#me personally the unwanted guest makes me wanna shoot myself just thinking about it

[blue-bird-on-a-wire]

Vercopa (Hope)

gif credit: @coredrive​

Part 1 of the Gar Cuyir Yaim series

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,620

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x (Y/n) with she/her pronouns

Warnings: Jabba’s slave culture, violence, threat of unwanted sexual harassment. This takes place in a universe where Jabba never died in Return of The Jedi (maybe he passed out or something).

Summary: All (Y/n) can remember is being sold to Jabba at a young age. She has grown up within his palace walls, hears tales of great warriors called Mandalorians. Just as she faces what may be her last few days alive, a big blue Mandalorian shows up.

A/N: Hi! This is my first time posting a fic on Tumblr. You can also find this on Ao3 under B1ue_Bird_0n_A_Wire. Please feel free to give feedback, as I don’t have a beta reader and often miss spelling mistakes. Or if you feel there need to be more warnings/other warnings, feel free to DM me! I don’t bite 😊. Enjoy!

The room was always full and loud, bustling with music from the band and conversation between various criminals. It was a place full of sleemos making deals, only to backstab each other when the twin suns set. The smell of sweat left a foul taste in your mouth, but it was easier to ignore the longer you stayed. One might say this palace was full of life if not for the giant slug who controlled everyone within it. All who stayed there were either a slave through debt or in chains.

I was not so lucky as to be a slave through debt. I could not work my way out of slavery, for I was in chains.

Sold to Jabba as a girl, almost all of my life had been within his palace walls. I had been a server while growing up. Hardly anyone ever paid attention to me as I scrambled around the place. I served and refilled drinks, or cleaned up after “guests” who died by the hand of Jabba's goons.

My biggest fear, aside from the rancor pit beneath my feet, was being turned into one of Jabba’s dancers. He went through them faster than a womp rat could scurry through an alleyway at night. If Jabba’s rancor wasn’t fed by someone who failed to pay back their debt, it was fed by a dancer after Jabba grew tired of them. A pretty face would only last so long.

I had learned a lot from listening to bounty hunters tell stories about their travels. My favorites were the stories about the Mandalorians. They were warriors who lived by a strict code and valued family just as much as they valued their weapons or beskar armor.  

As a child, I would dream of these Mandalorians coming to Jabba’s palace, and taking me away. They would raise me to be one of them like I was a foundling. I wanted to be strong like a Mandalorian too, in how they could strike fear into even the most dangerous criminals with only a tilt of their head.

Although I had never seen one before, I knew they wore what was called beskar armor, and were not allowed to take off their helmets. Some people said they would paint their armor a different color from the shiny silver of beskar metal. I remember overhearing a conversation about Mandalorian traditions in regards to their loyalty and the love for their children. I painted a picture in my head of these great warriors and idolized them as the heroes in my daydreams. I never thought I would meet a real one.

~ ~ ~

“‘Nother round o’ spotchka!” a bounty hunter called as I walked past his table. “An’ ‘Urry it up, Babe!”

I did my best to refrain from rolling my eyes as I quickly made my way to the bar.

The thin metal collar around my neck rubbed at my skin as I turned my head to look up at the bartender. It was a constant reminder of my place within this hierarchy, though after so long I had nearly grown numb to the pain. 

“Spotchka please, for table six,” I said, watching as the bartender took a glance behind me to make sure there was actually someone at that table.

There were no true friends here. It was almost a rule to expect lies coming from everyone's mouth. Besides, Jabba had issues with his slaves and alcohol consumption in the past, hence the unease for my honesty (not that I had ever been dishonest with this bartender before). The bartender turned around and pulled a glass from off the shelf. He filled it with the glowing blue alcohol and slid it across the bar table.

I smiled at him, picked up the glass, and gave a nod in thanks.

Though I did my best to ignore it, my neck burned at the gesture. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on a little bit of bacta gel from one of the closets downstairs. I planned to sneak in there while no one was watching. Maybe I could find a few moments to myself as well, away from the hustle and bustle of the people in the throne room.

“Took ya long enough, Babe. I was startin’ to think ya ‘ad forgotten abou’ me,” the bounty hunter said as I returned with his alcohol. He stroked his patchy beard and eyed me up and down while I set his drink on the table.

I kept my gaze cast downward with my lips tightly pressed together. All I wanted was to get in and out without being noticed, but as I have grown older that had become much harder to do.

Just as I turned to leave, I saw the bounty hunter pick up the glass and dump its contents on the floor.

“Oops,” he said. “Guess ya gotta clean that up, Babe.”

I could feel my face heating up, knowing full well what game he was playing at. I wasn’t stupid. I had seen guests do this to other slave girls before. It never ended well for one or the other person.

I pulled a rag hanging from my belt, as it was common for me to be cleaning up spills. Instead of bending over, I chose to keep my front facing the bounty hunter and squat in order to wipe up the blue alcohol.

“‘Ome on now, Babe! Don’ be tha’ way,” the bounty hunter wined, banging his fist on the table as I stood up.

“Would you like another drink?” I asked, plucking the now empty glass from the table.

“Betta’ watch ya tone with me, ‘ittle one. I’m sure Jabba woulden’ wanna ‘ear abou’ trouble comin’ fro’ ya.”

I smiled, though it did not reach my eyes. “I’ll take that as a no,” I said and walked away to dispose of the rag and fetch a new one. I felt proud of myself, though the feeling did not last very long.

“Jabba!”

The throne room grew quiet with the bounty hunters' booming voice.

My blood ran cold and I froze in place.

Jabba finished chewing on a roasted frog before grumbling out in huttese.

“The great and powerful Jabba demands to know what you want, bounty hunter,” translated the crime lord’s red protocol droid.

The middle-aged man stood from his seat, drunkenly staggering up to Jabba’s throne.

“Don’ ya think tha’ pretty ‘ittle server ovah there,” the bounty hunter pointed at me. “Odda make a good danca?”

I thought my knees were going to collapse. I could feel my fingers twitching around the glass, and my eyes widened as I watched him.

Jabba paused for a moment before speaking.

“The all mighty Jabba wants to know what makes you say this,” droned the protocol droid.

