Tumgik
#but my dad is a m*th head so it’s too ironic if I get prescription m*th
sunfyresrider · 1 year
Text
Me: There’s not enough Aegon fics
Me: if I want something then I have to write it myself. I will single-handedly fill the Aegon fic tag with content.
Me: *stares at my screen for two hours producing only one paragraph before getting distracted by a noise and forgetting what I was doing*
Also me: *starts two new wips because my memory is so bad I forgot about the first*
Tumblr media Tumblr media
55 notes · View notes
erin-bo-berin · 4 years
Text
Double The Surprise
MASTERLIST
Prequel to Thing 1 and Thing 2
Surprise! A new fic, two days in a row? I know, who am I? This was an anon request to do a gender reveal party of the twins from Thing 1 and Thing 2, so I made it sort of a prequel. I’ve linked the fic in case you haven’t read it. One thing to note, I included Diana, but in a more normal state so no Alzheimer's or schizophrenia. I’ve wanted to write something where she was free of any illnesses, so I added her in this like that. Besides, she’d DEFINITELY be there. Also, take a shot every time I say pink and blue, lord I was getting tired of saying that myself so sorry about that. Enjoy some Spencer and the team cuteness. Happy reading!
Spencer Reid/Reader
Rating: G (fluff)
Word Count: 3,285
Tumblr media
You knew it was a mistake to let Penelope be in charge.
Not that she was bad at it at all, in fact she was wonderful. But when she had a secret that she actually wanted to keep a surprise, her lips were sealed tighter than your old jeans.
Penelope Garcia—the technical analyst at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit and your husband, Spencer Reid’s teammate, coworker and friend—was the best at planning parties. Which is how she had gotten you and Spencer excited about the idea of a potential gender reveal party for the baby you and Spencer were expecting this fall.
You were currently 21 weeks and a bit larger than normal, although your doctor wasn’t worried. She had explained it could be due to the baby being bigger—your husband was over 6 feet after all—or perhaps you were a bit further along in your pregnancy than she first thought. Either way, at the last appointment, she had assured you that everything was looking fine.
The last appointment was also when you were able to find out the sex of the baby. 
Since you and Spencer really wanted to have a gender reveal party with your friends and the other team members of the BAU, you had invited Garcia to come along to the appointment. She would be informed of the sex and also have the results handed to her in a manila envelope, for the baker who would create the cake.
You were regretting your decision though because you were currently dying to know what baby Reid would be. It was amazing though, Garcia hadn’t even breathed the hint of a clue.
She was the worst person to keep a secret, so it was ironic when she refused to give into your pleading.
The gender reveal party was going to be this upcoming weekend, still a few days away and you were struggling with the anticipation.
The party details and planning helped curb your desire to know, though.
When Garcia had first suggested the idea, not long after you and Spencer announced your pregnancy, you were slightly hesitant about it. You didn’t know much about them or if anyone would even come. With the help of Penelope and her promise to take care of everything, you started coming around to the idea.
She was an excellent party planner because even though she took care of everything, she left plenty of room for you and Spencer to decide on details and things you wanted. Many nights were spent laying in bed, the two of you looking at gender reveal party ideas on Pinterest.
You actually thought Spencer was more excited for this party then you were. It was nice to know he was just as excited for it, though.
“Do you think she’d cave and tell us what we’re having if we surprise her with a red velvet cupcake?” you’d asked Spencer, one night that week.
“It’d probably be tempting for her, but I doubt it,” he answered you, “In fact, I’m surprised she’s kept quiet this long. She’s the worst at keeping secrets.”
“I know. I had her pegged to tell us within a day,” you huffed.
Spencer chuckled, kissing your head.
“Just think, it will be worth the wait when we find out what we’re having on Saturday.”
Surprisingly, Saturday did come rather fast. Although at the same time, it felt like eons to you. 
You were bursting with excitement for the party, which was to be held at David Rossi’s house.
Garcia had given you and Spencer strict instructions to not arrive until after 2 pm. She, with the help of her boyfriend Luke Alvez we’re going to be setting up everything for the party to keep the final display a surprise as well.
You were just as eager to wear the new outfit that Garcia had bought for you to wear—she really had thought of everything.
You had to admit, the ensemble was pretty cute.
You’d dressed in the sleeveless maxi dress that was designed in an alternating pink and blue chevron style and white flats that were partially hidden by the long skirt of the dress. Your bump was fully on display in the outfit, but it just made the dress seem even cuter.
It also helped that it was extremely comfy as well.
The finishing touch for the outfit was a flower crown. Yes, a flower crown. Garcia went all out when she did things, that’s for sure. 
It was a thin band of flowers that sat nicely on your head. One side was decorated with pink flowers while the other half had blue. With the entire outfit complete, you had to admit, Garcia definitely had picked a cute ensemble.
Spencer had come in just as you’d finished getting ready and whistled, making you blush.
“Why if it isn’t the sexiest baby mama around,” he grinned slyly, wrapping his arms around you from behind, “You look beautiful, Y/N.”
“You look rather charming yourself,” you chuckled.
His appearance wasn’t that much different than it was from his work attire. His suit pants and dress shirt were the same as usual, but Garcia had gotten him a pink and blue chevron tie to match your dress.
“Not exactly something I’d wear every day, but I like it,” he smiled, “Ready to find out what our baby is?”
“More than ever.”
The first thing you saw when entering Rossi’s backyard was a sign on the iron gate door to his backyard. 
There were a handful of pink and blue cardboard, cutout circles hanging on the gate door, along with a pink and blue cutout onesie that said We’re here for the sex. It made you laugh. This definitely had Garcia written all over it.
“I’m sure Rossi is thrilled with that hanging on his gate door,” Spencer laughed.
He took your hand and pushed the gate open into a pink and blue wonderland. 
You gasped as the two of you walked further into the backyard. Not only was the actual decorations and set up amazing, but the turnout was just as shocking.
The entire team was there; Emily Prentiss, Matt Simmons, his wife Kristy and all five kids—you’d specifically told Penelope that all the BAU kids were welcomed, you had a special place in your heart for them, just as she did.
JJ was there with her husband Will and her two boys Henry and Michael. Tara Lewis was there as well, always ready for a get together. Of course David Rossi was there as well with his third wife Krystall that he’d recently married again.
Luke and Penelope were of course in attendance, but what surprised you most was seeing the unexpected and surprise guests that Garcia had most definitely arranged to show up.
Former Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner was there with Jack, who was now taller than you. They both greeted you with a hug and their congratulations. Jack said he was mostly excited for cake and you couldn’t argue with that.
Derek Morgan, wife Savannah and little Hank Spencer Morgan had made it too. These kids were growing faster than you would like because now little Hank was 4 quickly approaching 5.
“Pretty boy!” Morgan greeted, hugging Spencer tightly, “It’s about time you became a father.”
You greeted Savannah and Hank, who was in his mother’s arms, suddenly a lot shyer than normal. After speaking to them both for a minute, they too went back to socializing with the others.
What was most surprising was seeing your parents and Spencer’s mom, Diana Reid.
“Mom! Dad!” you exclaimed, hugging them.
“Mom!” Spencer said, hugging Diana, “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“You think I was going to miss my grandbaby’s first party? I think not,” she grinned.
After greeting your parents, you hugged Diana yourself.
“It’s so good to see you Mrs. Reid,” you kissed her cheek.
It had been a little bit since you’d last traveled to Las Vegas with Spencer to visit her, not long after you’d married. Before that, you’d seen her at the wedding.
“Oh honey, you know I told you to call me Diana,” she beamed, “You’re the Mrs. Reid around here. How are you feeling?”
She rubbed a hand across your belly and you smiled.
“Feeling rather large, if I do say so myself,” you chuckled.
“Well there’s a good reason for that,” she winked, making your brows furrow in confusion.
Garcia was just on her way over to the three of you as Diana spoke and suddenly, she sped up, rushing over.
“Diana! How about I get you some punch and refreshments!” Garcia exclaimed, leading Diana away.
She turned to you and Spencer as she led his mother away.
“Take some time and look around before we do the reveal!” Garcia hollered.
“Come on, I wanna check things out,” you told Spencer.
You were beaming so big that he couldn’t help but chuckle and indulge you. He was pretty curious to check out everything too.
First off, there were pink and blue balloons everywhere. 
At the table where the food and refreshments were at, were gold letter balloons that spelled out the phrase Oh baby. 
The actual food spread was rather impressive too. There were finger sandwiches of chicken salad, turkey and ham, mixed nuts, vegetable plates with dip and of course, much to your delight was Alvez’s homemade salsa and guacamole, along with chips to dip. You’d be eating good this afternoon, that’s for sure.
The sweets were all gender themed, which was an adorable touch.
There were blue and pink chocolate covered strawberries, blue and pink cake pops—a mustache on the blue cake pop sticks and a bow on the pink ones—and hilariously enough, there were M&Ms in two bowls. One with peanuts were labeled Nuts and the other with plain was labeled No Nuts, hence the mystery of the baby’s sex.
“That’s ingenious,” Spencer commented, laughing, grabbing a handful of some.
There were blue plates with matching napkins and pink plates with pink napkins, along with alternating blue and pink jars that held the opposing color of plastic ware in them. 
At the very end of the refreshments table sat two huge glass jugs with spigots filled with blue and pink drinks. The blue was named Bouncing Blue Punch whereas the pink was Sweet Pink Lemonade.
“Wow, Luke and Penelope really went all out,” you gaped, amazed.
“And you haven’t even seen the best parts,” Garcia said, seemingly appearing out of thin air next to you, “Come on!”
She tugged on your arm excitedly, dragging you to another section of the party. You laughed, trying to keep up with her, looking behind you at a grinning Spencer who was following behind the two of you.
The first thing she had to show you, made you tear up thanks to the damn pregnancy hormones.
It was a canvas of animals in a little hot air balloon and the “balloons” were made up of thumbprints from all the guests, in the color of their guess of the baby’s gender. Even the kids had all done one.
There were a variety of pink and blue thumbprints, each one signed by the person. At the bottom of the canvas it read: Oh the places you’ll go.
“We all made our guesses and I put this together a week ago so it would be dry and ready to display for today,” Garcia beamed.
“I love it,” you said, your hand covering your mouth, still shocked at how beautiful it was, “Spence, this is going up in the nursery for sure.”
“Definitely,” he nodded, looking at it himself.
“This is amazing. Thank you, Garcia,” you breathed.
“Oh honey, we’re just getting started on the tour. Come on, there’s more to see.”
The next display was another interactive guessing game.
This was a chalkboard that read Twinkle, Twinkle, little star. How we wonder what you are!
One side of the board represented the boy votes and the other represented the girl votes.
“This is where everyone was able to vote as they came in with their guess,” she said.
You looked closer. So far a girl was winning by two.
“I also included two more interactive little games,” Garcia said, leading you to two more chalkboards.
One had Guess The Date written on it and the entire month of September written out. Your due date was approximately September 25th, which was listed at the top and sticky notes covered the dates of different attendee’s guesses on when the baby would arrive.
“Oh that is super cute,” you laughed.
Your eyes scanned over the numerous guesses.
Some had guessed as early as September 6th and others had guessed as late as September 30th.
“Pinterest, I’m telling you,” Garcia quipped.
The next board had a list of girls and boys names. Underneath the board and easel on each side was a basket, in the matching colors, slips of paper inside.
“This here is where the guests have tried to guess what your number one name for a boy and a girl is,” Garcia explained.
“So that explains why you asked for our top name for a boy and a girl,” Spencer mused.
“Yup.”
You looked at each column. There were a total of five names on each side.
The boys’ column included:
Carl
Aidan
Luke
Alexander
Matthew
The girls’ column included:
Daisy
Abrielle
Gabriella
Penelope
Paige
“Penelope? Luke?” you chuckled.
“Hey, for all they know you could be naming a kid after us!” she protested.
You smiled, seeing yours and Spencer’s top two picks on the lists—Abrielle for a girl or Alexander for a boy.
“Last but not least,” Garcia beamed, “You gotta see the cake. It’s amazing.”
The three of you walked to a table in the middle of the party where there were two chairs and a cake resting on the table.
“Obviously since it’s baby Reid, you two will be the center of attention,” Penelope said.
On the table was a beautiful cake decorated with blue and pink icing roses. One side was strictly pink roses and the other blue. The finishing touch was the various sized edible pearls that had been delicately placed in the center of each flower.
You audibly gasped.
“Penelope, it’s gorgeous!”
“Isn’t it though? I was in awe when I picked it up,” she commented.
“So the inside will be the reveal, right?” Spencer asked.
“Yes sir,” she smiled, “You guys ready to find out the gender?”
“Yes, please!”
You were practically bouncing on your heels like a child eagerly awaiting candy.
“First, I wanted to give you guys a little gift,” Garcia said, rushing over to the table where Luke sat, holding a gift bag.
“Garcia, you know we said no gifts!” you protested.
“Yeah, I know. But you know me,” she scurried back over, handing you the bag, “I can’t keep huge secrets.”
“What are you talking about?” you laughed, opening the bag.
Inside was a simple, cute, white baby onesie.
On the front, it said We’re having a baby! with the word baby scratched out.
“Why’s the word baby crossed out?” Spencer asked, peering over your shoulder at it.
He seemed to be just as puzzled as you were.
“Wait, there’s something else in the bag,” you observed, reaching in to pull out the second object.
It was a second white onesie that read Make that TWO babies!
“I couldn’t keep such a big secret obviously, so I told the entire team and they wanted to chip in on a present to announce it to you—this isn't all the gift though.”
You were stunned beyond belief and absolutely overjoyed.
“Twins?! Spence, did you hear that? We’re having twins!”
You turned to see your husband as white as a ghost, starting to sway.
“I-I-I think I need to sit for a moment,” he stammered, falling into the nearby metal folding chair.
“Spence, you okay?” 
You rushed to his side—as fast as your pregnant body would let you, that.
“Yeah, fine,” he muttered, still looking dazed, “Everything just started spinning there for a moment.”
Garcia was by his side with an unused paper plate, fanning him, just in case he was actually going to pass out.
The rest of the party’s eyes were on the spectacle, all of them clearly amused.
“Who knew the kid could create twins! Even his sperm is brilliant,” Derek hollered.
Everyone laughed at that and the fact that Savannah immediately stuck a sandwich in his mouth to quiet him.
“There are kids here, Derek!” she whispered loudly.
“Twins, huh?” Spencer asked.
The poor thing looked dumbstruck. 
“You sure you’re okay Spencer?” you asked, worried.
It’s like it took him a moment for it to finally sink in because he turned to you, a big grin on his face.
“Y/N, we’re having twins!”
He grabbed your face, kissing you, not caring about all the onlookers. You turned scarlet when he pulled away, a tad bit embarrassed that everyone was watching, but you were just as happy as him, so you couldn’t complain.
“My baby boy is going to have twins,” Diana smiled, coming over to wrap her son in a hug, “I was so excited when I heard that I almost ruined the surprise earlier!”
“Oh so that’s what you meant?” you asked, laughing.
That was definitely a good reason for you to be larger than normal. Your body was home to not one but two babies for the next little while.
“You knew, mom?” Spencer asked.
“Oh of course, Penelope called everyone,” Diana answered.
“You know I can’t keep a secret!” Garcia exclaimed, “This was my biggest one yet! It was the only way I could make it without bursting.”
“Speaking of everyone else,” JJ said, bringing up another, slightly larger gift bag, “This is from all of us, Hotch and Morgan included.”
“You wanna open it?” you asked Spencer.
He shook his head, indicating you could, so you did.
You pulled out a long, wood, plaque that read:
Our family is growing by
4 feet
and
2 hearts 
At the bottom, there was an engraving.
Reid Twins
It was absolutely perfect.
There were definitely tears on your end as you made your rounds hugging everyone and saying your thank yous.
You made your way back to the center table to Garcia, who you gave another huge hug.
“Thank you so much for putting together such an amazing party,” you said.
“It was my pleasure,” she smiled.
“Cut the cake already!” Both Jack and Henry hollered simultaneously, making everyone chuckle.
“I can’t argue with that, now can I?” you responded.
You managed to pull Spencer away from the conversation he was having with some of the guests and you both put your hands on the knife, cutting through the cake. It reminded you of your wedding reception, but this was ten times more exciting; you were expanding your family with the man you were in love with.
The entire backyard counted down.
“THREE!”
You looked over at Spencer, a big smile on your face. At this point, you didn’t think much more could surprise you than the news of having twins.
“TWO!”
He winked at you, silently reassuring you that no matter what the result, you two would raise these babies as a team.
“ONE!”
You both lifted up the slice, revealing a two layer cake; one layer was pink and one was blue.
“It’s a boy and a girl!” Spencer cheered.
You were pretty sure this day couldn’t get any better. 
You and Spencer would soon be welcoming fraternal twins; Abrielle Jade Reid and Spencer Alexander Reid. 
Little Abbie and Alex were going to be incredibly loved.
TAG LIST: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @fuckthealarm​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @queenofmischief​ @tinyminy88​ @sundippedprincess​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @multifandommandy​ @teamkiall​ @redbullchick​ @ifeelloved​ @one-sweet-gubler​ @nanocoool​ @delightfullyspeedyearthquake​ @unsteadyimagines​ @ughitsbaby​ @inkwiet​ @pennythetechgoddess​ @capt-engr-ssa​ @sixx-sic-sixx​ @spencersdolore​ @reidsstudies​ @disney-dreams-world​ @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore​ @andiebeaword​ @cupcake525​ @be-the-bravest​ @gretaamyk​ @likelovers @hopebaker​ @prisonreid​ @httpnxtt​ @daviddoughboy​ @pastathighs​ @marvels-gurl​ @blushingspencer​ @pretty-boy-gubler​ @victorzsaszmydaddy​ @inlovewithamess​ @im-inlovewith-mycar​
293 notes · View notes
prisonrose · 5 years
Text
{ Post Tenebras Lux }
Panicked footsteps echoed through the lonely mine as the boy dashed about in aimless circles. His heart was nearly thundering out of his chest as he stopped for a moment, panting. “Hello?” he cried as loudly as he could. “IS ANYONE THERE?!”
Nothing. “Mum? Dad?!”
The echoes of his frightened voice almost sounded as if it was taunting him. Blinking back his tears, he dashed off in the direction he hoped would get him out of here and once again wracked his brain for answers to his current predicament. 
All he had to do was retrace his steps, right? That’s what mom had always told him! Let’s see… He’d been with his mom and dad, taking a tour through the Macro Cosmos factory on the outskirts of Motostoke. The Chairman himself was there to greet them, and that had been so exciting! He started showing them all the different machines and explaining what they did, though, which wasn’t quite as exciting, so the boy’s mind began to wander. And then…
The boy stopped dead in his tracks, clutching at his hair in frustration as he looked around. He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten split off from the group. Something had caught his attention momentarily, though he couldn’t remember what it was. He didn’t really think he’d gone that far, but when he turned around to go back to the factory, he didn’t even know which way he had come from. 
He’d gone into this mine, hoping it was the way back to Motostoke, where at least there would be other people he could ask for help. Instead, he’d ended up wandering around aimlessly in this dark, Pokemon infested hole without a Pokemon of his own to defend him, and he was lost, and he wanted his mom and his dad and to be back at Postwick and safe!
He slumped to the ground covering his face with his hands and sobbing noisily, then pressed his small body into a secluded corner as he shivered with fear. What if no one found him this time? What if he was going to be lost forever?
“MUM! DAD!” he screamed in desperation. “SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!!!”
“... Leon?” a distant voice called. 
He froze, holding his breath with shock. “... Hello?” he called again, shakily climbing to his feet. “Is… Is someone there?!”
“Leon! Oh, thank the heavens that I found you!” The voice sounded relieved. “Stay put! Help is on the way!”
The boy spotted a shadow moving out of the corner of his eye. “No, wait! I-I think I see you! I’m on my way there!”
“Leon?! No, no, stay where you are! Don’t move!”
Too late. He’d taken off after the shadowy figure, sniffling and trying to wipe his face free of tears. In just a few minutes, he’d back home and this would all just be a memory! He’d be safe and warm and happy, and--
And that was not not a person.
He screeched to a halt so quickly that he nearly fell over, eyes wide with fear and panic. The Pokemon in front of him made a quick hairpin turn to face him, growling softly. Leon froze in place, feeling as if he couldn’t even breathe. Even when he saw its mouth glow as it prepared to attack him, he felt like his feet were rooted in place. Why… Why couldn’t he move? Why couldn’t he run? It was as if his body had been turned to stone! It wouldn’t listen to him!
As the blistering heat built up in the Carkoal’s body, Leon slowly looked down so that his brim blocked out the sight of it and he wouldn’t have to see his gruesome demise coming. He sniffled, feeling another tear roll down his face as he waited patiently for the enraged Pokemon to end it. But then he heard frantic footsteps coming from behind him.
The Chairman yanked one of his Ultra Balls off of his belt, and tossed it out in front of him, rushing in front of the boy. “Cerys! Defend us!” he cried throwing out his hand to shield the boy from any incoming damage.
Just as the Carkoal shot a powerful volley of flame at the two of them, the Chairman’s Copperajah burst out of its ball. Rose briefly had to shield his eyes from all of the dust his Pokemon had kicked up, but thankfully his Copperajah had managed to soak up all of the damage from the attack, leaving them both unharmed. Leon blinked, his cap plopping quietly on the ground. He looked up at the massive Pokemon standing in front of him with awe. Then he turned his eyes to the Chairman standing resolutely in front of him.
Rose just ran his fingers through his hair, thankful that no one had gotten hurt other than the small amount of damage Cerys had taken from a Pokemon much weaker than her. He could have ended the battle with an Iron Head or a High Horsepower then and there, but it seemed a little excessive. The poor thing had just been startled, after all.
“Here,” he called out to the wild Pokemon, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a toy with a bell attached to the end that Olga enjoyed playing with every now and then. He’d have to get her a new one sometime soon. “Go fetch.”
The Carkoal’s eyes went wide as Rose flung the jingling toy further down the long corridor. It let out a soft noise in delight, chasing after it as quickly as its wheels could take it. Rose sighed, stroking his Copperajah’s haunches. “How are you, girl?” he asked softly, looking over where the move struck her.
She rumbled quietly, turning so that she could gently wrap her powerful trunk around his waist and pull him in for a cuddle. 
Rose laughed softly, patting her trunk reassuringly. “It’s alright, darling, we’re both unharmed. There, there…” She really was quite protective and motherly towards him. He patted her one last time and went to address the young boy still looking up at him, completely awestruck. His face was a mess, smudged with dirt and awash with tears, so Rose took out his handkerchief and got down on one knee to wipe all the grime away. 
“You had us all very worried,” he hummed quietly. “I’m so glad to know that you’re alright…”
“I… I’m sorry…” Leon sniffled. “I didn’t mean to be a bother… I didn’t mean to wander off! Mum says there’s… something wrong with me. I get lost really easily, and it drives her mad. ”
“I’m sure that’s very frustrating,” Rose murmured, tucking his handkerchief back into his pocket once most of the muck was wiped away. “And very scary, too. But just because you’re made differently, it doesn’t mean that you have to let your disability define you. I happen to think you show quite a bit of promise as a potential trainer.”
Leon’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “M-Me?!” he cried incredulously. “You have to be joking! I don’t even know how I got here, and if you hadn’t saved me from that monster, I would have been burned to a crisp!”
“I promise I’m being quite sincere,” Rose replied, rising back to his feet and brushing the dirt from his fancy trousers. “Look where you are, Leon. You came here all by yourself. Through the tall grass of Route 3, and down into the very depths of this place. No adults… Not even a companion Pokemon by your side. The only time you landed yourself in any trouble is when you ran into that Carkoal in a rush, seeking me out. That suggests that you have very shrewd judgement, a natural affinity for befriending Pokemon, and a knack for getting yourself out of sticky situations. I happen to think those are all very admirable qualities.”
Leon looked up at him with wide eyes. “You… You really think so? Most of the kids call me dense, and most adults just think I’m just pretending to get lost, but… But I’m really not! I really try!”
Rose fondly ruffled the kid’s short, purple hair. “I’m certain that you do. You just need some help compensating for the qualities that you lack, but the same can be said for everyone else. Why, I bet that with the right partner by your side, the possibilities for you could be endless.”
The Copperajah lumbered over and nuzzled Leon gently with her trunk, almost cooing softly. Rose laughed, patting her. “See? Even Cerys agrees! You’ve got a bright future ahead of you, Mr. Leon.”
Leon blushed slightly, reaching down to pick up his cap off of the ground and pulling the brim of it down over his eyes with embarrassment. “Th… Thank you, sir. That’s very kind of you to say.”
Rose smiled at him, and patted his shoulder. “You’re welcome… Now! How would you feel about getting to ride old Cerys out of here?”
“REALLY?!” Leon shouted with excitement. “You really mean it?!” 
“Of course I do,” Rose laughed, helping the boy step onto her trunk so that she could lift him onto her back. “Let’s go put your poor mother and father’s hearts at ease. Come, Cerys, this way!”
-- A few days later --
“Lee!” his mother shouted from downstairs.
Leon blinked, pausing his game of Tetris, and looking up from his screen. “Yeah, Mum? What is it?” he called.
“Did you order something off the telly without telling us about it?”
“No???” he called back.
“Well, there’s a package here from Macro Cosmos here with your name on it!”
His eyes widened as he tossed his controller aside and raced downstairs as fast as his legs could take him. “Lemme see, lemme see, lemme see!!!” he squealed.
“Hold on,” she chastised, using a kitchen knife to open it. “... What on earth?” 
Inside, there was a portable incubator with detailed instructions and in egg inside. It also came with an ultra ball housed inside of the incubator and a trainer starter kit of Pokeballs, potions, various status healing tonics, and a blank League Card for Leon to one day print his photo on. There was also a letter on it, autographed by Chairman Rose himself.
Leon,
Sorry it took me so long to reach out to you. When your mother told me your favorite Pokemon, I knew I had quite a project on my hands! So I got in contact with some breeder friends, and we managed to get you your very own Charmander egg! Congratulations! We even managed to imbue it with a prototype technology that we’re coming out with in the next few years. 
This particular breed comes from a long, proud line that has rescued people in mountainous areas during blizzards and avalanches for centuries. Its excellent sense of direction will ensure that no matter where you are, as long as you have your partner by your side, you’ll be able to find your way back. I’m sure it will be a very loyal and helpful friend.
I know that you still have a few more years before you’re eligible to begin your Gym Challenge proper, but it’s never too early to begin your journey as a Pokemon Trainer. The other sheet of paper that’s attached is my official endorsement for you once you have your tenth birthday. Good luck, and I’m rooting for you.
Chairman Dhimani Rose Macro Cosmos Corp. CEO
15 notes · View notes
xxx-cat-xxx · 5 years
Text
Settle our bones (like wood) over time, over time
Tony is down with the flu, so Rhodey helps out by looking after Morgan (and her dad).
Seems like Endgame has turned me into a fluff writer. This is probably one of the softest things I’ve ever written. Contains fever dreams, vomiting, some angst and light spoilers, but nothing too grave.
A million thanks to @whumphoarder for putting so much work into beta-reading.
Rhodey has just finished showering and is fixing himself a sandwich when his custom-made StarkPhone starts blaring the unmistakable melody of Black Sabbath’s Iron Man (The phone was a belated gift from Tony for his last birthday -  subtlety has never been his best friend’s strength).
“Hey man,” he greets.
“Rhodes?” Tony asks, sounding slightly off.
“Yes, it’s me. You should know this, seeing as you called.” A bit of worry starts gnawing in Rhodey’s gut.
“Listen...I might need your help here.”
Rhodey sighs internally. This is the same sentence he heard a year ago, when Tony’s bots managed to blow up a pyramid of paint buckets in the nursery and both of them spent the next seven consecutive hours hurrying to clean up the mess before Pepper came home. Rhodey’s just returned from a rather arduous week with Nat in Morocco and was looking forward to an afternoon spent entirely with himself, his food, and his TV remote.
“Sure,” he replies, trying his best not to sound entirely unmotivated. “What’s the mission?”
“Just, Morgan,” Tony says. “I, I guess I caught a flu bug, and I can’t - Pepper’s in L.A., and I can’t even open these stupid baby food jars without puking. Pep will kill me if I have Dum-E feed the kid.”
He breaks off and Rhodey hears a muffled cough from the other side.
“I know you just got back, but-” There’s a clatter, a muttered curse, and then the sound of a baby crying in the background. “I’m sorry, dude,” Tony continues in a hoarse voice.
Rhodey frowns. If Tony is calling him for help - hell, if he is actually apologising - things must be pretty desperate.
“On my way,” he confirms, getting up with a groan but already feeling his own fatigue fading into the background. “Be there in ten.”
*
The cabin sits at the lake, calm as ever. Rhodey smiles a little to himself when he thinks that his Tony, the former party king of New York, has chosen a lonely place in the woods as the site for his retirement. The front door opens automatically as soon as the hidden scanner has examined his face, and Rhodey steps into the warm interior.
“Welcome, Colonel Rhodes”, Friday’s voice greets him.
“Hey, Fri. Where’s Tony?”
“Boss is upstairs in the nursery.”
“Thanks.”
Giving Morgan the bedroom under the roof was probably one of Tony’s more selfless deeds (well, apart from saving the universe multiple times), considering the breathtaking amount of stars that are visible through the window directly from her bed.
On the other hand, Tony is understandably not very fond of stars anymore.
