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heywardsarchive · 3 years

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If You Loved Me (Sirius Black)

Summary: sirius and y/n were the power couple, until they were not. Their loving relationship turned toxic. Will they be able to save it? Read to find out;)

Warnings: toxic relationship, kinda cheating but not really, injuries (nothing to graphic), angst, alcohol, I think that's it?

Word count: almost 4k

Pairing: Sirius Black x female! Reader

This is the request by fangirl_3004 on wattpad Hi I wanted to request a sirius one-shot where they are like 20 and have been working for the order and have been dating for a few years but he keeps flirting with other girls. So the reader and sirius get into a nasty fight and he says a bunch of mean things to her and they breakup but the reader gets badly injured in an order mission and the next day sirius realises how much he loves her and they make up.

a/n: a big thankyou to @iwritesiriusly and @tragically-here/ @tragedy-of-sorts for proofreading this ❤

*****

All schools whether magical or not have that one couple who everyone thought would last forever, in Hogwarts, that couple was Sirius Black and y/n l/n.

Sirius Black had all the girls of the school wrapped around his finger but when y/n came along, Sirius was whipped, he was wrapped around her finger. They didn't start dating immediately no, Sirius had to prove himself before he managed to get a first date. And boy was he over the moon!

Their first date was simple, a picnic near the black lake (where the rest of the marauders were definitely spying on them) the skipped rocks on the water and just basked in each other's company, by the end of the date Sirius was convinced that he had found the woman he was going to marry one day.

He lay in his bed in the dormitory and gushed about the date to James, Remus and Peter. They pretended to fake gag and passed comments like , "oh no we've lost our pads to the other side, abort mission abort mission!" But they were truly happy that their friend had found someone who he loved and only hoped that she would give him the love that he doesn't get at home.

Soon they finished their seventh year at Hogwarts, it was bittersweet going home in the scarlet train for the last time in seven years, they would miss their school but their life had just begun. Sirius and y/n had been dating for about two years then and they decided to move in together, it was only fitting since they were utterly and truly in love and besides, sirius had inherited one of his uncle alphard's homes in London which was conveniently near where Lily and James were going to live.

Everything went swimmingly for a few years and in 1979 Lily and James got married in an intimate but beautiful ceremony. Everyone tried to stay happy in a time where things were dark. The dark lord called voldemort was rising and gaining support, it was only a matter of time before a war broke out.

Lily, James, Remus, Peter, Sirius and y/n had joined the order of the pheonix, an organisation started to by Dumbledore in order to stop the growth of the dark lord.

But like they say not everyday is the same, sirius and y/n started growing apart, unnoticed by them too. Their weekly date nights started becoming monthly date nights, work commitments and other such things came in the way. Still everyone believed that they were meant to be.

"Sirius, I will be away for a week." Y/n told Sirius one night, she had been called for a rescue mission by the order, her medical skills were required. "Don't worry love, I'll be fine." He reassured her with a pat on the cheek.

Early the next morning, y/n had her things packed and she was ready to go. She kissed Sirius goodbye and apparated to Scotland.

That evening Sirius sat down on the sofa, and opened his work file. He tried to get his work done but his mind kept wandering. He sighed and shut his file and closed his eyes. It was pointless just sitting around and he thought he may as well enjoy his Friday night. All his friends were wrapped up in their own business and he didn't want to disturb them.

He put on his leather jacket, the one y/n had got for him on his seventeenth birthday, and headed out of the door. He walked the streets of London and wandered into a bar. A few drinks wouldn't hurt. He sat down at the bar table and drank a few shots. He looked around the room, it was crowded and reeked of alcohol. Couples stood there making out in the back and others danced in the middle with their sweaty bodies pressed against each other due to the lack of space.

As Sirius watched the scene, a pretty brunette girl with electric blue eyes walked up to him. "Care for a dance?" She looked him up and down and asked. Sirius was about to decline but then decided to go for it. What did he have to lose anyway? It wasn't like he was cheating or anything, it was just one dance right?

He allowed the girl to pull him to the dancefloor. There he drank a few more shots and danced like there was no tomorrow. Soon it was midnight, sirius decided it was time to leave. As he was about to head out, the girl who's name sirius did not know decided to kiss him. Sirius almost kissed back but then y/n's face flashed in his mind and he pulled away quickly. "I can't do this." He said almost hesitantly and rushed out of the club.

He sat down on the sidewalk and put his hand on his head. Sirius couldn't understand why he almost kissed back when he absolutely in love with y/n. He shook his head, stood up and apparated home. His head couldn't handle it along with the alcohol.

He spent the next week buried in work, trying to distract his mind from thoughts he wished he didn't have.

It was on Friday night when y/n finally returned. A distinct pop sound echoed through the room. Sirius rushed out to greet her. He was dressed messily, his hair tousled from laying on the bed and his shirt wrinkled. "Hello love, you're back." He smiled wrapping his arms around her in a hug. As he took in her familiar scent, he realised that what happened at tha bar was a mistake and there was nothing wrong with his love for the girl in his arms.

He pulled away to take in her appearance. She had a few cuts and bruises littering her arms and face, otherwise she looked fine. "How was the mission?" Sirius asked, his grey eyes brewing with concern.

"It was fine." Y/n shrugged. "Managed to get hold of a few death eaters and interrogate them." She pulled Sirius info another embrace and sighed. "it's good to be home." A simple statement such as that made sirius feel extremely guilty. He had to tell her what happened. Not then, soon. He would tell her.

Sirius spent many a sleepless night with the guilt eating him from inside. He decided that it was time he came clean.

He woke up before y/n the next morning and drank his coffee, and made her a cup too. Soon y/n came down the stairs rubbing her eyes tiredly. "You're up early." She pressed a kiss to his cheek before drinking a glass of water and eyeing him carefully. "What's wrong?"

Sirius looked up as though he had been snapped out of a trance. "Uh with me? Nothing. Why do you ask?" He stuttered nervously.

"Don't lie to me siri, I can read you like a book." She spoke with such tenderness in her eyes that sirius wanted to slap himself for being so stupid and almost kissing the blond girl back in the bar. Well, he had to tell her. It was now or never.

"Actually something is bothering me. Remember when you left for the mission a few weeks back?" Y/n nodded. "Well that night I went to a bar, because I was unable to concentrate and-"

"You're guilty because you went out to drink without me? Oh sirius that's nothing to worry about!" Y/n cut him off.

"No, that's not it. Let me continue. So I drank a few shots and got a bit tipsy and soon I ended up on the dance floor. Now, before you hear this I want you to know that I'm very guilty about what happened." At these words y/n's brows furrowed and she looked at sirius intently.

"I was about to leave when a blond girl who was dancing in the group I was in kissed me. I didn't kiss her back though-" Sirius defended himself.

A series of expressions flashed through y/n's face. First sadness, hurt and betrayal. "Did you think about kissing back?" She gripped the counter top hard, her knuckled turned white.

"I- I didn't kiss her back! Please understand y/n! I love you I would never hurt you this way." He tried to defend himself reaching out to hold her hand.

"No! Answer my question. Did you think of kissing back? Be honest." She looked firm and sirius knew he couldn't lie to her.

"I- ok yes I did. But I didn't. Your face flashed in my head and I couldn't bear to do anything more. So I pushed her away and left that instant." He said honestly. Sirius looked at y/n hoping that she'll forgive him, now that he was honest. But all he was met with was her steely gaze eyeing him sharply.

"I thank you for your honesty. I really do appreciate it. But the fact that you almost kissed her back speaks volumes. I think it's better that you give me some space to think." She spoke calmly. The calm before the storm. Sirius wished she yelled at him, and eventually forgave him but alas, that didn't happen.

**** July 1980

Lily and James were blessed with a beautiful baby boy whom they named Harry. He had his mother's stunning green eyes and his father's dark hair. He was the light that lit up a dark room, or in the case of the marauders and lily and y/n, their dark lives.

Things were not looking up for sirius and y/n's relationship. After y/n asked for space, she pondered over whether the relationship she had with Sirius was worth fighting for or not. She loved the man, ofcourse she did not know if he would stay faithful to her forever, that was just one incident. Who knows how many would occur? But eventually she gave in and decided to mend their broken relationship.

January 1981

The happiness of sirius and y/n's mending relationship didn't last long. In the order, Sirius was obviously the attraction of many single women, they all flirted with him hoping to catch his eye. He ignored their attempts at first, but after a fight with y/n over a trivial matter he decided to flirt back just to spite her.

Their relationship was getting toxic. Everyone could see it. Sirius and y/n would fight over small things and in retaliation, sirius would flirt with other girls. It became so bad after a point that the two of them wouldn't even look at each other for weeks at an end.

James, Remus and Lily were worried about their friends. Everyone thought that their fights would stop but it only got worse.

One day Lily and y/n had a girls day in (with Harry ofcourse, y/n loved her godson) and she voiced her concerns to the (h/c). "Im worried about you, love. All you and Sirius do is fight. And when you fight he goes out and flirts with other girls. Don't you think it's time you break things off with him? Or try fix your differences?" She reasoned placing a hand on her knee.

Y/n sighed and placed her head on top of Harry's, who was sitting on her lap. "I have thought about it ofcourse, but I still love him." "Even after everything I love him. And besides, if we break up what will happen to our friend group? I love you and James and Remus and Peter, it's just that I may never see you again if we separate." "And if I'm being honest, I still have a small bit of hope that the old sirius will return, the one I fell in love with."

Lily pulled the girl into a hug. She was sobbing at this point and Lily wanted nothing more than to end her hurting. "Talk to him. Make him understand, if you can't leave him, try to get him to understand." She said still holding y/n in a hug.

She sniffed. "You're right. I'll talk to him."

*******

June 1981

Y/n never did get around to talking to Sirius. She kept putting it off and avoiding the topic as much as she could. Everytime she would meet Lily, she would tell her the same thing and y/n gave the same reply. "I will, eventually."

Disaster fell upon the group when the dark lord decided that Harry was the baby who was destined to kill him. Since he was on the lookout for James and Lily, they had to go into hiding. Peter was made the secret keepers, the world belived it was sirius but no one knew of the real secret keeper.

The order was on high alert and most of the members were killed or in hiding. The last few remaining were Remus, y/n, Peter and Sirius among others. Due to this, sirius and y/n didn't have much time to fight with each other which was a nice change to their lives.

It all came crashing down once again when Dumbledore approached y/n to go on a mission, a dangerous one to find out who the traitor in the order was. She agreed, anything to figure out who the awful human was who decided to give information about lily and James and pose a threat to their safety. She graciously agreed.

Sirius was furious when he got to know that she agreed to such a dangerous mission. "Are you insane?!" He slammed the door shut. He was running his fingers angrily through his dark hair. "What do you mean?" Y/n asked him.

"You took the mission bloody well knowing it was a suicide mission. You won't survive this!" He slammed his fist on the table.

"Oh so now you care about me?" Y/n slammed her book shut and stood up and jabbed her finger in his chest. "After so long! Did you not care about me earlier? When you flirting with all those girls!" She screamed, equally fumed.

"STOP CHANGING THE TOPIC!" Sirius yelled.

"All we do is fight Sirius, I can't take it anymore." Y/n replied in a small voice.

"What?" Sirius asked, his anger melting away. "What do you mean?"

"I think it's better if we just end it. Right here. Right now. It's best for both of us." Her voice broke.

"No you can't, you can't just walk away!" Sirius cried out. But y/n didn't reply. She shook her head and apparated away. It was then when Sirius allowed him to think about all the months they spent fighting and it hit him of how bad a boyfriend he had been.

*****

October 1981

Four months. That's how long it had been since y/n walked away from sirius that day. Three months since she went on the mission to find out who the traitor was. Sirius was broken without her. He couldn't meet his best friend, and so the only person left was Remus who was probably tired of hearing Sirius repent for his mistakes.

Sirius regretted everything he had said to y/n everyday since she left. He barely left his house, he had become the shell of the man he once was and it was all his fault. He wondered if she was as hurt as he was, but another part of him hoped she was doing okay, he never wanted to break her heart which he swore to himself he would keep forever. He kept an eye out for letters from Dumbledore, or anyone for that matter hoping to get a shred of information of where y/n was and if she was safe, well as sage as she could be.