The man looped his fingers through his belt while he turned to look at me. “She’s been ‘ere for a long time, Jabba. She’s experienced with this crowd. I’d imagine she’d make herself more useful to ya in tha’ way before her expiration date.”

My heartbeat was picking up speed with every second this dragged on. My expiration date? What, were they planning to kill me once I reached a certain age or something?

Jabba spoke again, his tone was much harsher than before.

“The great and powerful Jabba says you should not be telling him what to do.”

“Oh! Bu’ o’ course not! Look, Jabba, all I’m askin’ is tha’ ya-”

Jabba cut the bounty hunter off and spoke more aggressively.

Everyone in the room flinched back at his tone, even the protocol droid.

“The all mighty Jabba says you are in no position to be making deals, bounty hunter.”

“Jabba! Jabba! Now, wait a minute and jus’ liste-”

The overgrown slug slammed his fist down on a button on his throne, opening the rancor pit.

Gasps could be heard through the room as the bounty hunter fell into the beast’s layer.

The crowd quickly swarmed around the grates on the floor, subsequently pushing me forward as well. They laughed and jeered as the rancor was released from its cage.

I felt my stomach churn as I listened to the bounty hunter screaming and pleading for his life. I would never understand the appeal of watching a monster devour people.

At least that man would never pray on anyone ever again.

As the rancor picked up the helpless bounty hunter and swallowed him whole, the crowd let out a big cheer.

I was nearly elbowed in the face with all the commotion before the crowd pulled back and dispersed to where they had been before.

I shuffled backward with everyone, the breath I had been holding was finally released.

This must have meant I would remain a server after all.

Jabba finished laughing, and I began to leave and fetch another towel when I heard my name leave his slimy lips.

Oh boy.

I halted in my steps, dread shooting back down to the pit of my belly. I turned on my heels, knowing one should never leave Jabba waiting.

“Yes, great and powerful Jabba?” I squeaked out, quiet enough that I wasn’t sure I had been heard at all.

Jabba hummed before he spoke.

“The all mighty Jabba says the bounty hunter was stupid, but made a good point,” explained the protocol droid. “You are getting old, and your youth will not last for much longer.”

I didn't think I was that old. I must have been in my 20′s at least. If I wasn't so terrified, I might have been offended.

I tried to control my trembling but my muscles ached with the effort. Was it hot in that room, or was it just me?

Jabba gestured to some of his goons as he continued to speak.

“He says you have one rotation to learn the dances.”

One of Jabba’s goons grabbed me by my upper arm, dragging me away into the back of the Palace while the music resumed and chatter once again filled the palace.

I had no words, but my thoughts were running a mile a minute. This was it. This would be my death. Within a week I would be eaten by the seething monster below if I wasn’t sold off to a bounty hunter as payment or reward for a job well done.

I couldn't even dance! How was I supposed to learn to dance in twenty-four hours? I could probably wiggle like a Hutt, but nothing more elaborate than that!

Who was I kidding? With my only skills as a scurrying little waitress, my lack of grace when it comes to moving my body in any fashion, and my definitely-not-as-beautiful-as-a-twi'lek’-body there was no way I would survive even an hour on that throne.

Before I could register what was happening, I was being fitted into royal blue undergarments underneath a black fishnet jumpsuit. The outfit left hardly anything to the imagination. This was something I had once seen a green twi'lek girl wearing several years ago. Oola, I believe was her name. It seemed as though Jabba had someone fish her outfit from the inside of his pet’s belly. Maybe it was worth more than it looked, but I would not want to be the one assigned the task of retrieving it.

I was shoved into a secluded room, where a holo-vid with a skinny-looking rodian was showing demonstrations for various dance moves.

As soon as Jabba’s goon left, I began to watch the rodian. I stood and tried to copy his gestures and from, but ultimately I stumbled over myself and was left winded.

Late into the night, I continued to practice until the soles of my bare feet hurt. I could already feel the blisters I would have in a few hours, and I had grown frustrated.

I was about ready to completely give up, curl into a ball on the floor, and cry myself to sleep. It felt useless anyhow. The rancor probably already knew my name, and was just waiting for me down below.

I felt hopeless, at least until I began to think about those Mandalorian stories.

I was sure a Mandalorian would never give up. They probably fought until their very last breath even when they knew the end was staring them straight in the eyes.

I took a deep breath, grounded myself, and did the best that I could to fight through the pain, tiredness, and hopelessness that threatened to break me.

Keeping track of my feet while also making sure to move my arms and put on a smile was difficult. It was like juggling glasses of spotchka while walking on a tightrope over a Sarlacc pit. However, I was determined to figure it out.

I would not be a pathetic little thing who laid down at death's door. I was going to fight with everything I had, even though I felt like I was attacking a Krayt Dragon with a spoon.

Come morning, my muscles were stiff and ached. I was covered in layers of sweat, but I knew I had done all I could to prepare myself to go out with a bang.

I was led to the sonic showers, where I cleaned myself up before donning that same dancer's outfit as before. It was as though the whole outfit screamed my designation as a slave, with the revealing design meant for the pleasure of anyone but the wearer.

No matter, I fixed my hair and kept my chin up as I was escorted back to the throne room.

Sure enough, Jabba was waiting with a heavy-looking chain in hand.

He said something in huttese that the protocol droid did not translate before he clasped the chain to a loop in the front of my collar.

I had never been this close to the crime lord before, but I swore his breath could kill alone. That must have been how he had risen to power, as I just could not imagine Jabba as a fighter who won his way to victory through blaster fire or skill with a vibroblade. No, he most defiantly must only need to burp to murder everyone within the room. If I didn’t know any better, I would say the entire palace only smelled so badly because of him.

"The great and powerful Jabba commands you to sit," says the protocol droid.

It was only then that I realized Jabba had addressed me, as he gestured to a spot on his throne beside his tail.

I moved to that spot and crossed my legs as I sat there, the chain swaying heavily with my movements.

I lifted a hand to rub the irritated skin around my neck, only to flinch away as the touch of my fingers stung my skin. Perhaps touching my wounds was worse in the long run. Disappointment filled me knowing there would be no way to get ahold of that batch gel now.