Rhodey makes his way upstairs, avoiding the building bricks littering the steps as well as the heap of washing on the first floor landing that needs to be ironed.
Tony is sitting on the floor in Morgan’s room, leaning heavily against the bed frame, the eight-month-old baby on a blanket next to him. She’s not exactly crying, but the noises she’s making definitely express discontent. Tony is trying to capture her attention with a screwdriver that he circles above her face, but he seems barely able to keep his own head up. There’s an unopened baby food jar and a spoon on the bedside table next to him.
“You look like crap,” Rhodey assesses. “What’s your temperature at?”
“I called you to babysit Morgan, not me,” Tony rebuts hoarsely. “If you’re fussing, I’ll ship your ass straight back home.”
“Sure you will.” Rhodey bends down to stroke the girl’s hair, noticing that she is swaddled up in multiple blankets like a baby-burrito.
“Is the little hobbit sick, too?”
“What?” Tony’s head shoots up. “No, I hope not.”
“Then why’s she wrapped up like this?”
“‘t was freezing this morning...Her skin felt cold…”
Rhodey frowns and checks the kid’s temperature. If anything, she’s a little overheated and clearly uncomfortable in too many layers. “That was probably the fever messing with you.”
“Oh.” Tony shifts uncomfortably. He is entirely too pale, with a hint of green on his face.
“When is Pepper coming back?” Rhodey inquires as he unwraps the blankets around the unhappy baby.
“’s Wednesday today, right?”
“Thursday,” Rhodey corrects.
“Ah,” Tony rubs his hand over his eyebrows in an exhausted gesture. He looks about ready to keel over. “Tonight, then. Probably late. You can, you can stay over in the guest room if you want to…”
“I know, Tony, don’t worry about it,” Rhodey reassures. “I’m gonna feed her now. You should move to your own bedroom, try and get some rest.”
“Yeah,” Tony nods, glancing at his feet for a moment as if not sure whether they will carry his weight. “There’s an idea.”
He hoists himself up and strokes Morgan’s hair out of her face with slightly trembling fingers before shuffling towards the staircase.
When the baby is fed and asleep, Rhodey makes his way to Tony’s room, hoping against better knowledge that his friend would be following the baby’s example. But of course that’s not the case. The sounds of dry heaving are carrying clearly over to the staircase from the first floor bathroom.
“Tones?” Rhodey knocks on the door.
“’m good, don’t come in.”
“Sure…”
Rhodey pushes the door open and takes in the scene. Tony is slumped over the open toilet bowl, his cheek resting on the seat. His face is showing an unhealthy pallor. Towels and discarded bottles of Gatorade are strewn around him, and the smell of sickness hangs thickly in the air. It’s obvious that Tony has been ill for a while already.
“Dude,” Rhodey starts.
“I said don’t come in. Not pretty,” Tony rasps.
“Well, I’ve seen you worse.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me…” Tony coughs again and retches drily, not even bothering to lift his head anymore. Rhodey can see the muscles in his back contracting when he throws up again, the ribs visible under his shirt. Hs still hasn’t gained back his full weight after the three weeks in space.
“Oh, fuck this.” Tony reaches up weakly to flush, then crashes back against the giant bathtub. Tiredly, he looks up at Rhodey, his dark eyes glazed over from fever.
“Okay. Back to bed,” Rhodey orders.
“Not sure if I’m done,” Tony admits.
“I’ll get you a bucket.” Rhodey grabs Tony under the armpits to pull him up and steadies him until he is sure that Tony’s own feet can take his weight. Then he hands him a glass of water to rinse his mouth.
“Do you want some Tylenol?” he asks, scanning the medicine cabinet.
“Nah,” Tony shakes his head. “Tried. Didn’t stay down.”
“At least drink a bit of water. You must be getting dehydrated.”
Tony obeys, sipping at the glass while supporting himself on the wash basin. His hand is shaking so hard that water is spilling over the edge, even though the glass is barely filled two-thirds.
All at once, Rhodey vividly remembers the week after Tony had returned from Titan. True to his word, the first thing he did when he was able to stand again on his own was try to shave. His hands were shaking so much that Rhodey had to help him, steadily clearing the stubble that was more gray than black, deliberately not talking about Steve and space and the child whose absence was so present in each of Tony’s words and actions.
It still is.
Rhodey gets Tony settled into bed. The engineer lies down on the mattress gingerly, as if his whole body hurts. Within minutes, he falls into an exhausted slumber, looking entirely spent.
He is undeniably older now - a fight in space, a lost child, and another one born having taken their toll - but something about the way he keeps his forearm curled protectively around his face reminds Rhodey of college, of watching over him while he slept off his highs, an arrogant, vulnerable, entirely too-young kid in a world that didn’t care enough.  
Rhodey carefully pulls a blanket over his friend. He goes to the kitchen to fetch some crackers for himself and a basin in case Tony gets sick again and checks once more on Morgan, who is sleeping peacefully, hugging an Iron Man plush toy, then settles down in an armchair in the corner of the master bedroom. He picks up Tony’s tablet, scrolling lazily through the news, before setting out to ruin his friend’s Netflix viewing history.
Twenty minutes later, Tony starts moaning quietly, his face scrunched up and slick with sweat. He rolls to and fro, hands balled into fists, his eyeballs moving rapidly below his eyelids as he mumbles something unintelligible.
Rhodey sighs and stands up to wake him. Before he can do so, Tony snaps upright. “Peter,” he croaks breathlessly. His eyes dart around the room, taking it in with a mixture of confusion and fear.
Rhodey just shakes his head. “No, Tony. I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
“Oh.” Understanding settles in Tony’s features, disappointment, sadness. He slumps back against the pillows, brushing an arm over his face to wipe away sweat and maybe more. So much pain. So much guilt. “Is Morgan—?”
“She’s fine. Go back to sleep,” Rhodey advises.
Tony grunts in response. He closes his eyes, but opens them again a few seconds later, looking paler than before. “I need- ” he clasps a hand over his lips, sitting up, and tries to get his feet under him.
Rhodey takes the basin from the nightstand and pushes it into his hands, silently ordering him to stay in bed. “Here. It’s okay.”
Tony eyes the bowl and takes a few shallow breaths, closing his eyes. Rhodey can see his throat working as he tries not to be sick.
Upstairs, Morgan starts to cry.
Tony reflexively makes to stand up. “I got her,” Rhodey reassures, already half out the door. He feels his heart go a little warm. The one man whom nobody ever would have thought would be a father has turned out to be a pretty good one.
He hears Tony retch behind him and the sound of liquid splashing into the bowl when he climbs the stairs. Rhodey makes a mental note to keep an eye out for signs of dehydration since the only thing Tony could possibly be bringing up at this point is the few sips of water he had earlier.
Morgan is crying at a volume louder than should reasonably be possible for someone of her size. Rhodey changes her diaper and carries her around the room, talking nonsense to soothe her. It takes a while to settle her back down. She knows Rhodey well, but it’s clear that she wants her parents.
When he returns, Tony is still in the same position as he left him, but now slumped over, holding his head in his hands. The half-filled basin is sitting in between his knees.
“Hey.” Rhodey takes the bowl out of his lap gently and sets it on the floor. Tony barely reacts. He’s malleable, radiating heat, the fever evidently much higher than earlier. He barely opens his eyes when Rhodey helps him to lean back against a heap of pillows in front of the headboard. Rhodey goes to clean the evidence and returns with a wet washcloth that he uses to wipe down Tony’s face and then cool his forehead.
Tony is too feverish and uncomfortable to actually fall back asleep, so Rhodey starts the TV for some white noise and settles into the bed next to him. Tony watches with half-lidded eyes and heavy breaths, his hands clenching the blanket. He keeps shifting his weight against the pillows until his head lands on Rhodey’s shoulder, the sweaty hair hot and damp through his shirt. Rhodey adjust his position a little to make him more comfortable.
“So that’s what it takes to get you into bed with me,” Tony slurs.
Rhodey rolls his eyes. “You wish.”
There’s a pause as the weak smirk fades from Tony’s features and he lets out a tired sigh. “I…” He struggles to form words. “Just…thanks, dude.”
“It’s okay, Tony. I know.”
And he does, he’s always known. During the nights at MIT, he understood the way Tony sought distraction in parties and wine to quiet his thoughts and how he brought people home to bed to keep the loneliness at bay. He was there when Tony OD-ed on his graduation day, after Howard hadn’t shown up and Tony had worn an AC/DC shirt instead of a suit, insisting he didn’t give a damn about his summa cum laude. And that other, horrible night, after Tony’s parents died and he stood on Rhodey’s doorstep, high and silent, with red-rimmed eyes and traces of tears on his face.
After he’d returned from space, starved and broken, when he was too weak to cry and water just seemed to flow out of his eyes like from an overfilled pond, Rhodey understood that those tears were for Peter Parker. And the day Morgan was born and Tony was more afraid than ever before, Rhodey had quietly waited at the hospital all the way until the door opened and Tony stepped out with his daughter in his arms, smiling like the proudest man on earth.
Now he just sits there, feeling Tony shiver when the chills run through him, doing what he always does - being there.
He stays until Morgan starts up again and he has to extricate himself from the bed. She’s clearly awake this time, and it seems she’s had enough time without her parents, so Rhodey takes her to the master bedroom.
Tony is too out of it to even move much, so he just lets the baby crawl around him and numbly plays with her hair while she tries to grab his fingers.
“Yeah, kiddo. Daddy’s not much fun today,” Rhodey comments. Tony just shoots him a tired glare.
“You up for some toast?” Rhodey asks.
“Please don’t.” Tony’s face scrunches up with nausea.
Rhodey gets him to very slowly drink half a glass of water during the next fifteen minutes before Tony lies back down fully while Morgan is on her stomach, playing with a War Machine doll that has inexplicably found its way into the bed. After a while, Rhodey wets the washcloth again and drapes it over Tony’s burning forehead, receiving a grateful sigh.
Tony’s breaths eventually even out again and Rhodey gently picks up Morgan. He takes her outside and feeds her dinner, and she stares at him intently with the dark, warm eyes Rhodey knows all too well.
*
When Pepper comes home late that night, Rhodey is on the porch, carrying a crying Morgan in his arms who has decided a few hours ago that she was definitely done sleeping for the day.
“What happened?” Pepper asks, a crease appearing between her brows and worry set in her eyes. It’s been almost two years and the fear is still there, always lingering below the surface, ready to materialise upon the smallest provocation.
“Hey, everything’s okay. Tony’s got the flu, but it’s under control. He was very well-behaved - called me earlier today to help out.”
Pepper raises an eyebrow. “He told me he had a cold when I called him up last night.”
Rhodey sighs. He’s never seen Tony ask for someone to be around when he was sick, thanks to Howard Stark, and he’s sure that he wouldn’t have done it this time if it hadn’t been for Morgan.
Pepper takes the child from his arms and greets her with a kiss before entering the house and making straight for the master bedroom, not bothering to remove her shoes or jacket. Rhodey follows her upstairs, but stops just outside the bedroom door. He watches Pepper step in softly, Tony warily blinking his eyes open and then struggling to sit up when Pepper settles down on the side of the mattress.
Rhodey can’t hear what they are saying, but he sees Tony mumble something and warmth filling his tired eyes. The tension bleeds out of Pepper’s body when she ghosts a kiss on his cheek. Morgan giggles upon seeing her father, not understanding the words, but fully able to feel the completeness, the love, the rightness of it all.
It’s an impossible life they lead, Rhodey thinks, but something right has come out of it after all.
@badthingshappenbingo  - This is the fill for the square “Big Brother Instinct” on my Bingo card.
Link to all my fics
252 notes · View notes
tisfan · 6 years
Note
Ohh love the sarcasm prompts 🤩 how about 63 or 88 with winteriron? Thank you!!!
“I made a new friendtoday.” “Real or imaginary?” “Imaginary.”
A/n this one is a lot longer than the rest of the prompts, and somewhat angsty with a happy ending, so, don’t read in public without tissues, maybe?
Clearer than the Air 
(ao3 link)
Not everyone got asoulmate. Tony’s parents weren’t soulmates, though Jarvis and Ana were. Tonymostly didn’t remember his dreams, and when he did, they were about buildingthings, or flying, or weird stuff that he couldn’t quite explain. Sometimesthey were nightmares. But he’d never dreamed another person, not the way Anadescribed it.
“Doesn’t mean you don’thave one,” she’d told him, time and again. “They might just be a bit youngerthan you. Not born yet. You can’t talk in your dreams if they don’t even exist,right?”
Tony’s dad had adifferent theory. “Can’t imagine who the hell’d want to be saddled with you.”
Tony was six, and hedidn’t have a soulmate, probably, but that was okay. He’d get by. Stark menwere made of iron. Tony didn’t need anyone else, anyway.
So he was very surprisedto wake from a nap to find himself in a place he’d never been before, bright andshining and... and clear in a way that he’d never experienced before, not evenwith the most perfect glass. It was warm and he wasn’t afraid. And he alsowasn’t alone.
“Holy cow,” someonesaid. “Weren’t expecting this.”
The man, and it was aman, a grown-up man, was laying back on nothingness, except that as soon asTony noticed that there was nothing there, there was. A grassy hill, and theman was laying on it, leaning on one elbow, staring up at Tony. “Hey, kid.”
“Hi.” Tony stared at theman. Then he looked around -- nothing but grass and gently rolling hills, andstill that strange clear feeling. He looked back at the man. “Are you mysoulmate?”
“Christ, I hope not,” theman said, sucking in a shocked breath.  
Oh. Oh. Tony’s dad wasright. No one would want him. Tony took a careful breath, so he wouldn’t cry,because crying was for babies. “Oh. That’s. That’s all right, if you don’t wantme.” It would have to be all right, wouldn’t it?
“No, no, wait,” the mansaid. “I’m a dic-- er, not very nice. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…God, look at you. You’re… I just didn’t think I had one. I mean, you’re soyoung.”
Tony sat down on thegrass. “Mama says I’m very mature for my age. If you don’t want to besoulmates, can we be friends?”
The man patted thegrass. “Yeah, yeah we can. I could use a friend. You gotta name, pal?”
“I’m Tony.” Tony heldout his hand to shake, just like his dad did.
(more under the cut)
The man took Tony’shand, but instead of shaking it, he folded his hand around Tony’s fingers,bowing over his hand. “My name’s Bucky.” He pressed his mouth to the back ofTony’s hand, like they were in a fairy tale and Bucky was a knight greeting theprince. “Look, I don’t know…. I don’t know if I’ll ever find you again, kid.But… just know it’s not your fault. None o’ this. You promise, you’ll rememberthat?”
Tony didn’t quiteunderstand that part. It was nice, that it wasn’t his fault, that wasn’tsomething he heard very often. But what wasn’t his fault? But Bucky looked soearnest and sincere and concerned that Tony found himself nodding. “I’llremember.”
“Shit,” Bucky said, andhis hand tightened on Tony’s and he could feel it, the way he never feltanything in dreams. “I don’t want to go--” His hand squeezed, painfully hardand then… he faded into mist.
“Bucky?” Tony lookedaround. He got up and turned in a circle, but he didn’t see Bucky anywhere.Then the clear turned into fog and--
Tony woke up. “Oh.”Maybe that was what had happened to Bucky -- he’d woken up. That was okay.They’d sleep again, pretty soon.
Tony slid out of his bedand made his way down to the kitchen for a glass of milk and an apple. “I madea new friend today,” he said, as Jarvis was pouring the milk for him.
“Did you?” Jarvis asked,taking Tony seriously the way he always did. Listening to him. “Real orimaginary?”
Tony thought about thatfor a moment. Bucky had seemed very real. But the dream-place was forsoulmates, and Bucky hadn’t wanted to be soulmates, so maybe it was a dreamafter all? And even if Bucky was real, Tony kind of... wanted to keep it all tohimself, for now. For a while. Maybe until he found out where Bucky lived, andthen he’d be able to ask if they could go visit. That sounded like a good idea.“Imaginary,” Tony said, and took a bite of his apple.
“Imaginary friends canbe very dear,” Jarvis said. “And just as special, if not even more so, than thepeople around us. An imaginary friend won’t let you down, or disappoint you. Orbe disappointed in you. So, you give them a special hug, won’t you? Next timeyou talk.”
“Okay,” Tony agreed. Ahug sounded nice.
Tony didn’t dream ofBucky again that night. Or the next. Or the next. Ana had told him thatsoulmate dreams happened often, almost any time you were both asleep -- butBucky didn’t come back.
Maybe he’d been a dream,after all. Or he really, really didn’t want Tony, even as a friend.
Tony was disappointed,but he hid it as best he could. Soon after, Tony’s dad announced that he’dfound a boarding school that would take Tony on despite him being a good dealyounger than the usual first-year students, and Tony had that to occupy him.
Days turned into weeksturned into months turned into years. Tony was fourteen, and had just gottenhis acceptance letter from MIT, when he fell into bed after a late night ofstudying, and woke up to oddly clear air and a grassy hillside that heremembered nearly down to the individual blades of grass.
He swallowed, hard,barely daring to look, but--
“Oh, Tony, oh, god--”Bucky actually practically leaped up from the hill. He hadn’t changed much fromthe dream that Tony remembered as a boy. His hair was a little longer, tangledand greasy as if he hadn’t washed it in weeks. “Am I actually dreaming?”
“Bucky?” Tony’s voicecracked, to his embarrassment. “Are you really here? It’s been years!”
Bucky rubbed at hisface, and Tony stared. Instead of a human hand, Bucky had something that lookedstraight out of science fiction, a shiny metal prosthetic that moved as if itwere part of him. “They don’t let me--” he started, then cut himself off. “Idon’t dream much.”
“They don’t let yousleep?” Tony took a step closer in immediate concern. “I might be rememberingwrong but I’m pretty sure that’s against the Geneva Conventions. Who-- Who’sgot you? Maybe there’s something I can do, well, not me, my dad, but--”
“No,” Bucky said, “No,you-- no one can do anything for me, Tony. Why… why am I even sleeping now?” Hestared around, like the hill or the sky might have answers for him. “Jesus,they tell you everything about soulmates but they don’t tell you how fuckin’hard it is to lie to one. Tony, you gotta promise me, promise! You’re th’ onlything I got that’s worth shit, and you gotta stay safe. Don’t come looking forme. Please.”
Tony pouted. “That’s ashit thing to ask,” he said. “If you’re really my soulmate... I wasn’t evensure you were real, but you are, and--”
“I’m not real. I’m agoddamn ghost,” Bucky snapped. “And they won’t just hurt you, Tony. They willkill you--” He reached out his hand and touched Tony’s cheek. “You’re sobeautiful. You’re radiant. All I-- they will use me to kill you. Don’t. Pleasedon’t make me do that.”
It was unfair, it wasmonumentally unfair. Especially now that Tony was noticing things that hehadn’t, at six, like how goddamn gorgeous Bucky was, holy shit. But once again,Bucky was asking, all that intent sincerity in his eyes, and Tony could donothing but agree. “...All right,” he said, grudgingly. He tipped his head tostudy Bucky’s face. “You weren’t, y’know, avoiding me?”
“If I could stay herewith you, I would,” Bucky promised. “If I coulda been there, for you, all thoseyears… what are you, thirteen, now? I missed so much, I’m so-- so sorry, Tony.”
“Fourteen,” Tony said.“Almost fifteen. Would you-- We can stay here, right? For now? For a while?”
“Yeah, as long as Ican,” Bucky said. He ran that amazing hand through his hair, pushing it backfrom his face. “I think-- I think I’m hurt. I might be… might be in Med/Rep.”He sat down, pulling Tony down onto the hillside with him, laced their fingerstogether. “Tell me… tell me something about you, something special.”
“Uh, I don’t know. I...I got into MIT, that’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah?” Bucky asked.“That’s the, yeah the engineering school, they moved to Cambridge just before Iwas born.” He chuckled. “Some rich swell, he donated a ton of money, Mr.Eastman. They… the school has a beaver for a mascot.”
“Almost right,” Tonysaid. “Except the school moved, like, ages ago. Before my dad was even born,and he’s old.”
“Age is just a number,right?” Bucky asked, not as a rhetorical question, but seemingly an honestinquiry. “I mean, does it matter? I don’t think it matters anymore.”
“Sure, I mean, if you’retalking about us, I’m not, y’know, freaked out by the difference or anything.”Tony leaned into Bucky’s side, and it was just exactly like he’d alwaysimagined it would feel, but better.
Bucky ruffled Tony’shair. “I think you’re just right. Even if you’re about half m’ damn age. Justmeans you’ll be prettier, longer.”
Tony laughed. “All this,and brains, too,” he quipped. “I’m glad you came back.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Buckysaid. “Hey, Tony, I don’t… you know. I don’t want you to-- just live, for me,okay? Party and have good friends, kiss some pretty dames. I can’t… I don’tknow how often I’ll be here, with you, an’ I don’t want you to feel like youneed to wait for me, or nothin’. I ain’t gonna be sore at you.”
Tony bit his lip. “Butyou’ll come back, right? As much as you can?”
“If I can, when I can,”Bucky promised. He inhaled sharply, pushing his hand against his ribs.“Sedative’s wearing off, they’ll be-- No, no, no, I don’t want-- gimme a kiss,Tony, to bear me away?”
Tony twisted around andpressed his lips to Bucky’s. He’d never kissed anyone before, not really, so heprobably wasn’t very good at it, but it was warm and soft and nice and...
...and Bucky was goneagain.
That special cleardream, the air so sharp it could cut, was dark.
There’d never been anysun, not that Tony could see, but it was always bright and warm and the sky hadbeen as blue as Bucky’s eyes.
Not that night.
It was black, black andstarless, nothing but darkness and some faint, unhealthy greenish glow from… hedidn’t even know. It suited his mood, though, the half-numb grief and guilt andrelief and anger and... everything that had been stirring around in him fordays, since his parents had died.
He shouldn’t havethought there were nevers involved; Tony had only been here twice. That wasn’ta statistically significant number for determining an always or a never.
Despite barely beingable to see, Tony knew exactly where he was.
There was one spot, oneplace in the darkness, that was utterly, utterly black. Not even the greenishglow penetrated it. Not much larger than a man, if a man was curled up onhimself, as tight of a ball as Bucky could manage.
And Tony knew that itwas Bucky, Bucky was there, he was there, in this, the worst moment of Tony’slife.
“Bucky,” Tony said, andit felt like putting down a burden to be here, just when he needed it most.“Oh, god, Bucky.” He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around Bucky’sshoulders. “Thank God. Bucky, my-- my parents, they--”
“... don’t…” Buckymanaged. He didn’t uncurl from the ball, didn’t look at Tony. Tony could barelyhear him at all, couldn’t feel the solidness of him. It was like he was barelythere, trying to wake himself up. “Don’t touch me, I’m… oh, Tony, I’m so, sosorry.”
That brought Tony upshort. That didn’t sound like I’m sorry your parents are dead, it sounded likeI did something wrong. “What? Bucky, what... what happened?” He reached out,but couldn’t quite touch, not if Bucky didn’t want him to.
Bucky looked up at him,then, and even in the dim light, Tony could see that Bucky looked wrecked.Devastated. His face was ravaged with grief, guilt. Agony. “This is a mockery,it’s perverse. It’s-- I… I’m disgusting. This is no good, Tony, it’s no good atall. I can’t… I can’t be-- you shouldn’t be here.”
“What, no, no, don’ttalk like that, you can’t-- You’re not disgusting! What’s wrong, what... Bucky,please, you’re scaring me!” Tony bit his lip until it was nearly bleeding.“Talk to me.”
“I should scare you,”Bucky told him. “I should fucking terrify you. I’m a monster, Tony.” He rippedat his clothes, pulling off strange-looking armor to reveal a scarred chest,the metal arm practically burned on-- “Look what they’ve made me into!”
“That’s not your fault,”Tony said stubbornly. “You can’t help that. That’s on them. I’m not scared ofyou, I’m scared for you. Tell me what happened, please.”
“I did exactly what Iwas designed and made to do,” Bucky said, and he was sobbing. Not loud orjagged, but tears practically poured down his face, dripping from his chin.“Mission report, successful. Dead. No witnesses. Objective obtained. I’m aweapon, and weapons only do one thing, Tony. They kill.”
“You’re more than aweapon,” Tony insisted, though something was churning uneasily in his guts.“Bucky, you’re more than that, you have to be more than that.”
Bucky scoffed, bitter,getting to his feet with a grunt of effort. “Why? Because you love me? Don’tyou see, Tony-- Don’t you see that’s why this is so awful? Don’t. Don’t comeback here again. I’m dead. I’m dead to everyone in the world who matters.”
“You’re not, you’re notdead, and I do love you,” Tony said, and tears were sliding down his owncheeks. “You can’t-- You can’t leave me, not now. You promised!”
“This may be the onlytime I can leave you,” Bucky said, that mask of anger cracking. “I have to, Ihave to rip this thing out by the roots. This is a mockery, Tony. It was nevermeant to be. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t know.”
He took a step back,toward the darkness. And another, and another. “I wish to Christ I didn’t loveyou.”
And he was gone.
Not everyone got asoulmate. Tony would’ve been fine, without one. But he couldn’t, not even afteryears of searching, find a single credible account of one soulmate rejectinganother.
Alcohol helped. If hedrank enough, he skipped right past dreaming and on to completely passed out.
Drugs were better. Theypainted his dreams so luridly that even if he did wind up back on that grassyhill, he didn’t recognize it.
He was a genius, and hewas rich, so he had no trouble obtaining as much liquor and drugs as he wanted,and no lack of people willing to share it with him. Of course, after a while,his body began to adapt to the drugs. It took more and more of them to wipe hisdreams away. He stayed up for days at a time, until he was on the verge ofhallucinating, and then took the drugs, and that worked for a little while.
But it seemedinevitable, after all, when he opened his eyes on air that was clear and sharp,and the light, wherever it came from, was back, if not as bright as Tonyremembered it from the first two times.
“I’ve seen you,” Buckysaid. “A few times. You couldn’t hear me. I thought that was… better, maybe.But it’s not, is it?”
“Why are you here?” Tonydemanded. “You don’t want me. Look at me! I’m a mess!” The world was tiltingcrazily, and Tony had to sit down. Fall down. They were sort of the same.
“What have you beendoing to yourself?” Bucky reached out, not asking permission, not evenhesitating, and tugged Tony into a sitting position, grabbing his chin withthat metal hand to peer into Tony’s eyes. “Jesus, are you trying to killyourself?”
Tony huffed and pulledaway. “What do you care?”
“Don’t know,” Buckysaid, “but I do. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe it would be better if… doesn’tmatter, does it? We’re both stuck with this, and I care. I care so much it’sbreaking me. I can’t… I can’t… I can’t hold onto nothin’, just you, and… I’m anold ghost and I’m haunting myself. How old are you, now?”
“Twenty... six. I think.What day is it?” Tony shook his head. “You won’t even tell me why.”
“Huh…” Bucky patted hishair, gently, and Tony wanted to protest, he wanted to throw Bucky off, exceptit felt really, really good. Soothing, somehow. “We’re almost the same agenow.”
Tony frowned at him.“How do you figure that? Time is still linear.”
“Yeah, I know,” Buckysaid. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m not quite twenty-eight. I’ve been… notquite twenty-eight for a long, long time now.”
“That doesn’t even makesense,” Tony complained. He squinted at Bucky. “Are you a hallucination?”
“I was born… in 1917. Idied in 1945. About a month before my birthday,” Bucky said. He hugged Tony tohim, as if he wasn’t even aware that he was doing it. “Didn’t take.”
“How does that evenwork?” Tony asked. The whole thing was making him irritable. He wasn’t supposedto have come here! “Who the hell has you?”
Bucky turned his head,nuzzled once at Tony’s hair. “Do some research, genius,” he said, almost likehe was scolding. “Arnim Zola. Cryo-hibernation. Project Rebirth. You’re a smartcookie. Look into it. Live, Tony. Stop tryin’ to drown me out with booze,you’re… your eyes are getting yellow. You’re killing yourself one drink at atime.”
Tony couldn’t help butlean into Bucky’s touch. “You didn’t want me,” he said petulantly. “Was tryin’to stay away.”
“I’ll always want you,”Bucky swore. “Always. But I am bad for you, baby. Everything about this iswrong. Ain’t your fault. It’s never been your fault. It’s just me. I’m poison.”
Tony sighed and leanedharder into Bucky’s body. “Maybe I’m immune,” he said. “Maybe I’m the antidote.Are you worse for me than the drinking and the drugs?”
“I don’t know,” Buckysaid. “I can’t promise… there’s… this is the only place that I’m still real,that I’m still mostly myself. If I ever see you-- I might not know who you are.I-- I’m wakin’ up, Tony. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I’ve been puttin’ you throughthis. I thought… I meant it for the best. I thought you’d be better --crap,lemme go--”
Bucky was fading and hewrenched at himself, like he was struggling in quicksand. “I love you, TonyStark. Don’t you forget it.”
“I love you,” Tony said quickly, before Buckycould disappear entirely. “I love you, no matter what. You’re mine and I’myours.” He tried to press a kiss to Bucky’s fading lips, but he barely felt it,just a whisper of sensation, and then Bucky was gone again.
Tony didn’t have asoul-dream while he was in Afghanistan. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointedor grateful for that. It would have been a comfort at a time that he sorelyneeded one. But it would also have been a distraction, and Tony wasn’t entirelysure he was ready to face Bucky -- the Bucky, James Buchanan Barnes,Captain America’s right-hand-man and a hero in his own right -- after havingbeen confronted with incontrovertible proof that his weapons were very much inthe wrong hands.