As for y/n, she apparated to her parents house after she left sirius in their house. She cried herself to sleep for a week but once she had no tears left to cry, she decided that it wasn't worth crying over someone who didn't appriciate her worth. She started preparing for her mission and spending as much time as she could with her parents because there was a chance she would not return in one piece from the mission.

******

Finally a few days later on October 27 1981, he recieved a letter from Dumbledore telling him that it was urgent and that Sirius had to arrive at the location with Remus that very instant.

The two of them arrived at the order safe house a few minutes later and rushed in. "What's the matter professor? Is everything alright?" Remus questioned but sirius' eyes were fixed on the bed in one of the bed rooms where he could see y/n's figure resting on the bed.

"What happened to her?" Sirius questioned urgently interrupting whatever conversation was going on between Remus and Dumbledore. "Ah. I knew you would ask. Well, y/n figured out who the traitor was but unfortunately she was cornered and attacked in an isolated alley, there were no eyewitness and so there is no way to know who did it to her."

Sirius' eyes widened and he was about to go rushing to y/n's side, but Dumbledore stopped him by placing a hand on his wrist. "Don't you want to know who the traitor was?" Dumbledore asked. Sirius and Remus nodded. "Peter." Dumbledore looked disappointed.

"Peter!" Remus cried out in disbelief. "How could he do such a thing? We trusted him with our life!"

"Im going to kill him. Look what he did to her!" Sirius said angrily.

"You don't have to." Dumbledore started. "Y/n already took care of him. When she found out what he did, she cursed him and he's now in ministry authority."

With that Dumbledore left. Sirius and Remus stood there staring holes into the ground. "Do you think, she'll forgive me?" Sirius asked Remus sadly. "I think I realised how much I love her after she left me." He gulped. "You dug yourself in this hole, now you get yourself out." Remus clapped his shoulder and entered the room where she lay, unconscious.

Sirius stood outside for a while before he decided to enter the room. There was healer with her who kept an eye on her heart rate. "Whats happening madam?" He asked the woman. She sighed and rubbed a hand against her forehead. "Hard to say, she was attacked pretty badly. She may remain in this comatose state for a week, a month, she may not even make it."

The words died in sirius' throat. Not make it? She couldn't just die? Y/n was the strongest woman he knew. He couldn't live with himself if the last conversation they had was them fighting. He swallowed the lump in his throat and sat down beside her bed. He held her hand and observed her face. The sunlight fell on her face and highlighted her features. He pushed away a bit of hair from her face and took in his peaceful y/n looked albeit she was covered in cuts and bruises.

*****

December 1981

It had been two months since Peter had been outed as a traitor and in those two months. Y/n was still unconscious and Sirius spent most of his waking hours by her bedside. With the help of veratuserum, Peter had confessed the names of all other death eaters and voldemort's plans. Dumbledore and the aurors were able to figure out a way to kill him and succeeded.

Once it was safe, Lily and James along with Harry came to visit y/n. "You look terrible mate." James said pulling his best friend into a hug. It had been almost a year since the two saw each other last. "Yeah well, I certainly feel terrible." He said honestly. James gave him a sympathetic glance before joining Lily who was sitting at sirius' spot beside y/n. She looked devastated at seeing her best friend in such a state. James smiled at her sadly while Harry babbled happily to himself.

"Are you all family?" Rushed in the healer who had been treating y/n.

"Yes, why?" James asked curiously.

"We have bad news. We have checked miss y/l/n's reports and if she doesn't wake up soon, she may not make it. " She said sadly.

Tears welled up in the eyes of everyone present there. It was hard to see y/n who was always so happy and bubbly lie there on a bed unconscious and almost dead. Sirius knelt before her. "I know we fought before you left, but please wake up. I can't live without you, I realised how much I loved you only after you left. Come back to me, to us I swear I'll be better. Please y/n/n." He kissed her hand that was slightly cold.

Call it dramatic, but a few moments after that y/n's eyes fluttered open. "Sirius?" She said softly. She looked pale and her eyes didn't have the shine they used to.

"Where am I? Did they catch Peter?" She asked confused. Lily reached forward and hugged her friend tightly. "You're in the order safe house, you've been here since the past two months. You're okay now, and they caught Peter. Soon all this will be over." She smiled happily.

Y/n sighed happily. Her gaze fell on everyone in the room but when it landed on Sirius, her smile fell a bit. "I think we should talk about what happened earlier." Y/n said to him. "No! You've just woken up, you're still weak." He protested. "I think it's better we get this over with." She said firmly. Sirius sighed and walked over to her. Everyone else left the room.

"Im sorry about the way I acted, I was scared for you." Sirius started. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. Im sorry I hurt you so bad, it wasn't my intention. I promise I will never ever hurt you again." He finished earnestly.

"How do I know I can trust you again? You promised you loved me the first time and yet you did it again and again. We were toxic for each other Sirius, I don't think we're good for each other." Y/n told him.

"I understand how you feel but if you give me a chance to prove myself, I swear I'll be better." He grabbed her hand.

She sighed and sirius started to lose hope. "This is the final chance I'll give you. I want to be friends first, and take it from there. I don't promise you anything." A small smile played on her lips.

Sirius wanted nothing more than to be loved by her, as a friend or as a lover. That evening, all five friends sat together talking like they were back in Hogwarts and nothing was wrong.

Maybe everything would be fine.

******

A/n: ngl i was planning to tweak the request and kill off the reader but I felt nice and decided against it, you're welcome 😌

taglist (strikethroughv means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you): @emilianamanson @itsarandomsparkle

#sirius black x reader #young!sirius black x reader #harry potter x reader #angst #sirius black x you

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dimigex · 3 years

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I Won’t Lie - Kakasaku

It’s finally done!! I started this piece years ago but never finished it. It’s the follow on to my story Distraction, but you don’t have to read that to understand it at all.

Distraction, I Won’t Lie, Part One, Part Two, Epilogue

Here’s the first part, the rest is linked above and also available on FF.

"So, have you put the moves on the Hokage yet," Ino questioned, applying black eyeliner with a practiced flip of her hand. Her aqua blue eyes stood out in sharp contrast, seeming larger than they had any right to.

Sakura groaned from the bed, falling back to cover her face. "I never intended to put the moves on him," she mumbled, hoping that Ino wouldn't be able to see the crimson flush of her cheeks. "And, it didn't work anyway. Kakashi doesn't know that I exist."

Ino jerked the pillow away and leveled her best friend with a stare. "He definitely knows that you exist, but you need to remind him that you're a woman now, not a little girl." Her gaze swept over Sakura from head to toe. "Why don't you put on something a little more interesting tonight?"

"What's wrong with what I have on?" Sakura frowned at her outfit. Okay, the leggings that she wore were more comfortable than provocative, and her mother would have approved of her shirt, but that didn't mean there was anything wrong with it. She always dressed like this when they went out. It wasn't her fault that Ino had more outfits than any other girl that Sakura knew, and an uncanny way of making everything look sexy.

"Nothing," Ino answered, with a smile curving her cherry-red lips. "As long as you want to die old and alone."

Sakura threw the remaining pillow at Ino's face, narrowly missing. "Shut up, Ino-pig," she grumbled, reverting to the insult that had become a friendly nickname over the past few years. Sakura tugged at her shirt for a moment, chewing her lip "If I agree, can you make it look like I'm not trying too hard?"

A grin split Ino's face. "Of course. We have to find just the right outfit to show off that body you worked so hard for."

Before Sakura could protest, the blond pulled her off of the bed and toward the closet. Nearly an hour later, Sakura examined her expression in the mirror, shocked at the illusion that Ino had created. Long lashes framed her green eyes, making them stand out against her pale skin. The faint dusting of freckles that Sakura usually hated had taken on a soft glow from the highlighter Ino used. Glossy lips completed the expression, in a shade lighter than Sakura ever thought she could pull off. Ino hadn't stopped there. She'd transformed Sakura's hair as well. The pale tresses piled on top of her head, falling in artful curls around her face.

Ino pulled Sakura from musing about how she looked like an entirely different person by tugging on the dress. The blond dragged the black fabric to the side, baring one shoulder. It draped Sakura's body, accentuating enough to suggest that she had more curves than she really did. Chuckling, Sakura pulled the fabric toward her knees. Ino slapped her hands away. "Stop that, it's supposed to be short."

"I can't wear this," Sakura complained even as she turned to admire herself from the side. It hugged her body in a way that none of her other outfits had.

Shaking her head, Ino walked over to the closet and tossed a pair of heels to Sakura. "You can, and you will. No one will be able to keep their eyes off you, especially not Kakashi."

Color flamed in Sakura's cheek, hidden somewhat by the makeup. "What if he isn't there?"

Ino's devious grin made Sakura nervous. "Then you'll go home with someone else. You look too damn good to go home alone tonight"

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

When Ino and Sakura swept into the pub nearly half an hour late, dozens of heads swiveled in their direction. Ino linked an arm through Sakura's and pulled her into the room before she could back away in a fit of self-consciousness. Her gaze swept over the people gathered for Naruto's birthday, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Kakashi wasn't there yet or not coming at all, everything they'd done had been a waste of time.

Forcing the hopelessness down, Sakura caught sight of an overbearing ball of sunshine cutting through the room. Naruto's grin probably had more to do with the atmosphere than alcohol, but she couldn't be sure. He threw an arm around Sakura's shoulder and pulled her into a side hug. "I was beginning to think nobody from my team was going to show up tonight."

When Naruto released Sakura, his blue eyes slipped lower than her neck. The blush on his whiskered cheeks was obvious even in the dim lighting. "You look nice tonight. I mean, not that you don't always look nice-" Sakura's laughter cut off the awkward exchange, and Naruto managed a nervous smile before rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't think Sasuke is going to make it tonight."

"Unfortunately, Sasuke's mission has him delayed outside the village." The proximity of Kakashi's voice made Sakura jump. When she turned, she realized that he stood just inside the doorway behind them. Their gazes locked, and Kakashi's eyes widened, perhaps only just now realizing that she'd been the one standing with Naruto. While pink hair was unusual in the village, a few girls had started imitating Sakura after the war. She hated it, but the element of surprise was nice.

Ino unwound her arm from Sakura's and moved away to speak to someone that Sakura didn't recognize. Completely oblivious of the tension of the moment, Naruto caught Kakashi with his other arm and pulled them both into a hug. Sakura felt the warmth of Kakashi's chest against her side. "I'm glad you two made it, at least."

Kakashi pulled away, chuckling in the back of his throat. "Of course I came, I have to keep an eye on you kids to make sure you don't get into any trouble."

"We aren't kids," Sakura grumbled, challenging Kakashi with a glare through her mascara lengthened lashes. "We're adults now."

"That's right, sensei. We don't have to listen to you anymore." Naruto laughed, giving Kakashi a cheeky grin.

Kakashi frowned, the barest movements of his mask. "I'm still Hokage, though."

"For now." Naruto's banter eased the conversation into playful jabs that allowed Sakura to stay silent. Kakashi hadn't even responded to her comment about being an adult now. Her heart sank lower in her chest.

As the men exchanged barbs, Ino reappeared from wherever she'd been. Grabbing Sakura's hand, she led them to the bar. "It's pointless," Sakura complained, leaning close so that the words would only be loud enough for Ino. "He'll always view me as a kid. I'd be better off chasing Sasuke."

"Absolutely not," Ino hissed, vehemence dripping from her voice as she raised a hand to order drinks. "Sasuke isn't even on the radar for you. Do not put yourself through that again."

Sakura nodded and toyed with the silver teardrop earring that Ino had loaned her. She knew that Sasuke was a bad idea. The boy had never acknowledged her, not really. And now, it was the same with Kakashi. At best Kakashi saw her as the child that he'd mentored years ago. At worst, the annoying girl that she'd been during those early days. She'd never change that.

"Let me tell you my secret, Forehead." Ino shoved a shot glass into Sakura's hand. "It just takes five seconds of insane courage to get whatever you want. That's it. Just five seconds of bravery, then the hard part is over. You either have the thing you want or you don't, but at least you'll know."

"Is that how you landed Sai?" Sakura asked, closing her grip around the glass of liquid courage without questioning what was inside it. The idea that Ino actually liked Sai and wanted to be with him when there were so many men that she could have had was something that Sakura had trouble wrapping her mind around.

Ino laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. "Yes, Sai. And, all the others."