I wondered how difficult it would be to dance with the giant chain connected to my collar because of the extra weight it put on my neck.

Soon enough, the crowd in the throne room was as lively as ever, with the band playing their repetitive upbeat melodies.

For a few hours, not once did Jabba command me to dance, and for that I was grateful. My bare feet were allowed a few hours of rest, while my mind was allowed to wander.

Would it hurt to die? Would I feel my soul slipping from my body? What would happen in death? Would everything go black or would there be something waiting beyond it? My mind was spiraling and all I could focus on was my inevitable doom.

That was until a new bounty hunter entered the palace.

Thud. Thud. Thud. His steps were heavy.

He was huge, dressed from head to toe in blue armor. Easily 6’6”, this man could command the room with his size alone.

I struggled to find what he was looking at, as the dark visor on his helmet left no clues as to where his eyes wandered.

Jabba laughed as he spotted the bounty hunter. He raised his arms in welcome.

"The all mighty Jaba wonders what you are doing here, Mandalorian," translated the protocol droid.

Mandalorian? Wait a minute. This was a Mandalorian?

I felt my face heat up in embarrassment while my spine straightened a little. I had been waiting for a Mandalorian my whole life, but it occurred to me at that moment I was dressed in something so revealing when one finally showed up. I hoped he wouldn’t notice me, but I was right beside Jabba which made that very unlikely.

He looked so much more powerful than I had imagined those of his creed to be. This man would be able to take on a rancor just by barreling into it, given how much he looked like a tank. There was no doubt in my mind anymore about how Mandalorians were able to tame the great Mythasaures on their homeworld.

There was something about him that was also familiar. Perhaps it was the black visor which hid his eyes, or simply the general design of his armor. I felt like I had seen those of his kind before, though I swore I had never met a Mandalorian before. Surely I must have been creating false memories for myself.

The Mandalorian paused in front of Jabba's throne, and it became apparent he made sure not to stand above the entrance to the rancor pit.

"I mean you no trouble, Jabba. I am only seeking out a bounty said to be hiding within your palace," the Mandalorian said. His voice was deep and raspy, like the rumbling of a generator just before it reaches full power.

As Jabba again spoke in his native language, I noticed the Mandalorian’s helmet tilt in my direction and his shoulders tensed.

There was no way he was looking at me, right! It had to of been someone behind me.

He was definitely looking at me, and I was trembling from both fear and excitement under his gaze. He could shoot everyone in this room if he wanted to and not suffer a scratch from it.

From the bottom of my heart, I hoped he was here for me, though I knew those thoughts to be childhood fantasies. I had lost hope long ago of seeing the stars one last time before I would die in this place.

"The wise Jaba asks who you are looking for."

The Mandalorian’s focus snapped back to Jabba. He unclipped a bounty puck from his belt. "I am here for someone that owes a debt to the crime lord, Twene Shias, here on Tatooine."

Jabba, as well as the crowd gasped. He pulled back and began to gesture wildly, which caused my chain to be inconsiderately tugged.

I tried not to choke at the movement while I scooted closer to the giant slug in an attempt to ease the pressure on my neck.

Jabba hummed before his protocol droid said, "The great and powerful Jabba, though shocked, wants to make a deal. He says he will hand over whoever you are looking for, in return for the murder of this Twene Shias."

The Mandalorian paused for a moment. "This bounty I am after is worth much less than the head of this other crime lord. Surely, as a part of one of the most powerful and wealthy crime syndicates, you can offer me a little bit more than this."

Jabba considered the Mandalorian’s words with small nods of his head.

"Jabba the Hutt says that although this is already a generous offer, he wants to know what else you might want."

The big blue Mandalorian nodded while he gestured with his helmet in my direction.

"How about her?"

Me? Was he serious?

Jabba burst into laughter, the crowd within the palace following suit.

I felt my face heat up and my heart jumped into my throat. I turned my head away from the Mandalorian, fiddling with my skimpy outfit.

I must have been dreaming. There was no way this mandalorian was referring to me. If he was, he had no clue just how useless I would be to him.

Once Jabba was able to get a hold of his laughter, he spoke again.

"The all mighty Jabba says this girl is not worth anything. She is a servant in this palace with no skill sets of value to a Mandalorian such as yourself," explained the droid. "That is, unless you are a Mandalorian with other needs."

The blue armored man scoffed. “Then Jabba can spare one measly dancer in exchange for the murder of a rivaling crime lord.”

Jabba, whose pride was easily wounded, wasted no time to correct his words.

“The great and powerful Jabba says that if this is what you wish, he will gladly transfer ownership of the girl to you after you bring back this crime lord’s head.”

I felt my heart skip a beat as my head shot up to look at the Mandalorian.

Oh my gosh, he was serious. I would belong to a Mandalorian? What would this mean? What would he want with me?

The Mandalorian puffed out his chest, “You have a deal. Now, where is the toydarian, Drob Tufme?”

Jabba gestured to some of his goons behind him, who quickly entered the crowd.

Yelling could be heard from near the bar before a hunched-over toydarian was shoved onto the floor at the Mandalorian’s feet. “Hey! Hey!” Drob Tufme shouted, scrambling to stand up. “I didn’t do nothin’! I don’t got no debt!”

The Mandalorian quickly shoved Drob to his knees, running the blinking red fob over his head before clipping it back onto his belt.

“Doesn't matter,” said the Mandalorian while he cuffed Drob.

The Mandalorian pulled Drop to his feet and gave Jabba a nod before he turned and dragged the squirming toydarian out of the palace.

There was a pause before the quiet throne room burst back to life with the Mandalorian now gone. It was as though a weight had been lifted from everyone’s shoulders.

It was at that moment a new realization came over me. I wasn’t going to die in this horribly smelly place. I wouldn't be eaten by the monster below, nor shot by stray blaster fire. I refused to allow myself to think about what my life would be like in the hands of this Mandalorian. I did not want to believe my circumstances could get any worse than they already were. Perhaps it was simply for the preservation of my sanity, but I felt giddy inside that my childhood fantasy of being taken away by a Mandalorian was sort of coming true. One should never give up on childish hopes.

(Part 2 coming soon!)