But Bucky didn’t come,not then, and not afterward. Tony was left to process Obie’s betrayal on hisown, and to finally decide to make an attempt, however late, to live up to hissoulmate’s sense of honor and justice.
Knowing Bucky was alive-- somewhere, somehow, sometimes -- made it easier to accept when CaptainAmerica was discovered and returned to the living. It didn’t make dealing withthe man easier, though. Nor did it help him accept the literal aliensthat invaded New York shortly thereafter. He carried that nuke through theportal and thought of Bucky, though. He wondered if Bucky would know, the nexttime his mysterious captors woke him up, that Tony had died.
He didn’t die. Buckydidn’t come to him then, either. It wasn’t until a couple of years later thatTony opened his eyes on clear air and a grassy hill and took a deep breath forthe first time, it seemed, since Afghanistan.
The hill was dotted withflowers, dandelions, mostly, in various states of yellow and bright, or whiteand puffy. Bucky had pulled a few of the puffy ones up and was blowing them --make a wish, Ana’s long-gone voice told him -- across the landscape.
“Tony--” Bucky lookedup, as if shocked to find Tony there. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I’m not the one who’sbeen absent for more than a decade,” Tony pointed out. “Christ, you’re youngerthan me, now. There’s a switch.”
“I don’t age,” Buckysaid, looking down at his hands. Absently, he started braiding a crown offlowers, mechanical hand as dextrous and graceful as the other. “I don’t age. Idon’t… I don’t remember. All of this-- since you were a kid. Has happened in, Idunno, maybe three months? Six months? I don’t… I don’t think it’s going to goon much longer.”
“What’s not going onmuch longer?” Tony wondered. He sat down next to Bucky, aching to touch.
“Me,” Bucky said.“There’s something wrong… something wrong with me. I keep slipping. It used tobe, they’d thaw me out, and I’d be good for months, do what they wanted. Theirkilling machine. Point me in the right direction and I’d go. It’s not like thatanymore. They can get, maybe a few days work before they have to wipe meagain.”
He finished off thecrown, tucking the stem ends up and closing the loop. With careful reverence,he laid the yellow and green flowers over Tony’s brow. “I’m breaking. I don’t…I don’t think he expects me to complete this mission. Or… maybe themission is for me to fail. I don’t think I can win. I think the mission willkill me.”
The child inside Tonywanted to cry out, It’s not fair! They’d only met a handful of times,never even in the real world. But that wasn’t how the world worked. Fairwasn’t on offer. “I’m part of a team of superheroes now,” he said, mouthquirking sardonically, because he was never going to be able to say that with astraight face. “You can tell me, now, who it is who has you. We’ll come and getyou out of there.”
“I know who you are,”Bucky said. “Iron Man, threat level 6, kill on sight. I wish I understood how…I know myself here, as much as I know you, and I know… what the Winter Soldierknows. I remember, the briefings, the missions. What I’ve done. What I wish I’dnever done. Tony-- I should have died. In the war, I should have died and Ididn’t. I don’t think I’ll ever see you again, and I… you know I keep trying totell you how messed up this is. You have to listen to me, this last time. I’mnot going to go to my death with you still thinkin’ I’m somehow… right for you.”
“You’re not going tochange my mind, you know,” Tony said, “but you go ahead and tell me whateveryou need to say.”
“Howard was my friend,”Bucky said. “I thought you looked familiar, first time I saw you. I didn’tknow, I swear to you, I didn’t know… Smart, he was, just as sharp as a tack.But dumb, too. He didn’t think anyone knew, but they’re everywhere. December,1991. He had a breakthrough, on the Rebirth serum. Remade Erskine’s formula.The Soviets knew their government was going down; they… you have to understandthat Hydra doesn’t hold itself to any one particular government ideal, but theywork with subversives in all governments. Everywhere. Everyone.”
He swallowed hard andlooked at Tony with strange intensity. “The rebirth serum could not stay inAmerican hands. Not with the fall of the Soviet Union being inevitable. Theysent an Asset to retrieve the formula. Kill Stark. No witnesses.”
“No,” Tony said. “No,you can’t mean--” His hands were shaking. “No.” His brain was reboundingbetween that last irritable argument with Howard and then Bucky, only a coupleof days later, saying, Dead. No witnesses. Objective obtained. “That wasmy mom.”
“I know,” Bucky said.The ache in his voice was beyond sympathy, or remorse. It was a dull, blackspot, like a cancer, that was growing and would consume him. “Don’t mourn forme, Tony. It’s only just that I pay for what I’ve done.”
“I...” Part of Tonywanted, needed to comfort Bucky, to wipe that flat, hopeless expressionfrom his face. But the rest of him was incandescent with rage. “I can’t, I--”The easy breathing of before was gone, leaving him barely able to draw abreath. “You, I...” He shook his head violently. “Why can’t I just wake up?!”
“I never wanted to,”Bucky continued in that dead voice. “I don’t… I never… they do something to me,they take away my memories, my… who I am. It’s just gone. I can remember, here,but when I’m awake, everything is just… either the mission, or maintenance.It’s either crystal, cold clarity, or it’s pain and confusion. It’s not… itisn’t what I wanted to be, this isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.”
Bucky turned his face tothe sky, yelling at God, or the heavens, or the soulrealm. “This is wrong, it’swrong, I shouldn’t have to hurt him like this!”
Tony yanked the flowercrown off his head and threw it in Bucky’s face. “Just-- Leave me alone!”
He woke with a jolt,tears already running down his face and a pain in his chest that felt likeemptiness.
It was the very next daywhen JARVIS said, “Sir, I have news regarding Captain Rogers.” Without waitingfor Tony’s permission, a screen opened showing what looked like traffic-copterfootage of -- yeah, that was definitely Steve and -- was that Natasha? And whowas the third guy? -- facing off against a team of guys in black tactical gear.
He could be inWashington in half an hour. Fifteen minutes, if he broke some FAA rules. “Prepthe suit, J, and-- Wait. Hold screen.” Tony dragged the window wider, focusingon the masked leader of the assailants... who had a metal arm.
“Threat level six, killon sight,” Tony murmured. “Son of a bitch. Fuck.” He’d never even toldSteve that Bucky was alive, somewhere.
Bucky hadn’t expected tolive through this mission, and now Tony understood why.
“Sir, the suit is ready.Shall I deploy?”
Tony stared at thefrozen news screen, unable to respond. Which one of them would he even berescuing?
Fuck it; he’d figure itout on the way. “Deploy,” Tony said.
As it happened, JARVIShad already filed with the FAA for special permissions for low-altitude,high-speed travel citing a probable national emergency. Tony wasn’t sure ifhe’d actually obtained permission, or just created it, but eitherway, there it was. He shot south as fast as he could push the suit.
He saw smoke risingbefore he even reached the outskirts of Washington. “JARVIS, get a lock on themain guy’s support team; let’s clean up the distractions first.” Plus, that wayhe didn’t have to think about what he was here to do.
“Support team arealready out of the equation, sir. Acquiring primary target.”
“Let’s give him a chanceto surrender, now that he’s outnumbered,” Tony said, and didn’t think about howweak his voice sounded. Below, the Winter Soldier was holding his own againstSteve and Natasha. The third guy, where was-- There. Tying up the WinterSoldier’s support team. Okay.
Tony dropped into place,hovering, and opened his PA mic. “Time to stand down, Manchurian Candidate,” heannounced. Please, he begged silently.
“Tony, what the hell--”Steve blurted out. “Get him, he’s killed Fury!”
The shield bouncedthrough the combat field again, this time chucked by some guy with with a tinyknife and a big goddamn gun. “On your left,” the guy yelled, and Steve caughtit, even in the middle of combat, a tiny smile touching his features.
“You, I like,” Tonysaid. He aimed a repulsor at the Winter Soldier. “Come on, don’t make me dothis,” he said.
“Iron Man,” the WinterSoldier said, sounding… mechanical. The goggles on his face mask had broken atsome point and he was staring at Tony with confused, brilliant blue eyes.“Threat level six.”
He reached around behindhim, grabbed a tiny little grenade, and threw it at Tony with terrifyingaccuracy. It was like he’d already analyzed enough of Tony’s movements to knowhow Tony was going to dodge, because the instant Tony ducked aside, the goddamnthing curved.
Tony had just a glimpseof Natasha leaping out from behind a car, holding a garrotte, before thegrenade exploded right in Tony’s face, and everything went dark.
They were smart. Whoeverthey were. He was seated in a thick, metal chair, a head restraint holding himback, and magnetic cuffs pinning him in place.
He couldn’t help the wayhis breath sped, waiting for the wipe.
Waiting for the pain.
“Mr. Barnes,” someonesaid. He couldn’t look, he couldn’t see anything except the explosion and theway Iron Man had gone slack, falling to the pavement. Target eliminated.
He didn’t answer theperson. What could he possibly have to say? What answers could make up for whathe’d done?
“Mr. Barnes,” they saidagain. “Your vitals suggest extreme stress. You’re malnourished, dehydrated,and sleep deprived. We’d like your permission to sedate you for a while, untilwe can get you stabilized.”
He didn’t say anything.He didn’t acknowledge the voice. There was nothing to say. There was nothing toacknowledge. She was going to attempt sedation, regardless. His wants had neverbeen considered.
A man moved between hisline of sight and the wall.
Captain Rogers, threatlevel 6. Eliminate on sight.
Well, mission failure.
“Bucky?”
“Who the hell is Bucky?”That burst out before he even knew he was going to say anything. He shouldn’thave said anything.
“Bucky, let us helpyou,” the man said. Captain Rogers. Steve. Punk.
He glanced up to see theworry on Captain Rogers’ face. He was wearing a uniform, instead of the casualcivilian attire that he’d been in when the Winter Soldier had discovered him.Needed the authority, maybe.
“You can’t help,” hesaid. His voice was rusty, his throat hurt. Like he hadn’t talked in years, ormaybe that he’d spent years screaming.
“Let us try, okay, pal?”
He couldn’t stop them.He didn’t want to stop them. Whatever they did to him, whatever torments andagonies they visited on him. It was just what he deserved. But they alsoweren’t going to act unless they got this mockery of permission. Whateverhelped them sleep at night, he guessed.
“Yeah,” he said.
He might have saidsomething else, but blackness overwhelmed him.
The last thought he hadas it chased him into oblivion was that they must know. They knew who he was,they knew what he was, because normal sedation methods did not work on--
The hillside was warm, theway it always was.
The only time, the onlyplace, that he ever felt warm anymore. The rest of the time, he was just cold.He was always cold.
Why was he even here?His mate was dead, and Bucky had killed him. There should never be any soulrealm for him, not anymore.
There should have neverbeen any to begin with.
He closed his eyes andallowed the tears to slip free. Mourning the man he’d never so much as touchedin the real world.
Hydra would recover himsoon; no one else could hold him, they’d never allow it.
If Bucky was very, verylucky, his captors would be stupid, careless. He kept a grace knife, betweenthe plates of his upper arm. Just thirty seconds with his arm free and he couldcut his own throat.
“Well, this is a hell ofa mess.” Tony was standing where he always stood, here, arms crossed, browfurrowed as he considered Bucky. He looked... fine. Tired -- the skin under hiseyes was dark and sunken -- but alive. Not even bruised.
“You look good for adead man.” Which was completely inane. Stupid. Bucky had finally lost whatlittle of his mind was left intact. Maybe they were both dead, and if so, Buckywas going to find his maker and kneel at the man’s feet for giving Bucky thisone, last, vivid hallucination.
“Thanks. So do you.”Tony tipped his head. “You didn’t think you could kill Iron Man thateasily, did you?”
“Didn’t really have timeto check for vitals,” Bucky said, the relief washing over him was so great thathe was practically giddy. “But you did make a hole in the pavement. That’s… notusually something people get up from.”
There was some dim partof him that wanted to argue that Tony should have been dead. The Winter Soldierdid not fail simple kill commands. That didn’t happen, and there was aspurt of fear that accompanied thoughts of what would happen when Pierce knewof his failure, knew… Bucky would be found so easily, he would be found and theconsequences of his failure would be visited on not only him, but everyonearound him.
“Fuck, I need t’ get outof here,” Bucky said, and he moved as if to struggle against restraints thatweren’t here…
“Hey, hey, hey, take iteasy, relax,” Tony said, hands out, placating. “You dropped the suit, but Iwasn’t in it. Remote piloting. I’m not even in Washington. You’re in custody.You’re okay. We’re both okay.”
“I’m compromised,” Buckysaid, trying for urgency, but the relief was still so great, he couldn’t helpbut just… breathe. Inhale the scent of the grass, the clear cut blue of thesky, Tony. All the things he associated with this… this place. “They will comefor me. You won’t be able to stop them. You don’t even know who they are,they’ll execute everyone, on the mere chance that I’ve talked.”
“Well, then, now wouldbe a good time to actually talk,” Tony pointed out. “What are we dealing with,here. You’ve got Captain America and Iron Man both on your side, and we candrag the others in if we need to, but it helps a lot if we know what we’refacing.”
“Hydra,” Bucky said,simply, because there was no point in hiding it anymore. He couldn’t evenremember why he’d ever started. Shame, maybe. The pointlessness of confessing,the fear that Tony would try something stupid, like rescue the carcassthat was carrying around so very little of what left of Bucky Barnes. “Hydra.They’re everywhere. Inside SHIELD, inside the World Security Council.Inside the White House.”
“Yeah, we kind offigured out SHIELD was infested when they declared Captain America a fugitive.How high up does it go? Did they kill Fury because he knew too much?”
“I killed Fury,” Buckymuttered, because it was true. “He… he went to Rogers. Rogers might know. Hadto eliminate or discredit Rogers, so he won’t expose Pierce before Insightlaunches.”
It was hard to say. Eachword screamed against his insides as he practically choked them out. Blades inhis throat, poison in his lungs. He confessed, with no hope of redemption. He’ddone so much, he’d been complicit in so much. The lives that would be lost inthe next three days, he was drowning in that blood. He could never be forgivenfor what he’d done.
Tony sucked in a breaththrough his teeth, looking grim. “All the way up to Pierce? Damn it. Okay.We’ll deal with it.” He knelt beside Bucky, took Bucky’s hand in his own.“We’ll deal with it. Promise. You’re safe now.”
“There’s no safety,”Bucky said. He would die for this, for this treachery, but maybe, if he diedexposing Insight, there would be some, later, who would speak well of him.“Insight is ready, it’s going to launch. Millions… millions will die.”
“How soon?” Tonywondered. “Hours, days?”
“Two days, maybe less.Depend-- my mission. My mission failed. Rogers is alive. Could launch…maybe eight hours?” He stared at his hands and then finally, finally looked upat Tony, taking him in, drinking in the ease and cool water that was Tony.“You know I won’t be able to verify or confirm any of this… when I wake up.Will I even wake up?”
“You’re going to wakeup,” Tony promised. “I told you, you have Captain America and Iron Man both onyour side, here. But we might need to take care of this Insight mess first. Andthen we’ll work on getting your head straightened out, out there.” He sighed.“Steve is going to be so pissed that I didn’t tell him about you.”
“Whatwas to tell? I was a tiny scrap of sanity,” Bucky said. “Just a dream. Youdidn’t have any proof, no idea where to find me. I didn’t want you to know.”
“Yeah,well. I know where to find you now. We’re going to fix this, honey. Promise.”
Hedidn’t deserve it. Not forgiveness or even absolution. He didn’t deserve Tonycalling him pet names, or pretending that everything was going to be all right,because it was never going to be all right. “Don’t wake me up. All I’ll do istry an’ kill you again.”
“Maybe,”Tony said, smiling a little. “We’ll talk about that next time. For now, Ishould probably wake up and go fill Steve and Natasha in on the situation.”
He didn’t deserve it.
What happened to him was monstrous, and theycreated a monster. He was the ghost story, the thing in the closet, under thebed. He wasn’t owed any solace, shouldn’t even ask. But he swallowed againstthe tears that were trying to rise again. “Sit with me? For a bit?”
“Yeah, I can sit for a little bit.” Tony foldedhimself down onto the grass and leaned against Bucky’s side, like he hadbefore. “Tell me something about you,” he said. “Something special.”
There was a tickle in the back of his throat, andwhen Bucky opened his mouth, he discovered it was a laugh. “I was two-timewelterweight boxing champion of Brooklyn.”
“Yeah? When you’re feeling better, I’ll have tointroduce you to Happy. He’s a boxer. My fighting style offends him.”
“I know,” Bucky said, slowly. “I know what I’vedone can never be undone. I didn’t want to, it wasn’t my choice. But I didthem. I’m… I may not be worth… this. But I am so, very sorry for everythingI’ve put you through.”
Tony took a breath and held it, his eyes closed,and then let it out on a sigh. “I know. I appreciate the apology. I won’tpretend it’s not... difficult.” He looked up, his eyes warm and serious. “Butyou are absolutely worth it. You’re worth everything.”
“You’re either a liar, in which case, you’repretty good at it,” Bucky said, “or you’re insane, which is more likely, I’lladmit. Or you mean that, and I absolutely do not deserve it.” He hesitated thenreached out his hand, letting those cool, metal fingers hover midair, to see ifTony would take it. An eternity of waiting, or maybe only a second--
Tony closed his hand over Bucky’s withouthesitation, then pulled it in to kiss the knuckles. “Yeah, we’re going to workon that.” He sighed. “I should wake up and go save the world again.”
For once, Bucky looked around with certainty. Itdidn’t matter, he supposed, what happened next. “I’ll… be right here waiting.”
“Sergeant Barnes?” The girl -- and she really wasa girl, closer to sixteen than Bucky was to sixty (or ninety, or a hundred. Hecouldn’t tell anymore, and it didn’t matter.)
“Just Bucky,” he said, shaking his head andmarvelling at the fact that he could, legitimately, reclaim his name. Reclaimsomething of himself. Some of his soul, worn and battered as it was.
Not quite, he thought, as much as it should havebeen. “Princess--”
“It is only Shuri,” she said. “What troubles younow?”
“Did you… do something?” He didn’t know how totell her what he feared, that in addition to cleansing his triggers andconditioning, she’d… falsely eased his burdens.
“I did many things,” she said, grinning proudly.She deserved to be proud. She was by far the smartest person he’d ever met.“All of them fair, just, and for both the benefit of yourself, and what thecouncil decided, in the face of your rather extraordinary circumstances. Youare, as of this moment, a free man. And no longer under my care.”
Freedom.
There’d been a hearing; he’d watched most of iton the cameras, gone in exactly once to give testimony (most of his testimonyhad gone from him to Shuri, through his attorney -- a tall, green woman,well spoken and persuasive -- before ending up in front of the jury.)
They’d declared him America’s longest Prisoner ofWar.
A hero. Some might say.
He didn’t feel like a hero.
“So, now what?”
“You are a free man,” Shuri said again. “Far beit from me to tell you what to do.” She waved extravagantly at the door. “Butfor now, please get out of my office.”
He’d always before gone through the other door,the one back to his-- well, for a jail cell, it was a damn comfortable one. Butthere was no mistaking it for what it was. A cell.
This time, he went to the main door, and the knobturned under his hand.
He hesitated, heart pounding in fear. He didn’tknow what was out there. He didn’t know… where he’d go.
Tony had visited him, a few times, in thesoulrealm, but he’d never come to the prison. The Raft, as it was called. Amobile, oceangoing fortress. Inescapable. Bucky hadn’t believed that, but healso hadn’t tried to escape.
Steve had come, not once or twice, but dozens oftimes. He’d also been the one to point out that Bucky’s beard was coming ingrey.
The door opened and emptied him out into ahallway.
There were no guards. There were no guides.
Just a long, simple hallway, with an exit sign atthe far end.
Might as well exit.
He climbed a set of stairs and found himself on…a landing platform, being lashed with rain. It was dark. Windy.
And there was a shiny helicopter on the platform.
“Sky’s the limit,” said a voice from behind him.A voice that Bucky knew as well as his own heartbeat, though he’d never heardit before.
If he’d paused to consider the moment, he mighthave frozen dramatically in shock. Might have gone to his knees insupplication. Might have done a dozen different things. Instead, he turnedwithout thinking and let himself fall into Tony’s arms.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Tony murmured into Bucky’shair. “I’ve been waiting for this, seems like forever.”
“All my life,” Bucky said, and he would no doubthave many, many sessions in which he dealt with his guilt, but for now, all hecould do was be grateful.
Grateful that Tony was here. Grateful that hewasn’t repulsed and revolted by Bucky.
Gratitude.
And love.
Not everyone got a soulmate.
Bucky had almost lost his. He clutched Tonytighter, probably too tight, but he couldn’t help it. He had so much time tomake up for.
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
178 notes · View notes
tnystrk-exe · 6 years
Text
Home 7
Tony Stark X Reader
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 End
AN: A fuck finally managed to write a thing! Writer’s block is a bitch.
Tumblr media
A blaring alarm kept going off, waking you in the most annoying way.
“Tony, turn it off,” you mumbled sleepily, not bothering to open your eyes. When the alarm kept going, you shifted to shake his shoulder only to be met with air, “Tones?” Sitting up, you looked around before reaching over his side for your phone. “Hello?”
“Good morning, YN,” Pepper greeted, “I’m sorry for waking you. I wanted to know if you and Ro were free for the next two days?”
“Yeah, we’re not busy,” you answered, suppressing a yawn.
“Then would you like to join me at the Stark Expo. It would be nice for Ro to see something else Tony has made. Especially since he’s been...distant lately.”
You thought for a moment, wondering if she knew about Tony’s condition. If Rhodey did. He told you last night, even if he hadn’t he’d be sure to tell them soon. “I think that sounds good. We’ve never really went out together. It would be nice,” you agreed, “Yeah, I’m sure Ro would love to go.”
“Great! Happy and I can be over in two hours to pick the both of you up.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” The line went dead soon after plans were made. “Tones? Still around?” You called out, not really expecting you’d get a response back.
Getting up, you walked to Ro’s room to wake her for the day. “C’mon, sweetheart, time to get up.”
“More sleeps mama. No ups.” She curled up more comfortably into her blankets, “nigh’ night.”
You couldn’t help a laugh, “We’re going to see somewhere new today.”
“Daddy coming?”
“No, sweetheart, but Pepper and Happy are going to take us.”
Ro pouted, pulling up the cover over her head. “No Pepper.”
“C’mon Ro, she’s kind and very nice. Give her a chance. She said wants to show you somewhere secret for your birthday present. You’re not being nice right now.”
“But daddy kissing her, don’t like it.”
“It’s okay,” you pulled the blanket off of her, “We don’t have to like everything when it’s given to us, but we can love them once we learn about the situations more. Just one shot, that’s all I’m asking. Your daddy cares about her very much.”
Her pout didn’t waiver, but gave you a small nod. “I try. Promise.”
“Great!” You picked her up, she sighed comfortably, nuzzling against your neck. “Let’s wake up a little before we start getting ready, Sleeping Beauty.”
-
Your daughter sat across from Pepper, humming as she scribbled in her coloring book. Ratty old ‘Ony Bear sat on the seat beside her, strapped in by her orders. Every other moment or so, she’d look up at Pepper shyly, curiosity in her eyes. A question poking and prodding at her. She wondered, briefly, wondered if it was a question you’d scold her for and one that would pull a laugh from Tony.
“Miss Pepper?” She interrupted the conversation about Pepper’s new position.
“Yes, Ro?”
“Does daddy love you or me more?”
Pepper laughed, “I don’t think your dad can love anyone more than you.”
“Does daddy love you more than mommy?” She asked, starting to color again.
That left an awkward air between the adults, one that a snoring Happy was completely oblivious towards. Pepper looked at you for an answer.
“Well...who makes daddy get out of the lab all the time?”
She looked up for a second, thinking, “Both.”
“Then that means, he has to love Dum-E more, right?”
Ro giggled loudly,  “E, loves daddy in lab! Whats ‘bout J?”
“Hmm,” you thought for a minute, playing it up to try to move her a long from the topic, “I’d say he’s a close second. Now, why don’t you and I play a game!” Ro cheered in agreement, before looking through her bag for whatever game she could figure out on the spot.
There had been a tension in the air between you and Pepper that neither truly understood. Though you were grateful for her new assistant, Natalie, for sensing it and suddenly having a wave of work that couldn’t be avoided. Still, you didn’t enjoy her inquisitive looks towards Ro.
“I didn’t know Mr. Stark had any children,” she stated when Ro got bored enough to fall asleep in her chair, “She does have some resemblance. Maybe it’s the eyes, but she favors you.”
“She’s mine,” you shrugged it off, “Comes with hanging out with Tony. A pap asked Ro if Tony was her daddy once and it sticked. We’ve tried to correct her, but you know how kids are when they get something stuck in their heads. We both figured it’s just something to grow out of.” She didn’t look convinced at the lame cover you and Tony had for on the spot emergencies. Usually people didn’t care once they found out she wasn’t his.
“Wouldn’t reaffirming it just be damaging? I’m sure her father doesn’t enjoy it much.”
“No complaints so far. Besides, I’m sure you don’t wanna be stuck on a jet with a crying four year old, just because I corrected her. It’s just easier for the time being to indulge her.”
Natalie gave you a judgmental look, “But Stark of all people? Are you sure th-“
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You cut her off, getting defensive.
“He just seems like an odd choice. All things considered.”
“Tony’s a good man. You haven’t known him enough to even begin to understand everything.” You weren’t the most patient when it came to people’s thoughts on Tony. Even after all these years, you couldn’t quiet get a handle on it like Rhodey had. Especially with all the politics surrounding Iron Man lately. You just didn’t want to hear it. “Don’t even think of questioning my decisions when it comes to Tony or my daughter.”
Natalie raised her brow but didn’t offer another word. Though her expression was blank, something told you that your small out burst had given her a reaction she wanted. What for whose to know?
-
“Mama, daddy coming now?” Ro asked, a bit pitifully.
The both of you were holed up in a hotel room while Pepper made perpetrations for the tech demonstration happening the following day.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart,” you motioned for the little girl to come sit in your lap, “But, maybe we can try to call him. Would you like that?”
Much to your surprise, she sook her head ‘no’. “Not same. I wan’ see daddy.”
“I’m sorry, baby. Maybe when we get back home, promise we’ll spend some time with him.”
“Ice cream?”
“If that’s what you want to do, it’s fine with me. The whole day can be a family day.”
-
Ro held your hand, skipping along beside you as the group made its way to the Stark Expo.
“I’ll be busy all day with the event and a couple of meetings,” Pepper offered you an apologetic smile, “I really thought I’d be able to keep the two of you some type of company today.”
“It’s fine, Pepper,” you shrugged, “Business calls. I’m sure Ro and I can keep ourselves more than entertained. Right kid?”
Ro looked around everywhere her eyes big in wonder, “Yes!”
“I’ll send you a message later tonight, so the two of you can see the show. Have fun.”
“Thank you miss Pepper,” Ro shouted waving her off.
You looked around, “So, where to first?” You didn’t really have a chance to finish before Ro started pulling you off towards an exhibit with a robot greeter at the door.
The whole day was spent going in and out of various shops and exhibitions. She even convinced you to get her a small Stark Industries shirt because she liked that it looked like Tony’s, Iron Man snow globe, and a tiny backpack so she didn’t need to hold her things. When the two of you took a quick break at a play area she found herself a little friend with a kid in an Iron Man mask.
Around sun down you got a text from Pepper, signaling it was time to meet up with the rest of the group. Ro was warn down, so you opted to carry her over, hoping she’d regain enough energy to get through the show without throwing a tantrum. When you finally made your way over, Ro slipped from your arms.
“‘M big girl mommy.”
“You weren’t a big girl five seconds ago,” you joked, lightly squeezing her hand in yours.
Ro stuck her tongue out at you before smiling, remarkably similar to Tony. Sometimes you wondered about those kinds of things. Whether she did pick up his little ticks or you just wanted to see them. As she was growing her features were starting to become more similar to Alex’s, but part of you wished she looked like someone that actually loved and cared for her instead.
“Thank you miss Pepper!” Ro’s shout pulled you out of your thoughts. She ran over quickly to hug her leg. “Next time, you come too?”
Pepper smiles, returning the hug happily, “It’s a deal. Are you ready to see the show?” She asked, starting to escort the two of you to your seats.
The show went off with out a hitch. You wouldn’t expect it to go another way, Pepper seems to have planned it down to the second.  Still, you couldn’t help but cringe when Hammer came out. The charisma he wanted to show just wasn’t there, you hushed Ro from giggling too loudly. You kept a scoff at bay while he pretended to care about keeping people safe rather than his own ego. Sure, you were probably biased, but he was still easy to see through. As he stroked his ego, different bots raised through the stage, a set for each branch of the military.
“Ladies and gentlemen, today I am proud to present to you the very first prototype in the Variable Threat Response Battle Suit and its pilot, Air Force Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes!” Hammer announced, gesturing to Rhodey.
“Uncle Rhodey!” Ro cheered, standing up from her seat to jump up and clap. She cut of with a gasp as Iron Man flew into the arena. “Daddy!”
You grabbed her hand so she wouldn’t run onto the stage. Rhodey and Tony seemed to have some kind of argument. Ro pulling against you took more of your attention, while you tried to calm her down, promising she’d get to see him in a minute.
“No! Now mommy!” Your grip on her slipped. That’s when the crowd started screaming, gunshots sounded off, and glass started shattering all around. “Leave daddy ‘lone!” You heard her shout, running in the direction she saw Tony fly off toward.