Gossip suggested that Ino had worked her way through half of the eligible shinobi in the village. There was a great deal of truth to it. Ino had dated Shikamaru for a couple of weeks before the pair decided that friendship was less troublesome than a relationship. She and Kiba had been fireworks from the beginning, fighting almost constantly. Choji was too gentle, Lee too exhausting, Shino too quiet, and the list went on and on. Somehow, Ino landed on Sai and found that the man matched her surprisingly well. Sakura had already noticed the girl looking for him in the crowd.

"Drink," Ino commanded, nodding toward the alcohol. Sakura steeled her nerves and tipped the glass up. The liquid burned the entire way down, making her gasp for a breath. Ino clapped her on the back. "Good, now let's go and find someone to make him jealous over."

"Ino, no." Sakura pulled away from her best friend with a firm shake of her head. "It doesn't matter. It's just a silly crush."

The look on the blonde's face suggested that she didn't believe Sakura's excuse, but she didn't force it. Sakura let her gaze wander over the people brought together to celebrate Naruto's birthday. He had touched so many lives, and since the war, most people recognized that. Naruto had wanted to do something at Ichiraku, but the stand was too small for all their friends. They'd made arrangements for the celebration to be held here, but white bowls of ramen dotted most of the tables.

Kakashi drew Sakura's eyes like a beacon. He stood in the shadows beside Captain Yamato, heads close together as they spoke. It had surprised Sakura to learn that the men were old friends, especially since Kakashi held so many people at a distance. Sakura and Naruto had grown closer to him, of course, but there didn't seem to be many others. Tsunade and the other jonin perhaps, but the ease between Kakashi and Yamato spoke of actual friendship. Sakura felt a twinge of jealousy. Why couldn't it be that easy for her?

Ino leaned close, the scent of alcohol drifting from her lips. "You know, Yamato isn't bad looking either."

Sakura considered the words. While Yamato didn't hold the aura of mystery that Kakashi did, his easy smile and kind eyes made him attractive in his own way. Even so, no matter how much Sakura watched the pair, her eyes strayed to Kakashi. As she'd expected, he'd worn his uniform to the party. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up against the heat of the room, while his hands were tucked into the pockets of matching pants. Kakashi's mask remained in place, of course, but the headband that used to slant across half of his face was missing. Two charcoal eyes stared out at the room, silver hair falling into them.

"Oh, it's definitely just a little crush," Ino teased, pulling Sakura from her longing gaze. "Why don't you just go and talk to him? Ask him to dance or ask him back to your place. Just do something besides staring at him."

When Sakura started to protest, Ino rolled her eyes. "Come on, I've seen you kick ass so many times, but you're scared to talk to a boy? The worst thing he can do is turn you down. And, if that happens, it's his loss."

It isn't that easy, Sakura started to argue. Only, she knew that it was. She'd been pining after Kakashi for months, treasuring stupid, little moments that probably meant nothing: the way that his arms had curled around her on the training field, how his eyes lit up when he laughed at her joke about Tsunade trying to kill them both with reports, or the startle when her fingers had brushed his wrist. Those things made her wonder if there might be something more, but Kakashi was impossible to read. The sudden intake of breath when Sakura touched him could just have easily been discomfort as desire.

"I think I need another drink," Sakura declared, putting away the miserable thoughts for another day.

It didn't take long for the pleasant warmth of alcohol to loosen the tension that seemed permanently attached to Sakura's shoulders. She relaxed enough to dance a couple of turns with Naruto. He was far more awkward on the dance floor than any shinobi had the right to be. After two dances, Sakura begged off and pushed him toward Hinata. A few months ago, the girl had finally gotten brave enough to let Naruto know that she liked him. The pair was slowly turning into a couple, but the transition was painful to watch. They were both too shy for their own good.

Sakura stumbled back toward the bar, surprised to admit that she was having more fun than she'd thought she would, even if Kakashi ignored her. As she reached for her glass, Ino flashed a pleasant grin that warned Sakura that the girl was coming up with a plan that Sakura wasn't going to like. Without explaining anything, Ino linked their arms and dragged Sakura back into the crowd. Three steps into the walk, once she realized where they were going, Sakura tried to stop the inevitable. But, it was too late. Ino stopped beside Kakashi and Yamato.

The men looked up in surprise, their conversation stopping abruptly. Sakura felt Kakashi's gaze on her face for several heartbeats before it slid toward Ino's. With another signature grin, the blond moved into Yamato's personal space. "You sent my boyfriend on a mission just before the party, and now I have nobody to dance with. It seems only fair that you take his place." Ino held out a hand expectantly.

"Um-I-uh-it was unavoidable," Yamato stammered, a delicate pink blush tinting his cheeks. Sakura almost rolled her eyes. It was pathetic to watch how easily Ino turned him, or any man for that matter, into a stuttering mess simply by batting her eyelashes. She'd thought Yamato was better than that.

To Sakura's surprise, it was Kakashi who spoke next. "I think she has a solid case." Yamato gaped at the man, but Kakashi continued as if he hadn't seen it. "You deprived her of enjoying the evening; you should make up for it. Within reason, of course."

As the implication hit home, the pink on Yamato's cheeks deepened to crimson. Sakura struggled not to laugh at his expression. Ino cleared her throat, moving her hand closer. For a moment, Sakura wondered if Kakashi was going to have to push the man forward. Finally, Yamato dipped his head and took Ino's hand. Sakura couldn't stop her mirth as the pair disappeared onto the dance floor. "He's going to be furious with you later, you know that right?"

"It's good for him. Yamato is too shy." Kakashi leaned his shoulders against the wall, and for a moment Sakura couldn't take her eyes off of the smooth stretch of his body and the way his armor shifted with the movement. Half a second later, she realized that he'd said something. Deciding that it probably wasn't important, she nodded and he continued. "Of course, she doesn't mean anything by it, does she?"

Sakura shook her head, watching as Ino attempted to guide Yamato's hands toward her hips as she moved to the music. He kept moving them back to her waist, embarrassment obvious. Sakura chuckled under her breath. "No, she's quite taken with Sai actually."

"Our Sai?" Kakashi asked, eyebrows rising in surprise.

Sakura nodded, watching as Yamato finally relaxed into the dance and loosened up a bit. "She and Sai balance each other well, like Naruto and Hinata."

Kakashi followed Sakura's gaze toward the bar where Naruto and Hinata were talking. The blond leaned against the edge, telling some kind of story while the girl gazed up adoringly. Two years ago, she'd been too frightened and embarrassed to speak with him, and Naruto too stupid to realize why. With a little gentle prodding, they'd finally caught on.

Kakashi made a sound that might have been agreement in the back of his throat. "You're all pairing off these days, falling in love and getting married."

"Not all of us," Sakura grumbled. Frustration bled into her voice as she continued. "Some of us accepted the weight of duty instead."

A silver eyebrow arched skyward as Kakashi turned to face Sakura. A look of understanding crossed his features, but Sakura doubted that he realized she was talking about him as well. Undeniably handsome, Kakashi could have his pick of women in the village, but he remained alone. He had thrown himself into the role of hokage, even though he hated it. Sakura had done the same at the hospital, though she enjoyed her work for the most part. The two of them weren't as different as he seemed to think.

A stir went through the room. Naruto pushed away from the bar, his voice cutting through the din of music and conversation. "You made it!'

As much as Sakura wanted to continue admiring Kakashi, her attention drifted toward Naruto. He stood in the doorway, arms thrown around-Sakura's mind temporarily shorted out, taking several seconds to catch up with her eyes. Sasuke stood in the spill of light, Naruto's arms wrapped around his shoulders. Raven dark hair and equally black eyes swept through the crowd, taking in everyone and everything. His gaze slid over Sakura, then returned and lingered.

Despite everything, Sakura blushed under Sasuke's gaze. Beside her, Kakashi shifted away from the wall. A hand pressed almost imperceptibly against Sakura's lower back as Naruto approached, Sasuke trailing behind like a shadow. Sakura half turned toward Kakashi.

Naruto interrupted the pair before Sakura could get her thoughts in order. "Look guys, Sasuke made it back in time."

"So, he did," Kakashi answered for both of them, voice cool but not quite unfriendly. "Welcome back."

Sasuke turned, oozing arrogance as he inclined his head toward Kakashi. Dark eyes roved over Sakura a second time, an almost smile curling his lips. Even so, Sakura read the tension in his shoulders. Despite the years that had passed, Sasuke remained something of a pariah in the village. There were some groups who would never forgive or forget the time that he had spent trying to destroy the Leaf, despite Naruto's efforts to change their opinions. Sakura knew that Kakashi had helped save Sasuke from execution or life in prison, but the Hokage's intervention had ended there.

"Sasuke!" Ino appeared from nowhere, throwing her arms around Sasuke in a hug that the man shrunk away from. "Welcome back."

Sakura flashed her friend a thankful smile at the interruption. "You're looking well," Ino continued, pulling all of Sasuke's attention to herself by keeping her hands on his upper arms. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Maybe later," Sasuke answered, voice sounding strained as he shrugged away from Ino's touch. When she released him, the man turned and smiled. "Hello, Sakura."

Sakura couldn't remember how to draw a breath. A thick strand of black fell across Sasuke's eye, adding an air of mystery to his already captivating appearance. Warmth suffused her face when he moved closer, near enough to reach out and brush her cheek if he'd wanted. "Hi," she answered, toying with a silver bracelet circling one wrist.

Sasuke slid between Sakura and Kakashi, angling his body to face hers. "How have you been?"

"I've been doing well." Sakura's answer barely scratched the surface of everything that had happened in her life since the last time she saw Sasuke. She couldn't seem to remember a single event that she wanted to talk about. Yamato approached the small group and squeezed in beside Kakashi while running an appraising eye over Sasuke. He didn't acknowledge the Uchiha's presence. Instead, he leaned closer to Kakashi and whispered something in his ear.

Pulling her attention away from the exchange, Sakura realized that she'd been asked something. It would be rude not to keep talking to Sasuke, so she smiled. "How about you? How have you been?"

"I stay busy following up on leads," Sasuke answered, revealing nothing about his time outside of the village. Maybe he thought that Sakura wouldn't accept his reasons for leaving her behind, or maybe, he didn't care if she did.

After all, how could Sakura expect Sasuke to understand the hours of work that she poured into the hospital, sometimes losing a patient despite her best efforts? Would he care that she pushed herself in training as hard as she's ever done in case they went back to war? Sakura imagined Sasuke teasing her efforts to create orphanages in Konoha. Would he understand Sakura's version of sacrifice when it didn't align with his?

Sakura's eyes drifted back to her group of friends. Naruto stood beside Ino with a silly grin on his face, undoubtedly because Sakura and Sasuke were talking together. He still believed the two of them could make it work somehow. Yamato and Kakashi watched them both without seeming to do so. Sakura couldn't help but wonder if they deemed Sasuke as a security risk, even after all this time. Her gaze settled on the tension in Kakashi's jaw, wondering why he seemed on edge.

Kakashi understood the passion that drove Sakura to fight for those causes. Or, if not, he humored her. Sakura and Kakashi had worked hand in hand to train additional medical shinobi, create orphanages, and work through various issues at the hospital. She'd assumed that Kakashi wanted to see the same outcome that she did. Would Sasuke want that? Did it matter? He wouldn't be in the village long enough for it to make any difference.

Despite the way that things between them had changed, Sasuke still reduced Sakura to a lovesick teenager. It wasn't that her feelings had stayed the same, but Sakura had spent half of her life chasing after Sasuke. She couldn't shake the memory of nipping at his heels, of being willing to throw everything away if he'd only acknowledge her. As Sasuke spoke, Sakura's mind responded on autopilot, answering with soft laughs and smiles.

After several minutes, Ino caught Sakura's attention and half nodded toward Kakashi. He and Yamato had fallen silent, allowing the conversation to flow around them without interruption. Sakura raised her shoulders in a helpless shrug, silently asking what she was supposed to do about the situation. Ino frowned, then leaned in to speak. "So, Sasuke, did you know that Naruto and Hinata are dating?"

The question cut off the conversation. Surprise flitted across Sasuke's face as he looked over at Naruto. The blond's cheeks flamed crimson and he sputtered over his words "Well, Ino is dating Sai," he managed, red from his hairline to his chin.

Ino grinned, tossing her long hair over one shoulder with an air of dismissal. "You say that like it's a bad thing. Sai happens to be far more interesting than you'd anticipate. Not to mention adventurous."