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[mischiefandspirits]

Iron Legion (2/?)

Never let it be said that Tony Stark ever does things by half. He might have grown up with little family, but he wasn’t about to keep it that way.

Tony Stark was seventeen when his first child was born, and that was just the beginning.

For Masterpost, AO3, and Fanfiction

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

Boy Wonders, Part 1

Tony Stark was twenty-six when his fourth and fifth children were born.

The first time he met Mary Parker, she was on her husband’s arm at a conference Tony was speaking at. The second time he met her, she was relaxing back against the counter of his hotel’s bar watching her husband slip off with a blonde.

“Marriages work out better if you just let each other do what or who they want. Communication and all that,” she’d explained with a shrug and a smirk when he joined her for a drink.

He didn’t remember most of what happened after that, just a few fuzzy memories of fruity drinks and dropping onto the bed in his room with the woman.

When he woke up, it was to an empty room.

He’d shrugged it off, it wasn’t the first time. And when he checked his computer and noticed someone had gotten through his firewalls, he shrugged that off too. It also wasn’t the first time, and she, like the others, hadn’t even noticed the actual security on the computer, let alone gotten past it.

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

Victoria Richards was a feisty woman who Tony had met in a club after a presentation at Tennessee Tech. He’d been deep in his cups when they met, trying to distract himself from the recent loss of Edwin Jarvis.

Then she’d come up, dirty-blonde hair falling loosely onto bare shoulders. His eyes had immediately landed on swinging hips barely covered in daisy dukes.

“How ‘bout a dance, cowboy?” she’d giggled, dropping her cowboy hat onto his head.

“Just a dance?” he’d asked.

She’d winked and grabbed his hand, tugging him up to his feet and nearly falling over in the process.

They’d both been way too drunk to think about being cautious.

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

In the two years Happy had been working for Tony, he’d seen a lot of women who swore they were carrying or had carried his boss’s child. It wasn’t a far fetched story by any means; he’d well earned the playboy title. That didn’t mean any of them were telling the truth, of course. Half of them had never met Tony, and those that did gave up at the announcement they wouldn’t even be getting anywhere near him until they passed the paternity tests.

Victoria Richards was different than all the ones that came before.

First off, she came directly to him instead of marching into some Stark Industries building or another and asking for Tony.

“Sir, you work with Mr. Stark, right?”

Happy turned to see a young woman staring at him with arms crossed. His first thought was reporter, but she was wearing a baggy flannel shirt and torn up jeans with her hair up in a frumpy ponytail. Not exactly the usual flirty or professional look reporters digging around into his boss gravitated towards.

“I work for him.”

“You his driver?” she asked, glancing at the car.

“Bodyguard,” he corrected. Technically, he was the one that drove Tony everywhere when he didn’t decide to race Happy, but that didn’t change his actual job title.

“Then you work with him,” she said with a shrug, as if it was that simple. She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and shoved it into his hand. “Give that to him, would you.”

Happy didn’t respond, too distracted by how distended her stomach looked with her arms down.

Her arms crossed again and he looked up to meet her glare. “I know what you’re thinking, and you can shove it where the sun don’t shine. I ain’t looking for money. Just wanna be sure that when my baby asks why they ain’t got no daddy, they can hate him for not being there instead of me for not trying.”

“And the child support?” Happy scoffed.

The woman’s eyes narrowed even more and she turned her nose up at him. “Like I said, I ain’t lookin’ for money,” she growled and he noticed her accent grew stronger in her anger. “I was raised on a farm, I can take care of myself and my baby on my own. I’m only here because I ain’t gonna lie and tell my baby I tried when I didn’t. I don’t actually expect anything from him.” As if to prove her point, she turned on her heel and marched off. “Just give him the damn letter.”

Happy glanced down at the note and opened it. He quickly read it through to see that it said much the same as she’d already told him, though with the addition of her name and number as well as a note that if Tony could “be man enough” to actually want to see the kid, he could, but if he tried to take them away from her, she’d do something that would really cut into Tony’s playboy lifestyle.

The bodyguard sighed and ran over to the woman. “Hey, I’m sorry, but it’s Stark Industries policy that anyone attempting to speak to Mr. Stark,” he waved the letter, “in any form, about a supposed child has to first allow for a paternity test to be administered before any contact will be allowed.”

He almost thought Victoria would just keep on walking, but instead she turned to him with a huff. “I ain’t paying to have a bunch of doctors stick all their needles in me and my baby.”

Happy blinked at her. “It should only be one needle, in your arm, and Stark Industries will cover the costs. It will all be done in house.”

She stared at him for a moment then shrugged. “Alright then, my flight doesn’t leave until tomorrow anyway. Lead the way.”

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

“Come on, Happy, you should have gotten a Happy Meal!”

Ignoring his boss’s joking, Happy accept the bag of food from the woman in the drive-through and pulled away. He drove a few blocks before parking and handing Tony his cheeseburger, fries, and drink.

He kept an eye on their surroundings as he started eating his own hamburger, only letting himself be distracted for a moment when he looked down to grab his ringing phone. “Hogan.”

“Mr. Hogan? This is Dr. Arzt. I’m calling in regards to the test you requested be done for Victoria Richards. The results are in.”

“And?” he asked.

“They were positive.”

Happy choked.

“What’s up, Hap?” Tony asked as he coughed, leaning over the seat.

“Are you sure?” he asked, ignoring his boss.

“Quite. I ran the tests thrice just to be sure, given what a positive would mean. All came out the same.”

In Happy’s defense, he was a little distracted, so he can be forgiven for not remembering what happens when his boss gets ignored.

“What would a positive mean?” Happy heard both from inside the car and coming out of his phone.

He glanced back to see Tony with his phone to his ear. The billionaire gave him a wink.

“M-Mr. Stark! I’m sorry, I didn't know you were on the line!”

“He wasn’t before,” Happy growled.

“I had to know who was making my Happy sad-y,” Tony chuckled. “So, who is this?”

“I’m Dr. Arzt, Mr. Stark. I’m the on-call doctor at -”

“Why are you seeing a doctor?” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow. “And why are they running tests? If you die on me, Happy, you’re fired.”