You tried to run after her, but the crowd of panicked people put more and more distance in between. All you could do was continue going forward and follow the small glimpse of her backpack. “Ro!”
The sound of explosions rang through the air. Someone from behind pushed you down, trying to get ahead. Some of the shattered glass cut a slice across your cheek. There wasn’t time to think about that as you got up, narrowly missing being stampeded over. When you finally made it out of the building, you had already lost sight of Ro. Mechanical whirling of the drones coming closer sent panic through you, but you stopped to look for her from your positions. A small body turned corner, wearing the same backpack Ro had. You had to trust it was her.
Chasing after the little figure, you’d always be a moment too late. Either a crowd would be in the way or she’d turn a corner. When you finally came close, she was running toward the little boy with the Iron Man mask from earlier. a drone was taking aim at him, Tony seemingly came out of no where just in time to stop it before flying back off. A small shout of “Good job, daddy!” waved off the fear you were following another kid.
You sped up as she stopped short of the boy. “Did it hurt you?” She asked.
“Uh huh,” he shook his head, “Stopped it just on time! Iron Man even told me good job!”
You grabbed Ro and picked her up, safer in your arms than on the ground in case she decided it was time for another run. “Don’t do that again. Stay close to me,” you have her a look over, assuring yourself that she was okay, “You can’t do that, okay?”
“Yes, mama, I sorry.”
“Hey,” you smiled at the little kid, “Do you mind taking off your mask, please?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he pulled it off, giving you a big smile.
“Do you know where your parents are?”
“Um...,” he shook his head, “I came here with my aunt and uncle.”
“Mind if I help you find them?”
“Please?” He grabbed your hand.
You took the two of them to the least chaotic areas you could find. Hoping they wouldn’t get scared and someone would recognize the kid soon. He seemed to perk up when he saw a man looking around frantically.
“Uncle Ben!” He called out running towards him.
The man turned around, easily catching the boy in his arms. “You’re safe,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “Don’t run away again, Pete. May’s worried sick.”
“I’m sorry, but I helped Iron Man!” Pete informed, “And this nice lady helped me find you.”
Ben looked to where Pete pointed to give you a grateful smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry, we really need to go find my wife. Do the two of you want to come with us? Maybe we can help you out too?”
“It’s not a problem. I think we’ll be okay,” you looked around, “despite things. Stay safe.”
“You too. Thank you again.”
An explosion happened close by, “I think, it’s time for us to go.” You tucked in Ro close, attempting to avoid all the crowds. All the same, you couldn’t ignore another’s toddler’s cries. A quick observation, you noticed her crying, looking into a wrecked building, thick smoke billowing out.
“Mama!” She cried, taking small, unsteady steps towards the danger.
Quickly you ran over to scooped her up. Glancing inside the shop, you found her mother quickly. Some rubble piled on her unconscious body. You could get her out, you decided as if there was any other option. Taking the girls to a bench clear from smoke, you made Ro sit, wrapping her arms snuggly against the toddler.
“Whatever you do, don’t let her go and stay here.”
She looked up, tears already pulling in her eyes. The fear she was so ignorant to minutes ago hit her in this moment. As well as she could, she managed a, “Yes, mommy.”
Taking a deep breath of clean air you ran into the building. Smoke was thick, but you could still manage to see somethings decently. Running over to the young parent, you started pushing off the rubble off as quickly as possible. You coughed hoarsely as smoke filled your lungs. Finally freeing her, you dragged her out of the building.
Making it as close to the girls as you could, you stopped to check the woman’s vitals. Her breathing and pulse were both dangerously low. You hoped Tony wasn’t in a life or death situation. Setting the call up, you handed Ro the phone, “When your dad answers tell him we need an EMT exactly where we are. If he doesn’t answer press the green phone again,” you ordered, before beginning CPR.
Some stress was taken off of you when you heard Ro speak uncertainty into the phone. Scared, but she got the basic gist of it through. The little girl’s crying didn’t allow much relief. A sense of pride took you over when you heard Ro make her voice a bit stronger and start to comfort the little girl.
Taking the time to check the woman’s pulse again told you it was stronger, but wouldn’t stay that way if you stopped CPR completely. You didn’t know how much time had passed, but you knew the toddler had stopped crying, explosions were raking through the air, and finally a stressed EMT told you it was time for you to take a break. Pulling away you went to slump down next to Ro, taking the toddler from her.
“You did so well, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”
The EMT spoke up before Ro could, “Do you three need a ride to the hospital?”
“Yeah, the baby is her’s,” you motioned to the mother the other EMT’s were putting into an ambulance, “I’d like to make sure she gets to someone she knows safely.”
Nearly twenty minutes later, you, Ro, and the mystery child were in seats in the hospital waiting room. You had bought them drinks and snacks from the vending machines to keep them sedated as they watched whatever cartoon was playing on tv. Remembering it may be a good idea to tell Tony the two of you were safe and well, you started looking for your phone. Not here. Must have been left at the bench.
You didn’t get to focus on it much before a young man ran in frantically. “I’m here for Olivia Campo. Is our baby here? I don’t know where our daughter is and the person that called me said Olivia was still unconscious.”
Taking a shot, you walked over to the man and tapped him on the shoulder, mystery toddler on your hip. “What do you want?” He asked turning around, not particularly rudely, just stressed and terrified beyond compare. Instantly, his face softened and he quickly grabbed her from your arms, “Do you know what happened to Olivia and Sofía?”
You gave him a quick rundown of what happened and how you had found the two of them.
“Thank you, ma’am. For everything. For saving them. Is there anything at all I can do for you?”
“Can I borrow your cell phone?” You asked, “I really need to call my kid’s dad.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he handed over his phone, “Take your time. I’m going to find out if they know anything else about my wife.”
Keying in the memorized number, you hit call. “Hey, Tones.”
“YN,” he sighed, “Are you okay? Is Ro?”
“We’re fine. Ro’s been through way more than I’d thought she’d go through on this trip, but fine. What about you and Rhodey?”
“I think Rhodey will fill in the role of sidekick just fine.”
“Funny, I always thought of you as the sidekick in that situation.”
“You’re probably right,” he laughed tiredly, “J has your location. Happy is going to drive over and pick the both of you up. Then we’re settling things and going home.”
“A shower and my own bed sound great right now.”
“Then it’s a play. We’ve got a date in your bed first thing.”
You rolled your eyes, “Goodbye Tony, I’ll see you later.”
-
Nearly a week later life was back to normal. Tony had just came back from his and Rhodey’s honorary ceremony in Washington and Ro was happily humming to herself as she drew.
“You’re such a dick,” you laughed, “How’d you even get Stern to be your presenter?”
“A pirate owed me a favor,” he stated, continuing when you raised your brow, “This secret boy band thing Avengers.”
“The Avengers?” You scrunched your nose, “Just name yourselves the Justice League and call it a day. What are your group avenging exactly?”
“Not my group. I’m not even in it.”
“You’re not in it? How’s that happen?”
“Well, Iron Man? Passed with flying colors. Me however, I’m not recommended at all.”
“What’s the tin man without his heart? It’s just a hunk of metal.”
He laughed, giving you a soft smile, “Thats cheesy even for you, but that’s the crux of it. He’s not a narcissistic, compulsive, or self-destructive,” he thought for a moment, “Actually that last one is a build in protocol, but that’s beside the point.”
You frowned, “When did they even get all that? From interviews?”
“Nope, last week was my test. I’m just a bench warmer, that can offer up occasional plans.”
“That’s not you,” you shook your head, “Tones, you put everything in what you do.”
Ro ran up to the table, “Look mommy! Look daddy!” Her chubby fist held up a colored on sheet of paper.
Tony picked her up and sat her on his lap, setting the paper on the table in the process. He looked it over, trying to make sense of the scribbles. “Is it Godzilla and Big Bird playing basket ball?”
“No, silly!” She pointed two to bodyish shaped figures, “Daddy and mommy save day. Superheros. See? And here it says ‘I lo’ you!’”
Tony kissed her cheek, “That’s cute, Ro. We love you too. What do you say we hang up this art work on the fridge?”
“Yes! Please!”
Keeping her in his arms, Tony walked over to the kitchen. He let her adjust around some of her other drawings and helped her set aside the ones she didn’t like anymore. It was their normal procedure. Tony had said it was a lengthy process but Howard had always made him upset when he’d take down drawings calling them “too childish.” There were small things he does to avoid making Ro feel anything less than perfect. He tried so hard.
“You’re a great dad,” you stated, dropping a kiss on his cheek.
He put his free arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Thank you, beautiful. That means a lot.” You watched as Ro moved around the magnets, making sure that her favorite pieces were set up perfectly. Tony watched you. For the briefest moment he thought about how easy it would be to close the distance. Take his shot and see what happened. The weight in his arms brought him back to reality, he had fucked up his family enough this month. So, instead he opted to kiss the scar you had earned yourself at the Expo, grateful that was the extent of your injuries. “I love the both of you.”
You look at him, smiling the smile that always knocked the air out of him. “I love you, too, Tony.”
“Lo’ you, daddy.” Ro turned his arms to hug him.
Someone knocked, startling the domestic bliss of the home. “I think that’s Happy and Pepper,” you said, pulling away.
“Happy and Pepper?”
“Yeah, family dinner. Rhodey should be here in twenty.”
“They’re family now?” He asked, smiling.
“Of course, you care about them don’t you? The only one missing is J.A.R.V.I.S., but that’s one you.”
“How?”
“I keep telling you to make a garage and a system here.”
“Dear, if I did that I’d have absolutely no reason to ever leave this house.”
“I don’t think we’d mind that very much,” you laughed. “We love having you here. Now, I should go open the door before Happy isn’t.”
“Good luck with that. He’s always a grouch.”
Everything Tag:
| @sophiatomlinson23 | @cannonindeez | @memyselfandmaddox | @mendes-holland | @space-helen |
Marvel Tag:
| @asguardiansoftheavengers | @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked | @lovely-geek | @atomicfandombomb |
Tony Stark Tag:
| @bit-bot0711 | @tonystarkxreader | @mikariell95 | @genzparker |
Home Tag:
| @marvellheros | @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 | @edwisenpai | @petalparker |
121 notes · View notes
ticklemekraken · 5 years
Text
“Say It Again...”
Tumblr media
Diego Hargreeves x Reader First time you tell him that you love him and he acts like it’s a damn miracle. If it gets a good reaction maybe I’ll write more, maybe I’ll take requests?
It isn’t the tossing and turning that wakes you, or the way the bed shakes as he cowers from his unseen terrors, what wakes you is the small, animal sounds of terror that slip from between his gritted teeth. They scare you enough that you don’t reach for the light but rather, blindly grasp through the darkness for him, reaching for any part of him so that you could coax him from what ever nightmare holds him so tightly in its grasp.
“D…… D, baby, it’s okay, it’s just a dream D, wake up” your voice is husky with sleep but purposeful and soothing, your hand finds his bicep, corded with tense muscle, you can feel that his whole body is taut with adrenaline, he whimpers again and the sound threatens to break you.
“Diego!” You sit over him now, positioned in a way that allows you to take his wide shoulders between your hands and shake him firmly. Whether it is this movement, or the sharpness of your voice that wakes him you don’t know, and you don’t have much time to ponder as his eyes snap open, his whole body acting instinctively, whirling over the top of you, pinning you beneath his solid forearm and pressing a knife you hadn’t realised he slept with to your throat. You go completely, perfectly still beneath him, the room is enshrouded in darkness but his face is close enough to yours that you can see in his eyes that the terror of his dream hasn’t quite let him go, his face is still filled with shadows, that darken his orbs and flatten his beautiful soft mouth into an unflinching line.
“D….. Sweetheart it’s me, it’s (Y/N)” you whisper softly, slowly, you know that he would never hurt you, but you also know that while he is in the grip of his darkest memories he isn’t completely himself, there is a wall between you and your Diego.
He blinks slowly and you watch with no small amount of relief as the last of the shadows in his eyes disperse, leaving nothing but the soulful chocolate eyes you had fallen so deeply in love with, they rimmed with silver as he takes you in, laying perfectly still, barely daring to breathe under the honed edge of his blade.
He throws the knife away like it has burned him, it skitters out of sight under the dresser as he sinks back onto his knees before you, looking at you like his heart is breaking.
“I-I-I-‘m s-s-sssssss” he takes a deep breath, trying desperately to regain some control “I-I-I’m so s-s-s-ssssss” his breath catches in his chest and you feel your heart actually break a little then and you couldn’t help but reach out for him, taking his face, still damp with sweat from his thrashing, between your hands and stroking first one thumb and then the other over his lips.
“Remember what your mom told you, D” you whisper “Picture the word in your mind”. You take a deep breath in together, moving as one, somehow always in sync and Diego tries again, his voice more solid now, the quaver all but gone.
“I’m so sorry, baby” he whispers, looking down from your eyes as he takes both of your hands into his from where the rested on his face, pressing a kiss gently to each palm before laying them in his lap, still wrapped in his much larger hands. You don’t reply, not straight away, choosing instead to crawl carefully into his lap, both of your legs sling over one of his and your face presses to his bare chest where you can hear the last of the adrenaline still making his breathing a little ragged fading away. Strong arms snake around you, tucking you still closer to his bare chest.
“Was it the dream about Ben, again?” You whisper. You feel rather than see him shake his head, no.
“The one where you’re throwing knives at your dad and they keep boomeranging back at you?” Another headshake.
“It was different, a new one” his voice is rough and sleepy still but you hear his whisper loud and clear, as always perfectly attuned to him. You wait patiently, knowing that he will tell you and is just figuring out the best words to use, picturing them in his mind.
“I was th-throwing knives” he begins carefully, conscious of the way being emotional makes his voice quaver. “But not at my father, they were just crooks. I was chasing a whole gang of them but whenever I threw a knife after them it just whizzed past them….”
You hold still, taking deep breaths and staying patiently quiet, knowing that he needs to get this out.
“So I threw more and more and more, trying to bring even one of em’ down…. And then I chased them around the corner and saw wh-wh-wh….. saw wh-wh-who….. who I was hitting” you fall completely still in his lap, barely daring to breathe as he confesses this terror to you. He takes a few more deep breaths to steady himself and then whispers into your hair, low enough that you have to listen carefully;
“It was y-y-y-you, (Y/N), you were in this filthy alley, on your kn-knees, just filled with my knives, and I watched as the last o-o-one slammed into you and you just toppled over” his voice is tortured, tight and rough like every word is a struggle, your eyes grow damp in response to his pain and you pull him close to you, as though you can absorb the hurt from him.
You’ve never seen Diego rattled like this, Diego who is so unbreakable, so strong and so invulnerable. Hell, the only reason you’re not surprised by his stutter is because he told you he suffered with it as a kid, until this moment you hadn’t ever heard it before. In this moment he is so raw, so vulnerable and so open, you do the only thing you know how to, you start talking, hoping that the words come out right.
“It was just a dream, D, I’m right here, and I’m the safest I could possibly be because my Kraken is beside me.” You try to wriggle out of his arms to get a better look at his face but he just holds you more firmly against his chest, a trickle of something wet plops into your hair and you immediately understand why he doesn’t want you to see his face right now, you struggle against his iron grip a moment more before settling for peppering his chest and arms and every part of him that you can reach with kisses.
It is several long moments before Diego speaks again, despite the ferocity of your kiss bombardment, his broken whispers causing you to immediately cease your onslaught.
“Y/N….. This is crazy. I’m crazy. My life is crazy. I can’t keep doing this to you, traipsing in at all hours of the night covered in blood, injured, all kinds of trash following me in from the darkness….. Baby, it’s dangerous, it’s only a matter of time before…..”
“Hargreeves you cut that shit out right now” your voice is firm, unyielding, because you can feel the mood he’s working himself into and you refuse to pander to it for even a moment. You draw yourself up so that you can look directly into his eyes and steel yourself against the way his eyes became so sweet and gentle when he was hurting because in the past, they had been your downfall. “You don’t frighten me Diego. Nothing about you scares me and I have absolutely no reservations about spending every day for the rest of my life with you.”
He doesn’t respond immediately, instead lifting you from his lap and depositing you not ungently onto the mattress so that he can stand and pace the small area beside his bed, dragging a hand through his short, dark hair, his bicep and chest flexing in a way that you dimly registered would be quite distracting if you weren’t so keenly focussed on Diego’s next words.
“I’m not worth this, (Y/N)!” He bursts out with quite suddenly “This risk! My life is nothing but violence and darkness and I am not worth you risking getting hurt!”
Your hand flies to your chest, pressing against the heart that you can feel breaking as the weight of his words settle onto your shoulders; he really, truly believes that he isn’t worth very much at all. You want to get up, to go to him, to say the perfect words that will make him realize how wrong he is, but you don’t quite know what they are. Diego is still pacing furiously beside the bed, hands on his bare hips, his shoulders growing tenser and tenser the longer you’re silent and you realize that whatever you are going to say you need to say it right now or else you are going to lose him. This sweet, strong, patient, unflinching miracle is going to walk out of your life and stay away because he thinks it’s what’s best for you. The thought grasps your chest in an icy fist as you raise yourself onto your knees and speak in a voice that is blessedly a lot calmer than you feel.
“Diego Hargreeves, you look me in the eye when I say this to you because I need this to be the last time we ever have this conversation.” Something in your tone reaches him, because he stops dead in his tracks, and even though he’s 10 feet from you his eyes bore straight into yours, his eyebrows furrowed over them as he listens to you.
“You are a miracle. You who have seen so much darkness and been treated with such indifference and who still has room in his heart to want to make the world better, make himself, better?” Your voice trembles and he lifts a hand as though he could reach out over the distance between you to comfort you, but his bare feet stay planted where he had stopped, waiting for you to finish speaking.
“I see you, Diego. I see all of you and I am not afraid. I see that you have darkness within, darkness that allows you to hurt people, that allows you to patrol the darkest corners of this city without fear…. But…. I see the light too, I see the way you watch Klaus, the way you are always by his side the moment he needs you. I see the pile of magazines you keep in your wardrobe with all of Allison’s covers, because I know you’re proud of her. I see the VHS recording of Luther’s takeoff, I see the framed photos of 5 and Ben, the copy of Vanyas book you swore you threw out. I see the way you look after your mom. Diego. I see all of you, that’s why I’m in love with you, that’s why I’m not going anywhe….”
“What did you say….?” His voice is quiet but his tone intense as he cuts across you.
“I’m not going anywhe…”
“No, not that, before that what did you say?” His eyes are less intense now, less sad, in fact if you were a gambler you’d say that the emotion they are full of is…… wonder? And suddenly it occurs to you that even though you fell head over heels for this man almost the moment you met him…… you’ve never told him, not really….
You sit back into your heels and take a deep breath, lifting your hands slightly as if to say ‘how could I not?’
“Diego Hargreeves. I am head over heels in love with you, there isn’t a single thing in the world I would change about you” at least, that’s what you had meant to say, the moment the ‘L’ word left your lips Diego moves so fast it’s almost instant the way he crosses the room. He takes your face between his hands and seizes your lips with his, he kisses you like he is starving and you are all that can sustain him, it is all you can do to hold onto him, cling onto the passion that pours out of him. You don’t even think about resisting as he lays you back gently, reverently amid the tousled sheets and shows you exactly how much he loves you in return.
It’s hours later that you lay curled into him, your head resting on his chest, his arms around you protectively and you ask, sleepily:
“Forever, D?”
It’s a few moments before he replies to you, his voice thick with emotion but clear and calm,
“I ain’t never letting you go, (Y/N)”
41 notes · View notes
mischiefandspirits · 5 years
Text
Rescue to the Rescue (2/3)
Peter puts E.D.I.T.H. to work on the Elemental’s case and something doesn’t seem to be adding up.
“No matches found under Quentin Beck. Expanding search.”
“That’s alright, he’s not exactly from around -”
“Match found in Stark Industries database.”
Part 1, Part 3, and Also on AO3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter tried to listen to Mr. Harrington explain about the Festival of Lights, but got distracted when something slammed into his legs, causing him to drop his suitcase.
“Nice one, Penis,” Flash snorted under his breath.
Peter looked down and his eyes widened. “M-Morgan! What the -- What are you doing here?” 
The five-year-old peaked up at him through messy brown locks. “I heard mommy was going to come see you so I snuck on the plane like you taught me.”
Peter immediately went pale and scooped her up. Oh God, Pepper was going to kill him.
Peter’s phone began to ring in his pocket, but he ignored it.
“I -- That’s not -- Morgan, super sneaky skills are supposed to be used to play hide-and-seek, not for stowing away on international flights!”
Morgan pouted. “But I wanted to see you,” she said with a whimper in her voice that Peter immediately knew was fake, but that didn’t stop him from feeling bad because he was a sucker. He knew he was, but he couldn’t help it. He was weak!
“Oh, milady, it’s okay. Just please don’t do that again, alright?”
Morgan nodded and tucked her face into his neck.
“Since when did he have a sister?” Brad asked and Peter looked up to see his classmates and teachers staring at him. All were gaping aside from Ned. He already knew Morgan, even if they’d never met, so he just looked starstruck as usual when around people Peter knew from his other life.
Morgan looked up. “I was born during the Blip.”
And that was not the right thing to say, Peter thought.
“I thought Parker was an orphan,” Flash said, glancing between the two.”
“Daddy adopted him,” the girl said before turning away from the strangers. “Can you take me to the carnival?”
It took Peter a moment to come back to his senses, so he completely missed the second part. “What? I’m no- Your dad didn’t adopt me!” he sputtered, his voice going high at the end.
Frowning, she pulled at a lock of her hair. “But Uncle Happy said daddy picked you up off the street.”
“Th-that’s just Happy being Happy! He didn’t mean it like that! Your dad just…” Peter scrambled for thought, glancing around. Everyone was staring at him with bemusement now aside from the still starstruck Ned as well as Brad, Flash, and MJ, who all looked amused at his humiliation through the boys’ thankfully seemed darker than MJ’s. Oh, and Dimitri, who was staring him and Morgan down in that creepy way he’d been staring at Peter since the rest stop, which really didn’t help anything. “He didn’t adopt me,” Peter finished pitifully.
“As good as,” a voice called and the group turned to see Pepper strutting into the room.
“Is that the Pepper Potts!?” Yasmin hissed, which was immediately followed by Betty’s, “Is that the Morgan Stark!?”
“I found Petey,” Morgan pointed out.
“I see that,” Pepper said, before giving Peter a look. “Super sneaky skills?”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Potts! I told her that was just for hide-and-seek! I swear I never meant for her to do something like this! It was just supposed to be a game! I’m so sorry! Please don’t kill me!”
Pepper chuckled and shook her head. “Calm down, Peter. I’m not mad, and I’m certainly not going to kill you.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Pepper rolled her eyes at his dramatics.
“What are you here for, then?”
Before she could respond, Flash stepped forwards. “Hello, Mrs. Stark. I -”
“Potts,” Pepper, MJ, and Peter corrected as one.
“What?” the bully said.
“Her last name is Potts, not Stark,” Peter explained.
Flash sent him a glare before turning back to Pepper. “I apologize, I was under the impression you had married Tony Stark during the Blip.”
Pepper gave him a blank look. “I did. I kept my name. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Pepper turned to Peter with a smile back in place. “Peter, honey, can I borrow you for a second?”
“Why would you want to talk to Parker?” Flash snorted.
“You are an idiot,” MJ pointed out blankly. “She just said Tony Stark practically adopted him, why wouldn’t she want to talk to him?”
“He’s got Morgan Stark on his hip calling him her big brother,” Ned added, sounding slightly out of breath.
“Dude, Parker was Stark’s kid!” Sebastian gasped. “The internship was real!”
“Do you think he ever got to touch the Iron Man suit?” Zach asked.
“Do you think he ever got to fly the Iron Man suit?” Josh shot back.
“Do you think he ever got to work on the Iron Man suit?” Zoha sighed dreamily. “I’d give anything to get my hands on that beautiful machine!”
“Dude, what if he’s, like, actually Stark’s kid?” Tyler said to Brad, who looked appalled at the idea. “What? Stark was a big playboy in the past, wasn’t he? Could have happened.”
“Oh my God, Peter, are you actually Tony Stark’s son?” Betty asked, and oh man, where did her phone come from? Was she recording this?
That snapped Peter out of his second mental shutdown in under a half-hour and he searched for help.
Ned was glancing between his girlfriend and best friend like he was both questioning his entire life and being presented with a life-size LEGO model of the Millenium Falcon.
MJ was just smiling smugly at him, basking in the chaos.
His teachers looked completely lost.
Dimitri… Wow, Peter didn’t think the guy’s death glare could get worse, but there it was. Yikes.
Pepper was completely ignoring the rowdy teens, walking over to the teachers.
Which left Morgan.
“Of course Petey is Daddy’s son.”
Why do all the people in Peter’s life treat him so?
“Wait, hold on, I’m not his son! I was just -- was his intern. That’s it! We just did… intern stuff together!” Peter stammered.
“Then why does she call you her brother? She was born during the Blip and would never have known you as his intern,” Betty pointed out.
“Mrs. Potts asked me to babysit a few times after we came back since she had to do a bunch of cleanup and school didn’t let us back in for a while so I wasn’t busy,” Peter tried to explain.
“And daddy used to tell me a bunch of stories about Petey!” Morgan chirped hugging him closer.
Judging by Betty’s smile, neither explanation worked. “Why did Mrs. Potts call you honey?”
“Mrs. Potts, help!” Peter called out, giving up.
The CEO gave her best PR face when Betty turned to her. “I can confirm that Peter neither shares blood with my late husband nor was he adopted into our family.” She gave Peter a wink and any relief he’d started to feel immediately fled him. “However, I can neither confirm nor deny that they shared a father-son relationship.”
As expected, that makes Betty more excited. “So you’ve done a paternity test for Peter and Mr. Stark?”
“Well, no,” Pepper said, smile fading slightly.
“Then you can’t be sure!”
“You do know I did have a dad before, right?” he muttered to Betty, but she ignored him.
“So there could be a chance that Peter is Mr. Stark’s!”
“No way, that’s impossible!” Flash shouted and Betty focused on him to argue her case.
Peter buried his face in Morgan’s hair as Pepper turned back to his teachers.
“Mr. Harrington, correct? Would you mind if I borrow Peter for a little bit? We won't leave the hotel; I have a small conference room set aside for us. I just need to speak to him about a project he's working on for Stark Industries. I would have done it over the phone, but it’s better done in person. As he said you would be here and I was passing over the area, I figured I could stop to see if I could speak with him. If you're worried about guardian permission, then I’d be happy to wait for you to give May a call.”
“N-no, that should be fine. He’s, uh, mentioned the internship before,” his teacher replied, sounding lost.
“Well, it’s less an internship by this point and more a part-time job. You don’t get as high up in R&D as he is in just the internship program. Thank you, all the same. Come on, Peter. I don’t want to take up too much of your vacation time.”
Peter groaned and grabbed his suitcase before following after her. As soon as they were out of earshot, he said, “Why did you tell them all that stuff?”
“It was all true, and you are far too humble to admit it,” Pepper hummed.
“Petey’s the best!” Morgan agreed with a nod.
“But Mr. Stark and I weren’t like that!”
“Peter, I know how much you looked up to him, and I also know how much he adored you. He left you E.D.I.T.H. after all, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg, though I will make sure you’re the proper age before you receive the rest of your inheritance. Honestly, giving E.D.I.T.H. to a teenager!”
Inheritance!? The glasses were more than enough! What else could there be?
“The-the internship, that was just because I was Spider-Man. You didn’t have to make a big deal of it.”
Pepper gave him a smile and set her hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me, the Avengers were the Avengers and out of all of them, only Bruce ever came anywhere close to having your level of clearance, and he has seven PhDs. You are so smart, Peter. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You earned your right to be in Tony’s labs.”
Peter blushed, then blushed harder when she pressed a kiss on his forehead.
“And you’re also family, so I’ve got to tease you sometimes. Now come on, someone’s waiting for us.”
Peter pouted as she continued on and Morgan giggled, patting his face.
“Oh hush, you,” he whispered. He tossed her up and caught her before running after Pepper, the girl laughing the whole time.
Pepper smiled as she held the door open for them and Peter went to send her one back, but froze when he spotted a vaguely familiar woman inside the room. When Pepper opened the door, she had been fiddling mindlessly with the folder in front of her, boredly looking around the fancy conference room, but she immediately jumped to her feet as she spotted them.
“Mr. Parker,” she greeted, pushing her yellow-tinted glasses onto the top of her head. “Nice to meet you again.”
“I’m sorry, have we met?” he asked, stepping inside just enough for Pepper to follow and shut the door.
“Very briefly, years ago. More years for me than you, as it were,” she explained with a laugh. She shot him a smirk when Pepper had to push him closer to the table, but didn’t comment. “I’m the one Mr. Stark contacted to help with signing and classifying the modified version of the Sokovia Accords that were made up for you, given your age and responsibility levels.”
“Oh, right! Ms. Draw? No, wait…”
“Jessica Drew, but you can just call me Jess.”
“Peter, but I guess you already knew that, huh?” he chuckled, shifting Morgan to one side so he could offer the woman his hand. “So, not to be rude or anything, really, but why are you here?”
“Morgan, why don’t you go play while we talk business?” Pepper took the girl and set her down, waving her towards a small table set up in the corner with a tea set serving a mix of stuffed toys and superhero action figures.