The suggestive nature of Ino's comment made Naruto choke on his breath. His eyes bulged and Sakura couldn't help but laugh; he was still so innocent. Naruto grabbed Sasuke's arm. "Come on, it's definitely time for a drink."

Without waiting for an answer, Naruto pulled the Uchiha toward the barkeeper and further away from Ino's insinuations. Laughing, the girl watched them go. Then, she turned back to Yamato. "I thought you were going to dance with me? And, you," Ino studied Kakashi, "should dance with Sakura so she isn't left alone over here."

For all the nudging that Kakashi had done when Ino asked Yamato to dance, the man seemed less than enthused about taking his own advice. "It isn't befitting of the Hokage to indulge in-"

"Oh no you don't, senpai," Yamato interrupted, already pulling Kakashi away from the wall. "I did my duty, and now it's time for you to do yours. Off you go."

Yamato's brown eyes shone with an inordinate amount of amusement, and Sakura didn't know whether to be thankful that he was pushing Kakashi toward the dance floor, or embarrassed at being some type of twisted payback. Either way, the indecision lasted only a moment. Ino grabbed Yamato's hand and guided him toward the dancers, leaving Sakura alone with Kakashi on the edge of the room.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck as he turned to face Sakura. Embarrassment raised the temperature of the room several degrees until it felt impossible to draw a breath. "You don't have to dance with me," she murmured, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt.

"Ino and Yamato would never let me hear the end of it if we didn't." Kakashi held out one hand, and Sakura slid hers into it. Her pulse pounded in her ears when he leaned closer. "Besides, we only have to dance long enough to get them off our backs."

Sakura didn't trust her voice to speak without breaking, so she nodded and followed Kakashi onto the dance floor. Music blared over the speakers, bass line making her heart pound in tempo. She drew a deep breath and looked into the eyes that had been hidden for so long. Even now, months later, Sakura hadn't gotten used to seeing more of Kakashi's face. She remembered the intensity of his gaze on the training field and the way that she'd wanted to pull him close and lose themselves in the storm.

Just five seconds of insane courage, Ino's voice whispered in the back of Sakura's mind. She could press her body against Kakashi's under the guise of dancing and admit that she wanted more than that. Butterflies the size of elephants trampled over Sakura's chest. If Kakashi rejected her, it would hurt, but she could mask the pain long enough to make it home. Then, she'd be free to deal with fallout. She had done the same thing over Sasuke nearly a year ago. But, if Sakura never took a chance and told Kakashi, she'd never know if there could have been anything between them.

Kakashi spoke, interrupting Sakura's momentum. "You look different tonight."

"Ino begged me to let her try something special for Naruto's party." Sakura chewed her lip, wondering if the words were technically a lie. She wanted to look more enticing as well, more like Ino and less like herself, in hopes that she'd capture Kakashi's attention.

The tempo of the music increased; Sakura allowed her body to follow. She felt the hem of her dress riding up her thigh and tugged it down with one hand. Kakashi followed the movement then snapped his eyes back to her face. He asked something, but the words were lost in the din of the crowd. When Sakura scrunched up her face in confusion, he leaned closer. "For Sasuke?"

For you, Sakura thought, holding the words tight between her lips. The accusation in Kakashi's tone surprised her. "I didn't know he'd be here."

Kakashi inclined his head at the words, expression unreadable. He rested his hands at Sakura's waist without a hint of familiarity or desire. Kakashi moved to the music, half a foot between their bodies. Sakura flashed back to the way his arms had wrapped around her like a glove on the training field. He moved on protective instinct, not to get close to me. The realization left a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Sakura surrendered to the rhythm of the music, turning to present her back to Kakashi's chest so she wouldn't have to meet his gaze. She closed her eyes, willing the ache in her heart to stop. This entire situation was so stupid. Ino was right about everything; Sakura needed to tell Kakashi how she felt so that she could pick up the pieces and move on. She had done it before, and she could do it again.

Fingers curled against Sakura's hips, the thin fabric of her dress hardly masking the feel of Kakashi's touch. Sakura wasn't sure if he pulled her back, or if she moved of her own accord, but she felt the warmth of his breath against her neck. She focused on the sensation, electricity rushing through her body. His damn flak vest separated Sakura from the heat of his chest, but she imagined that she could feel it anyway.

The song ended and the weight of Kakashi's hands fell away as if it had never been. Light pulsed around them as another song started. Sakura turned back to face Kakashi, drawing a shaky breath. "Do you think that dance met their requirements, or should we do another, just to be sure?"

Sakura's name left Kakashi's lips in a strangled sound. Whatever he'd been planning to say was lost when someone bumped hard into his back. He stumbled through the almost nonexistent space between them. Sakura heard an apology, but she couldn't match the voice to a face before her arms were full of Kakashi. She stumbled backward under his weight, tripped over her heels, and then they were falling. Vaguely, some panicked part of Sakura's mind wondered if she was about to give everyone in the room a free peep show.

Kakashi twisted in the air so that Sakura wouldn't be crushed beneath him. His left shoulder absorbed most of the impact half a second before she hit his chest. The air whooshed out of Kakashi's lungs in a soft hiss as their bodies pressed together. Exposure forgotten, Sakura felt his hands grip her, one near her shoulder and the other dangerously low on her back. They were close enough for their noses to brush, Kakashi's eyes wide. The charcoal tone wasn't as dark as Sakura had anticipated, but shot with silver through the iris. She noticed the outline of Kakashi's lips beneath his mask. Kami, it would be so simple to—

"Hokage-sama?" Genma's familiar voice cut across Sakura's thoughts. The man pushed through the crowd to reach Kakashi's side, undoubtedly on guard duty for the night. Sakura raised her head to glare at his poorly conceived timing.

Kakashi released Sakura like he'd been burned, hands coming to the floor instead as he pushed into a sitting position. She half fell into his lap from the sudden change of position. "I'm fine," he answered the unasked question. "I'm hardly old enough to get injured from falling down."

"Especially beneath a beautiful woman," Genma quipped, flashing his senbon-studded grin. Then, his leer slid toward the woman in question and his expression changed to something contemplative as he offered a hand. "Oh, hey, Sakura."

Sakura had no choice but to accept Genma's offered hand. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, she let the tokujo pull her away from Kakashi. Belatedly, she remembered to adjust the slinky dress lower on her thighs and higher over her chest. Hopefully everything had happened so quickly that she didn't have any reason to be embarrassed. A small crowd gathered around them. Kakashi pushed through them as the music started back up; Sakura followed him to the edge of the room.

"You aren't hurt are you, Hokage-sama," Ino gushed as she hurried to the pair's side. Her brow creased with worry when Kakashi tried to wave her off. Sakura barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her best friend. The ploy was obvious.

"I'm fine," Kakashi grumbled, looking distinctively embarrassed by the attention. "I'm not made of glass."

"Still," Ino pressed, reaching out like she might touch Kakashi's arm. "You hit your shoulder hard when you fell. I saw it."

Sakura could see the wheels turning in Ino's mind. No, please, Ino, don't do this. Sakura's silent plea fell on deaf ears. Kakashi raised his arm to prove that he could, but Ino didn't drop the subject. "You should let Sakura take a look at it, just to make sure. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

And, there it is, Sakura grumbled internally. Annoyance bled through Kakashi's embarrassment as he tried to wave the blonde's concerns away. Sakura interrupted the exchange before it could get out of hand. "Doesn't anyone care about me? I fell too."

"I could take a look at you," Genma offered with a cheeky grin from his position at Kakashi's shoulder. "In fact, it'd be my pleasure."

"No," Sakura and Kakashi answered in the same breath, dragging a knowing laugh from Genma. Kakashi looked almost as surprised as Sakura felt. Cheeks warming at the insinuation, she continued. "I don't need anyone to look at me, I am fine. But, shouldn't you be more worried about me?"

Genma chuckled in the back of his throat. "Because you're such a delicate little flower? I saw the damage you did to the training grounds the other night. I think I'd rather take my chances with Kakashi, to be honest."

"Probably for the best; she's stronger than you think." Sakura's stomach clenched at the unexpected praise from Sasuke. She hadn't noticed that he and Naruto had rejoined them in the chaos.

"Damn right she is," Ino answered, fighting to keep the attention on anything but Sasuke. Her eyes met Sakura's with silent pleading. While Sakura knew what Ino wanted, some things were easier said than done. Sasuke watched them with a smug satisfaction on his face that Sakura couldn't begin to understand as Ino continued. "What will Tsunade say if you leave Hokage-sama injured until tomorrow?"

Kakashi shook his head as Sakura groaned under her breath. She loved Ino, but sometimes the woman went a little overboard with her matchmaking. "Tsunade would say that it's nothing, and no more than I deserve if I can't keep my feet under me. But, if it'll put your mind at ease, I'll get it checked out."

"It would," Ino breathed out, her concern almost palpable. Sakura wondered why the woman didn't become an actress; she certainly had a knack for it. Ino pulled her forward. "There's no time like the present."

Kakashi cast a withering glance at Ino, then faced Sakura. For a moment, the rest of the room disappeared. Even the overwhelming presence of Sasuke shrank to insignificance. The sheepishness that Sakura had noticed earlier had evaporated, replaced by something darker in Kakashi's gaze. Though Sakura couldn't put her finger on it, the expression made chill bumps erupt on her arms. "Would you mind?"

It wasn't the first time that Sakura had healed Kakashi, not by a long shot. But, it was the first time that he'd asked. Sakura's heart did somersaults in her chest. "I don't mind," she breathed, forcing strength into her words. "But, not here. I need somewhere quieter, with better light."

Kakashi inclined his head as if the words made perfect sense. Naruto groaned, his voice turning whiny. "You're going to miss my party? This is the first time we've all been together in years."

"We won't be gone long," Kakashi assured the boy. "Just long enough to satisfy Sakura."

Ino choked on her laugh, eyes shining. Sakura's cheeks flamed crimson at the insinuation. Kakashi either didn't notice or didn't want to draw attention to it. He nodded toward the door. "Come on, let's get this over with, shall we?"

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

As she and Kakashi emerged from the pub, Sakura drew a breath of the chilly air. Naruto had been the only one to raise an objection to them leaving the party together, but Sakura felt the heat from a dozen gazes as they crossed the room. When they stepped into the street, Sakura's hand slipped out of Kakashi's, and neither made a move to retake it. He stared at the darkness, the stars above, and the benches by the door as they stood under the hazy light of the neon sign.

"I'm sorry that this took you away from the party," Kakashi began with a sigh. When his gaze turned to Sakura, it swept over her body in a way that suggested that he hadn't missed the tiniest facet of Ino's hard work. "You clearly wanted to be there."

"I can always go back later," Sakura answered, knowing that she wouldn't. She didn't want to face Sasuke or Ino after leaving with Kakashi, regardless of what happened next. Kakashi's shoulders seemed to tense at the response, but Sakura wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not. Undeniable nervousness settled in her gut.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "You don't really need to look at my shoulder. It's fine, but I needed an excuse to get out of there."

"I know," Sakura agreed. She would have realized if Kakashi was hurt, probably before he did. "But, I gave my word, so we should at least check it."

"Do you want to go to the hospital?" Kakashi moved down the street as he asked the question, forcing Sakura to follow on his heels. He didn't turn back when he continued. "Or, would my apartment be okay? It's closer."

Sakura's breath caught in her throat. She knew where Kakashi's apartment was, of course, but she'd never set foot inside of it. That he'd allow her into his world, even for a moment, stunned her. He continued walking, shoulders tight and hands stuffed into his pockets as he waited for an answer. "Your apartment is fine."

The silence gave Sakura unwanted time to think back over the night's events. She had seen appreciation in more than a few eyes when they noticed the changes that Ino had made, but she couldn't be sure that any of it had registered with Kakashi. He'd said she looked different, not better, not beautiful, just different. That word could mean a million things, or nothing at all. Ino was right though, if Sakura couldn't have Kakashi, she could always go home with someone else. Hell, even Sasuke had noticed and appreciated the extra effort in her appearance. There was only one problem, Sakura didn't want to go home with anyone else.

Sakura nearly walked into Kakashi's back when he stopped in front of her and nodded toward the steps leading up to his apartment. Though she knew it was entirely platonic, Sakura's heart pounded in her throat as she followed him higher. Kakashi unlocked the door, flicked the lights on, and pushed it wider. Sakura slid under his arm and into the room, taking in a million details at once.