“Thank you, Dr. Arzt. I hope I don’t have to remind you what you’ll be facing if this gets out.”

“Of course not, Mr. Hogan, Mr. Stark. If you have any other questions, let me know.”

“We will. Goodbye.” Happy hung up the phone and Tony copied him with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s going on?”

“A woman came up to me yesterday. I brought her in and we… initiated Code Arthur.”

“Code Arthur?” Tony asked, but Happy caught him pushing up his glasses. He recognized the code.

“That was the doctor with the results,” he said, not humoring his boss.

Tony sighed and slouched down. “Positive, huh?”

“Apparently.”

“So who’s the lucky lady?”

“Victoria Richards.” Happy pulled the letter out of his pocket.

“Never heard of her.”

“Well, considering what she’s carrying right now, you’ve definitely met,” he snorted, handing the paper over.

Tony frowned at it. “How much she asking for? Or is she in it for the fame?”

“None, and no.” Tony’s eyes widened. “Read it.”

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

“Just a minute,” Tori called, adjusting the blouse she’d just been about to take off.

As she made for the door, she swore under her breath. Heaven help her, if it was Jackson Willis from down the street again, she’d be pulling out the shotgun.

She pulled the door open with as pleasant a smile as she could manage after working two extra shifts at the diner while four months pregnant. The smile immediately fell away.

She should have brought the shotgun.

“Ms. Richards.”

“Mr. Stark.”

“May I come in?”

“No.”

“Fair enough.”

Tori crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Why are you here?”

“I got your letter.”

“Clearly. So you wanted to turn me away in person,” she snorted with a smirk.

He blinked at her then chuckled. “Right, you’re daisy dukes from Tennessee.”

“Why am I not surprised that’s how you remember the woman you’ve slept with?”

He just shrugged. “I like to get around. And it’s not like the ladies I’m with are the kind to expect me to stick around after. Or if they are, it’s not because of my winning personality.”

“True.” Tori had only agreed to go back to his room because she’d been looking for some fun and time away from her pushy cousins. She hadn’t even known who he was until the next morning when she’d woken up to a note giving her permission to order anything she wanted from room service.

She hadn’t taken him up on the offer. Her parents raised her better than that.

Stark opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a loud shout. “Hey Vicky, you okay over there?”

Tori shot the tall man a glare from where he was standing on the side of the road. “Get lost, Willis!”

“This guy bothering you?” Jackson asked, ignoring her and stepping forwards, eyeing Stark.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the billionaire. “Get in here before I decide to shoot him.”

Stark smiled and strutted in while she gave Jackson a death glare. “Get off my property, Willis and stop calling me Vicky!” She slammed the door and turned to her unwanted guest. “Mind yourself, Stark. You’re only in here because I’m sick of that hovering act he’s been playing since the town found out about the baby. Now, why’re you here? If you think I’m going to the press you can relax. I don’t want none of that nonsense near me, let alone my baby.”

Stark shook his head. “Yeah, I got that from the letter. You don’t want anything to do with me or Stark Industries. Understandable.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Then why?”

When Stark started fiddling with his sunglasses, Tori felt the urge to yell at him that sunglasses weren’t allowed inside.

God help her, she was already turning into her mother.

“Look, let’s be real. I’m well aware that I’d be an awful father. But -”

Tori scowled and wrapped an arm protectively around her stomach. “If you think you’re taking them, I’ll remind you of the letter.”

Stark immediately started shaking his head. “Woah, hold on. No, nope, no way. Didn’t I just say I’d be an awful father? Horrible really. Terrible! Maybe not the worst, but up there. Down there? Anyways, no, I’m not going to take them from you. That would be a bad idea and I only have good ones.”

Tori snorted and Stark relaxed, smiling once more.

“No, I’m not going to take them, but I do want to help out.”

“Help out?” she asked and despite herself, she felt herself relaxing too. “Like I told your buddy, I don’t want your money. I can take care of the kid on my own.”

Stark gave a nod. “I’ve no doubt, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make it easier on you. I’ve done the research on the flight over. Single mothers tend to work long hours to make ends meet unless they’ve got financial backing from elsewhere or a really high paying job. I can give you either of those or both even.”

“I’m not gonna let you spoil my kid, Stark.”

“Not spoiled, did I say spoiled? No, I was spoiled and look how I turned out!” Stark mimed gagging and a few giggles spilled out of her. “No, just enough to make sure you are both taken care of.”

“Stark -”

“Look… Can I call you V? Vic? I know not Vicky, but Ms. Richards is way too formal and Victoria is way too long.”

“Just call me Tori,” she sighed.

“Right, sure, Tori. Like I said, single mom’s work a lot. I grew up with a parent that spent more time working than parenting, wouldn’t wish that on any kid, especially not one I brought into the world. I won’t force my money on you. You tell me to leave and never return, I will. I’d like to do something though, even if it’s just… What would be the typical child support around here?”

Tori gave him a blank look.

“Right, I can have someone look into that. Or a job, one that would give you both good hours and good pay. I could do that too if you don’t want money.”

“I’m not moving and I’m sure you don’t have anything out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“Money it is then?”

She snorted. “You’re never going to let me say no are you?”

He shrugged. “Like I said, tell me to leave and I’ll leave. I just haven’t heard you tell me to leave.”

She eyed him up and down then nodded. “I don’t need a ton of money, but I wouldn’t mind not having to work multiple shifts. You give me what any of these idiots around here could give me and not a penny more.” He opened his mouth and she put up her hand. “No, my turn. That’s all the money I want from you, but I also want health insurance, the good kind. And with dental and vision too.” Because she wasn’t letting Stark spoil her kid, but she also wasn’t letting them not get the care they might need just because she couldn’t foot a bill. “For both of us,” she added on because she also wasn’t leaving them alone for the same reason. “And college.”

“Of course, they’ll have a full-ride into any college they want!” Stark agreed before she could continue.

“No,” she crossed her arms again. “They’ll have a full-ride into any college they can get into on their own merits. I won’t have you bribing their way through school. I want them to do well, but I want them to be the one doing it.”

“Of course they’ll do well, they’re a St- They’ve got my genes.”