“Can we go to the carnival after?” she asked, giving Peter wide eyes.
“We’ll see,” Pepper said before he could respond. “You’re still in trouble for sneaking around, remember?”
Morgan pouted, but clearly knew it would have no effect on her mother and marched over to her tea set.
With her distracted, the three sat down and Ms. Drew opened the folder. “Alright, Pepper filled me in on your theory. I agree that it’s got some credibility so I did a little digging at her request.” From the folder, she pulled out a picture similar to the one E.D.I.T.H. had shown him of Dr. Rinehart and set it in front of him. “So this is what our mystery man looks like under the fishbowl, right?”
“Basically. He’s younger in this, and not as scruffy.”
Ms. Drew nodded and placed more photos in front of him. “Do you recognize any of these people?”
Peter looked over the pictures, but none stood out. “I don’t think so. Who are they?”
“They are former Stark Industries employees. Some of them quit, the others were fired, but they all hold unhidden grudges against either the company or its former owner. They were also all in Mexico during the catastrophe in Ixtenco, which my sources have linked to our mystery man, before traveling to various parts of southern Europe right before a mysterious cyclone hit Morocco.”
Peter frowned, looking closer at the pictures. “Mr. Fury mentioned they’d defeated two of the elementals in Mexico and Morocco.”
“I think I recognize a few of them. I’m guessing you think they could be working together,” Pepper stated, glaring at a balding man in particular.
“If they are, they’re certainly doing a fair job of covering their tracks. None of them arrived in Mexico at the same time or town. Some of them even arrived weeks apart from the others. And when they left, they did that separately as well, most from the same places they arrived in. Their arrival in Europe was a lot closer together timeline-wise, but still spread out physically. If I hadn’t been looking specifically for something like this, I probably never would have even noticed.”
“So Mr. Beck -- I mean Dr. Rinehart -- got together with a bunch of people who hate Mr. Stark and decided to trash a bunch of cities,” Peter summarized, looking up at the women.
“That’s the theory I’m working with right now,” Ms. Drew said, nodding. “Still don’t have motive, though. If I’m right about their hatred of Stark binding them together, why fake attacks and play the hero instead of going after Stark Industries or his family?”
“Maybe he wanted to get close to us?” Pepper offered. “Morgan and I might not be Avengers, but Peter is kind of a part-time Avenger or something. Not to mention we still keep in contact with most of the others -- especially Rhodey who’s basically family -- and Stark Industries still lends aid to the group.”
Peter tried to butt in that he wasn’t really family so he shouldn’t be considered motive, but Ms. Drew steamrolled over him. “You think he could be playing the hero to get an in with the Avengers? That would make more sense, especially since he’s got Fury involved and the man was the one that started the whole initiative. And being an Avenger would make it stupidly easy to take whatever revenge this group might have in mind.”
“He could ruin Iron Man,” Peter said, his thoughts flying back to how Zemo had turned the Avengers against one another.
“We won’t let that happen,” Pepper said. She had fire in her eyes when Peter met her gaze.
“Technically, we still don’t have proof that any of this is even true,” Ms. Drew pointed out, gathering up all the pictures. “But we’ve got a solid theory, one backed up by means, motive, and eyewitness testimony. I’ll talk to a few of my old colleagues in MI6 and some friends in Europol. If we bring a few of these guys in for questioning, hopefully we can get something a little more solid.” She then dropped her glasses back over her eyes and leaned towards Peter. “Now, tell me everything you know about what’s supposed to happen here.”
“I don’t know that much. According to Mr. Beck’s story, the elementals were all attacking our earth in the same coordinates that they attacked his, so Mr. Fury knew the last elemental, the fire one, was going to attack here. Mr. Beck also said the fire one is the most dangerous since it’s the one that destroyed his world.”
Ms. Drew scowled. “Considering how much damage the other three did, I’m not looking forward to seeing what this more dangerous one is going to do. Is there a way for you to get more information?”
Peter tugged at the bottom of his shirt. “I could ask Mr. Fury if he knows anything else, but Pepper said to keep away from him and Mr. Beck might figure out we’re digging around.”
“Good call, on both your parts. The less we let on we’re digging into Beck or Rinehart or whoever this mystery guy is, the better,” Ms. Drew agreed. “And Fury can go f-jump off a bridge for dragging a teenager into this, especially against his will.”
Peter’s lips twitched up at the near swear and Pepper scowled.
“You can call him Mysterio,” Peter offered. “That’s what my class has been calling him. It’s Italian.”
“Works for me,” she shrugged before shooing him off. “Alright, kid, if that’s all you got for me, then I’ll get to work. You enjoy your vacation.”
“Carnival?” Morgan chirped and popped out from her hiding spot under the table, causing her mother and Ms. Drew to jump.
Peter smiled and scooped her up. Standing up and grabbing his suitcase, he turned to Pepper with a smile. “I don’t mind taking her off your hands, Mrs. Potts, if that’s okay. It’s the least I can do after teaching her how to sneak around.”
Pepper looked between the two and sighed. “Alright, we’re going to be here for the night anyway and I’d like to give Jess a hand. Honestly, I’d prefer to get you both out of here right away, but that would be too suspicious, so please, just be careful.”
“We’ll stay out of trouble,” Peter agreed and Pepper snorted.
“Oh, I have no delusions you’ll get into trouble, just be safe about it.”
Peter pouted as he began backing away. “We’re not that bad.”
“Yes you are, you get it from Tony. Take care and have fun.”
Deciding to ignore the first part, he just nodded.
“Oh, and I’ll have F.R.I.D.A.Y. put some money on your card so you can get you both a few things while you’re out.”
“That’s not -”
“Think of it as payment for babysitting.”
“Alright, I guess,” Peter said, knowing she wouldn’t back down. “We shouldn’t be out too late.” He turned to the other woman. “Bye, Ms. Drew. It was nice seeing you again. Thanks for the help.”
“Jess, please, Peter. And anytime, just give me a call. Pepper has my number.”
“Okay, Ms. Drew!”
He slipped out the door to the sound of her groan before swinging Morgan up onto his shoulders.
The girl let out a shriek before burying one of her hands into his hair and pointing forward. “Onwards!” she laughed.
Peter obliged, tromping into the lobby with an extra bounce in his step that left her giggling.
“Mr. Parker?” a heavily accented voice called and the two turned to see one of the hotel staff waiting for him. “Your class has already gone up to their rooms. Here is your keycard.”
“Thank you.” Peter took the small envelope with a grateful smile and the woman nodded before heading back towards the reception desk.
“Alright, milady, stairs or elevator?”
“Stairs!”
“As you wish!”
Ned was waiting for him outside his door when they reached the room listed on the envelope. “Dude, that was awesome! I can’t believe Pepper Potts seriously just showed up on our trip to tell our class that the Tony Stark was your dad! What is your life!?”
Peter groaned and went into the room. “Come on, I was trying to forget that happened. It was so embarrassing!”
“Are you kidding? It was awesome! I think Tyler and Sebastian are still convinced he was literally your dad, like biologically! We’re going to be so popular when we get back! Everyone’s been going crazy! Good crazy! Well, except Flash. Oh, and Brad’s not exactly happy either, but he hasn’t said anything about it, unlike Flash. I think Flash is in denial. I heard him muttering about how you must have paid them to pretend to be Pepper and Morgan.” Ned’s eyes widened as he looked up at Morgan as if only now realizing she was perched on his best friend’s shoulders. “Dude, are you babysitting right now? That’s so cool!”
“Baby, where are you?” Betty called from the hall.
“I’m helping Peter babysit Morgan Stark!”
Peter rolled his eyes and set Morgan down on his bed before pulling open his suitcase to find something to wear to the carnival.
He spotted a bundle of black fabric on the room’s desk, but ignored it.
If you’re curious, I imagine Katie McGrath playing the role of Jessica Drew. IDK why I made her British. It just seemed fitting.
As for why I had her show up: Honestly I just needed an agent and chose her for the fun of it when I realized she worked for both S.H.E.I.L.D. and S.W.O.R.D. in the comics. I do have a vague idea of her backstory in this context though.
6 notes · View notes
belphegor1982 · 6 years
Text
Got tagged by @kikabennet! 
when did you last sing to yourself?
Yesterday, since I’ve currently been awake for an hour and a half. Might have been either “Bonnie Portmore” or “Here’s a Health (To The Company)”. I’ve been putting a lot of shanties and pirates/sailing-related films soundtracks on to draw to (and hopefully write to) lately. (EDIT: Ooops - yep, wrote that yesterday around 11AM, so make that this afternoon; I hummed while I drew along with the first 3 Pirates of the Caribbean soundtracks. It’s so darn hummable.)
if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?
Who was the Man in the Iron Mask!? (I know better than to ask personal/family truths :S Besides, I’m curious.)
(putting the rest under a cut...)
what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?
Being able to speak (mostly) and read/write English fluently.
what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?
When my mum was in the hospital with my newborn baby sister, my dad would take me see them, and before that we’d stop for ice cream and a ride on the merry-go-round. That’s what comes to mind when I read “first happy memory”.
if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?
I’d go see my family and friends who live far away a lot more, and eat a lot more of my favourite things.
do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?
I don’t, really ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
describe a person close to your life in detail
The Best Beloved is tallish (1,77m - that’s… 5′10?), with dark brown hair, green eyes, skin that tans easily even in winter, and glasses. …and that’s as much detail as I’m comfortable putting.
do you feel you had a happy childhood?
On the whole, yes. Could’ve done without the bullying at school and the undermining of self-confidence at home, though.
when did you last cry in front of another person?
Don’t remember, so it must be at least a fortnight.
pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them
My dad, who used to sail with a compass. I don’t think he knows much about constellations, but he’s always willing to share memories, even if sometimes he doesn’t remember he’s told them multiple times.
would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?
Probably. I shouldn’t, though. Strangers being by definition strangers, you never know where that information is going and how it might be used (possibly against you).
when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?
We both were tired and ended up going to bed around half past midnight, so no 3AM conversation, but my friend Sandrine last week.
if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?
…I have no idea? I think I’d concentrate really hard on not dying :S
what is your opinion on brown eyes?
Why would it matter tho I have brown eyes and for the longest time I thought they were boring. It doesn’t help that brown hair and eyes are basically the default where I grew up/live. Then I grew up and moved on.
pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally
George Bernard Shaw’s “Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh.” Life is complicated, all about balance between extremes and absolutes. Don’t trust people who tell you the world is grim and serious just because they are. And while getting the giggles at a funeral/wake is inappropriate, it doesn’t mean you’re heartless.
what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?
Wait, What
what would you do with one billion dollars?
I’d keep half a dozen millions for me (car and house debts), my family and my friends, and give the rest to social services, healthcare, and public services in general.
are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?
Ehhh… It’s complicated. I tend to hold grudges when I can remember why, but I rarely do something about it. On the whole I’m pretty “live and let live”.
would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?
Neither, really. I’m too soft for punk, but pastel’s not really my thing either.
how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain
I’m too much of a wuss to even consider getting either, but they look great on other people. When I get a spot on my tongue I wonder how people with a tongue piercing manage to keep it, though. It’s very distracting.
do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?
As a rule, no, but if I work or if I’m invited somewhere I’ll throw on a bit of eyeliner and lipstick. (I should raid my makeup drawer, really, some of my lipstick cases are almost 20 years old and you should NOT do that.)
talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way
In high school I saw a psychologist (junior high was NOT a happy time and the bad stuff just overflowed at one point) and went to an outpatient clinic every Wednesday. They had lots of activities, like painting on silk, various art stuff, and a band, and I loved that band. I was one of the only ones who’d request songs to sing in English. The guitarist introduced me to the Beatles’ “Something”, which I didn’t know, and to this day when I hear this lovely song I think of that guy who had a great smile, a great sense of humour and a great moustache (think George Harrison on Let It Be) who helped me get better.
list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel
Not to brag, but back in my uni days I did go to a number of them - K’s Choice, Coldplay, King Khan And His Shrines, M, Tom McRae are among the ones I remember. And a couple months ago I went to a rock concert with three bands one after the other. I love live music, it feels amazing. It courses through my body, makes me grin like a maniac, and want to jump and flail around just to vent the excess energy. And all this without a single drop of beer! (can’t stand the stuff :P)
who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?
I’d love a letter from the national loto that says “here’s a giant check even though you haven’t scratched a ticket in years” :P More seriously, I LOVE receiving letters from my Internet friends.
do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?
I don’t really have a workspace. I have a desk, which has the desktop screen, keyboard, mouse/graphic tablet, and a whole lot of mess of papers, pens, boxes, and stuff. I can use either that desk or my laptop in my armchair.
what is your night time routine?
Finish watching the movie/tv show, look at Tumblr a bit (and/or stuff on the laptop, like TV Tropes), go to bed, read a bit on my Kindle, kiss the Best Beloved good night, switch off the lights, and try to sleep.
what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?
Anything about my intimate life, thanks.
if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?
I experimented a bit with henna back in the day, but generally I just have haircuts (I have too little hair to risk harming it). I’d like some reddish highlights one day, though.
pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?
Eehhh... I’d rather stay at home and chill :P Okay, I’d take the Best Beloved and my friends Melody, Nico, Sandrine, and Aldric, and head to Marquèze. (wish their website had an English version, it’d be better.) It’s an ecomuseum about local life in the early 1800s/early 1900s, with preserved traditional houses and people showing skills like dyeing fabric, shepherding, making flour (there’s a watermill) and all sorts of cakes and bread and snacks, and an entire day isn’t too much to visit everything.
name three wishes and why you wish for them
I wish:
I had a decently-paying job from home,
my friend Sandrine’s mum were/will be all right (don’t ask),
we had the house extension built already
what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up
We didn’t have Halloween when I was growing up, it really only started to be a thing in earnest a decade or two ago. Although... One time when we lived in Bordeaux, the Best Beloved and I were invited to a housewarming party on Halloween, so people would wear costumes. I went as a witch, with a long black skirt, long-sleeve thing with black lace (-ish), long black and white wig, and of course black lipstick and lots of black around the eyes. The Best Beloved had made a cloak, a scythe of sorts with cardboard and foil, and had a scary death head mask on. We didn’t have a car and the friend lived in Saint-Médard (which is relevant), so we had to ask around the bus drivers for which bus went there.
So picture the two of us dressed as we were, mask and all, well after dark, asking around for the “S&M” bus. Yep :P (People stared at us during the ride, and unlike the Best Beloved, I didn’t have the luxury of a mask to hide my laughter...)
what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?
The only time I got slightly tipsy I went a little pink and apparently talked a little louder than usual. I’ve never got drunk (too afraid of stomachache later) or high (it took my mum two heart attacks to quit smoking and I’m wondering if she hasn’t taken it up again, I can’t hold a cigarette, tobacco or otherwise).
what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?
Hurt people, probably. If I wouldn’t do it for ten dollars I wouldn’t do it for a million - if you agree to one or the other the rest is just haggling over price.
if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?
I don’t think I have the right face shape for that - my face is too round, longer hair suits me better.
what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?
I live 126 km (78 miles) from the nearest Starbucks, when I walk by one the queue is huge, and the prices are well beyond my range :> But I’d trust the Best Beloved. He’d still ask me, though.
what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?
Being happy and/or stress-free. Also the oncoming Papa Bear Awards nominations in a week and the Eurovision Song Context coming up in May :D
Tagging @radarsteddybear, @rose-of-pollux, @truxi-twice, @myrling-art, @iorvethscommando, and @toooldforthisbutstill! :o)
3 notes · View notes
rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 6 years
Text
September Song (2/3)
Tumblr media
I’m sorry @kitten-wrath that this took so long, but I do hope you like it. @hoodoo12 @xerxezra thanks for brainstorming with me. Also, Ice Cream Rick belongs @porkchop-ao3. References to the flowers can be found here (The Language Of Flowers) and pizza rolls here (Sick Day)
Also, special thanks go to @her-victori for reading a majority of my fics in a short span of time. You Rock! As well to random anons who leave me sweet words in my ask box.
If you haven't read the first part of this fic then here's the link. (Read Part1 Here)
In this fic the reader tries to be more reserved and mature for Rick, but what will he think?
______
Chapter 2: These Precious Days
The mom and pop ice cream parlor which could be found at the edge of town offered over twenty flavors and twice as many topping options. Rick thought you'd prefer this quiet atmosphere over the crowd that would've surrounded Ice Cream Ricks truck in the Citadel; he was right. Though it really was a shame since Ice Cream Rick was actually pretty nice. After ordering, you two sat by the window with the best view of a lonely backroad and a white GMC truck.
“I-I-I like that you went for the rainbow jimmies.” Rick commented as he popped a mini gummy bear into his mouth.
“Hmm? Yeah, I like the texture.”
Which was true, but it wasn't the whole truth. You loved sprinkles on just about any dessert they could be placed on. They were fun, colorful, and your dad's favorite topping. They reminded you of good times. You continued. “And they're a classic. Wouldn't you agree?”
“I-I do. Would you say that y-your favorite flavor?”
Savoring the flavor of your chocolate ice cream, you nodded. “Yeah.”
Smiling softly, he seemed to be ruminating on this information, before storing it away and eating a spoonful of his pistachio ice cream. After a little while, he managed to get a bit of it on the side of his mouth, which made you giggle. And because old habits die hard, you picked up a napkin and wiped his face clean. Under your fingertips, his skin had that masculine roughness that came from constant shaving. Of course, you were familiar with it, but these slight reminders that came about by chance never failed to amaze you.
However, you were quick to pull your hand back because he wasn't a fan of public displays of affection, though it seemed to have the opposite effect, with him reaching out and placing your hand back on his cheek, and leaning into it. “I'm glad y-you were able to come with me today.”
Seeing as the shop owner was in the back room, you relaxed a little. “I am too.”
Rick was always a little funny when he got sentimental, which was why it didn't surprise you too much when his eyes bore through you as he said. “Me encanta estar c-contigo.”
“Rick,” you began, wanting to let this facade go and declare every single word of affection your heart felt inclined to say, but just as soon as you thought you were going to crack, you restrained yourself, and simply said. “your ice cream is going to melt.”
Several beats of silence passed, and he acknowledged what you had said, but he went on. “You - I-I sometimes wish I could carry you in my pocket, and have you look after me all the time, but th-that's silly isn't it? It's not realistic, and that w-would be selfish.”
“If it's you, then I don't think it is. While it wouldn't necessarily be practical to miniaturize me and carry me around, isn't the beauty of a relationship knowing that you're always on someone's mind and that they are out there somewhere caring and thinking about you?”
“Certainly, but what I-I meant to say is that it'd be nice if this was our life. If I could keep y-you and if you and me ugh - all th-the time…we - if we….” he faltered, fixing his eyes on something else in the room.
“You don't mean eating ice cream do you?”
With a sigh, he relinquished the hold he had on your hand, “N-no.” and continued to eat his ice cream; resigned, and slightly embarrassed. You couldn't help but feel a slight disappointment. It's not like he wanted to say the magic words. Right?
________
After ice cream, you two visited the bookstore on the corner of Kinder St and Lavue Ave; which had not only a coffee shop but a toy store connected to it. As soon as one entered into it, you were met with the latest best sellers, books on travel and wellness, as well as souvenirs; it was one of few places that didn't bother you if it was cramped. To your left next to the window were those mint boxes which said Adventure Awaits, and it filled you with gladness as picked one up; thinking of little things you'd put in it after all the mints were gone. For his part, Zeta-7 seemed to know exactly what he was going for, disappearing in the back where all the used books were. Not knowing whether to follow or look around, you just did as you pleased.
Past the Keychain holder, above the box of mini hands, you found a Mister Rogers mug. You loved that wholesome old man who used to teach lessons and play with puppets on PBS; Rick reminded you of him too. On the label, it said that when you added hot water to the mug, Mister Rogers would change from a suit jacket into his cardigan. Seeing as Zeta-7 hadn't returned yet, you decided to buy it and continued to look around until he soon returned with an older book in hand. “I-I-I hope I hadn't kept you waiting long.”
Facing the bookshelf, pulling out books that you were mildly interested in, you answered. “I knew you would show up eventually.”
Noticing the stack of books you had, he asked sweetly. “M-m-mi corazón, do you want me t-to hold those books for you? They look a-a little heavy.”
You weren't sure how long you could keep up this facade of being mature and not melting into a puddle everytime he said things like that, with him being as darling as he was. Nonetheless, you nodded and he lightened the burden on your arms.
“Wow,” he brightened. “I-I didn't know you liked Alexandre Dumas.” And picking out another book, he wondered. “Have y-you ever read this?”
“The Man In the Iron Mask? No,” you admitted sadly. “but when I was in high school I did read about a third of The Count of Monte Cristo. I even have a postcard that my old English teacher sent me from Europe that had a picture of one of the buildings that was used in the movie.”
“That's s-s-so cool. Do - do you enjoy classic literature?”
Wholeheartedly, you replied. “Isn't it the best kind?”
“I-I-I don't know,” he softened. “but I don't know what I'd do without them.”
You thought of his home library then, with its eclectic mixture of languages, colors, and topics, and it made you feel warm in your soul. “If your home library tells me anything, it's that you have a healthy appetite for books.”
He glanced at your lips after you said this, but made no attempt to follow whatever thought which might've come to mind. Instead, you two carried on a lengthy discussion on books, how many were a social commentary of the time period, and how they influenced the world you lived in. For once you didn't have to pretend you knew something you didn't, cause you did know. Quite intimately in fact. And within the small spaces between shelves and bodies, where you'd normally feel claustrophobic, you were safe amongst all the friends you had yet to meet amongst the pages, and with Zeta-7 whose warm words and tall body shielded you from the curious eyes of the cashier.
_______________
A stack of books sat quietly in the back seat of his car. Crickets chirped, and there were random feral cats here and there, but there was only you and him as far as you were concerned. September Song by Willie Nelson played on the car radio as he led you into a natural waltz next to the town lake, and moonlight reflected in his eyes. If you hadn't been so afraid of drowning, maybe you would've preferred to dance on the dock, but like this, it felt right.
Oh, it's a long long while
From May to December
But the days grow short
When you reach September
When the autumn weather
Turns leaves to flame
One hasn't got time
For the waiting game
With your head resting on his chest, he hummed along to the melody. More than once you heard a sniffle but assumed it was just Zeta-7 caught up in the moment again.
Oh the days dwindle down
To a precious few. ..
September, November. ..
And these few precious days
I'll spend with you.
These precious days
I'll spend with you.
You thought every day spent with him was precious, and you had to admit that you weren't sure at the beginning of your relationship if it would've worked out, but you were glad that the both of you took a chance, and had been pleasantly surprised ever since. And after all this time, now that it was the fall again, you wondered what the next year and the year after that would be like; the possibilities are endless. However, your train of thought was broken when Zeta-7 stopped dancing and stood there; covering his face, wanting to disappear.
“Rick?”
“I'm - I'm sorry, but I-I-I-I can't do this.”
“Can't do what?”
“I-I-I can't pretend that everything's o-okay. Something's th-the matter isn't it?”
“No there isn't.” you denied.
“Then why are y-y-you so quiet? Are w-we breaking up? Are you - are you leaving me?”
You literally wanted to smack yourself for being such an idiot. “No! Why would you think that?”
Using his phone, he paused the music and passed a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself. “Y-y-you haven't been yourself all evening. I thought for a moment that maybe th-things were alright back in the bookstore, but you - I know y-you were holding back. I know how much you love books, and writing is y-y-y-your passion, but you were hesitant in sharing your opinions on either subject. M-mi corazón,” he pleaded, the lines about his forehead and mouth deepening. “please b-be honest with me. Is this it?”
“No, it's not.”
Your plan, which you thought has been working went horribly wrong. So much for trying to act like an adult for once. Man, you only wanted to entice him, which you somewhat succeeded, but because of your stupid games, you'd led him to believe that you were unsatisfied with your relationship. If anything, you were unsatisfied with how you handled this. “Believe me Ricky, you haven't done anything wrong. In fact,” you sighed, your chest aching from the bloom of anxiety. “you've only been sweet and charming. But I….oh, I was only trying to impress you.”
“Huh? Wh-what?”
“Exactly. Whatever I thought I'd accomplish, it…..I only managed to mess it up. Again. You probably wouldn't get it,” Or maybe he would, but you weren't feeling like yourself. “but sometimes I feel like all you did was pull me out of my little bubble so I could wreak havoc. I'm not any different from hundreds of other versions of me, am I? Cause, if I'm like them, then how did I end up with you? How did I get so lucky to be with someone so wonderful? I hope they are happy because I am with you.”
With a hand pressed over his heart, a single tear made its way down his cheek. “M-me too. I'm so happy with you.”
“Somehow, despite all my inadequacies, you want me. I mean, is it stupid to believe that I just wanted to be different from all those other copies? That I just wanted you to think I was mature?”
Zeta-7 looked at you with a wistful hope in his eyes.“No, it's - it's not stupid. You - you did that f-for me?”
“Who else dear honey man of mine? Maybe it can't be helped and I'll just be what I am,” you confessed. “but for a moment I wanted to be different. So I gave myself the look and didn't overreact. And most of all, kept my mouth shut so you wouldn't get bored of my rambling. I know I talk too much.”
“N-no, that's not - have I led you t-to believe you weren't good enough?”
“Not on purpose, but I can't help but feel that way sometimes. We both know I'm not that special. I mean, the only impressive thing I've ever done is eat 37 pizza rolls, and not kill the flowers you gave me. I'm so sorry,” you cried, “I'm sorry you got stuck with an idiot.”
He pulled you in for a tight embrace, smoothing out your hair. “D-don't ever say that.” he cooed. “You're - you're clever, lovely, and always give me something t-t-to smile about.”
“Anyone can do that.”
Pulling back a little, he gave your shoulder a squeeze and softened. “N-no, not at all. Y-you give away dreams, smiles, and kindness. You're reliable, and I-I can trust you. And there is no one in the universe th-that could compare t-to you when it comes to being the perfect woman. If anything, I'm th-the defect here.”
“No, you're perfect Ricky.”
Placing a lock of hair behind your ear, he continued. “I'm glad y-you think so, but this isn't a-about me. You - you dressed up today, in a-a elegant dress that I'd n-never seen before,” and pressing a kiss behind your ear, he whispered with a little gleam of pride in his eyes.. “wearing the perfume I-I-I made you. Smelling like a-a dream.”
Again, how anyone considered this charmer a doofus you'd never know. “I had been saving it for a special occasion.”
“Everyday with you is - is special.”
“Oh Rick. That's…thank you.”
Pointing at your feet, “And I noticed that you're closer t-t-to my height today, but your feet must be hurting by now. Would y-you like to take them off?”
Oh, your feet were screaming. And now that you weren't pretending, you slipped out of your shoes which made you lose about four inches. Picking up your shoes and shoes and dusting them off, he continued. “That must feel better. I-I-I had to wear heels for a case once. It ugh - it's not practical when y-y-you have to run.”
“Right? I don't see how other women do it, cause I can't. I'm not even sure why I own them. I should just burn those things.”
You'd say it was half relief, half joy that made him laugh wholeheartedly at this, and you didn't see how it could be so funny. You poked him and pouted, and he delighted in this. “See?” he chuckled, looking at you in that funny way he did from time to time.
“See what?”
“This. This is th-the girl I fell in love with,” he stated matter of factly. “the one who likes t-to be comfortable, speaks her mind and prefers those jeans with th-the rip on the side. Not to mention those graphic t-shirts. Or cute pj's.”
Your breath caught a little at this confession. How could the smartest man in the universe adore an impertinent person like you? Maybe the same way you could love the smartest man; you just do. In your girlish voice, you said. “I only wanted you to be proud of me.”
Holding you a fraction tighter, he pressed a light kiss to your temple and chuckled sweetly. “Y-you already do princess. Today y-you made an effort for me, and that's impressive, but honestly, I want you t-t-to be comfortable and dress up how y-you like. You as yourself is what impresses me, because you have s-s-so much spirit, and I - that's what makes y-you gorgeous.”
This time you didn't even try to hide your blush.
“Oh Rick, hearing you say that really does make me feel silly. Why did I do this to myself? What was I thinking?”
“I believe y-you're still trying to figure it all out like the rest of us, and I can't get mad at you for th-that because you're wonderfully human. You had good intentions, and th-that's what counts.”
“Can you forgive me?”
“I al-already have.”
TBC
23 notes · View notes
tonydadisbestdad · 7 years
Text
Dad to the Rescue
Peter ParkerxReader
Dad!Tony Stark
Word Count: 2,870
Request from Anon: Tony’s daughter is kidnapped, and Peter hears about it. Tony tells him to stay out of it, but Peter has to save her! Peter finds her, but gets caught too, which leads Tony to save them both!
Tumblr media
It all happened so fast. There were too many people. It was all a scrambled mess. You just wanted to see the ball drop in Time Square with your friends. Not from a t.v., not from a private viewing spot, but from the ground. You wanted that experience, you wanted to feel like you were normal for once.
Much to your surprise, he agreed. So, you did everything right, in disguise of course. You showed up early, you found a good spot to see everything, you were so excited. It was just you, your friends, and well Happy of course, you couldn’t get away with him not being there.
You were three seconds away from Happy New Year, there was a sting in your neck, the world spun as you started to fall back. You felt arms grab you, as you slowly turned to look at Happy, you realized the man holding you up wasn’t him. You tried to call out for your friends who were yelling about New Year, or for Happy, but you found yourself unable to speak. You couldn’t even see Happy, last thing you could remember was hoping he was okay.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Peter couldn’t believe he’d heard what what he just did. “What?” He asked the unidentified caller on the other end of the line.