Kakashi closed the door behind them and bent to remove his sandals. Sakura admired the smooth stretch of his body for a heartbeat longer than she should have. Tearing her eyes away, she rested one hand on the wall and bent down to unbuckle her heels. It felt good to be out of them, if it was only going to be for a few minutes.

"Does your shoulder hurt at all? They're notoriously fragile as far as joints go." When Kakashi didn't speak, Sakura opened her mouth to repeat the question, then had another idea. Five seconds of insane courage. She took two steps forward and reached for Kakashi's arm, the healing glow surrounding her hands.

When Sakura touched his shoulder, Kakashi startled and jerked away. 'I'm fine," he ground out. "You don't have to—"

"Your heart is pounding," Sakura responded in awe, letting her fingers fall away from his arm. The touch had been brief, but the spike in Kakashi's pulse was obvious.

Kakashi forced a harsh breath through his nose. "You're supposed to be checking my shoulder, not my heart."

Five seconds of insane courage. "Your shoulder," Sakura repeated, trying to think over the blood roaring in her ears. Just five seconds. She reached for the straps of Kakashi's flak vest.

#My writing #Dimi Writes #Naruto #KakaSaku #Kakashi Hatake #Sakura Haruno #Mutual Pining #Don't read this at work #Smut #and fluff #There's a lot of fluff

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theres-no-protocol-for-this · 2 years

Text

Personal

Below the cut is a very uncomfortable but mercifully short piece featuring Keith about to experience an awful thing. Content warnings for implied torture, upcoming torture, the removal of body parts, and terror. No happy ending here.

Please know your limits and tap out when you need to.

This happens after Breath.

Keith had been taught how to handle pain. Interrogation bordering on torture wasn’t a human invention, and every Blade prepared for the worst. Any mission could go wrong, any of them could be captured, and they had a lot of enemies.

So, Keith knew what to expect. Or at least, he knew the necessary techniques to survive whatever came next.

Armed guards had dragged him into this room and shackled him to a metal slab that might’ve been an operating table. He flexed his arms to give his wrists a little added slack, but against these restraints, he didn’t stand a chance.

The room’s meager lighting looked like it belonged in a club and not an interrogation chamber, but the tools arrayed on the smaller table to his right left little to the imagination. He was probably going to lose an arm or an eye to whatever came next — accepting that was part of the training.

With current Coalition technology, they could probably stitch him back together again, but that didn’t bring him any relief from the terror gnawing at his insides. The aches and pains from running the damn maze lingered, dull and distant, mostly forgotten.

Keith had other, more pressing concerns.

Somewhere behind his head, a door slid open with a quiet whoosh of sound and heavy footsteps echoed through the room as a tall, Galra male walked toward him. Keith didn’t recognize the man, but then why would he?

An angry scar curved up the newcomer’s neck and cheek, crossing his face to stop somewhere past his hairline. A second scar sat just below his left eye. Beyond that, the Galran was built like a wall, thick and solid. He wore ceremonial clothes that probably meant something, but Keith didn’t know enough of his own heritage to make sense of them.

“Welcome to my lair, half-breed,” the newcomer said with a heavy accent Keith didn't recognize. “If it were up to me, you and other hybrids like yourself would be strangled at birth, before they could bring dishonor upon my species. But, alas, that is not to be.”

Keith stared at him. He couldn’t speak past the muzzle, and he didn’t have much to say anyway. Antagonizing the interrogator without a solid plan was pointless.

“I’m going to carve you up. Not enough to kill you, but enough to make a point. It will take an hour. It’s going to feel like the rest of your life. And then… then we will see if the Admiral of the Atlas will be more eager to negotiate.”

The Galran picked up a small knife with a curved blade and a twisted handle. “But first, I am going to remove your ring finger. A strange human tradition that.” The man chuckled. “I'm told this means something to your kind." The interrogator chuckled. "Perhaps seeing it — and the attached ring — will mean something to your husband.”

Resolve warred with horror as the words penetrated. Shiro was here — this was worse than Keith had anticipated. Blind panic surged forward, and he struggled uselessly against the restraints. The other man's laugher a background soundtrack to his pain.

#keith #shiro #voltron #sheith #fanfiction #awful things #cw: terror #cw: torture #whump #please accept this hug in apology for what's implied

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emf005 · 3 years

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More Expresso Means Less Depresso

Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

Warnings:Whole bunch of cussing because, I mean, why not? And Peter Parker

being the Fluffiest Puppy ever.

Being Tony Stark's daughter came with a lot of pluses. The brains, the looks, the sarcastic comments, not knowing who your mother is until the results came back from the lab. But more than that, you had the ability to ask for permission and then do whatever the fuck you wanted to do anyhow. Like two years ago when you made yourself the Iron Warrior suit. Ha ha ha… Lord was he PISSED at you. Also, your horrible habits of not taking care of yourself when you wanted something. Like tonight.

You refilled your mug for what seemed like the thousandth time since Monday (it was Friday) and took a long sip. By long, I mean looooooong sip of the scolding black liquid. It felt good. The caffeine. Thank Christ for Coffee and caffeine. You would have been long dead if it weren’t a thing.

You had been working on school work and personal projects all this week, never getting a chance to sleep. Finals were coming up, a huge mission was too and you needed to work out the kinks in your suit. It had gotten damaged during the last one and while you were fixing it you had the great idea to update it. Ha ha ha ha. Not a great idea.

“Hey, kiddo,” Steve Rogers and his fucking huge arms the size of your head said. Wait. Did his muscles talk? Was that what happened?” When was the last time you slept?” Nope, not the muscles, just the echo in your head. You took another sip of the scolding liquid before pouring yourself another mug. You hummed in though.

“I don’t know. A while?” You shrugged and put the coffee the what's it mcbob (To tired, words no come to brain) back in the maker to start another batch of it. Who knew how long you’d be here. You definitely needed to make sure you had enough to last you.

“Maybe you should get some rest. You don’t look so good,” you could tell he was worried. But it didn't take much to make the flag covered man worried.

“No can do, Mr. America. I have too much on my plate.” He didn’t roll his eyes like he normally did at your nickname.

“Kid, I really-”

“Well nice way wasn’t working,” you set your mug down and leaned towards him with murder written all over your face. You hadn;t slept in a wee, was it really a smart idea to tell you what to do right now? “Listen here, Rogers, if you attempt to drag me away from this machine or my work I will personally rip your head off and shove it so far up your perfect ass that it’ll pop up right back on top without even touching my suit. Got that?” He swallowed and backed up a bit at the murderous look you were giving him that was thirty times more dangerous than your father’s. “Good.” You poked his chest, grabbed your mug and turned around on your heels, back to your work.

You skipped your coffee that was now mixed with Red bull when your father walked in.

“Dad! Dad dad dad dad dad!” He walked over to you.

“What’s up?” He asked, not saying anything about the state you were in. He knew he should've but, as you had pointed out one time, that would consider him a hypocrite.

“Ok ok ok ok ok ok. So, there's this thing that goes burr in my suit and it won’t go bop bop bop any more! And then for my essay, how many plays did Shakespeare actually perform himself? Also for chemistry-” He put a hand over your mouth and held up a red bull can. You thought you hid those better.

“First off, I can’t understand you, you're talking so fast. Second off, I thought we agreed that if it came to mixing Red bull and Coffee it was time to stop.”

“I know I know I know I know. But we have that mission coming up. And finals are right around the corner. And I have this essay due. And this chemistry is for enhancing Peter’s webs so that they are forty percent stronger and sticker. Plus, they’ll dissolve in water, too!” He sighed and set the can down.

“No getting you to stop, huh?”

“No. Now out, I’ll figure it out. I wasted too much time listening to your pointless lecture.” He was about to reprimand you, but remembered you were his daughter and that would only make you sass back more. He ruffled your hair and left to leave you to your work.

You had completely lost it by Sunday evening. You were running around the lab incircles muttering things when Peter came in, all happy and chipper to see his crush/best friend. But he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the state of disarray everything was in. You heard the doors shut and looked up at him with wide red crazy eyes.

“Peter! Hi! What's up?” You went back to reading whatever it was while running to your computer to type in a few commands for your suit upgrade, forgetting he was here already.

He noticed the forty empty cans of Red bull on the table and all the large cups of old expressos. He saw you headed to the coffee machine and intercepted your path, he wouldn’t be able to stop you if you had more espresso or red bull, he wasn’t even sure if he would be able to stop you now.

“Hey, Y/N. I was hoping we could watch a movie!” You looked up from your notes, completely disoriented. He had seen you like this too many times to count. You got worse than Tony did. And while Pepper was the only who could stop him, he was the only one who could stop you... most of the time

“Movie? Is it about the chemical reactions of toothpaste and hggyuagd-” whatever you tried to say mashed together so much that no one, not even you, could make it out.

“Uh. No. How about Star Wars?” You shook your head and buried it back in your notebook.

“Sorry, Peter. Can’t. I’m too busy here. Can I get to the coffee machine? More espresso means less depresso” You felt the energy leaving you. He could see it too and was ready to catch you when you fell.

“Uh, no.”

“Why?”

“Because-”

“Of you are trying to stop me from working, Peter, I swear I-”

“I wanted to ask you out.” He blurted out.

You two went silent, staring at each other. The energy was practically out of you and your brain was short circuiting from hormones and lack of sleep and proper nutrition. Had you just heard him correctly? Peter Parker. The Spider Man. Him. This adorable puppy with large brown eyes in front of you. Wanted to ask you, the definition of a human disaster, out?

You opened your mouth to say something but collapsed into his arms before you could get a word out. He caught you and tossed you over his shoulder.

“That was smooth, Peter,” he muttered to himself. He carried you out of the lab and up the stairs, waving at the others who looked relieved to see you in his arms, to your room. He could have easily taken the stairs, but he just wanted to hold you for a bit longer. Call it his crush on you that was growing bigger by the second, but he liked knowing that some part of you depended on him.

He set you down in your bed and sighed gratefully that you didn't wake up. He turned to leave but you grabbed his arm, your eyes cracked open a bit.

“Hey, go back to sleep. Ok? You can kill me when you're properly rested,” he whispered with a smile as he squatted down to your eye level on the bed.

“Peter,”

“Yeah?”

“Can you stay? Please?” Your eyes were drifting closed again and he could have easily left without you knowing. But…

He looked at your face which fell into a comfortable sleep again, completely relaxed and your lips parted a bit. Some of your Y/H/C falling into your face. He smiled and pushed it behind your ear, letting his hand linger near your cheek.

“Sure, dork. I’ll stay.” You smiled in your sleep and his heart skipped a beat at the up turn of your pink lips. He slipped off his shoes and slipped into the other side of your bed.

It wasn’t unnatural to find you two like this. Ever since you two had started going to the same high school, per your demand when you father asked about schooling, you two had been best friends. Joined at the hip it seemed.

You shifted in your sleep so your head was on his chest and he held your shoulders. He watched you sleep for a few seconds before sleep over took him too.

He woke up to the feeling of someone watching him. His eyes fluttered open and he looked down to see a pair of Y/E/C looking back at him. He smiled and stretched.

“Hi.” He mumbled.

“Hi,” you mumbled back, your eyes not leaving his face. He looked back down at you.

“What?”

“Did you mean it?” His heart stopped beating. Did you remember what he told you before you passed out? “Did you really wanna ask me out?” He stared at you for a moment. You still looked half asleep. Most likely you woke up from the thought of him asking you out making its way into your sub conscience.

Ok, just lie. It’ll be fine. Just say you did-

“Yes. I did.”

You stupid little-

“Y/N, I really really like you. If I’m being honest,” he searched your eyes. “I have for a while now. I- uh- well you see I-mmph?” your put your lips on his before he could say another word. It wasn’t quick or long It was the perfect amount of time. You pulled away with a smile on your lips as you watched his face become more red.

“I like you too, Dork. Next time don’t wait so damn long to tell me.” He smiled brightly.

“So you’ll go on a date with me?” You returned around so you were on your knees. Laughing, you shook your head.

“Yes, Spider Dork. I’ll go on a date with you!” He smiled and kissed you, you responded immediately. Giddy that the Spider man had finally asked you on a date after what seemed like years of having a crush on you. Yes, you knew he liked you. The boy was so obvious and adorable it was hard not to tell. You just wanted him to be the one to make the first move.