That… was a good point, admittedly. Hadn’t she read that Stark’s father had been a bit of a genius too when she’d been looking into the man? Maybe it was in the genes. Could her child be as smart as him? More so? “Either way, their own merits. And if they don’t want to go to college, or if they’re not as smart as you’re expecting, you better keep your mouth shut about it. You be proud even if they’re destined just to be a pig farmer, you hear me.”

Stark blinked at her. “Would it really matter? It’s not like I’ll be…” he trailed off, waving his hand vaguely around.

“Like hell you won’t,” she hissed, marching up to him. “You want to help out in their life, then you be in their life. That’s my next condition. I won’t have you just being an ATM. I’m not expecting you to move in or something, but you visit your kid. On birthdays, Christmases, and the like, you’re here. And phone calls in between. You got me?”

Stark was actively gaping at her. “You… You’d want me here?”

“No, I’m telling you that if you’re going to be in my life, let alone theirs, you’re going to at least try not to be a complete donkey about it. Now, do we have an agreement?”

Stark looked at the hand she held out like it was a rattlesnake, but took it. “Alright, I agree to your terms. For the record, that last one was a terrible idea on your part.”

“We’ll see.”

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Nine: Chance ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Haruno Sakura, Uzumaki Naruto, Aburame Shino, Inuzuka Kiba ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

“Come on guys, it’s not much further!”

“Slow down, Naruto! We have all day, there’s no need to rush!” Huffing, Sakura keeps climbing the stairs upward. “It’s a class trip, we should take our time and enjoy it!”

“But the quicker we are, the more we can see!”

“What, for a few seconds before you whisk us off somewhere else? What’s the point of it, then?”

“Both of you quiet down. You’re giving me a headache,” Sasuke complains from the rear, looking anything but happy. It would figure his assigned three-person group would include his loudmouth best friend and the most obnoxious of his self-described ‘fan girls’...eugh.

“Oh, sorry Sasuke-kun! Should we slow down?”

“Let’s just...make it to the top, and then take a break.”

“Oi, teme! Pick up the pace!”

“Can it, dobe.”

A few minutes pass before the trio make it to their destination: a hilltop shrine in their class’s visited city for the end-of-year trip. Sakura immediately moves to the railing, gripping it and leaning over. “Oh, wooow! Look at this view! Isn’t is amazing?”

Right on cue, Naruto leans alongside her, giving her a wiggle of his brows. “I dunno, doesn’t really compare to what I’m lookin’ at!”

“Oh, shut up - you’re the last thing I wanna see today, Naruto! We should have been assigned pairs...and then it would be just me and Sasuke-kun!”

“Or you and me!”

“I woulda gone home!”

“Aww…!”

Dark eyes rolling, Sasuke leaves the pair of them to squabble, moving toward the shrine proper. It’s inundated by more modern things like merchandise and picture backdrops. Though not a devoted Shintōist by any means, something about the sight still irks him.

For a time he’s left unmolested to wander aimlessly. Several other groups from their class have made the trek up, flocking around the various attractions around the shrine itself. A few have already bought souvenirs, judging by bags in hand and students contemplating their wallets.

“Care for an o-mikuji?”

Startling at a voice suddenly beside him, Sasuke balks as a miko - or, at least a girl dressed like a miko - addresses him with a smile. “...uh…?” She looks like a ghost!

“Just donate a five yen coin, and you can have your fortune told by the kami!” She gestures to a set of boxes: one with a slot for said donations, and the other open with small rolled strips of paper within. Silver eyes flash, smile almost looking mischievous. “O-Inari-sama would be much appreciative. Take a chance and learn your fate…?”

“...I -”

“W-wait…!”

Gaze torn at a voice, Sasuke looks over to see none other than his group members confronting another pair from a separate group. Two boys - he recognizes them as Kiba and Shino - mirror Naruto and Sakura. That being the former being held back by the latter.

Off to a side, looking unsure, is another girl. Hinata, if he remembers right.

“The hell’d you say?!” Naruto demands, straining against Sakura’s hold on him.

“Y’heard me, dumbass!” is Kiba’s shouted reply.

“Enough!”

Looking stern, a kannushi approaches and steps between the pairs. “You taint the air with your foul words! Begone, all of you!”

“What?”

“We just got here!”

“Disrespect upon O-Inari-sama’s holy ground will not be tolerated!” He shoots them all scowls. “I would ask you to leave, lest I reprimand you further!”

Trying not to look involved, Sasuke takes half a step back. Across the way, he sees Hinata do the same.

“Man, look what you did!” Naruto complains, shoving hands in his pockets as Sakura walks dejectedly beside him.

“You started it,” Kiba rebukes, much the same as Shino shakes his head.

“You…!”

“Stop it!” Sakura hisses curtly. “Let’s just go! We can hit up the next spot on the map, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

...somehow, they fail to notice Sasuke’s absence. And in the same beat, Hinata’s. Looking at a loss, she glances around before spotting him.

Great.

Crossing the courtyard a bit quickly, she asks, “Um...a-are you going to...follow them?”

“Maybe later.”

“...friends of yours…?”

He glances at the miko. “...uh...sorta…”

“Well, given you were not involved, you may stay...though you will be left behind.”

“No, that’s fine, I’ll...stay a little longer.”

Her expression turns knowing. “...so...tell your fortune…?”

Looking skeptically to the boxes, Sasuke sighs. Five yen is hardly anything...and it’s something to do.

“Um...I-I’ll take one too, please!”

“Splendid! Just put in your donation, and choose an o-mikuji. May the gods smile upon you.” There’s another coy, fox-like grin and a bow, hands in her sleeves.

Digging out the coin, Sasuke slips his in first, taking up a slip as Hinata does the same.

Dai-kichi: negaigoto, ren’ai

...what?!

Sasuke stares, expression bordered between shock and a reflexive repulsion. A large blessing...regarding a wish or desire, and...romantic love? That’s the last thing he wants right now! If anything, he gets too much of it. Girls never leave him alone! Even a few boys! He thinks to crumple it up and toss it away, but the miko speaks.

“Remember, any unwanted fortunes are best pinned to a pine tree, as the old saying goes.” She nods to one littered with slips. “Though you may find them to be a blessing in disguise.”