“You heard, Spider-Man,” The computerized voice said. “You have one hour, or she dies, and remember no suit.”
The call disconnected.
He pulled his phone back and stared at it in horror.
It took only a moment for the panic to set in. Whoever this was, there was no way they actually had you. It had to be a trap. That didn’t stop him quickly changing into his suit, throwing his his clothes in his backpack and climbing out the window. “Karen, call Mr. Stark.”
“Right away,” she responded, and immediately it started to ring.
He swung from one building to the next as he waited for you to answer Mr. Stark to answer. He didn’t want to call you just in case you really were taken, he didn’t want whoever took you to think he didn’t believe him.
Tony was surprised when he saw that Peter was calling him, so he stepped away from his annual New Year party to answer. “Hey kid, Happy New Year,” he greeted.
“M-Mr. Stark, where’s Y/N?” Peter asked, quickly. He barely dodged a couple kids banging pots and pans on the sidewalk when he swung a little too low to the ground. He wasn’t focused much on his web slinging, since he was so worried.
Tony frowned, a sense of dread settled in his stomach. “She’s with Happy and her friends watching the ball drop in the square.”
“Are you sure?” Peter asked, he knew he sounded desperate.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Tony started, “call Y/N.”
She immediately started to call you. Obviously, ignoring your dad’s calls was never a thing.
He could easily force the call to be answered, and usually he wouldn’t, but under extreme circumstances he would. After the third ring, he told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to do just that.
“Sir, her phone won’t accept the push through,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed him.
Tony really didn’t like that, the only way that was possible is if your battery was removed, something that’s not easy to do, or if it was destroyed. “Peter, what’s going on?” He demanded, more than asked.
“I-I don’t know,” Peter told him quickly. “I-I got this call and-and something’s wrong. I gotta-”
Tony had an incoming call from Happy and didn’t hesitate to accept it.
“Tony,” Happy said, quickly. “I-I don’t- I don’t know what happened. E-everything was fine,” He was just managing to drag himself out of the alleyway he’d been dumped in. He rubbed at his neck. “Then, everything just went black. I-I don’t have a visual on Y/N’s tracer.”
Peter could hear Happy just fine, his stomach tightened, just like Tony’s did.
“I gotta go get her back, Mr. Stark,” Peter said quickly.
“No, Peter, you tell me everything that happened. Happy, get back to the tower. F.R.I.D.A.Y. get everyone out, now.” Tony directed.
“Yes sir,” Happy and F.R.I.D.A.Y. both agreed.
Peter however, didn’t. He was still swinging, not to the tower, but to where whoever this was wanted him to go. He took a deep breath. “This person called me, they were using a voice changer. They said they had Y/N, told me if I wanted to get her back that I had to meet with them, without the suit. Sir, they-they threatened to kill her if I don’t get there within the hour. I /have/ to.”
“No, Parker, you get your ass here, now.” tony stated. “This isn’t a game, we’ll get her back, after we come up with a plan, understand? You can’t just go, especially alone, there’s no guarantee-”
“There’s nothing else we can do, I have to show up alone or she’s going to die!”
“Dammit Peter! Listen to me!” Tony raged. He was a mess. He couldn’t believe this happened. He should have never agreed to letting you do something so dangerous like be in Times Square at the busiest time of the year.
“I’m sorry, but no,” Peter told him. “We have no guarantee that if we do come up with a different plan that it won’t make things worse! I’m going. Karen end call,” He commanded.
Tony couldn’t believe it, here, you were in such a dangerous situation and Peter wasn’t thinking rationally. He tried to get Peter back on the line but Peter was close to his destination and quickly dropped into an alley to change. He went to where he was told to go.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Peter woke with a jump. His head was pounding, like his senses had been extra overloaded. The light above his head was too bright, he had to close his eyes. He tried to move but found himself restrained. He didn’t know how someone had managed to pull one over on him this bad, but he was going to make sure whoever did this paid.
Then he remembered the real reason he was here. He quickly looked to both his sides, hoping wherever he was, you’d be there too. With all his bad luck he was surprised that whoever had abducted the two of you put you in the same room.
Your head was drooped forward, and you were also restrained, just not as much as Peter was. Whoever they were dealing with knew Peter would be able to get out restraint’s like yours.
“Y/N,” Peter whispered, hoping you were okay. “Y/N,” he said, just a bit louder. He could hear your heart beating, so at least he knew you were alive.
“Comfortable Mr. Parker?” That same voice from the phone asked.
Peter looked around quickly. He spotted a camera in one of the corners of the room. He glared hard at it. “What do you want?”
“All in due time, Mr. Parker.” The voice said through the speaker.
Peter really regretted not taking your dad’s help.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Tony tracked Peter’s suit, and of course he was in the very opposite direction of the tower. He moved as quickly as he could to get there, but he must have been too late. Once he located Peter’s suit, he pulled up any surveillance video’s he could from the surrounding area. He was going to find the two of you. His own life depended on it.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/
You didn’t know what was going on when you woke. Your head felt stuffed and your limbs heavy and stiff. The last thing you remembered was your friends and plenty of other people screaming about New Year. So what happened? Why were you so out of it? You pulled your head up and pried your eyes open. It took a few tries, but when you finally managed to, panic set in.
This wasn’t happening to you.
“Y/N,” Peter said, slightly eager, he was so glad you were awake. “Thank God, are you alright?”
You were surprised to see Peter strapped to a chair of his own beside you. “P-Peter,” You couldn’t stop the whimper from coming out. “W-what’s going on?” Tears rose to your eyes. If Peter was here too, that meant whoever did this could pull something over on Spider-Man.
“I don’t know, b-but we’re gonna be okay, okay?” He reassured, he knew your dad would find the two of you.
You gave a timid nod, you wanted to believe him. You believed your dad would find you, but you hoped he had some semblance of clue and would do so quickly.
“Finally ready to join us, Miss Stark?” The voice asked.
You looked around quickly, and figured it out just like Peter had. “What do you wa-nt? Please, just let us g-o.” You knew it wouldn’t work, but you had to try.
The person chuckled. “I wish to see both of you dead.”
You looked to Peter, panic in even more in your eyes now. You could see just a hint in Peter’s now, too.
“Wh-why would you want to kill us?” You asked, quickly. “Y-you know who my dad is, h-he’ll give you whatever you want, just /please/.” You begged.
When the door to the room opened the hall was dark, much like this room was, minus the light right above Peter. A figured that was very well cloaked stepped into the room. “Why dear,” the person spoke, their voice still computerized. “I wish to see your father fall.”
You closed your eyes. You couldn’t believe this was happening. “Th-Then why is Peter here?” You asked, as the figured stepped over to a table across from you and Peter.
“Two birds with one stone. Now, which of you wishes to die first?” They asked, turning around, holding a large needle.
“Don’t you dare touch her,” Peter said. “If you have a problem with Spider-Man kill me, fine, but don’t you dare touch her. Mr. Stark would do anything to get her back, just make that your bargaining chip.” He didn’t know what else he could do to save you. Even if he died first, there was no guarantee your dad would make it in time to save you.
“Peter no,” You said, releasing a sob. “I-I ca-n’t lose you.”
Your abductor tsked. “Isn’t that sweet. You don’t understand, it’s not that I want him to stop being Iron Man, I want nothing more than for him to suffer.” They swept forward, towards the two of you.
“Kill me first,” You demanded, if you were both going to die, like hell were you going to watch Peter die first. You weren’t going to let that be your last memory of him.
“No,” Peter stated, looking at you. He knew you were under a lot of stress right now, so was he, but he couldn’t allow that. He needed you to stay alive for as long as possible if there was any chance. He tried to convey that with a look.
You knew what he was trying to say, you closed your eyes tight, another sob escaping you. “I-I love you, Peter.” You confessed, looking at him.
“Enough,” the figure said, sweeping forward. They pulled back to stab the needle into Peter’s neck.
“I love you, too,” Peter said, quickly, before his inevitable end.
Both of you squeezed your eyes shut, but then there was a blast that had you both looking towards where the figure used to be standing. Then you both looked back to where they were, in a pile of rubble from the wall they had crashed into. Then another blast followed, just for good measure. A team swept in as you and Peter looked towards your father.
Tony didn’t hesitate to step out of the suit.
You sobbed as you were released from your restraints. You spring right into his arms.
He held you as tight as possible. He wasn’t letting you out of his sight again.
Peter stood as well once he was released, except he stayed where he was. He felt horrible. He was also just almost killed. He couldn’t even meet your dad’s eyes.
“Get over here, Underoos,” Tony demanded, his one arm released you and waved Peter in.
Peter was more surprised but this than he was when he first got the call from the person that was being drug out in handcuffs. But he had disobeyed your dad’s order’s enough for one night, so he stepped into both of you.
Tony wrapped his arm around him tightly. As mad as he was, he could deal with that later, right now he was just glad you were both alright.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Tony got both you and Peter back to the tower. He didn’t want to send Peter home at this time, because of May. He texted her that he needed Peter’s help with something really early, so not to worry her. Since, it was almost morning, he figured it would just be better to let Peter crash at there so they could talk after the two of you got some rest.
You had a lot on your mind when you walked into the tower, the first was that you needed to hug Happy. The second, was a shower. The third, was needing to talk to Peter. Of course, sleep was all you wanted, but you had to make sure Happy was okay, and to wash away your late night disaster. You hugged Happy extra tight, before going off to shower.
Tony offered Peter to as well, and gave him something to wear. Peter accepted and by the time he was done he went out to the couch to get some sleep and was surprised to find you there.
You had just hugged your dad goodnight, and promised you were going to go right to bed. Of course, you stopped and flopped on the couch instead. Talking to Peter was more important right now.
Peter sat down next to you. “H-Hey,” he greeted quietly.
“Hi,” you said, scooching a bit closer to him. “So, um… I’m sure you’re tired too, but I-I just can’t go to sleep without talking first…”
Peter sighed, he sent a glance your way, he was struggling to look at you. He had almost lost you, all because he was being irrational and didn’t listen to your dad. He gave a small nod.
“E-earlier w-when you said you love me too, did you mean it? Or did you just say it back because we were about to die?” You had to force it out.
The brunette looked at you, he ran a hand through his still damp hair. “W-what?” He asked, he couldn’t believe this is what you were asking him.
“I’m putting all the other stuff aside Peter, it’s not that important to me, and frankly I’d like to move on from it. What I can’t just move on from is this… I-I meant it earlier, I know it definitely wasn’t the best time to tell you, but I have feelings for you. I just want to know how you meant it when you said it back…”
Peter’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He didn’t want this to be how it happened either. “Y-yeah, I meant it,” he admitted. “I just, I didn’t want to freak you out before if I told you I liked you. This isn’t really the best environment to be dating in…”
You gave a small nod. There was a flicker of hope, but his last words made it dull, but you’d be damned if you gave up that easily. “I wish it didn’t take all this for us to finally admit it to each other.”
“Me either,” Peter agreed. “I’m sorry.”
“I guess you think we shouldn’t bother giving this a try, since you think it’s not a good environment?” You asked, not letting the small bit of hope go? You looked at him with that hope.
He couldn’t say no to that look, he hesitantly reached out and stroked your cheek. His mind was already made up, it had been for some time. That if he ever really got a chance to be with you, even if things were bad, he’d give his all to try for you. “What if I didn’t think that?” He asked.
You nuzzled your cheek into his palm and kept your eyes locked with his. “Then I think we’d be really dumb to not take advantage of this.”
Peter smiled lightly at you. “Will you please be my girlfriend?” He asked, quietly.
You gave a small happy nod.
He didn’t stop himself from pulling you in and kissing you. It was sweet, and wonderful, and so full of feelings you both shared for one another that you couldn’t have hid them if you wanted to. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you, Peter,” You replied, before pulling him down into the couch with you. Your dad could be mad later, but as of right now, you had almost lost him and he you tonight. You both needed to be safe in each other’s arms.
@buckysendoftheline
52 notes · View notes
Text
Family Hunt // Jughead Jones
Summary: A hunt brings the Winchesters to Riverdale creating a temporary stay in the town where you become close with a diverse group. Yet the life creates a rift between a certain boy determinded to brand himself a weirdo and you. How can you being the daughter of Sam be with someone so normal…so non jaded by the family business.
Characters: Winchester!Reader x Jughead Jones, daughter!Reader x father!Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Archie Andrews, Veronica Lodge, and Betty Cooper
Words: 3963
Disclaimer: I do not own Riverdale or the characters. I also do not own any gifs, images or songs that may appear in this.
Warnings: Swearing, fighting, self-doubt, hunting, monsters, fluff and angst.
Requested: No.
Author: Caitsy
A/N: This is something I’ve been working on for about two weeks and I hope you enjoy this!
Masterlist
Prompt List
ASK US A QUESTION LIST
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The last name Winchester struck the fear into anyone aware of the supernatural world and it didn’t matter how long a Winchester had been hunting. The name put a target on your back and anyone you cared back usually ended up attacked or dead. You were the daughter of Sam Winchester and a long dead woman. Despite not wanting to place you in the hunting world, your uncle and father had trained you but you didn’t hunt until you were thirteen.
“How do you protect yourself against a ghost?” Dad asked as Uncle Dean drove down the highway.
“Rock salt shots or iron.” You stated looking out the window.
“Good. Do you remember the words to exorcise a demon?”
“Dad.” You said turning to see him, “I’ve been learning Latin since before I could crawl. I know all you’ve taught me. Uncle Dean taught me how to shoot while you taught me how to fight both supernatural and one.  supernatural.”
“I’m sorry baby.” Dad sighed, “I love you kid.”
“I know.”
You didn’t know what town this was going to be other than Dad had found a case while he had been correcting your homework. He had to look up an answer and found out in the recommended news articles about something. Dad had ordered you to pack before heading out on the road.
“Burger.” Uncle Dean grunted pulling into an old fashioned diner with neon lights that were unnecessary at this time of day.
“Dad can I have a milkshake and fries?” You questioned.
Dad had always made sure you ate healthy food more often than what Uncle Dean had always snuck you. You were sixteen and you still followed your father’s rules because if you didn’t he got that sad puppy look with a mix of disappointment.
“Add a burger-“
“Chicken?” You perked up grinning, “Uncle Dean, want to share a sundae after?”
Uncle Dean and you had that typical familial relationship where you got more ease than the rules with you father. Well you couldn’t get anymore ease but it was still less. You saw the smirk of your uncle before he tossed out an agreement if he got the cherry.
Walking into the building was like any other place only this was a little more busy than the diners you had been in. You felt your angel blade in the small of your back with a gun hidden on your ankle in the boot. You settled into a booth near the counter while you Uncle made eyes at the Latina waitress.
“What can I get you?” “I’ll have a chicken burger, fries and a vanilla milkshake.” You said as your Dad glared at you, “Wow okay Dad! Please can I have that meal?”
“No problem.” The waitress smiled, “You guys have an amusing daughter.”
“What? No!” They said together, “We’re brothers!”
“They get that a lot.” You giggled as your family avoided looking at each other. They both mumbled their orders before it was taken to the kitchen.
“I want to talk to you about something Y/N.” Dad said turning to face you, “We’re not sure how long we’ll be here so would you like to be enrolled at the school?”
“Uh…”
“Beat any kid up th-“
“Dean!” Dad snapped, “Don’t tell my daughter to go hitting other people!”
“While you two fight, I’m going to go use the bathroom.” You sighed climbing over the back of the booth into one being used by a group of teens.
You all blinked at each other before you got out of the booth with your Dad hissing at you to apologize but really who cares. You did feel the eyes of the other teens watching your retreated back where you’re shirt had raised a little to reveal the knife. You had barely made it into the bathroom when you were slammed into the wall next to the door.
Within seconds you had twisted out of the hold to slam the teen against the wall with enough force to nearly shatter a picture frame on the ground. The others had rallied to push you off before you broke the teens arm leading you to slug one in the face.
“Archie!” The raven haired girl gasped rushing to the fallen red head. You crouched waiting for the next attack before they all sized you up, “What the hell?”
“He grabbed me.” You stated blinking.
“He was getting you off Jughead!” The other female said stomping her foot on the ground.
“Why was this Jughead slamming me into the wall?” You glared leaning down closer to the hidden gun.
“You have a knife! What teen carries a knife!? Like a professional?!” The boy shaking his arm exclaimed.
“What’s a Jughead?” You questioned.
“ME!”
“Oh.”
“Are you going to rob the diner?” Jughead asked closing in on you. You shifted reaching to grab a normal knife to hold it in front of you, “Whoa!”
“Betty call the cops.”
“Veronica!” The blonde gasped, “She could have something to do with Jason-“
“What? Who’s Jason?” You questioned. They all shared a look before silently agreeing to quit attacking you.
“Jason was murdered this summer.” Archie said holding his hand to his bruising eye. You had landed a punch that would make your father proud.
“Oh.” You stated, “I’m Y/N Barton. I’m new here.”
You returned back to your booth where your Dad was nervously watching where you had disappeared to, then soon followed by some teens. Dean saw one of the boys, a jock no doubt, was holding his eye that was steadily turning black by the minute. His eye caught your scraped knuckles before he chuckled deeply.
“Looks like your kid socked Raggedy Ann.” Dean grinned. Sam groaned as you stood while the teens congregated around your booth.
“Dad this is Betty, Jughead, Archie, and Veronica.” You said motioning to them, “This is my Dad Sam Barton and my uncle Dean Barnes. They go to the high school that you still haven’t shown me yet.”
Sam frowned unsure why you had given them fake names while silently telling him you would go to the school. You were a smart kid that made him proud ever since you said your first word so young.
“Jughead can show you.” Veronica stated stepping close to Archie while Betty had gently placed a bag of frozen food in the red head’s hand.
“Jughead?” Dean questioned confused. He noticed the boy with a beanie rolling his eyes and he knew that the kid was named that.
“That’s be awesome!” Your eyes twinkled while your uncle and Dad shared a concerned look.
They didn’t care how old you were or how trained you were on protecting yourself they didn’t like boys with you. They were placed in a hard place when you swiftly kissed your Dad’s cheek and raced out of the door with Jughead on your heels.
“I don’t like this.” Sam grumbled as you vanished from his view.
“That kid is a Winchester.” Dean snorted, “She’ll be fine. Besides I’ll kill the boy if something happens.”
Jughead was slouching as he led the way to the typical high school in every movie you had managed to watch. It became easier when you moved into the bunker with your family after years of living in motels and the Impala.
“This is Riverdale High School. Run by Cheryl Blossom like the Blossoms run the town.” Jughead said gloomily.
“I’ve never been in a school.” You mumbled wincing when you remember the hunts that led you into the school buildings. Jughead must of noticed because he was watching you with a small frown.
“You’ve never gone to school?” 
“Dad and I live in a house far from towns and after my mom died, my uncle moved in.” You said keeping your eyes on the building, “My mom was a teacher so she wanted to teach me with the help of my Dad.”
“Oh…well.” Jughead trailed off watching your body language. Something was off and he had a feeling it was going to be interesting with you in town.
“I should head back.” You said pivoting on your foot to head back to the diner, “I’m sure Uncle Dean will be in lecture mode about leaving with strangers and Dad will say something about violence.”
“That was a nice punch.”
“Self defence from my Dad backfired.” You smirked as the seed settled in his mind that you weren’t the evil living in this town.
“Over protective?”
“You have no idea. I don’t even have any social media.” You weren’t faking the sadness in your voice this time. You truly did love life you had with your uncle and dad but with no friends and stability could suck.
“Seriously?”
“I’m not jok-“
“Y/N Y/M/N Win-“ The purr of the Impala was no match for your father’s raised voice. He was glaring along with Uncle Dean, “Get in the car right now.”
You shared a look with Jughead before you climbed into the back seat where your Dad was already ranting about how violence wasn’t the answer. All you could see was Jughead’s beautiful eyes and you knew right there you were screwed. You had feelings for the odd boy and you sure that blonde Betty girl did too.
A month passed by with you hanging out with Jughead at lunch when he was working on some kind of novel. He had explained how he was writing about the mysterious death of his classmate and how it was a big deal. You tended to stay quiet by reading up on your Latin, it intrigued the boy when you were mumbling in the language as if you had been born in the country.
“Jughead!” Betty exclaimed sitting next to him on the ground. Her eyes twinkling at him and it made you want to punch her in the face but you didn’t need dirt on your record.
“Hey Betty.” Jughead said grabbing one of your fries to stuff in his mouth.
“Wanna go to Pops after school?”
“I can’t sorry. Y/N and I are going. Maybe next time.” Jughead replied not looking up to her. Her face fell before she got to her feet and headed back to the table where Veronica was waiting.
“You should go out with her.” You mumbled looking up from the book in your hands.
“What? Betty wasn’t asking me out, she’s been looking out for me since Archie once again decided females were more important.” Jughead said with a smirk at you. As you stared at him, his smirk faded when the encounter settled in his mind, “She was asking me out.”
“Betty seems pretty into you so I don’t think you lost your chance with her.” You replied looking back down at your book.
“I’m not into Betty.” Jughead slowly said, “She’s not really my type of girlfriend. Besides she was recently in love with Archie and that’s called rebounding.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m into-“ Jughead was cut off by your uncle’s ringtone.
“Oh you finally answered. We found the location of the whore house…I mean witch house and she’s been shacking up with a demon.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m just about at the school and I need you to be ready to fight.”
“Uncle Dean where’s my Dad?”
“Uh…we got separated and he was taken by the witch.” Dean said slowly.
“Of course.” You said sarcastically before climbing to your feet when you saw your Uncle hustling towards you. You hung the phone up as you ran to meet him.
“He’ll be fine Kid, we’re Winchesters.”
“Wait what?” Jughead asked confused, “I thought you and your Dad were Bartons and your UncIe was Barnes…wait those are Avengers names…”
“You gave a fake name?” Your eyes settled on Archie as he dropped his book bag on the ground.
“Shit. Look my Dad and Uncle are government agents, they take me with them because I’ve been attacked in revenge before_”
“You lied to me.” Jughead blinked, “God how could I be so stupid! My life is a piece of shit so why would anyone want to be near me.”
“Jug-“
“Save it. You’re just like everyone else.” He growled picking up his things and storming away.
“Archie-“
“I’m sorry Y/N but he’s my best friend, I’m always going to have his back. Good luck with everything.” Archie mumbled before following his best friend at a fast pace. 
“Wait!” You yelled taking a step before you were swung back into your uncles body, “Let me go!”
“No. Think about this. Are you going to go after two boys that can’t know your life or save your dad?” Uncle Dean asked sternly, “You go after those boys and it won’t end well. You know that. We know that. The entire family knows that.”
You hesitated before Uncle Dean began to drag you out so you felt your heart break into pieces. You knew you shouldn’t have fallen for the boy but it was impossible with his snark and mysterious qualities. Betty and him had a greater chance of surviving the fucked up world than with you.
It was a young witch that used the school at night for more power by the atmosphere created by angst ridden teenagers. The witch herself was in her early twenties with a great tie to the demon, it was a vicious cycle, every person in the witch’s history inherited the bond to the same demon.
“Dad!” You exclaimed dropping to your knees in front of a locked at the school. His face was bruised and bloody with a relieved smile at you.
“Y/N!” Both Uncle Dean and your Dad yelled when you were violently thrown into the set of lockers behind you. You body shape was dented into the lockers but from the small movements you made there was no fractures.
However you were disorientated and unsure of everything or if you have blacked out or not. You did see a small movement at the end of the hall. You saw that your family was losing the battle and with the witch preoccupied you slammed your knife into her back over her heart.
“Daddy.” You mumbled collapsing onto your knees in front of your father. His arms wrapped around you in the familiar warmth you had known since your birth.
“I”m okay baby.” Dad mumbled into your hair, “Look at me. See I’m fine.”
“They aren’t.” Dean mumbled as the demon, now showing himself, was close to the group of teens.
“I know him.” You gasped as the demon was on his way to your friends, your Jughead with his odd hat, “Run!”
It seems the Riverdale teens were shocked and mystified at the fight between the supernatural and Winchesters. Not that they knew the life but watching a sixteen year old girl kill someone…well they weren’t overly concerned with who was fleeing the scene scared.
“Are you okay?” Jughead questioned.
“Should we call the police?” Betty said taking a small amount of glee at the rift developing between Jughead and you.
“No! Run!” You screamed running towards the endangered teens before the demon could do harm but it was useless. The demon had used his power to shove Archie onto the wall and up to the ceiling, “No, no, no!”
With the pounding footsteps of your family you dug the demon blade from your boot before tackling the demon. The tackle severed the demon’s concentration with Archie to throw a fist at your face, the punch grazed your temple before you slammed the knife blade into the skull.
You laid there gasping for breathe as Veronica and Betty crouched near a shaken red head even thought there were the same. The body was tossed off you so you finally felt some of the wounds begin to throb.
“What the hell.” Jughead stated as his attention was on making sure you were okay, “You killed someone.”
“Yeah.” You mumbled.
“Were you in Riverdale during the summer?”
“No. We were on…a uh-“
“Business-“
“We just saw Archie get fucked up without anyone near him. That guy, the one you stabbed by the way, lit up orange like a freaking sun.” Jughead exclaimed not taking your bullshit anymore.
“That was a demon.” Your uncle Dean said blinking as he held up your Dad, “The woman Y/N stabbed was a witch.”
“These two…jesus Dean.” You Dad said glaring at his brother when he was jostled too much, “The demon and witch had a centuries old bond via members of the witch’s family.”
“What the hell.” Archie choked out shocked.
“We hunt the things that go bump in the night. The monsters that your parents checked for under your bed and in the closet. The ones you grew to believe were fake and you were safe from.”
“Archie learnt how to throw a football and I learned how to shoot.” You said, “You girls shop and gossip while I studied on how to exorcise a demon and make salt rounds.”
The teens were silent as you continued to rant about how different your life were while your hurt and jealously broke your father’s heart. He had always felt terrible to be unable to provide you a normal life but he tried to for a period of time. It didn’t work, it failed liked his college days of denial and avoidance. You were two when he decided he couldn’t leave the hunting life.
“Baby…sh.” Your dad cooed as you slowed down to take a breath.
“I’m Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam and his daughter Y/N. We grew up in this world that most don’t know exists. We hunt monsters.”                        
“I think I prefer when I didn’t know you were all crazy.” Jughead muttered heavily. Betty shifted closer in order to console him shuddering at the heavy glare you gave her.
“Crazy? Did you not see what the body did? Or how Archie was pinned against the wall with no one touching him?” You snapped stepping closer. Betty instead got in your face, a little too close for comfort.
Before the blonde’s palm could connect with you face you had a gun inches in front of her. You did care if she was human or not. You were trained to act on instinct and pulling a gun on her was a no brainer.
“Whoa!” Archie exclaimed as he tried to push Betty out of the way.
“Step away.” Dad said slowly. You saw Betty gulp at the sight of something that ended Jason’s life in front of her.
“You need to step a foot back now.” You hissed at the blonde, “Are you stupid? I have the same training and experience, if not more, as law enforcement. Don’t rush me. Don’t try to assault me. A threat is a threat.”
“O-okay.” Betty mumbled stepping back and sighing when you returned your gun to its place.
“Seriously. Just because Raggedy Ann doesn't like you doesn’t mean you should transfer that to someone else.”
“I didn’t transfer. I just didn’t know I liked Jughead.” Betty said huffing again, “You being here made me see that I love him actually.”
“You like Jughead.” Archie said shocked. He may not return her feelings but having someone irrevocably like you was a good feeling.
“There’s something betwe-“
“Betty don’t.” Jughead said clearing his throat. In the short period of time you had known Jughead, he was a closed off person and didn’t like a lot of attention. Betty revealing her obvious feelings was one of those things that made him uncomfortable.
“Chick flick moment.” Uncle Dean grunted as he walked away, “I get enough watching those awful movies you insist on.”
“You like them!” You shouted with a grin.
“Baby, we have to hit the road. There’s a new case in Greendale.” Dad said with a smile at the teens. A rather awkward one as Betty spoke under her breath at the odd boy that caught your attention from the moment you saw him.
“Okay.” You said turning to the group, “Sorry for the problems we brought.” 
“Can’t wait to never see you again.” Betty mumbled with a cold stare.
“You have my number if anything happens.”
“Can we speak alone?” Jughead asked blinking at you.
“Uh. Yeah sure.”
“We’ll load the car.” Dad said kissing your forehead, “Don’t be long.”
You nodded as Jughead ushered you to a room where everyone could congregate during breaks of the day. You would miss the homey room with the worn board game boxes stacked on a counter at the back. When you two sat down Jughead grasped your hands.
“Do you think you could stay for a little longer?” Jughead asked.
“I can’t. It’s for the best too.” You said taking your hands from his, “This won’t end well.”
“You don’t know until we try.”
“But I do.” You said with watering eyes, “Winchesters never get a happy ending. I’m as close to a happily ever after that my Dad is going to get. If we get close to someone they die.”
“I doubt it’s because you’re Winchesters.” Jughead smirked straightening his beanie.
“Everyone my Dad has slept with has died.” You said stonily, “Uncle Dean tried to leave the life and so did my dad but you can’t leave the life.”
Jughead was silent as the words registered in his mind breaking his heart more because he would probably never see you again. He wouldn’t have that same itch to brush your hair behind your ear or fail to not squeeze your hand at odd moments. He would never have the same fight for the cherry on your milkshake or steal the rest of your fries.