End

#spiderman #peterparker #marvel #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x stark!reader #stark reader #writing #reader insert #the avengers #fluff #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x you #peterparker x reader #peter parker x y/n

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tossawary · 3 years

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Chapter 24: “Seeing is Believing” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” random favorite lines and commentary. Not a full list or full commentary, but longer commentary than usual to talk about quest construction.

AN: This was... a weird chapter to write. When I started outlining, I had... the conversation with Shen Qingqiu planned... the conversation with Shen Yuan planned... the fact that SQH, SY, LQG, and LFL was the quest party... and the fact that they get the Eye at the end of it. That was everything.

The entire rest of this chapter came together FRIDAY LAST WEEK.

Huan Hua Palace wasn’t going to be there. The Weeper didn’t exist. The Eye or its previous owner wasn’t at all connected to the Garden Master. The Shadow Cave Wolf Spiders didn’t exist. The murder plant didn’t exist. The mysterious monster showing up at the end wasn’t originally planned either.

I mean, I had a lot of pre-existing plot threads to tie in and weave with, but ohhh boy! Picture someone lying facedown on a floor like, “I forgot to plan the contents of the super important quest...”

I was originally going to have the Eye quest a lot simpler, but given the weight “Death of the Author” had when I finally reached this part of the story, that wasn’t really going to do! It had to be bigger than that! It needed oomph! This also felt like a good opportunity to really establish the new SQH-SY dynamic. To explore SY fumbling to find a place in this world without strict character role, especially in relation to settled and well-supported SQH.

“One attempts to remain dignified,” Shen Qingqiu agrees. “As there is little point in kicking and screaming about how such ignobility isn’t fair.”

“Ha! Is there ever?”

“Not in my experience.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely not cute when I do it,” Shang Qinghua jokes.

Shen Qingqiu’s lips actually twitch at that.

Success?!

AN: I wasn’t going into this fic with the intention of writing any Shang Qinghua and Original Shen Qingqiu almost friendship! But it started developing and it seemed a shame not to explore Shang Qinghua developing a real relationship with Shen Qingqiu (though not a particularly close one) when the man is suppose to be the scum villain (and the readers know that the man might get replaced by Shen Yuan).

I can see myself writing more Shang Qinghua and Original Shen Qingqiu content in the future. Someone dropped a particularly nice prompt for them in my inbox that I’m looking forward to exploring at some point.

(I mean, not to say that Shang Qinghua has a type, but Shang Qinghua has a type and it’s handsome, deadly, intimidating, frosty men with a villainous character design and trust/abandonment and communication issues. I could make it work.)

“Ah, well, two ‘ideal’ situations come to mind: severing the personal relationship for good… or, ah, talking about how to do better and trying that. You don’t have to forget or even forgive if you don’t want to! But, ah… there’s got to be a difference between totally swallowing your anger and cutting ties forever, right?” Shang Qinghua says awkwardly. “If there’s… ever going to be anything good afterwards…”

Shen Qingqiu stares at him for a sweat-inducing length of time.

“Ah, fuck,” Shang Qinghua thinks.

“Sorry,” he says. “Ahhh, I’m just… thinking about something someone told me… in… in regards to some of my own problems. Never mind! Never mind!”

AN: Luo Jiahui really is out here making Moshang and Qijiu get their fucking act together just by setting a better example.

“Shizun, my apologies for the interruption, but I came to ask Shizun if he would be willing to join our music lesson today? The disciples have missed his playing and are eager to present their improvements.”

“...Very well, unless anyone here would disagree…?” Shen Qingqiu looks directly at the Qian Cao Peak cultivator, as though daring her to object and die.

“It’s an excellent suggestion!” the Qian Cao Peak cultivator says quickly.

The young woman smiles. “And perhaps Shizun could sit in on the calligraphy lesson afterwards? In order to offer his opinion on my progress as a teacher?”

“Fishing for compliments is unbecoming,” Shen Qingqiu says dryly.

“Wait, what?” Shang Qinghua thinks.

AN: So, this has all been happening in the background, but Shen Qingqiu accepted this House of Rejuvenation woman onto his Peak about... 6-ish years ago now? This is kind of meant to parallel Shang Qinghua’s once-secret relationship with Luo Jiahui.

Shang Qinghua was out here trying to be a better person and Shen Qingqiu noticed; now Shen Qingqiu has his own positive (platonic) relationship with a nameless background character who was meant to die for plot reasons. What a thing, huh? If the story was saved because Shang Qinghua started a domino effect of saving random people who went on to change things?

After all, as Shang Qinghua said to the kid, besides Peerless Cucumber’s apparent talent for cultivation, he knows that his fellow transmigrator has three very important skills that will serve him well on An Ding Peak! 1) An encyclopedia knowledge for even seemingly pointless bullshit (which is kind of flattering, honestly). 2) The willingness to fight total strangers over seemingly pointless bullshit. And 3) a sharp enough tongue to win.

Peerless Cucumber didn’t find these points as funny as Shang Qinghua did.

AN: Shen Yuan was always going to end up on An Ding Peak. I thought about sending him to Qing Jing or Qian Cao or Qiong Ding... or any other Peak... but that would take him too far away from Shang Qinghua to really explore their relationship and to move him around conveniently in the story. And SY sticking to An Ding seemed to best illustrate the fact that SY is lost and doesn’t know what to do except cling to SQH.

“It’s not much, sure, but it’s yours,” Shang Qinghua says finally. “You’ll be joining the talisman classes soon, so don’t try anything from a book and then need to request some home repairs.”

Peerless Cucumber nods and puts his stack of manuals down on the table.

“How’s your tutorial mission going?”

“Fine,” the kid says shortly. “Have you found anything for the other one yet?”

“Ah, not yet.”

AN: “Are you winning, son?” meme energy here.

Ah, now Shang Qinghua recognizes his fellow transmigrator’s expression! That’s the same stunned expression one of his Huan Hua not-disciples, Yu Chaonan, made upon meeting the Bai Zhan Peak War God for the first time. Shang Qinghua assumes that Peerless Cucumber was expecting a man who looked more like a musclebound giant and less like a pop idol (if one with amazingly muscular arms), which is a super common and never-not-funny misconception people have about Liu Qingge.

“Brother of one of the most beautiful women in this world, bro,” Shang Qinghua reminds his fellow transmigrator, amused. Aha! Now Peerless Cucumber’s vehement disinterest in the harem stuff is making even more sense than before!

Shang Qinghua’s assumption gets 100% confirmed when it comes time for Peerless Cucumber to fly with Liu Qingge for the next leg of the journey. The other transmigrator is so embarrassed and awkward about it that Shang Qinghua’s super direct brother-in-law asks if the young man is alright.

AN: This was so fun to write. Shang Qinghua really can use the Liu siblings to gauge people’s sexual/romantic orientation.

The map (or rather, the copy Shang Qinghua made of the delicate original map) takes them to a green and grey landscape of leafy trees crawling over a wide network of tall cliffs and deep gorges. Gurgling rivers cut through twisting rock formations. Shang Qinghua can’t see any of these rivers on the map. Or these deathly drop ravines. From the outside, the whole thing looks like a natural maze (holy shit, there could be so many monsters and death-traps in there!), and Shang Qinghua would know those golden robes flying low over the hanging trees anywhere.

“Huan Hua,” Liu Qingge mutters.

“Do you think they’re looking for what we’re looking for?” Luo Fanli asks.

“That’s usually how it goes,” Peerless Cucumber says, before Shang Qinghua can.

AN: I came up with the skeleton idea first. Then I was like... “I should give it three eyes.” And then I was like... “But who IS this dead author? A god? A spirit? What grander implications am I spinning here?”

And THEN I remembered that I had some ambiguous powerful being force the Garden Master into exile due to a flood. This was because, in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the immortal man Gilgamesh meets in the abyss is the survivor of a great flood. So I was like, “Reduce! Re-use! Recycle! There’s my skeleton!”

So I wanted to relate the skeleton to water because of the flood angle. Water as a symbol of cleansing/reincarnation is a big thing throughout many cultures. I can’t remember exactly how the crying aspect came up, but I knew there was going to be water in the temple now, so at some point my brain like was, “Bro, this skeleton should totally be crying because mythology vibes.”

So I built the surrounding land off the idea that there was water flowing from or around this temple. At this point, I had decided that Huan Hua Palace should also be looking for this artifact, so I had to come up with a way to hide the temple, yet have a way for SQH’s party to track it down.

The damage to the doors is worse: someone once upon a time collapsed a part of the cliff face around the entrance, essentially leaving only the top fourth of the utterly smashed stone doors visible. It’s a wall now and has been for ages. It looks like it would take days to dig through the rubble. Someone has even super helpfully carved, “These doors will never open again,” just above the wreck.

“Guess we’ll have to go in as intruders rather than guests!” Luo Fanli says.

“What would be welcoming us inside a lost temple exactly?” Shang Qinghua asks vaguely, inwardly cursing the fact that explosive mining techniques will definitely attract the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators’ attention and also probably collapse the whole cliff on them.

“We only have to clear a passage for us, not the whole door,” Peerless Cucumber says optimistically. “Is there a special technique for this kind of thing?”

“Aha, not really.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t we just keep following the water?” Luo Fanli says.

“...How so?” Shang Qinghua asks.

“Some of those waterfalls could be passages inside,” Liu Qingge explains, because he and the little sister-in-law apparently share the same brain. He’s already eyeing the waterfall wearing down the giant statue on the left.

AN: Temples in quests need to have traps and obstacles and monsters! Well, not ALL of the did, but this one did. I based the obstacles they faced as much as I could around the whole “Death of the Author” theme, while using this whole quest to explore Shen Yuan, Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua, Shang Qinghua and Liu Qingge and Luo Fanli, and so on.

The idea here with the door is that the “author” is not going to let them inside the temple to take the interpretation of the narrative (the Eye) for themselves. The story is over (the temple is closed for business)! The author is dead! If they want to get inside, they have to break inside or slip inside as intruders.

This also creates a convenient obstacle to hold up the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators so that our party can be nearly caught later! And shows off Shang Qinghua, Liu Qingge, and Luo Fanli’s twisty lines of thinking.

Luo Fanli is holding the light and Shang Qinghua passes the other transmigrator to her, while accepting Liu Qingge’s hand for help getting out of the water.

“Ahhh, that was fun,” Shang Qinghua mutters.

Then he notices that Liu Qingge has the Cheng Luan sword out and ready. Shang Qinghua looks through the surrounding darkness, but all he can see are columns and water. For a moment, he thinks he sees something, a prowling shadow at the other end of the cavernous room, but he wipes the water out of his eyes and it’s gone.

AN: The water in Shang Qinghua’s eyes briefly lets him see a flash of the invisible monsters who show up later! It helps up the tension.

Another low growl rips through the darkness and Peerless Cucumber shuffles a little closer to Shang Qinghua. Because that sounded really fucking close and yet Shang Qinghua still can’t see the thing that’s making that sound.

He doesn’t see Liu Qingge lunge at him either. He only feels his brother-in-law shove him into Peerless Cucumber, knocking them into the water, out of the way of something that howls when Liu Qingge slashes at it with his sword. Shang Qinghua rolls off Peerless Cucumber and looks up just in time to see dark blood splatter across the watery floor. Liu Qingge pursues the attacker with a second slash, but only seems to meet thin air this time.

“It’s invisible!” Luo Fanli cries. “Fuck!”

“Behind you!” Liu Qingge snaps, and spins to slash at the thin air beside him. Dark droplets of blood hit the water again and something hisses at him.

Luo Fanli whirls and slashes, searching for an opponent.

“They’re reflected in the water!” Liu Qingge yells at her, standing guard over Shang Qinghua as he gets to his feet again. “Listen for their footsteps and vocalizations! Feel the demonic energy and air displacement!”

AN: I got this from a list of Dungeons and Dragons puzzles. The idea is that there’s some puzzle that must be solved, but the truth of the room can only be seen in the reflection of the nearby water (or mirror or whatever).

Which felt fitting for a “Death of the Author” quest! Whatever an author’s intentions, the story is what they actually wrote, so the audience interprets a text without the context of the author’s insight. The truth (of the story) is in the reflection (audience interpretation)! It felt like a fun idea.

It also allows Shen Yuan to actually contribute to the quest via monster lore and bring up his impaired vision problem. And to confront Shen Yuan with the reality of this world. And to show off Luo Fanli’s fighting skills. And to show off LIU QINGGE’S legendary fighting skills, instincts as a warrior who fights many dangerous beasts, and the fact that he’s clever and observant!