Sasuke nearly refutes her, but thinks to glance to Hinata. Her own face is more crestfallen, pale eyes flickering over the text he can see from his angle.

Sue-kyō, machibito

Ending curse...someone waited for. Does that mean…?

“Thanks so much for your contribution,” the miko offers. “Remember, the gods often work in mysterious ways. One closed door often leads to the opening of another.” A bow. “Now, I beg your pardon...but other guests wish to partake.”

“Er...right.” Stepping aside, Sasuke gently tugs Hinata with him. “...bad fortune?”

“...I don’t know. It might be telling me something I a-already knew…”

“You and me both.”

That earns a curious glance. “...oh?”

“...I guess it depends on how you read it.”

A silence falls for a time, but eventually Hinata offers, “We should probably, um...find our groups. Maybe they’ve noticed we’re gone?”

“Well, it’s not like they can come look for us. Not after that scolding they got.”

Hinata giggles softly into a hand. “Kiba-kun is always so loud...it g-gets him into trouble a lot.”

“Same with Naruto. Though I have to admit, it was nice being up there without all hounding...from either of them. The whole tour would probably be a lot nicer with you, instead.”

She can’t help a small jolt of surprise. “O-oh...well, I...guess I am pretty quiet.”

“Which is a lot better than Sakura and her gushing. I’m almost tempted to stay up here a while longer...but I guess there’s a lot more more to see.”

“Yeah, we don’t want to miss out.”

They begin descending the steps, each apparently lost in thought. Blessings in disguise, huh? Sasuke can’t really understand how his would be. There’s no one who’s been interested in him that he’s felt any interest in in turn. They’re all just...too much. Much like his assigned partners have been for the entire day. The only peace he’s gotten has been...right…...now.

...uh…

Hers said something about ending waiting for someone...right? And everyone knows about her crush on his best friend (well, everyone but Naruto, it seems).

Where one door shuts...another door opens.

Stop waiting.

A blessing of romance.

Shaking his head from the thought, Sasuke immediately disregards it. He doesn’t believe in all that stuff, anyway! Just a bunch of nonsense - they could have grabbed any slips and had some other silly coincidence line up!

...right?

It’s then they reach the bottom, and happen to cross paths with none other than their missing squadmates. “There you are!” Sakura squeals, much to his irritation. “Where have you -?” Noticing his companion, she comes to a dead halt. “...uh…”

“Since you two got kicked out early, I stayed and enjoyed myself. Hyūga here was much in the same boat. Thought we’d come looking for you.”

Suspicion colors her gaze, and he can’t help but enjoy it. “...but -?”

“It’s getting late - we better do our afternoon check-in with the chaperones,” Sasuke cuts in. “Don’t want to get in any more trouble, do you?”

She balks, Naruto doing the same behind her. “I-I, uh…”

“Come on.” He puts hands in his pockets, moving to lead. As he does, there’s a brief nod to his temporary companion. “Later, Hyūga.”

“...uh, b-bye…?”

Ignoring both Naruto and Sakura’s pestering questions, Sasuke fiddles with the rolled-up slip between his fingers, having elected to keep it rather than pin it.

...maybe he should take chances more often.

     Day nine! Very late in the day due to a busy schedule, but here we are!      This took some finagling (and a second attempt) - wasn't sure what to write, but hopefully this is passable! I do enjoy the occasional modern setting. And anything Shintō is fun as well!      Anyway, it's VERY late, so I'd best hop to it! See y'all tomorrow - thanks as always for reading!

[hixooushi]

I just remembered I had wrote something in class not to long ago..

My whole life I was told that I am deathly allergic to the demons. My mother, the Queen of Angels, always kept me inside the palace. She would always have me tag along with her as she does her studies or have our top guards watch over me while I do...ANYTHING. 

 It’s Monday. I hate Mondays. Everything is so loud outside the castle. Every time I ask my mother, she always gets defensive and growls at me then sends me to my room with guards right on my tail. Then later on in the day, she hugs me and says that she’s sorry. I’m forced to forgive her and forced to accept her hugs. On days when she’s really upset at me, I play the violin and wish that my father was here. But he turned on us and became the Demon King. Or at least..that’s what mother says. I have no idea what happens outside of the kingdom, let alone, the palace. I think she says I’m allergic to demons because father is apparently one. Although, I thought I heard one of the guards say to another that it’s because if I go near another demon I’ll give into their senses. Or my senses. Chile anyways--

Makes me wonder if I’m half angel and demon. I’d like to believe that. Maybe that’s why I have two large dark grey wings coming out of my upper back and two small ones coming out of my lower back. Mother says I was cursed by father before he left. I just nod at whatever she says now. Chile anyways--

“BESSILINE,” my mother yells my name as she stomps (ungracefully might I add) in  my room. “Why aren’t you dressed?!” She hisses out and grabs my arm to pull me over to my bronze and orange vanity I got as a gift from a neighboring kingdom. ‘The dress you picked out isn’t suitable for a 14 year old,’ I signed ‘also it’s purple..you know how much I despise that “holy” color as you call it.’ She breathes in and out twice, trying to calm herself. “You..you can put a sweater or blanket over your shoulders but you are wearing that dress, Bessiline,” she muttered. I sighed and shook my head, picking up my brush that my younger cousin-on my mom’s side- had bedazzled. It was pretty useless of me to brush it since it was all tangled and matted. I threw the brush on the vanity and it had caught my mother’s attention. She carefully put the long sparkly purple dress over the lounge chair and took big strides over to me. “Darling..what’s the matter?” She whispered as she grabbed a golden ribbon to put my hair in basic but ‘elegant’ space buns. ‘My hair needs to WASHED, I DON’T  wanna wear that dress, I want to MEET my father-- I.. want you to tell me things!!” I rant while signing, not noticing my mother was already finished or noticing she was tearing up. I pant slightly, shaking my hands a bit while turning around, startled to see my mother silently crying. 