“You could stay. With me.” Jughead said. He saw the hesitation in you, the hope that grew before it was blown out.
“I can’t.”
“You deserve to be a kid and happy.”
“So did my family. So did countless people killed. Just by saving people makes up for the childhood I didn’t get.” You said getting up, “I should go.”
Your bag was tossed in the back of the Impala along with the two other bags from your dad and uncle. The teens you had grown to be close with in the duration you had been in Riverdale stood by the car. You carefully looked each one in the eye before coming closer to them.
“If you ever get into trouble give me a call.” You stated to each one, “I’m serious. If you think someone or something is off let me know.”
“I’ll miss you.” Ronnie said stepping up with a small box.
“What is this?” You questioned as you lifted the lid to see a bracelet.
The bracelet had charms on it that didn’t hang too low but they were distinctly related to each of these important people. A guitar with a football engraving correlating with Archie was the first to catch your eye bringing the memory of punching him. The next one was just a tiny pearl that perfectly described Veronica, it was extravagant but simple. The charm describing Betty was a tiny magnify glass that was placed next to a crown with a diamond at the top. The last was simply a milkshake for the place you had all met albeit in a shady way.
“It’s gorgeous.” You breathed.
“Jughead helped.” She admitted stepping to carefully place it on your wrist and hug you, “He loves you. Don’t throw that away.”
With a rather awkward hug with Jughead in front of everyone you stepped into the Impala for next hunt. Maybe life would bring you back to Riverdale but for now you had a hunt to do.
Forever Tag List
@cityofsobbingfangirls @tas898 @barbidollash @trustnobodyshootfirst @winchesterfanfiction @deanwinchesterisamazing @oh-my-hecky-padalecki @padackles2010 @msimpala67 @deangirl5509 @heyitssilverwolf @therealme13posts @petlaufeyson @professionally-crazed @winterhurricane @tearsandbloodofmyenemies @blackwidow-romanoff @crazybarnes @marvelofcourse @takemetothefictionalworld @destiel67bellarke @ohmy-sammy @fightinthepain @vivabucky @waituntilthedustsettles @daydreaming1393 @cumonbucky @inhumans-of-shield @basicwhiskeyprincesss @soulfull-ofevans @spookass @glitterintheairblog @girl-with-wild-dreams @frickin-bats @darkestgrungeuniverse @shamvictoria11 @buckyappreciationsociety @sammysgirl1997 @fly-f0rever @archer-whovian-violinist @jenn0755 @anamarieswift2194 @unicornofdanger @ifyoudie @jealousbitxh @stormin-thru-glitter @sparklyaura @stilescstilinski @curlyxtomato @katshrev @its-sanaa-k @theoismydad @im-a-light-child @tmriddler @flirtswithdanger @divide-supermarketflowers @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1 @introverted-fandom-human
Riverdale Taglist
@n0average @ateliefloresdaprimavera @sgarrett49 @jarchiee @casismyguardianangel @supernovares @juggie-sprouse @an-enigmatic-avenger @leah-khaleesi @rax-writes @shameless-danni @rapunzxl @peetapansneverland @peetapansneverland @sebby-staan @katshrev @zachmantle @30inlovewiththecoco1 @semoremohhh
687 notes · View notes
elizatellsthestory · 7 years
Text
The Lost Prince || Part 3
Fandom: Naruto (Anastasia AU)
Pairing: SasuSaku
Rating: T
Summary: Orochimaru has overtaken Konoha and killed off the entire royal family, or so he thought. Years later, rumors whispered throughout the country claim that the two Uchiha princes somehow escaped the massacre. Sakura is ready to brush the gossip off as just that, but when a young man who is being chased by Oto shinobi and fits the description of one of the princes collapses on her, she’s tempted to believe Naruto’s prodding and help the stranger be reunited with his family. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the stranger also happens to be her ticket to a better life.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of characters. I am making no profit off of this and am only writing it for my entertainment. The same goes for the story Anastasia.
A/N: This chapter has minor character deaths aka the equivalent of the Uchiha massacre in this universe. This chapter was giving me some problems, but it’s finally done and ready to be shared with you lovely people!
Unbeta-ed.
[ao3] [fanfic]
Sasuke was pulled from his peaceful slumber by the hurried shaking of his shoulder. His eyes felt heavy with sleep, and he knew it must be much too early to be morning already. He yawned and cracked his eyes open to see the concerned face of his brother staring down at him. “Itachi?” he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What are you doing here?” He glanced out his bedroom window and accidentally caught sight of the night sky blazing an orange-red and filled with smoke.
“Sasuke,” Itachi’s voice was quiet but strained. Confused, Sasuke turned away from the window only to find a small mound of clothes pushed in his face. They were much drabber than anything he’d ever worn. In fact, they looked like they belonged to a servant rather than a prince, but before he could question his older brother, Itachi shook his head. “Hurry, we need to be quick and quiet. Do you trust me?”
Sasuke nodded mutely and quickly pulled on the clothes and heavy coat. “Are we going somewhere?” He stood from the bed and stole another glance out the window. From his new vantage point, the ten year old could see a mob flooding through the front gates with torches and weapons in hand. Fear seized him. Suddenly he could hear the distant shouts and yells that he had been ignorant to only moments ago. After what seemed like only seconds later, a loud, repetitive thud echoed throughout the palace. Sasuke’s head whipped back to look at his brother who was dressed in servant’s clothes as well. Suddenly Itachi’s serious expression made much more sense.
“M-mom? Dad?”
“They’re fine.” The words for now lingered unsaid, but fully understood.
The beating of Sasuke’s heart in his chest felt much more prominent and there was a strange ringing in his ears. “Wha-what’s going on, Itachi?” He slapped his hands to his cheeks and squeezed his eyes shut. This had to be a dream. A nightmare. That was it. That had to be it. He hadn’t really woken up.
By now, he could hear the chaos in the hallways as people ran about. The doorknob to his room jiggled but didn’t open. Itachi must have locked it behind him to give them more time, but more time for what?
“Sasuke.” The young boy felt Itachi’s hands encircle his wrists and gently force them away from his face. “Look at me.” The boy slowly opened his eyes expecting a different outcome, but everything was as it had been when he’d shut them. “We need to leave here, and we can’t be found. Do you understand me?”
The thudding crescendoed into a loud bang and ceased. That was when the screams began. The sounds of gunshots filled the air. Sasuke tried his hardest to be strong, but he couldn’t stop the way his hands shook in his brother’s hold. He swallowed and nodded, trying to put on a brave face for his older brother.
Itachi’s eyes softened as he took in his frightened brother and released his hold, only to reach into his coat and pull out a folded fan. Sasuke’s eyes widened when Itachi tugged on the end of the fan to reveal a tanto. The next thing he knew, the weapon was in his trembling hands and Itachi’s were resting reassuringly on his shoulders. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Now we need to go.”
The sounds of glass breaking and more screams rang out nearby. The mob had made their way to the second floor, and the sounds of gunshots and metal clashing came in waves. The door rattled again, this time harder. The thuds that had been far away before were now right outside the door. Without a word, Itachi grabbed Sasuke’s wrist and pulled him to the servants’ door that blended perfectly into the wall.
His brother pushed him into the corridor first then quickly shut the door behind the two of them them seconds before Sasuke’s bedroom doors were bust open and footsteps and shouts filled the room. Itachi didn’t wait. As soon as they were in the passageway, he was dragging Sasuke along it. Sasuke didn’t know if his brother had ever been through there before, but he seemed to know where he was going. He gripped the tanto tightly in his hand and ran along, doing his best to move quickly and keep up with his older brother’s longer strides.
Though they were hidden from anyone in the main hallways, they could still hear everything that happened as they passed by. At one point, heat and smoke spilled into their corridor and the boys had to cover their mouths and noses with their sleeves. The entire time, the sounds of their family, their servants, their friends’ screams and the sound of gunfire seemed endless.
After what felt like an eternity, the corridor ended with a door. Cold seeped around the edges, and they knew it led to the outside. Itachi held up a hand to stop Sasuke and eased the door open just a crack so he could peek out. The snow laden courtyard was covered in tracks. Though not nearly as crowded as it had been before, there were still men standing guard, but they didn’t look to be friendly. Rather than the Konoha insignia, their uniforms bore a musical note to identify them as Otogakure shinobi.
Itachi turned back to his brother and held a finger to his mouth before taking his hand. Carefully, they slid out the door and around the corner of the palace, moving as quickly and inconspicuously as they could. Then a scream rang out from the second story that stopped Sasuke’s blood cold in his veins. “Th-that sounded like…Mom…” Before he could even finish the thought, the scream was cut off sharply by a loud shot. It was a sound that would ring in Sasuke’s ears for years to come. His knees felt weak. Just as they were about to give out, Itachi pulled him forwards.
He couldn’t see his brother’s eyes, but his shoulders were tensed. A few seconds later, another shot rang out, and another sinking feeling spread through the two boys. Somehow, they both knew their father was no more.
Wordlessly, they made their way to the gate. Every step felt heavier, every breath of cold air harder to take in. Itachi lifted his brother up and over the wrought iron fence before following suit. There was no time to mourn. First they had to survive.
Beyond the gate, the entire city was in a frenzy, and there was no one they could trust. Sasuke clung to his older brother’s hand and stayed close to his side as they slipped through the shadows. His lip quivered every time he thought back to that scream and the gunshots that followed, but he pushed the feeling down. He didn’t want to cry. He’d only draw attention to them.
“Itachi…” Sasuke’s voice was more than quiet. It was small. His eyes were on his feet as he focused on placing one foot in front of the other. “Will you tell me where we’re going now?” They’d made it to the road leaving Konoha, and he finally felt brave enough to speak again.
“We’re going to follow this road to the next town and take the train to Tsukigakure. We’d risk being caught if we tried to leave on a train from Konoha…especially tonight.” A darkness passed over Itachi’s expression, but the teen kept speaking, keeping himself busy by caring for his brother. “Tsukigakure is known for staying out of wars and taking in refugees. We’re bound to meet other Konoha nobles when we arrive. We’ll find help there.”
Sasuke nodded, and not knowing what to else to say into the heavy night, the boys fell quiet again. As day began to break, the barren roads came alive again, and the remaining two Uchiha took to the woods to avoid running into anyone. When Sasuke’s feet began to drag and his eyes began to grow heavy, Itachi wordlessly lifted the boy onto his back and kept walking until he heard the sounds of an approaching truck a long ways away from the main road.
Careful not to wake a sleeping Sasuke, he ducked behind a large tree and held Sasuke close. The sounds of the truck slowed to a stop, and the exhaust cut off. In the silence of the woods, Itachi could hear every move, and every sound filled him with fear. He heard the door opening, much too close to their hiding spot. He heard the crunch of snow beneath boots as several men exited the vehicle.
“Here’s good enough,” a man spoke. The clank of something metallic scraping across the bed of a truck filled the quiet woods. “You three get to digging. These bodies aren’t going to bury themselves.”
The sound of snow being shoveled began, but Itachi’s mind reeled from the man’s words. His only solace was that Sasuke hadn’t been awake to hear it. He peeked around the tree trunk and watched as men in Otogakure uniforms, men who had helped lead the attack on the palace, on his family, worked swiftly while three others stood over them. Once a large trench was dug in the ground, the one who looked to be in charge nodded towards the truck.
It was a sight Itachi would never be able to un-see. A small gasp horror came from his arms, and his eyes were drawn from the brutally beaten, shot through bodies of his parents and two young servants to his young brother whose innocence had forever been stolen from him.
The small sound was enough to make all the soldiers pause in their work for a moment. It was the man in charge who recovered first. Immediately, he began barking out orders to find the source of the noise. “Spread out and look around. If you find anyone, deal with them. Permanently. No one can know what happened here. Lord Orochimaru’s orders. Now get back to work.” The reminder was threat enough. Lord Orochimaru did not deal with insubordination lightly.
Itachi could hear the movement resume, and he knew it was only a matter of time until they were found. He turned Sasuke to face him, and looked his brother in the eyes. “Saskue,” his voice was low and urgent. “Listen to me. You have to survive. Get to Tsukigakure. I’ll meet you there.”
Sasuke frowned in confusion at the sad smile on his brother’s face. “Itachi-”
“Forgive me, Sasuke.” Itachi’s fingers tapped against his brother’s head lightly, and Sasuke closed his eyes in surprise. By the time he reopened them, all he saw was Itachi’s back as the elder boy ran through the woods in pain sight of the soldiers searching for them.
“Hey you!”
“Stop!”
Shouts filled the woods. Sasuke had to bite his tongue to keep himself from calling out for his brother.
“Go after him. I’ll finish things here,” the lead soldier growled at the remaining shinobi with him. Sasuke could hear more footsteps as they ran off accompanied by the sound of liquid being poured over the bodies in the ditch, followed by the striking of a match. Sasuke squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands over his ears, but he could still hear everything. The footsteps of the man as he walked back to the truck. The starting of the engine and the hum as it drove away. The shouts and gunshots in the distance. And the sounds of flames licking the air.
What was worse though was the smell. He’d never smelt smoke so foul. He tried everything in his power to avoid imagining his parents burning. For the first time that night, tears fell freely from his eyes. He couldn’t be strong anymore. He wanted his mother and father. He wanted his brother. He wanted to go home. He wanted everyone to be alive.
Almost unaware of his movement, he stood and began to run. He didn’t have a destination in mind. He didn’t feel the cold, or the burn of the muscles in his legs as he pushed himself faster. He didn’t feel the sting of cold tears drying on his skin only to be replaced by fresh tracks. He didn’t even feel like he was in his own body. He just wanted to escape. He wanted to escape everything.
He ran until he could no longer hear shouts in the distance. He ran until he couldn’t smell the sickening smoke or see the fire dancing behind his eyelids. He ran until his legs gave out on him, and then he was falling. His momentum threw his body forward down a snowy hill. The tanto he’d been holding so tightly to slipped from his grasp somewhere along the way. When he finally came to a stop, it was with a jolt that shook his entire body. The back of his head throbbed, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He couldn’t find it in him to move.
He was so tired. His body wanted desperately to rest just as he desperately wanted to wake from this nightmare. In the distance, he could vaguely hear the engine of a car as it came closer. He knew he should move, and yet his eyelids drooped closer together. The car slowed to a stop near him. He tried to get up. He really did, but somehow, he could only manage a twitch of the leg. A door open and shut.
Would this be the end of him?
Footsteps approached, but before they could reach him, his entire world went black.
The train lurched along the track and Hiei jolted awake. He could still feel dried tear tracks on his cheeks.
At some point during the night, the three of them had all huddled together to keep warm with Sakura in the middle to keep the boys from glaring at each other and picking fights. While Hiei’s side just barely brushed against the pink-haired woman’s, Naruto was fully leaning into her with his head on her shoulder. The blonde was snoring away not so quietly, but one glance to the side showed him that Sakura was awake and had been for a while.
They’d long since closed the sliding door, and there was barely any light to see by, but he could tell by how straight her posture was that she was anything but relaxed enough to catch some shut eye.
“Have you slept at all?” his voice came quietly through the darkness, but she tensed, surprised to find Hiei awake. Slowly, she let herself relax back to the state she’d been in before and shrugged. “A little bit a couple hours ago. It’s fine. We won’t cross the boarder for at least another day or so,” she brushed off his concern. “You haven’t been asleep long either. You should try to get some more rest.”
“I’m not tired.” He answered a millisecond too quickly for it to be the complete truth. Though his nightmare had quickly fled his mind, and he could barely catch flashes of what had occurred in it, he still felt unsettled. If Sakura noticed, she did him the curtesy of not saying anything.
For several minutes, a silence settled over them while Hiei tried to remember his dream. Like always, the only things he could catch were flashes of fire and echoes of screams.
“Tell me something,” he broke the silence, searching for anything to chase the remnants of the dream away.
“Hmm?” Sakura turned her head towards him just enough to let him know he had her attention. “What is it?”
“You mentioned your mother earlier…but you said you were an orphan too. What happened?”
Sakura’s eyes saddened, and there was a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Hiei added quickly, but Sakura shook her head.
“No. It’s okay. After-after Orochimaru took control, food was scarce, and that winter was pretty bad. A sickness swept our part of the city. They were already giving me a portion of their food so I’d have enough to grow. They weren’t as strong as they should have been, and,” her words faltered at the memory despite her attempt to sound as detached as Hiei had when he’d recounted his short history to Naruto and herself. It didn’t work. She could already feel her eyes watering. “The sickness took them. I was on my own for a couple of years, then I found Naruto, and we’ve been looking out for each other ever since. He’s kind of the only family I’ve got now.”
“Hm,” Hiei murmured, unsure of what to say. The normal thing to do would be to give his condolences, but it had been so long ago, and it wouldn’t do her or her parents any good. “What’s it like?” he spoke after another bout of silence. “Having a family?” As he asked the question, he stared at the wall opposite him, almost embarrassed to be caught asking the question.
This time, Sakura’s head turned fully to look at him, shock clear in her eyes. She’d known he was an orphan. She’d known he had no memory of his family, but somehow, it hadn’t sunk in that he didn’t know what having one was like until that very moment. “It’s…well, it’s…” she sputtered for a moment, trying to find a way to put the feeling into words. “It’s feeling…safe. It’s knowing someone’s always looking out for you no matter what. It’s a familiar, warm feeling in your gut, and knowing you’d do whatever you could to take care of your family, and see them happy.” She spared a soft smile for the blond sleeping on her shoulder who had somehow become like a brother to her over their time together. “It’s unlike anything else.”
Hiei couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He wished he could remember such a feeling. His life had taught him that the idea of feeling safe was laughable. Feeling wanted or loved wasn’t meant for him. Everything was about survival. Anything else was wishful thinking. A fairytale. And yet…
There was a part of him, no matter how small, that hoped desperately that Naruto and Sakura were right. That maybe he was the lost prince, and that he had a brother waiting somewhere for him to come home. That just maybe, he had a family somewhere.
“Do you really think Sasuke is alive after all this time?” There was a strange vulnerability in his voice, that Hiei had never heard himself use before. He wasn’t so sure he liked the feeling, but he needed to know.
“Without a doubt.” Sakura smiled brightly at him. Even in the darkness of the train car, he could still make it out. “Remember when I told you about the time I saw him? In that procession? Well after they went on their way, I kept watching until the Royal Family was out of sight. You can believe this or not, but I swear, that day something in me just knew I’d see Prince Sasuke again. I can feel it in my gut.”
Hiei snorted, “You’re so confident because of a gut feeling?”
“Sometimes you just have to learn to trust,” Sakura shrugged.
“So do you think I’m him?”
The question caught Sakura off guard, and her smile faltered momentarily. She hadn’t actually put any thought into whether Hiei was actually the lost prince. She’d only spent time considering how Prince Itachi believing it might turn her and Naruto’s lives around. Now being asked outright, she felt a little bad for not considering how much this might mean to Hiei.
“I think…If I were the Crown Prince, I would want you to be Sasuke.”
Hiei didn’t say anything in reply. Her answer had been clear enough. At least one half of the pair getting him to Tsukigakure doubted him when he already doubted himself enough.
Itachi glanced out the window, his cheek rested against his knuckles as he watched yet another imposter leave the estate. It was only recently that he’d allowed news of his survival to travel past Tsukigakure. He supposed some part of him wanted Orochimaru and his men to know they’d failed to eradicate the Uchiha line completely. He’d hoped to wait until Sasuke made his way back to him, but it had been years since he’d last seen his little brother. As the years passed, fear gripped him more and more. He’d told Sasuke to meet him on the island nation, and yet his brother never came.
News that he was alive and looking for Sasuke seemed to have traveled quickly. Almost a week after the announcement was made, the first of the imposters arrived, and they hadn’t stopped coming since. Each time, his hopes would raise, only to plummet further and further each time.
“Your Highness?” The gentle voice of Hinata Hyuga pulled his attention from the window. The Hyuga’s were another noble family that had fled Konoha the night of the attack on the palace. Their numbers were much smaller than they had been a decade ago, but they remained loyal to the crown. Hiashi Hyuga himself had been the one to open his home to Itachi when the young Crown Prince had finally made his way to Tsukigakure many years ago. “Your next appointment is here.”
Itachi sighed and sat straighter at his desk. With his elbows on the desk and his hands laced, he rested his chin tiredly on his fingers. “Bring him in.” He knew chances of this next young man being Sasuke were slim, but he had to hope. He knew Sasuke was somewhere out there looking for him as hard as he was looking for Sasuke.
7 notes · View notes
concussed-to-pieces · 7 years
Note
Character thing -2,6,7,20 with kitten Mox :)
(AHHHHH)
(Gottheir first realpet, Did something creative after years of not doing it, Went to afancy restaurant and Accidentally blurted out their feelings.)
“Kitten,please don’t be angry with me, okay?”
Jonwasn’t really the best when it came to this stuff. He alwaysresonated a little too hard with…small, abandoned, motherlessthings. It wasn’t like he didn’t know why,he’d just rather not think about it.
Itwas a pup, a tiny, scrawny pup with lop ears, some indiscernibleshade of brown-probably under layers of dirt. It had caught hisattention with pitiful whimpering; he’d found the dead mother and theremains of the litter close by. It was friendly enough, strugglinginto his lap on wobbly legs and curling up there to shiver and whine.Mox knew he was fucked from the get-go. He and Kitten hadn’t reallytalkedabout getting a pet, though. Shit, shit. Maybe if she didn’t want tohave it he could keep it at Callihan’s.
Hefelt a lump in his throat. “I jus’…I found it outside of CZ, themom is dead. Kitten, I know this is your apartmen’ an’ I don’twanna’–I mean we ain’t gotta’ keepit or nothin’, maybe let me get it healthy. I couldn’t jus’ leave himthere, y'know? S’ a street dog like me, I couldn’t-”
Kittenhalted his nervous rambling by scolding him for not going straight tothe vet with the mutt, “Look at how small he is, Jon, and how thin!Do you know how long the mother was dead for? Shit, never mind. Hangon, let me grab my jacket and we’ll go now.” She patted hisshoulder on the way by. “Hey, don’t get all weepy on me now, Mox.He’ll be okay.”
Combinedidn’t grow much bigger, stunted from his rough introduction to theworld. But what he lacked in size, he made up for in volume andaffection. There must have been Beagle somewhere in his makeup. Theguys at Combat Zone made him their official unofficial mascot, goingso far as to give him his own chair in the timekeeper’s booth. Heloved howling along with the crowd, barking as loud as he could whenCallihan and his human dad were in the ring. And he was always on hisBest Behavior.
Moxhad never really been one for drawing or writing, any of that fancystuff. He used to sing like a motherfucker, before things got bad.“No onedared to ask his business, no one dared to make a slip.”
Hewas pretty sure the only singing he was suited for now would be thatscreaming, growling shit that the kids half his age were listeningto. Good stuff to get you worked up, but not good for much else. “Thestranger there among them had a big iron on his hip, big iron on hiship.”
Hewould still sort of…half-sing under his breath when he had to pickup the apartment, clean the kitchen, that kind of thing. Usually Moxdidn’t really notice he was doing it, too occupied with his work. “Itwas early in the mornin’ when he rode into the town, he came ridin’from the southside slowly lookin’ all around.”
Hewasn’t particularly goodat singing, near as he could figure. Not that it mattered to him. Oneday though, he really had to belt something,anything, it had been a shitty week and a shitty night and he was inthe shower and she wasn’t home from work yet, so fuck it, fuck it.“Inthis town there lived an outlaw by the name of Texas Red, many menhad tried to take him and that many men were dead.”Jon was practically yellingthe words, scrubbing the bloody debris out of his hair and thenlaughing when Combine started to howl from his spot beside the tub.“Ah I ain’t thatbad, y’ little fuck. Everyone’s a critic, even th’ fuckin’ mutt.”He reached a hand out to shove the shower curtain aside and rumplethe fur of the dog, then froze.
Kittenstood there with her arms folded over her chest, looking bemused.“Really,Jon?”
Thiswasn’t something he should be sweating. They’d gone out loads oftimes, stayed in even more times. This was totally something he couldhandle. Definitely. Not freaking out right now, he had this undercontrol.
“Jon,I need my fingers.” She said quietly, and he realized that he’d hadher hand in a death grip.
“Shi-Shoot,sorry Kitten.” He apologized, quickly releasing her hand. At leasthe remembered to pull her chair out, right?
Jonsmiled nervously at her from across the table and picked up his menu.She had already opened hers, and to his dismay she looked a littleconcerned. She was frowning.“Jon, um-”
Hecouldn’t help but feel insulted. “Hey, I said anythin’ you want,remember? Please. You do so much for me, Kitten, I just wanted t’return the favor. Kinda’. I mean, you deserve nice stuff like thismore often.” He took one of her hands. “Just for one night,please?”
“Jonthat’s…really sweet and this is honestly the nicest thing anyonehas ever done for me. I promise I’m not trying to be ungrateful oranything, I just,” She paused as a waiter skittered by, lookingperturbed. “Jon, I can’t read Italian.” She raised an eyebrow.“Can you?”
Jonwas sure his facial expression was priceless. She started gigglingloud enough to make a few other people look up as he whipped open hisown menu and was confronted with a solid wall of words that lookedalmostfamiliar but there were no pictures,what the fuckwas he supposed to do to salvage this?!
Kittenended up flagging down a waiter and asking for their recommendation.Her and Jon shared an overwhelmed laugh after the extremelychatty young man had headed off to put in their order. “Next timewe’ll just get Chinese from that place you like. Sorry I took us offthe fuckin’ map for dinner.” He apologized later in the night.
“You’resweet. And ridiculous. But mostly sweet.” She half-stood to kisshim over the table, smiling against his lips.
Thishurt,like the sliding of broken bones in his fingers, calcificationturning him stiff far too early in his years. He ached in themornings when she wasn’t there, slept like shit the nights she workedlate. He wasn’t sure what the hell to make of it. Was thiswhat love felt like? All the books and movies talked a great fuckinggame if it was, who the fuck would wantto feel this way?
Hedidn’t really mean to let it get to him. He could handle getting hishead busted open on concrete, could handle the taste of blood in hismouth and the dark patches where there was just nothingand he’d come back up screaming. This was a differenthurt, yeah, but it was still a hurt and if there was anything hecould do it was take punishment, so why the fuckdid he have to say anything?
“M’hurtin’, Kitten.”
Thenext thing Mox knew her arms were wrapped around him, a hand gentlystroking the back of his head as she fucking cradledhim like a child and shit, shit,this was where he lost out like a little bitch and mumbled Ilove youinto her shirt, almost sobbing in relief when she asked him to repeathimself because thankfuckthat meant she hadn’t heard it, she didn’t need to hear it, it wasbetter this way if she didn’t know.
Hewas so good at taking punishment. It would be a shame to end hisfuckingstreak now.
69 notes · View notes
eris0330 · 7 years
Text
Whalien 52 - Part 7
Text in betwen pictures
☽M. List☾ ; 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10 // 11 [END]
Tumblr media
His sudden outburst of wanting to call, were tickling your fingers in a speed of beyond. Replying at the fastest, you were quite dizzy. You didn’t understand, what you just said ‘yes’ to. The thought of finally, hearing and getting a name, was too unreal. Seated in your bed, with your duvet cuddled up to your chest, time was ticking. Minutes has passed, and there was still no call.
“Is he nervous?” You mumbled, looking at the black screen of anticipation. Though, you realised, he wouldn’t be speaking unless you told your story. Something told you, it wasn’t worth it. But in the back of your head, there was a part that said, ‘Trust him’. Even for the little amount of texting, he didn’t show signs of being bad, except his alter ego. Your heart was beating faster, of the thought that he would be calling any minute, or was it the disappointment of another broken promise?
Tumblr media
The phone was vibrating, with your favourite ringtone blasting in the empty room. Your heart skipped, seeing the nickname dance on the screen. Your fingers were shaking, uncertain to which button to hit. Were you ready? To know who took the other half of you? Were you going to disappointed, of not hearing him? What if he wasn’t satisfied of your story? The multiple questions, flew inside and out of your head. The song was coming to an end, and you knew, in just a few seconds, the call would be gone. Biting your lip, you pushed the ACCEPT button.
Tumblr media
The call was beginning, and time was ticking. Putting the phone to your ear, you heard shuffling and light breathing. There was someone, but he didn’t say anything. To your imagination, he could have given the phone to any stranger, making you believe it’s him and proving yourself. You were opening your mouth, but quickly closed it again. Not knowing, where to start. None of you, said anything. It was just breathing, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward. Neither of you, felt like pushing each other to speak. Cuddling up your legs to your chest, you felt your heart beat at a slow rhythm. The silence and breathing on the other end, calmed you down. Closing your eyes, you took in a deep breath. Letting your anxiety and fear, disappear from your shoulders.
“I’m guessing, it’s time for me to explain?” You questioned, opening your eyes once more. The sound of harsh shuffling and something hard, hitting against the speaker. It sounded, like he had piercings scratching against the screen. Perhaps, he was nodding an answer.
“You know… it’s has been a long time since I have told, why I’m alone most of the time… be patient with me…” You mumbled, still deciding if this was a good idea. You heard a hum, of a young boy. It made your ears melt, by just hearing the little sound of another human being. Someone, finally took their time, to hear you. Nibbling on your bottom lip once more, the silence creeped again. The story, is painful and you hated, to tell others. Not because of what happened, but people always saw you in a different light, being too careful. You just wanted, to be like anyone else.