Liu Qingge is good at what he does! And this is what he does!

Someone has… angrily… or desperately… carved a lopsided message into the wall.

“‘If I go blind, so does the world,’” Peerless Cucumber reads.

“...That’s probably not good,” Shang Qinghua says.

“Nooo…” Fanli agrees.

The messages continue as they climb, carved into the walls, the ceilings, the floors. Most of it is illegible. Some of it is just nonsense. Some of it looks like the same kind of historical records carved into the broken tablets. Some of it looks like someone attacked the walls after reading what was written there. There are deep gouges in the walls and cracked marks that would match a giant’s hands.

“‘The water cleans the lies,’” Peerless Cucumber reads. “‘I am the only one who can see.’ ‘Lies everywhere, lies everywhere, lies everywhere.’ ‘The water cleans the evil.’ ‘I do not have enough tears.’ ‘Everything is nothing now. Everything in vain.’”

“You really don’t need to read them!” Shang Qinghua tells the kid. “It’s fine. It's totally fine.”

AN: This is mostly here to up the tension, but it’s also here to try and give insight into this being and relate them more to the “Death of the Author” and the “Seeing is Believing” themes.

I also saw the phrase “If I go blind, so does the world” while I was browsing a list of riddles for D&D campaigns and I was like, “THAT’S SICK, I’M USING THAT.” Really brings the “an eye for an eye” and vengeance vibes. (The riddle was longer than that one phrase, but the answer was “the sun”.)

The top of the temple reveals one massive room that looks like someone was alternatively scratching their insanity into the walls and tearing chunks out of the interior design with their bare hands. Overtop of the rubble is that eerie overgrowth. There’s a fine layer of water over the floor. At the center of it all is an incredibly enormous desk, cracked in half, with a robed skeleton sitting behind it, slumped over the top. It’s a little too large to be an ordinary human.

Plus, its skull is a little too long, probably to accommodate the third eye socket in the forehead. There’s something gleaming softly yellow in the third eye socket.

“Is… there water dripping from its eyes?” Luo Fanli whispers.

“It looks like it…” Peerless Cucumber whispers back. “Like it's crying…?”

“Still…? Is it dead or not?”

“Holy shit,” Shang Qinghua thinks, slightly nauseated. “System, bro, the worst bro I’ve ever known, tell me that we have not been swimming in a three-eyed skeleton’s magical undead tears or something this whole time.”

The shitty, no-good System stays unsurprisingly silent.

AN: Okay, so the idea here is that this being was someone who recorded history and shared their knowledge freely. This being had the ability to discern the truth of a person - they were extremely perceptive. (The Weeper is either female or doesn’t have a gender, by the way.)

The Weeper met the Garden Master at some point. The Garden Master was an asshole, a liar, arrogant, etc.. The Weeper and the Garden Master clashed badly, until the Weeper sent the cleansing flood that nearly destroyed the sect and the Garden Master essentially had to flee to a personal abyss.

The Garden Master sent the plant as a final “fuck you” to the Weeper. The plant caused the Weeper to slowly go mad. The smashed tablets and destroyed temple are the Weeper’s work. The Weeper (not in a great state of mind) had the temple closed themselves once they realized they and their work had been corrupted. This was a “you destroy my (embellished) reputation, I destroy yours (and your entire life)” plot by the Garden Master.

The idea behind the tears is the whole “water is cleansing” thing. The Weeper tried to clean away the madness using their magical water-related abilities... and it actually worked for a long time. But eventually the madness began to overpower the effects of the magical water. The Weeper’s tears are from frustration and helplessness at losing control.

The water inside the temple combats the plant’s physical effects. Also stabbing the root killed the plant and essentially broke its mental/spiritual powers.

Unfortunately, to get the fuck out of here, they have to go back through the temple. But hey! That’s still a lot better than an extended hike through an underground, haunted desert in darkness! The battle with the now-dead plant caused its growth to writhe around the temple. The vines need to be hacked through sometimes as they travel down through the rooms of broken shelves and shattered tablets.

“So much history lost…” Peerless Cucumber murmurs.

“He still thinks of himself as a reader - an observer, a visitor, separate from the flow of fate.”

AN: This is... absolutely based on the Heart from the Dishonored franchise. But this sort of item didn’t originate with Dishonored and I need it! It’s a surprise/mystery tool that will help us later!

The Eye isn’t exactly a mind-reading object. I mean, it kind of is, but it works in a very specific way that I’m looking forward to getting into.

From there, their path back out of the natural maze is even more careful and stressful than before, now that the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators are actively looking for them rather than the temple. It’s slow-going and stressful and silent, except for when the Weeper’s Eye presses too close against his chest.

“He is afraid that if he starts screaming, he will never stop,” it tells him, when he’s looking at a pale-faced Peerless Cucumber, as they fly over a particularly deathly-looking drop.

“Oh, me too, bro!” Shang Qinghua thinks. “Seriously! Tell me something I don’t know!”

AN: Having Shang Qinghua be totally unimpressed by an object like this was very funny to me. He’s the author! He’s a transmigrator! He knows these people well! He already has insight into their situations.

Shang Qinghua groans, but supposes that Peerless Cucumber would have at least been disguising Liu Qingge from the back. “You tell them that you were tracking thieves who stole something from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect,” he says quickly. “Rule of embarrassment! Admitting something that makes us look bad to a rival makes it sound true. Don’t tell them what was stolen and act really offended if they try to poke into Cang Qiong business. I’ll come back as soon as I get these two out!”

Liu Qingge nods and launches forward into the fight.

“We’re just leaving him?” Peerless Cucumber says, as they do exactly that.

“I’ll get changed and come back ‘looking for him for urgent sect business’ as soon as I’ve dropped you two off in the last town,” Shang Qinghua says. “I’m really good at acting stressed and confused, and at desperately needing an unstoppable wandering Liu Qingge back at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect immediately. Now let’s go! Let’s go! Mission isn’t over yet!”

AN: Shang Qinghua is, at heart, a liar. I love him.

#tossawary updates #tossawary svsss #pride is not the word #tossawary commentary

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agentnico · 3 years

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Zack Snyder’s Justice League (2021) Review

It all started with Sonic’s teeth. Ever since fans successfully bullied a studio into reanimating their titular hedgehog character after the abomination shown in the first trailer, fans realised that rallying together (on Twitter) can make a difference. So you’d think it would mean we could all come together to restore world peace and get rid of racism, injustice, poverty, war and negativity of all kind? Nope, nope it does not. But at least we get a better version of a bad DC movie that came out in 2017. I mean, baby steps I guess.

Plot: Fuelled by his restored faith in humanity and inspired by Superman's selfless act, Bruce Wayne enlists newfound ally Diana Prince to face an even greater threat. Together, Batman and Wonder Woman work quickly to recruit a team to stand against this newly awakened enemy. Despite the formation of an unprecedented league of heroes -- Batman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Cyborg and the Flash -- it may be too late to save the planet from an assault of catastrophic proportions.

I recall my younger simpler self in 2017 at the early age of 20 soon to be 21, sitting down and watching the new Justice League film with zero to no expectations, as by that point the DC Extended Universe was a trainwreck and was a franchise that was literally falling apart before out unblinking red hay fever filled eyes. However, after watching Justice League I was baffled at the fact that I still managed to be disappointed after having zero expectations! With zero expectations this film took me into the minuses, and we all know I’m not great at mathematics so boy are we in the danger zone when we hit the minuses! Looking back at my review of the film back then, I used extreme yet fitting comments like “generic”, “predictable” “messy” and plain “dogsh*t”. Which is what it was. 2017′s Justice League is exactly how I’d imagine a dog’s poop would look if it was turned into an abstract film! It was truly abysmal. After that I thought I’d never have to talk about this film again. How wrong I was. But, in a rare turn of tables, I am glad that I was wrong...

A little history lesson first. Alright, settle down kids, settle down.... Rob, put the paper plane down, do not throw it, I said DON’T THROW IT! NO! Stop! Stupid child!! Headteacher’s office right now! Also, say hi to your mother for me, okay? I’m having brunch with her on Saturday and you better not be there as you should be doing your homework watching the 4 hour cut of Justice League and questioning your life choices!! Anyway, now let’s have ourselves a history lesson. The topic is - What In The Flying Fudge Happened Behind-The-Scenes Of Justice League For DUMMIES: Condensed Edition. A really condensed version as honestly none of us have the attention span to read loads and I’m probably losing the vast majority of you due to this overlong rambling session. So anyway, to the last couple of readers left, here we go! Following the success of Man of Steel, Warner Bros. gave Zack Snyder the reigns to oversee and create a DC cinematic universe to rival the success of Marvel. And so came Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice, which turned out to be a bit of a hodgepodge, receiving mixed to negative reviews and though was a box office success, earned diminishing results to what Warner Bros. originally anticipated. However, by the time Batman V Superman released, Zack Snyder was already hard at work on the big superhero team up film Justice League (which was meant to set up many characters and future films for the DCEU) with a lot of filming already underway, so Warner Bros. couldn’t particularly pump the breaks on it by that point, even though they evidently lost trust in the Snyder formula. To be honest, at that point I too lost trust in Snyder’s vision and the DCEU as a whole, but my opinion doesn’t class for a single dime, whilst the opinions of Warner Bros. executives make millions, so there aren’t any hard feelings on my behalf for them not enquiring on my thoughts. Anyway, midway through production Zack Snyder was hit with a family tragedy with his daughter committing suicide, so Snyder naturally had to depart the project to be with his family during this grieving time. Warner Bros. had the option to pause production and await for Snyder’s return, or progress at their own accord. Naturally they decided to do their own thing cause they are a business and want that dollar dollar bill baby!! So they hired Joss Whedon who was riding fresh off the success of two Avengers movies and obviously had experience in cinematic universes and such, to rework the Justice League movie by condensing it into a 2 hour film (from the over 4 hour material that Snyder shot) and reshoot scenes to fit the smaller runtime. So you cannot particularly blame Whedon for taking out so many great scenes as he had a contract to fulfil with Warner Bros, but then you look at the many forced jokes and unnecessary reshot scenes and you realise how self-indulgent Joss Whedon was during filming, as he basically was spitting on everything Snyder did and was trying to do his own thing. Low and behold, the mess that is the 2017 movie is created, where its the visions and creative minds of two director with evidently different styles clashing and not really mixing well at all, and as such we have a messy movie that doesn’t really make sense and is a bit of a middle finger to DC fans and honestly everyone and all. Also, there was that little aspect of Henry Cavill’s deformed upper lip due to the fact that during reshoots he had a moustache that he’d grown and was contractually obligated to have for his Mission Impossible role, so the visual effects team had to digitally remove it in post production and the result is, well, see for yourself...

Yes, they made the dashing handsome my-sexuality-questioning Henry Cavill look stupid, and that is UNFORGIVABLE. Funny, yes, very funny but unforgivable!! So for this and many other reasons the 2017 film turned out horribly. Then after that many months later, Zack Snyder and cast and crew members began teasing of this mythical version of the movie that was befit of Snyder’s original vision. You see, apparently before he left the project, Snyder actually filmed everything he wanted and it was only awaiting to be reworked with visual effects and edited properly, but then Whedon came in with his scissors and cut everything mercilessly with a cheeky grin and his ginger beard. Speaking of his ginger beard, is Joss Whedon Irish? Or has Irish roots? Honestly, I would Google it, but wait, I don’t think I really care. So anyway, Snyder still had all of his filmed scenes saved on his ridiculously oversized hard drive just waiting to be looked at again. This is where the fandom did its magic by creating a Twitter hashtag #ReleaseTheSnyderCut and began spam posting for Warner Bros. to let Zack Snyder release what he originally intended to. Honestly, who would have thunk it, but this actually worked!! Warner Bros. allowed this, and not only that, but gave Snyder an additional $70 million to finish up the visual effects as well as to film a couple of additional sequences and gave it the prestigious honour to debut it on HBO Max, so as to boost the subscriber rating on Warner Bros. new streaming service. And here we are.