I jump up immediately, feeling guilt shoot through me. I stand on my tip toes, reaching my arms and hands out to wipe her tears. I wasn’t as tall as my mother. She was almost 7 feet tall and I was barely even 5’3”. God..just image father...wait..this isn't about him..um..chile anyways--

My mother wipes her own tears and gives me a glare. “I wish you’d told me all of this sooner,” She barks out as she pushes me into the direction of the dress “so I could tell you that I really don’t care;NOW PUT ON THAT DRESS!” She screams loudly as I flinch. I hurriedly rush over to the ugly dress, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

A few moments later I’m finished with putting on the dress. I scan my room for some sort of blanket and I spot a thin white blanket I used to cuddle up with when I was younger. I rush past my mother, avoiding contact with her and throw the blanket over my shoulders, which was kind of difficult with my wings. “Bess, I-” my mother starts off but I couldn’t deal with her. So I run out of my room, heading to the ballroom where my mother’s guests are, while ignoring her and the nearbys guards calls. I straighten my blanket before opening the door. Loud music--mainly  pianos and violins-- burst in my face as I entered, rubbing my eyes a bit before I realized the guest all turned to look at me. “Now entering, the young miss, Bessiline Miracle (Bess-a-lin Meer-rac-cle)!” Our royal announcer states...Chile any-- everyone in the ballroom claps and bows/curtseys. I nod and curtsey back, giving them all a small smile then heading over to the royal chairs.

 As I do so, a certain person catches my attention. It was a very tall man..almost standing over 11 feet! And oh my cholesterol he was..A DEMON!! He notices staring and beacons me over to him. Just before I can get out of my seat, my mother enters the room and everyone does the same thing they did to me about five minutes ago. I’m conflicted. This ball is for royalty only so he must be some sort of...D-Demon King. I must look stupid right now with my eyes wide and mouth opened slightly. “Bessiline,” my mother murmurs and I'm slightly startled. I hadn’t known she was behind me. I look away from the king and divert my attention to my mother. ‘Yes?’ I sign, suddenly remembering her yelling at me and now fidgeting from slight discomfort. She notices and guilt shows all over her face. “I’m sorry my dear, please forgive me for getting upset at you,” she gulps thickly, “It’s just that I had a conversation with an unwanted guest.” And then it all suddenly clicks. That tall man..he’s the Demon King..HE’S MY FATHER!!

 I just nod, which makes her frown because I usually forgive her right away. Before she could say anything, we heard heavy footsteps coming in our direction. We both turn then freeze. “K-King Leon..how may we help you?” My mother stutters out and I'm suddenly filled with a new kind of shock. My mother never stutters. The Dem-well King Leon smirks at mothers’ stutter and looks at me. “So this is my daughter..I’m shocked and kind of disappointed  that she didn’t inherit any of our height. ‘Father?!’ I signed to my mother who looked torn. “Can we please not talk about this here?” She says to the both us, but mainly to King Leon.  He nods. “Very well..how about you give me a tour whistle we speak about this. It's been awfully long since I have been here and I would like to get to know my daughter better.” I gulp as he holds out both of his arms. I’m kind of glad I was born without vocal cords now  because I would’ve yelled up a storm about now demanding to know what the hell is going on which would've caused lots of unwanted attention. My mother walks to the right of him and puts her arm through his, trying to calm herself while taking deep breaths over and over again. I hesitate to step closer to him. “Come on, I don’t bite..that much.” He says while smirking which shows some of his sharp teeth. I nod and gulp, going over to the left side of him and putting my arm through his. Or well I tried. He was too tall. “Oh..” My mother says. “It’s all good” My father says while lifting me up and throwing me on his shoulders causing me to give a silent yelp. A few kings and queens nearby laugh and giggle at the height differences, but we don't pay much attention to them, just a glance or two. My mother leads him out of the ballroom and heads down to the hall that leads us to my private garden. “I’ll give a tour after we talk..but is it okay to enter here, Bess?” Even though I'm always with a guard or my mother, this garden is my space only. It apparently used to be my father's private area. 

Maybe that’s why I wanted it to be my private area. And maybe that’s why my father smirks and holds onto me a little bit tighter.

 I snap twice- a sign that I’d use to say yes if my hands had hurt from signing. My mother opens the door and steps in, my father right behind her but ducking down so his horns (or me) don’t hit the door frame. It was a bit chilly and the wind was a bit harsh, but my mother or father didn’t show signs of being cold. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t cold. My father had put me down gently and that’s when they both noticed I was shaking slightly. “Oh, Bessi, are you col--” “No, she’s scalding.” My father interrupts with his sarcasm and my mother scoffs while rolling her eyes. My mother pulls me to her and wraps one of her large golden wings around me and I silently sighed in comfort. My father kneels in front of me, but I still have to look up at him and it kinda hurts my neck a bit. “Bessiline..I haven’t seen you since you were only two years old..you’re 14 now..” He barely whispers out while holding grabbing both of my hands in one of his giant ones. His hands were very warm but at the same time cold. Huh. Weird. I look up at my mother to see that she’s trying to mask her sad expression with a blank one but she wasn’t doing a good job. I take my hands from him and sign ‘why..did you leave us? Me? Did you make mother mad so she’d banned you? Did you fall out of lo-- ’ I sign out in a furry, tears coming to my eyes in a rush. He quickly grabs my hands and kisses the back of them in an attempt to calm me down while my mother bent down to wipe my tears.  “Hush, don’t cry. Take a deep breath.” He shushes me. “Silence, my child,” my mother shushes me. (Well she has no vocals..how’s she making noise -_-) I gave a hiccup-silent hiccup and took a deep breath, noticing how I could see my breath in little clouds. Maybe it was colder than it appeared earlier. I sign sorry, which they both say it’s okay to. My mother hugs me in an attempt to calm me down some more but I honestly just want her to stop touching me. I may seem harsh, but I just want a bit of time to myself. “How about we ask and answer the questions one-by-one, okay?” My father says as he pats my head a few times. Once again, I don’t wanna be touched, but whatever. ‘Why did you leave?’ and both of them tense up. Interesting, seems like I struck a nerve. “Straight to the point huh, Bessi?” My mother says as she nervously giggles. “She gets that from me” My father chuckles “You weren’t even around for her to pick up anything,” mother coughs out. Father growls and before he could I clapped my hands loud enough to stop their slight bickering. 

…..

This is going to be a LONG day.