“I’m an orphan.” You blurted out, hearing a single gasp from the other end. “Or, I became an orphan” You added, again hearing a hum which was louder. You couldn’t tell if it was someone you knew, or heard before. It was deep, but gentle, quite raspy in some cases. All you knew, it was a boy.
“When I was 11, my father died in a car crash. The other driver was drunk, hitting the side of where my father was seated in. He was gone, in an instant. My mother didn’t take it well, and neither did I.” You spoke again, hearing the sound of a long exhale. There was something about his presence, that made you feel ‘okay’ talking about your past.
“The funeral and therapy, felt like it lasted like years. I guess it did? For my mother, at least.” You inhaled, remembering your 13th birthday, of finding your mother coming home like a drunken teen. Sleeping on the couch, forgetting your existence.
“She started drinking, when I was probably 12? Almost driving into other people, ironic, isn’t it?” You chuckled, hearing another hum of ‘I guess”.
“I started working when I was 14, because my mother used a lot of money on alcohol. She would rather spend a lot of money, on poison that took away her grief, for just a single moment, and getting back to reality again.” You continued, hearing the silence on the other end of the phone call.
“A lot of my neighbours helped me cook food, teaching me how bills worked. My mother, went out, now and then. Coming back, telling me the same story over again. ‘I lost my childhood first love, in a single blow and you’re still here’.” An unpleasant sound of a hum came back, making you bite the inside of your cheek.
“I didn’t have a lot of time, to be with my classmates. I had homework, school and work to do. They walked out of my life, not asking me if I wanted to go with them, during the school festival or any other scenario…” You mumbled, not wanting to remember the friends, that turned their back on you. Leaving you by yourself, in the cafeteria in the corner. Looking at the birds, who was the only creature, paying attention to your existence.
“I finished middle school, and high school quite easily. Got straight A’s and figured out I wasn’t so bad, at drawing things” You laughed softly, with a hint of bitterness. Even for your grades and creativity on paper, there was no one to show, because you were always alone coming home from school.
“When I was 17, I was in my room. Hearing the same rustle in the hallway, of my mom coming home. It was a drill, I was used to. Just, this time was different…. She came into my room. Still thinking, she was going to tell me the same story. But she didn’t.” You spoke gently and genuinely surprised, remembering her face of mascara running down your mother’s cheeks.
“She hugged me, petted my hair like she used to do, when I was a kid. She told me, she loved me and how I reminded her of my father. That she missed my father, and how she wished, if she could turn back time, she would be the one behind the wheel. That way, she wouldn’t feel this kind of pain…. She looked at me, with the same sadness, grief and regret... Telling me, how she couldn’t hold it any longer. I didn’t understand anything, of what she meant. Until, she walked out of my room, and never came back.” You started getting tears in your eyes, as you remembered the last bit. The regret, growing in the bottom of your stomach, for not taking her hand. The sound of a loud gulp, overflowed the speaker. Did he wish to say anything?  
“She left me, like everyone else…. Do I blame her? I don’t know. When she looked at me, all she saw, was the one survivor in the car crash, where her soulmate was taken…It was probably my fault, my dad died...-” You choked, with tears running down your cheeks. The warm saltwater, staining the duvet, wishing it was you who was hit that day.
“Please don’t blame yourself.” You heard a soft and gentle voice rummage in your ear drums. He finally spoke, and you were too shocked to answer. The feeling of sadness rushed over you, clutching to your phone in pain. Even though, the sound of his voice calmed you down, it didn’t take away the feeling of grief, you never got to take care of.
“It wasn’t your fault. Shit like that, happen and the only one to blame, is the drunk driver… Don’t blame yourself, for what happened afterwards… You handled it as much, as you could, with perfect care.” He continued to speak, as you bit into the duvet. His voice rang a bell in your head, as it sounded familiar. It was raspy, and rather deep, but gentle enough to calm you. A dialect, so individual, it was unclear to where he was from.
“People left, because they didn’t know what to do. They don’t deserve, to have you in their life… I will never leave you” He finished, hearing a slap on the other end. You smiled lightly, thinking he was embarrassed of his words.
“How can you say that so easily to a stranger?” You asked, letting the tears dry away. A soft chuckle made your chest warm, because it was cute. It was familiar, but still so clouded to tell who he was.
“Because you aren’t a stranger. You’re Y/N. A brave, exciting and loving girl” He whispered the last bit, making your cheeks puff of embarrassment. How could he say such things?
“I see, then you are ___, a possessive gentle guy, with an alter ego?” You joked, hearing a chuckle and confusion in his laugh. You raised your eyebrow, of the sudden silence.
“Wait, you don’t know who I am?” He asked curiously, making you scrunch your nose. “No, I can’t tell…” You answered back, hearing a gasp again.
“Well, this isn’t what I had imagined….” He mumbled, making you even more confused. “What had you imagined?” You asked, making him chuckle lightly.
“I hoped you could recognise my voice, and making you believe me easier…” He spoke. “Why shouldn’t I believe you?” You asked again, wanting to know where this was going.
“Because, I’m Jungkook… Jeon Jungkook…” He stated, making you chuckle uncertainly. “Wait, Jeon Jungkook, as in… BTS Jungkook?” You questioned his answer, making him laugh again. The sound of his voice changing, while his smile widened.
“Yeah, that Jeon Jungkook” He answered proudly, making you rub your temple. Even though, he seemed believable, because of his voice sounds the same. But, why was this too unreal, to believe.
“You don’t believe me, right?” He asked sarcastically, knowing this would come. You stuttered, not wanting him to hang up the call. “N-No! I mean… Can you blame me? I want to believe it, but…. I want to be sure, or I’m just another girl who got catfished” You chuckled, making him hum at your answer. He didn’t sound pleased, and it worried you for your chances of getting proof.
“Hang on” He stated calmly, making you get a perplexed look. Seconds later, you felt your phone vibrate again. Jungkook, started a ‘Facetime call’. Your eyes grew larger, as you accepted the call. The pixelated screen got gradually better, as you saw his messy brown hair and clean face. A smile so familiar, it made you smile yourself. He wore a white shirt, that you always saw him in. A hand was raised, waving at you while he smiled proudly.
“Believe me now?” He teasingly spoke, making you speechless. Jungkook continued to wave, as you hesitantly waved back. You puzzled it all together, seeing him on your phone screen. You weren’t a huge fan, who followed BTS everywhere. But you loved, to listen to their music now and then. Nodding at his question, he chuckled once more, making you smile in the process.
“You have been crying..” He trailed off, seeing your red puffy face. Touching your face, you felt the dried tears of heated redness. “It’s okay, I’m not crying anymore” You chuckled, cuddling up the duvet to your face.
“I don’t like to see you cry” He mumbled, examining your face through the screen. His big brown eyes, almost filling the whole screen made you blush. “So, BTS Jeon Jungkook, how did you end up with my phone? I thought as an idol, they can’t go out that much. And for a fact, I don’t go out a lot either?” You spoke again, seeing him back away from the camera. He bit his lip, knowing the story from beginning to an end, but uncertain how to tell you. Jungkook was examining the blankets, that he tucked you in that night and the familiar bed garment in the back.
“You can just call me Jungkook, it’s easier. Even though, I liked the name calling. ‘Mr. cool’” He teasingly spoke, making you roll your eyes at him. “Oh please, that alter ego is rather big, isn’t it?” You joked, making him clutch to his chest as if he was hurt. His actions and aura, was so calm that you forgot his status compared to yours. He was an idol and you were nothing, but a student who worked in an art supply shop. You wondered, why he was even speaking to you, but still believed, it was because your phone was switched.
“Where are you?” He questioned, looking at you, leaned back into his brown chair. The phone hovering above him, making his collarbones expose from the t-shirt. Your eyes were focused, but had to shake it off eventually. “I’m in my bed” You answered, looking away to see the darkness of night cover your windows.
“Oh? Is that so?” He spoke excitedly, yet suggestive. His eyebrows were wiggling, making you laugh in return. His persona and image, was way different than you had thought. He wasn’t hard to talk to, but it was a mission, getting the answers you wanted, without him wiggle around it.
“Do you know, how we got our phone switched?” You asked again, making him stop his eyebrow wiggling. His eyes were avoiding the camera, looking everywhere in the room, before they landed on you. His shoulders were high and lightly shrugging, before his lips turned into a thin line. “I don’t know” He answered, making you hum in return. Possibly, this was a scenario with no truthful answer.
Jungkook knew exactly how, but he wasn’t ready to tell. Without his side of the story, of why, he would seem like a stalker. Heck, he was close to being a stalker than just a regular bystander. He wasn’t ready, to spill his beans. He finally, got to see you again, smiling the smile he remembered. Both of you, were just sitting down, looking at each other like a mirror. The other smiled, and in return, the same came back. Neither of you spoke, despite the amount of questions. Jungkook loved the silence, looking at you with the same expression as him. He was surprised, that you didn’t freak out, of knowing who he was. Maybe Jimin was right, you were different.
“Jungkookie~! It’s time!!!”
Speaking of the devil, Jimin’s voice were boosting in the hallway in the hotel, calling for the maknae. Continuous of his name being called, made him annoyed. Knowing, he had to end the call with you. Your eyes were staring at him, hearing the voice coming closer, and closer. His mouth opened slightly, wanting to say goodbye, but his voice didn’t let him. You noticed his panicked state, closing your eyes with a smile, while nodding that ‘it’s okay’.
“I’m sorry” He explained, with a regretful face. “Go, it’s okay. Be careful” You spoke gently, making his heart flutter. If you weren’t there, he would probably clutch at his chest of the sudden skip of heart beat. He waved regretfully, and received one back, before tapping the red button.
“JUNGKOOKIE~!” Jimin burst into the room, while making his way to the maknae. Jungkook were slightly panicking, of not wanting him to know, what just went on. Jimin tugged at Jungkook’s shirt, making their way to the black van outside.
“You couldn’t have picked a more horrible time, to take me to practice…” He mumbled, as they got inside the van with the rest of the boys. “Huh?” Jimin questioned, unable to hear the maknae’s words.
“Oh nothing…” Jungkook answered, making Jimin shrug his shoulders. Everyone was ready to go and the engine made the car rumble, making their way to the concert. Jungkook felt uneasy, and fished his phone out, wanting to text you.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It was probably middle of the night, as you felt your phone buzz on the night stand. The screen lightening the room, making you notice a message. Groaning of the thought, of someone disturbing your sleep, you rolled over to read whatever had decided to awake you.
Tumblr media
The message made you smile, knowing he was thinking of you. It was probably only midnight at his place, but you decided to answer anyways.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“I didn’t get to answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’?” You questioned teasingly but tiredly, laying down on your pillow. The smell of flowers and sweat, fumed in your nose as you heard a chuckle in your ear.
“Well, you kind of did. You could have declined?” He answered, making you hum. “But where is the fun in that…” You spoke again, hearing the sound of shuffling on the other end.
“How was the concert?” You asked closing your eyes, hearing him yawn in return. “I think it went well, a lot of Army were there. It’s always a new sensation, standing on stage seeing how hyped they are. I wish you could see” He answered, putting his head to his pillow, laying on his back as his headphones filled his ears with your breathing.
“Maybe one day, when I’m rich” You joked, hearing him chuckle. “Yeah… one day” He whispered, letting the silence take over. You put in your earbuds, hearing his breathing better. Cuddling up the blanket, holding around like a koala, you felt calm. His breathing got heavier, and so did yours. When it was quiet enough, you heard small deep pounds, which was his heart beat. Jungkook’s ears were filled with your exhales and inhales, while the sound of a light ‘moan’ escaped your lips, whenever you’re getting tired enough to sleep. It made him smile, imagining this would be perfect, if it was real than over the phone. Holding you, in his arms, would be a pure bliss.
Seconds, and minutes had passed, making Jungkook call for your name in a light whisper. You were too deep asleep, to notice, making him close his eyes once more. Settling himself on the bed, comfortably enough to sleep, hearing what he loved the most.
“Goodnight, Y/N”
A/N: After this part, this is a less ‘unknown’ series, because it’s turning into a kind of.. ‘romantic story’ over the phone, how they get gradually closer, as much they talk together (Knowing each other’s names). AS WELL, having the deal of, ‘faking’ to talk with their relative or others, that will cause drama. So, if you’re into an ‘unknown’ series, this was probably the last part of that.
198 notes · View notes
Text
I wrote a short story
The buzz of the city was overpowering, being from the slums originally Adam had a hard time dealing with the noise of the business district outside of the rare occasion he would run a deal for Papa. It suited him all the more, people in the slums didn't have time for as much prejudice as common folk did. And having purple skin, black eyes, and two horns bigger than those on the goats head of a Chimera opened him up for plenty of slurs and attacks from the “Pure-breeds.”
However being here was a necessity albeit an extremely taxing one. If he was going to take on an entire Necropolis he needed first a Cleric that could be bought, and second as much holy water and godly paraphernalia (shiver at the thought) as he could get his hands on. And Vigil was exactly the place to find those, well hopefully.
“A few cold Iron golems wouldn't hurt on second thought.” He muttered to himself as he walked past the plethora of temples and shrines.
“Pharasma won't work. They'll have their hands on their symbols screaming holy obscenities before I can even get the word mummy out, can't do Caiden Cailen I would need 3 barrel's of Ale a day just to keep their short attention spans focused. Perhaps Iomadae?” Then he looked at himself and giggled a little “I'd wake up with my intestines as garters.”
Ugh he thought to himself Why does it have to be undead?! Why cant it just be goblins or even trolls although smelly trolls are rather easy once you show them you can fly on a cloud of fire. And Goblins may be stupid but they're not feral; shrink down so you don't look like a “Longshank” and throw em some meat, you'd have more than enough time to sneak out with whatever you needed. My life couldn't be that easy though could it. Literally the one thing my spells are virtually useless against.
That's it! He thought I go to Irori challenge a cleric he loses in a caster's duel, as he almost objectively could not succeed and then I only have to pay him enough to cover basic wages. He worked his way to the market place and began to sift through his grimoire and choosing which spells to use to humiliate whatever poor “pure-breed” accepted his proposal.
Sitting down near the fountain he tried to focus but kept having his focus broken by the guards yammering In the nearby alley way.
“I'm not lying there are demons crawling all over the piss pen!”
“There is no way demons got into the city without raising some form of alarm or panic that's ridiculous.”
“Look I wouldn't piss on a rock and call it rain, i'm telling you I saw something trash that house and it wasn't human.”
It was then they seemed to notice Adam listening in on their stage whisper conversation.
“What are you looking at black-blood, take your demon eyes elsewhere or ill shove you in the dungeon.”
Adam really did try not to laugh, but sometimes arrogance has it's detriments. “Boys I hate to break it to you but I could erase you from existence before tea time and have your families believing you never existed before dinner.” He stood up and clapped his book shut somehow managing to make even that sound snooty.
He started to walk towards them muttering a few words they surely couldn't understand under his breathe. They began to draw their swords but as they did they herd a firm and distinctly feline voice aggressively meow in their direction. They turned and saw nothing completely missing the small scraggly ball of fur purring below their noses. They turned back just in time to see the fiend step into the air and disappear entirely.
“Damn wizards and their cosmic bullshit.” Egrin mumbled.
“You're just mad because Ellis ran away with that witch doctor.” Rinald chuckled immediately regretting as his face became the new perching spot for Egrins fist.
“Not cool man. You said you wouldn't bring it up anymore.”
Adam chuckled from a nearby rooftop honestly applauding their ability to enjoy simpleton life. If only the gods had blessed with stupidity. He let out a heavy sigh and began to run toward the piss pen, it was notorious for its smell because that particular part of the slums didn't have a water duct system for their waste like the rest of the city forcing them to defecate in select areas of the city. Although most of them were far too hopped up on Bloodbrush to pay attention and mostly just went wherever they had fallen.
The guards didn't go there much because of the smell leaving the area at the mercy whatever thug was the current “Owner” of the territory.
Detestable but unavoidable. Maybe its a good thing I was smart enough to get out. Not the time Adam, if demons are really running through the piss pen it wouldn't take long before people started dying or depending on the circumstance more were lured out into our plane.
Adam smelled his target long before he reached it. He pushed down the desire to turn around and forget all about this nonsense. It was practically a charity for him to look into this at all.
As soon as he hit the small cluster of huts that made up the neighborhood he could see most of the destruction, all of it was peculiarly... small. Not localized to one place but very small. One of the few times perplexed could be used to describe him. Unfortunately for him this was inopportune time to become lost in thought he didn't realize this however until a small crossbow bolt lodged itself firmly into his right shoulder.
“What in the 7 Pantheon is your problem?” he screamed immediately followed by a few arcane words giving life to a eagle in mid air who promptly removed the burden of the crossbow from the citizen. “Get you demon magic out of here fiend!” The small man shouted.
“Oh hush you spoiled cabbage patch.” It was just a local who had been spooked so there was no need for further education, ignorance leads to violence. It wasn't entirely his fault but he did need answers so he proceeded to half his eagle sweep the halfling up and pop him onto the roof next to him before the spell broke.
Popping out a finely crafted wand of his own making Adam spoke the command word healing the crossbow wound and then popping a few charges of the wand into the petite but filthy man next to him. Once he seemed satisfied by the healing the halfling calmed down and stopped his rather amusing attempts at threats.
“I need a rundown of what happened but make it fast and keep to facts. No conjecture or superstition. It wastes time and my small reservoir of patience.”
Struggling to do as Adam asked but giving it a valiant effort Heither tried to recall exactly what he saw and the best he could do, sticking to facts only of course, was to explain that sometime that morning a small hut towards the center of the cluster had begun to smell. More so than usual so a few of the Copper Viper Crew went to take care of it and they claimed to have seen 4 small ape like creatures fly out of the hut spewing fetid clouds from their mouths and destroying everything in their path. Oh also they were about the size of the halfling. Allegedly he added, a light burn to the small creatures pride.
“Do we know who lives in the hut?” Adam interrogated.
“A kid named Kugak and his parents, but they're juiced up most of the time on Ale and Bloodbrush so they aren't usually home.”
“How old is young Kugak?”
“I think he just turned 12? but I cant be sure he usually sticks to himself swiping books and scrolls from stands and libraries to read. I spoke with him once and he mentioned something about becoming a powerful wizard someday.”
“Of course he did. Wheres the hut?”
Leading Adam to the hut Heither couldn't help but be fearful for the kid. Muttering a few arcane words as Adam entered he was followed in by a small pack of wolves that Heither was absolutely positive were not there on their way to the building.
Confirming Heithers suspicion Adam became to speak to the canines. “Sweep the place, find the smell and bring them back here, and you kid get out here that spell isn't going to fool anyone besides those damn Dretches.” As he finished his sentence the wolves seemed to find the scent and dashed out of the room a rod in Adam's hand illuminating.
Simultaneously the wall on the eastern side of the building shimmered and faded as a young boy with green skin and very pronounced Tusks stepped out looking ashamed. “This isn't what I wanted im so sorry!” He stuttered as he broke out into sobs.
“Stop! You made a mess and you need to focus on cleaning it up. Tears are decidedly less necessary when you realize they'll only get you killed.” He grabbed him by the chin and lifted his face up. “Mother or father?”
“What?” The boy asked confused.
“Which one was the orc?” Adam asked looking at his features?
“M-my dad, it was a raid or something mom doesn't talk about it she just kind of drinks a lot.”
“Yeah, that'll happen, anyway what did you do?”
“I don't know I was-” Adam immediately cut him off.
“That's a steaming pile of horse shit, you were smart enough to get 4 demons from the abyss onto this plane you can piece together an idea of what happened.”
“There was a scroll, that this guy gave me. I was trying to ask him about magic because he said he was a wizard and he said I could use it and get enough money to get out of the slums.”
“You believed him?!” Adam asked as he smacked him on the side of the head. “Repeat after me, We do not accept strange magical items from men we don't know.”
“We do not accept strange magical items from men we don't know.” He managed to get out despite his lip getting caught on his fang.
“Good not hold this wand.”
“Ok-”
“NO!” WOP, he smacked him again. “Did you learn nothing?”
“Oh i'm sorry.”
“Dear Lords Child, what is your name?”
At this point Heither spoke up “This is the boy I was telling you-”
“Silence he is an able bodied individual he can speak for himself.” Heither shrank back into the background obviously irritated.
“Uh im uhm Kugak sir.”
“Kugak what?” Adam asked looking at the boy down his spectacles.
“Just uh, Kugak sir.” He said ashamed.
“Seeing the demeanor shift Adam changed the topic, ok where is the binding circle?”
“The what?” Heither and Kugak asked Simultaneously?
“You used a summoning scroll without a binding circle, of course you did,” Adam began to mutter to himself while walking around the building grabbing some small things out of his bag, “then again you weren't ENTIERLY at fault,” shooting Kugak a glance,
“So what are we gonna do?” Heither asked wondering if the Tiefling was all bark or not.
Running through his options Adam looked at the boys again. Seeing a hilt on Heither's side he asked him “How good are you with that sword?”
“I'm the best halfling in my clergy?” He said tentatively.
“Well that's not the worst thing i've heard today, whats it made out of?”
“Cold Iron I believe.” He pulled the blade out and swung it a few times, letting it whistle as it cut the air. “I've never actually checked, because I haven't actually used it before....”
“Oh heavens.” Adam thought to himself, he just might become religious if the day continued on much longer.
“You, do you know how to use a wand?” Looking at Kugak.
“You point and you say the right word, basically right?” Kugak asked.
“Good job kid, take this” He handed it to Kugak. However The child stared back tentatively.
“You said I wasn't supp-” Adam groaned hearing this.
“That's correct, hello my name is Adam and now we're best friends so take this and do as I say.” This time Kugak apprehensively took the small piece of wood from him. “Now point at that bottle and say firmly but respectfully, SMAAZ!”
The wand sparked to life in his hand, three quick red bolts flew out destroying the bottle. Kugak excitedly began to jump up and down. “I did it! I did something right!”
Had Adam not heard the wolves in the distance he would have allowed to boy the small triumph but this needed to be done shortly before the guard arrived.
“Ok listen, the spell that is chasing the dretches toward us is about to fail when we head out there Heither you and Kugak need to focus your attacks on one at a time. Its the fastest way to dispose of them effectively without a binding circle we'll have to dispose of them the old fashion way. The bolts will not miss as long as you stay focused on a single target. I will keep the rest as busy as I can while you focus them. Are you ready you pint sized little churls?”
Heither spoke up, “I mean no not really.” he was calming the tremors in his hands. “I'm assuming there isn't much of a choice in the matter since a demon is telling me what to do.”
“Watch it hopper.” He narrowed his eyes, Heither’s response to the slur was to also narrow his.
Feeling his spell fade he walked out into the slums the two small ones trailing behind him. Remember what I said and you probably won’t die. They stood in a line watching as not 4 but 7 small beasts with hairless ape like bodies came crashing to a stop about 30 feet in front of them. They began to raise themselves off of the ground focusing onto Adam and his compatriots. Clouds of yellow fetid air seeping out of their snarls as their lips curled over their broken and discolored teeth. Adam thought for a moment that maybe he should send the others back inside, the beasts claws were far more intimidating than he remembered. The patchy hair at least would give the boys the notion that they were unarmored. Seeing the trepidation in them Adam began to speak.
“Lesson 1, Dretches are entirely immune to electricity and poison and resistant to most other forms of attacks like most demons from the abyss. Therefore Stab and my shoot pint sized princes” He then flipped his book open and thumbed through some pages and the dretches zeroed in on the three of him. “Aha, I knew it was in here, sruzmy vorv wzrilqdy, oudzm,” As he finished the words he looked up from the page and watched as his spell took form. Below the creatures Red tentacles began to lift from the ground and wrap themselves around the beasts catching many but not all. “You know its quite satisfying using a spell you made yourself, im going to stand here and appreciate my handy work while you two do, WHAT I TOLD YOU TOO!”
Adams raised voice caused the others to spring to life, the Halfling sped forth launching himself into the nearest freed beast opting for a whirlwind of small attacks and enough agility to avoid most of the feral swipes instead of a frontal “Stand your ground”-esque strategy. as Kugak shouted with maybe a little too much gusto “SMAAZ.” Watching with glee as the targets found their mark right as Heither sunk his blade into the beast causing it to go limp. Two more immediately replaced it but Adam felt as though they could handle them just fine, if not he could always patch them up after. Pulling his crossbow out of his belt he wove another spell and watched as two large, maybe a little too large, snakes wove into creation. He would definitely have to look into the spell later to make sure it was cast properly.
Hearing a cacophony of command words and cackling from the two beasts attacking Heither he was surprised to see the green halfing moving with astonishing grace. Avoiding almost every attack without a mistep. Almost like the thieves he had seen in Cheliax. He watched as two of his snakes began to squeeze the life out of some the beasts he had snagged with his initial spell and aimed Tanglevine, his exquisitely crafted crossbow, at one of the ones desperately fighting with the tentacle prison he was in. He zoned in and let loose an enchanted bolt, hearing the magic sizzle as it made impact was always so satisfying. Watching the creature phase into another plane was just as sweet. Reloading he noticed that the other two were still dealing with their share of the problem.
Wanting to be annoyed at the delay he decided to focus on his task and let another bolt loose sending another one presumably into one of the elemental planes. That would be ideal anyway. Regardless he didn't care as long as they were out of the Piss-Pen before the Guards could be bothered to come help the poor folk. Finishing the other two he was strangely satisfied to see that the boys had completed their objective.
Releasing his spell in time to see the guard headed that direction he shouted out, “Hey you two over here now.” Grabbing both their hands he quickly muttered a few words and they were immediately in another part of town. “So, that went much better than expected, I was fully anticipating at least one lost limb.”
“Where are we?” Heither said looking around aggressively.
“Somewhere in Vigil i'm just not sure where.”
“We're near all the bars, we're still pretty close to the piss pen.” Kugak said head down again.
“How do you know that?” Adam inquired.
“Thats the tavern my mom gets drunk in.” He said pointing to a small building with a sign that said The Cornfed Maiden.
“Classy.” Adam said under his breathe. “Come with me.” He took Kugak by the hand and walked toward the tavern.
“No wait I don’t want to go in there, she doesn't like to see me.” He said digging his feet into the ground.
“Hmm well,” Adam fished around in his bag for a moment. “This bag has 50 Gold pieces in it, you have two options. You take it in there and hand it to your mother and tell her that a Wizard of great power has agreed to train you but you will be leaving and most likely not returning for years if not ever and that gold is for the cost of purchasing her son. In which case I will see you at the town gate at sundown. Or you take this Gold and do whatever you want with it and I never see you again. The choice is yours and I hope you make a decision that you do not regret.” With that Adam turned around magically shifting his clothes into a hood and robes.
He got about fifty feet away before a small Heither runs up to him. “What was that? You can't just spring something like that on a kid and walk away like it's no big deal! You really are a demon.”
“You are incorrect on both accounts, first I am only partly demon, or rather tainted by demonic blood. Secondly,” and he stopped to look at the Halfling, “I absolutely can do this. I was born and raised in slums and I fought tooth and nail to get out. That child obviously has the potential to become something. Maybe not a Wizard but something. His mother doesn't care about him proven by the complete abandon that led to him literally opening a hole to the abyss into the middle of Vigil. If he comes with me I will teach him and train him and he will have the skills to do anything he wants in life instead of living in a literal pile of piss and shit waiting for the dysentery to set in. Now if you'll kindly excuse me I have to go find a Cleric willing to travel with a Tiefling.”
As he started to walk away Heither kept pace and asked “Wait why do you need a cleric, you obviously can handle yourself without any help? Also why did you ask for help you didn't need.”
“I didn't need it, but the boy did. The best way to deal with guilt is to actively do something to combat the wrong you did so I gave him that option. I asked you to help so I didn't have to hover over him and make him feel like he didn’t help.” He didn't want to mention that his motivations were also to see how well the halfling could handle himself in combat. “Speaking of, I forgot to get my damn wand back from him.”
“That's actually kind of … well kind.” Heither said astonished.
“Of course it is, everything I do is well thought out and flawless.”
“You are also incredibly humble.” Heither muttered with heavy sarcasm.
“Humility isn't needed when you can shape the fabric of reality with a few words.” Adam retorted.
“I disagree pretty heavily but back on previous points, why do you need a cleric?” Heither retorted.
“Why are you asking?” Adam said stopping, trying to not let satisfaction hit him before it was appropriate.
“Because I may know of one interested.”
“I need to hire one to accompany me into a Necropolis to recover an artifact I need.”
“Necropolis?”
“A city overflowing with undead creatures and energies.”
“And you just expect a Clergy member to fawn over your prowess and fall head over heels in love with your quest.”
Continuing to walk Adam replied “I'm no fool, I intend to pay them as well as make a heavy donation to the church of their choosing out of the loot pulled in the Necropolis.”
“What if I told you I recently finished my magical training and was interested in accompanying you if for no other reason than to make sure you feed the kid regularly.”
“I would say that these were a very fortunate series of events for me.” His hood hiding his smug facial expression.
“And how do you know Kugak is going to be at the gate at Dusk?”
“Because I could smell the ambition on him, partner. So go get your stuff together, leave this as a donation so your church doesn't get a belly ache and- You don't worship Pharasma, Iomadae, or Caiden Cailen? Do you?”
“Sarenrae actually.... Why?
“Oh no reason” Adam looked at the Halfling suddenly excited for the first time in a long time to be traveling with someone and said as he flapped his robes to the side spinning almost too dramatically. “See you at dusk!”  
1 note · View note