like this before what was probably his death. Lin hugged the nephew sitting on his lap a little tighter, and as everyone was leaving, he made sure to let them know how much he loved them.

December 31st, 2016 (53 days before) The clock ticked steadily closer to midnight on New Year's Eve, and for the first time in years, Lin wasn’t drunk out of his mind. Instead of the loud music and dancing, the tone was decidedly quieter, but the apartment was still filled with some of your closest friends. Lin, Chris, and Tommy were out on the balcony watching the sky for the fireworks that were sure to come later, while you and Chris’s wife were trying to get the baby back to sleep because the noise of the ‘party’ had woken her up. Javi, Anthony, and Lac were just talking in the kitchen with a couple of beers, while “the Schuyler sisters” were playing a card game at the folding table a couple of feet away from you.

When you finally got the baby to sleep you placed her back to sleep in the crib, kissing her forehead before turning off the lights and shutting the door.

“Did you finally get her to sleep?” Lin asked out on the balcony after you walked out to join him. Staring up at the night sky, he tried not to imagine what New Years next year would be like. Last year he had enjoyed making resolutions for what his life would be like in this new year. He would never have imagined it would lead to 2 Tonys and a Grammy and his marriage to you and a baby. This year he just wanted to live longer than the time he was given.

As the time ticked closer to midnight, everyone from inside filtered out onto the balcony. Counting down the seconds, he pulled you closer to him and as the clock struck midnight he pressed a kiss to your lips.

February 20th, 2016 (2 days before) “You haven’t been to your parent’s house in ages, y/n,” Lin spoke, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. ��I’m sure they miss you and the last time they saw Aria was Thanksgiving. She has a tooth now, and she can roll over. When they were here last, she couldn’t really do much.” “What’s brought this on honey? Are you trying to get rid of us.”

“Your mom called me and told me she missed you. She was so used to getting to see you all the time before we got married. Now she says she sees you maybe once a month.” He smiled at you before leading you over to the couch and taking your hands in his. “I won’t mind if you go, you know. I know you miss her too. Plus Chris and I were going to have a guy’s night out, so you wouldn’t be missing anything.” In Lin’s mind, he was torn between begging you not to go, because he didn’t want to die alone, and hoping that you would leave because he didn’t think he could live with the fact that you would watch him die.

Picking up the baby off the floor where she was lying on her back, he smiled at her as she reached over and tried to grab a handful of your hair. “Hi Ari,” you cooed at her.

“What if we leave tomorrow, early, and then maybe Ari and I will stay there for another day or two so that you and Chris can have that man day you’ve been talking about lately.”

Lin gave a sad smile, that ‘man day,’ you were talking about would probably just be him and Chris eating dinner and him trying to let Chris know how much he thought of him as a brother.

That night Lin held you as you slept, trying not to think of it as being the last time he would see you sleeping. One of the last times he would see you ever.

February 21st, 2016 (1 day before) Lin may have been the one who was trying to send away his wife and infant daughter away before what may as well be his death, but that doesn’t mean saying goodbye to them didn’t hurt. It was so very painful.

Your bags were packed and in front of the door before Lin had gotten out of bed in the morning, which wasn’t surprising. Lin hadn’t been sleeping very well as the months got closer to the end of his deal.

Before you left, he made sure to kiss both of you, you on the lips, Ari on the forehead, and told you exactly how much he loved you. “More than from here to the end of the universe and back.”

The rest of the day Lin spent getting his affairs in order. He took the box of DVDS that he'd hidden in the back of the closet and placed them on the dining room table along with his will and a note that as Lin had written, he’d burst into tears.

Y/N, I feel like knowing this was going to happen beforehand should have prepared me for the thought of never seeing you again. After all, I did this for you and Ari without this the both of you would have been in a grave and I just couldn’t live with that. My heart doesn't want to believe it's true, but no matter what my heart believes, know that I love you with every fiber of my being and that as my time grows closer that it's the only thing keeping me from falling apart. I love you from the end of the universe and back. Lin

Lin tried as hard as he could to be the person who no matter the circumstance was always smiling, but eating lunch with his best friend hours before was something that he couldn’t quite shake.

Chris noticed that Lin was acting strange around halfway through lunch and started watching him, making mental notes on how he was acting to talk to you about later. Something was wrong with Lin and although it was probably due to what happened to you last year he needed to know what was wrong with him so the both of you could fix it. Lin telling him that he loved him like a brother as they were leaving the restaurant made alarm bells go off in his brain but by the time he had processed what he’d said Lin was too far away to go after.

As the day went on Lin grew more and more fidgety, and if someone on the street had happened to bump into him, he probably would have snapped.

He found himself in Central Perk in the minutes before midnight, the howls of dogs close by. Taking out his phone as the sound moved closer, he called you, but it went straight to voicemail. “I love you and Ari more than anything in this life. Please. Please don’t do anything stupid.”

As the clock ticked over to midnight, the howls increased all of a sudden and then there was the pain. So much more than he would’ve imagined before and then he felt nothing.

February 22nd, 2016 You got the call telling you something had happened at 3 in the morning, and before you knew it you were on the way to the hospital though when you arrived and spotted Chris you knew something had happened.

"No." you whispered, hanging onto Chris because at this point he was the only thing keeping you upright.

"What happened?" you heard Chris ask as you dissolved into sobs.

"It looks to be some sort of animal attack, certainly something we've never seen before this far into the city."

Of course, it would be Lin's luck that the week you were visiting your parents would be the week that there'd be a pack of wild animals roaming the city.

As the minutes passed the tightness in your chest refused to let up. It would probably never let up. For the rest of your life, you'd be dealing with the grief of your husband dying.

Your mother called a couple of minutes later having heard you rush out the door in a frenzy after you had gotten the call. You couldn't talk to her, so Chris took over. He guided you to a chair and then explained what had happened to your parents trying to stop himself from crying in the process. When he was done, he took you home, neither of you noticing the box or papers on the dining room table.

Curling up in bed with one of Lin's shirts you cried until you fell asleep and then cried some more, barely eating.

February 27th, 2016 (5 days after) It had been almost a week since what had happened to Lin, and it was as if a fog had descended on your life and your daughter was the only thing that let you breathe. Even at four months her smile and personality was so much like her fathers, and you knew that eventually the two of you would heal together.

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