Honestly, I thought seeing this Director’s Cut of sorts wouldn’t bring much to the table as I didn’t believe that a film that was so broken had originally been in any way good. After finishing this 4 hour Snyder vision I must admit though that I was pleasantly surprised. Completely baffled by the studio and Joss Whedon, but really happy for Zack Snyder. The guy was fighting for it and finally was able to accomplish and bring out his true original vision, and though Zack Snyder’s Justice League has its flaws, its so much better than what we got in 2017, and in fact is a soaring science fiction sci-fi epic that literally feels epic!! It takes time establishing the characters and every single plot point as well as building out this rich mythology of this world of the DC Extended Universe, and so as you move into the second half of the film, there’s a feeling of pay off. You actually care about the characters and understand the plot points and it doesn’t feel rushed. Its truly astounding that there are producers out there who thought it was a good idea to get rid of all of that and instead bring out whatever the heck Joss Whedon did with the 2017 version. Look, I quite enjoy Joss Whedon’s work, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel to Cabin in the Woods and his work on Marvel, the guy obviously has a talent, but also he obviously does not belong to the dark and brooding style of DC. Zack Snyder on the other hand, though makes his mistakes, truly embraces the epic feel of the DC material. And it seems once you give Snyder enough time and space, he can actually bring out something like this:

The main characters are all given so much more to do, or at least those that got side-lined in the 2017 version are given more to do here. One of my complaints with the original was how pointless the League turns out to be. Basically in the theatrical version the main team all end up being useless and only once Superman shows up he saves everyone’s asses and literally does EVERYTHING. Might as well have called the film Man of Steel 2 (feat. Justice League). However in this new version, every main character serves a purpose. Well most of them do at least. Cyborg and Flash are much more compelling characters with more layers and backstory, and in fact are a prime reason to defeating the great evil in the end. You now understand why Cyborg actor Ray Fisher was pissed at Joss Whedon, as the guy literally got rid of his best stuff. Superman strikes a cool black suit and is still powerful, however as the finale shows, he isn’t all-powerful and does need the help of the rest of the team. Wonder Woman gets a lot more to do in this theatrical cut, and in fact this is probably Gal Gadot’s best performance as Wonder Woman and she really shows herself as a powerful female superhero! Aquaman’s role stays largely unchanged, however to be honest Jason Momoa’s character was one of the only ones who didn’t suffer in the theatrical cut. That’s unsurprising seeing as Jason Momoa is such a naturally cool dude! A big panda that is friendly in real life, but when necessary can turn into a roaring bear. To be honest, the only League member that ends up a bit pointless is actually Batman. He still serves a purpose in the film in that he’s the one who assembles the team, but otherwise the rest of the group is so overpowered compared to him that in the end you do kind of think that he doesn’t really belong there. Still, Ben Affleck is great in the role and it’s a shame we won’t see much of him past Flashpoint film that will be released in the next few years.

There are a lot of characters in this film and one can still say the movie is overstuffed, but also seeing as the movie was originally intended to spring board the DCEU properly, all these teases are actually welcome. There are an abundance of cameos, and to be honest so many characters are so well cast that you do end up wishing that Snyder was given the opportunity to make his entire Justice League planned trilogy, but nevertheless at least we have this. There are truly an abundance of cool appearances here, from the menacing villain Darkseid (played by Ray Porter) to Willem Dafoe doing what Dafoe does best, only in this case underwater and I’m certain that’s gonna span many comparison memes with The Lighthouse. Joe Morton as Cyborg’s dad is given a lot more to do here and in fact is pivotal towards building up Cyborg into the important character that he is. There’s also a cameo from Jared Leto’s Joker, who in some ways redeems himself after his appearance in Suicide Squad. Also, we need to talk about Steppenwolf, who’s the main baddie in this film. In the theatrical cut the guy was the most generic one-note villain who also looked like a PS2 character. It was honestly embarrassing the way he was animated. Luckily in this version he’s been put through enough Skyrim mods to looks much more intimidating and is also given a better motivation. As we find out, the reason he does what he does is because he wants to go home. He’s been banished and he simply wants to earn his place back home, so it’s actually kind of sweet. Steppenwolf is a sweetie. I mean, yeah, he wants to destroy half of the world to fulfil his dream, but hey, haven’t we all taken something extreme measures to get what we want?

The film is far from perfect though. At the end of the day, the movie is just about a guy hunting down a bunch of magical boxes. That was the premise of the theatrical cut and its the same here too. Yes, there is more substance and gravitas to the proceedings, but at the end of the day the story doesn’t really surprise much. And with the entire thing running at 4 hours, it is definitely too long and there is the element where there is simply too much in this thing. Also visually, though the movie has plenty of gorgeous shots and Zack Snyder’s signature slow motion sequences are on full display here, there are still many sequences where the CGI and green screen are super obvious and look really fake. That being said there’s still so much visual goodness in this, and also I have to mention Junkie XL’s new music score that does reiterate the epic feel of this movie, in comparison to Danny Elfman’s weak uninspiring notes in the theatrical cut.

Zack Snyder’s Justice League is a massive surprise and completely changes the perception of what we saw in the original 2017 theatrical cut. It’s a sprawling massive adventure that’s a dream come true for any comic book fan. It shows how vital film editing is, and how important it is to have a cohesive plan when making a movie. Gone too are the silly forced jokes, and though there is still some humour here, it feels more grounded and fit of the setting and scenario. This is Snyder’s vision through and through, and though at times it is clunky, it overall is incredible to behold, as it’s this one guy’s mind and his love for the DC lore. It’s a credible achievement, and I’m actually sentimentally happy for Snyder that he finally managed to complete this. He even during the credits dedicates this to his daughter Autumn that passed away, and I found that to be truly bittersweet. Justice has indeed been served.

Overall score: 7/10

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ultrahpfan5blog · 3 years

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Rewatching The Hunger Games series

So I saw The Hunger Games quadrilogy after roughly a year or so. Its a series that I genuinely enjoy for the most part. When the first movie came out, I had gone because the critical reception had been so positive that I got interested in the film. After the film, I bought and read all three books before Catching Fire came out. This series was the peak of the young adult book adaptation era and was definitely the highest quality of those, even though that isn’t saying much because majority of the adaptations were pretty poor.

When it comes to the movies, the first two especially are damn good. Gary Ross deserves more credit than he gets for the success of this series because he puts the essential pieces in place. He got critical casting choices right on the money with Jennifer Lawrence, Donald Sutherland, Woody Harrelson, Stanley Tucci, and Elizabeth Banks being the highlights. The shaky cam technique becomes a little much but it does lend to the gritty feeling of the movie. The film managed to strike the right balance of showing the morbidity of this world but also giving some excitement and entertainment by contrasting it with some truly bright and energetic visuals and characters, lending to the social commentary of the class differences in this world.

Catching Fire was even better. Clearly, you could tell that the movie got a major upgrade. Francis Lawrence brought a much steadier and cleaner visual technique. I think the expansion of the world and the ensemble cast works in its favor The returning cast were all excellent but the new additions of Sam Claflin, Jena Malone, Jeffrey Wright, and Seymour Hoffman worked wonders. I liked that Lawrence aptly captured the horror of the arena. The poison fog sequence in particular is quite horrifying. The film is kinetic and much more fast paced. It gives a lot more texture to the things going in this world.

The last two movies are inferior in comparison. Part of that has to do with the source material and part of that has to do with the decision to split the book into two. I do think Mockingjay is the weakest book of the three. Unfortunately Katniss becomes far too reactionary a character in the book. While that may be realistic as a teenager in a war scenario, it doesn’t make for very interesting reading when you are following her POV in the book and in the movie. Fundamentally I am ok with splitting a final book where its warranted. I feel it definitely worked in Harry Potter, but it doesn’t quite work here. In Mockingjay Part 1, you can feel the film trying to fill empty space. Also, with the film almost entirely set in underground bunkers, there isn’t much visual color as entertainment as well compared to the previous film. The film also just doesn’t have a climax that packs a punch. The cliffhanger is handled well but the climax leading to the cliffhanger is fairly dull and again, the main character is never in any real danger throughout the film.

Part 2 is slightly better but its about as bleak a conclusion to a series that I have seen. It definitely has way more in terms of action. But there is almost no humor in the movie with Effie and Haymitch, the main sources of humor from Part 1, are largely absent. Again, the issues of the book kind of affect the movie as well. Katniss’ mission throughout the movie has no impact on the eventual outcome as she fails to actually accomplish her mission. So the whole mission of her and the team fighting their way into the Capitol feels a little pointless from a narrative standpoint. But it does have a lot more momentum than Part 1. Certainly, the mutt attack sequence is pretty terrifying and the film does earn its ending.

Similar to Harry Potter, one of this franchise’s biggest strengths is casting. I didn’t know much about Jennifer Lawrence prior to the first movie, so she pretty much blew me away and she continued to sustain that level of performance throughout. She’s obviously playing the character a little older than the book version but it really works and she carries the franchise effortlessly. The casting masterstroke of the franchise for me was Donald Sutherland. Reading the books, I honestly can’t think of a better casting decision for the role. He’s perfect as the brilliant snakelike devil of a man. He’s a scene stealer throughout. Woody Harrelson as Haymitch is fantastic. He brings a lot of humor to the table. He is really missed when his role gets reduced in the last couple of films. Elizabeth Banks as Effie is the one major upgrade from book to movie. By giving Effie a much more rounded and sympathetic character arc and having her being a part of the overall story in Mockingjay, the performance and the character shines a lot more. Banks is terrific. Adding heart and humor when required. Josh Hutcherson wasn’t exactly whom I thought when I think of Peeta but he grew into the role really well. I think he improved with every movie and he was pretty fantastic in Mockingjay Part 2. Liam Hemsworth was one who I felt was just ok. To be fair to him, he really doesn’t have to do much other than look good and then pine for Katniss. Sam Claflin and Jena Malone lit up the screen in Catching Fire. Its a pity they don’t get all that much to do in subsequent films though they do get a handful of good scenes there too. Hoffman as Plutarch was a good screen partner for Sutherland and later for Moore. Moore herself came in and delivered really well as President Coin. There was also a nice performance by Maharshala Ali as Boggs. Lenny Kravitz as Cinna was another welcome addition in the first two films. Overall, it was a good pack of actors who were really giving it their all that made the series work as well as it did.

#the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #jennifer lawrence #josh hutcherson #donald sutherland #woody harrelson #liam hemsworth #elizabeth banks

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mst3kproject · 3 years

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Invasion of the Star Creatures

I promised you guys something truly awful this week, didn’t I? Well, how about a space invasion ‘comedy’ (big emphasis on the air quotes there) produced by Samuel Zarkoff to be a double-bill with The Brain that Wouldn’t Die? The closest thing it has to a star is Frankie Ray, whom MSTies might know as the writer of Laserblast. He also wrote Zoltan, Hound of Dracula, which I really, really need to see one of these days. Film Historian Bill Warren described Invasion of the Star Creatures as ‘so helplessly bad it’s almost unwatchable’. Let’s find out if he was right.

Fort Nicholson is the world’s center for atomic research, despite apparently being staffed entirely by idiots. The two biggest idiots are, unfortunately, our main characters. Their names are Philbrick and Penn. No, I don’t know which is which. No, I don’t care. I’m gonna call them Rick and Rick With The Squeaky Voice. The first ‘comedic’ sequence involves Rick With The Squeaky Voice sitting in a barrel pretending he’s going to space, and getting his ass set on fire.

That sets the tone for the whole movie quite nicely. It’s stupid and it’s not funny, and it never gets any better. In fact, as we shall see, it gets significantly worse.

For some reason, Rick and Rick With The Squeaky Voice are assigned to a mission to explore a cave recently exposed by a nuclear test. This turns out to be the base for two seven-foot space women, Tanga and Pona, and their tuberous minions, the Vege-Men, and the entire party is soon in their clutches. The aliens say that they have come to save humanity from destroying ourselves through nuclear war, but naturally the army isn’t into that. Rick With The Squeaky Voice discovers that kissing the women puts them into a daze, allowing the two idiots to escape, but of course nobody back at Fort Nicholson believes their story. Is it really up to these two to stop Tanga and Pona from heading back to their home planet with their report? We’re doomed.

I don’t remember which review it was, but I once invited you to imagine a movie in which every character is Dropo or Watney Smith. This is that movie. This is proud of being that movie. The aliens try to read the two Ricks’ minds and one is completely empty while the other is full of superhero fantasies. Pona calls what she sees ‘completely illogical and infantile’, which is a fair description of the whole movie.

There’s a sequence where one of the army men shoots a rattlesnake that was about to bite one of the Ricks, and then cries because ‘he might have had a family’. They try to lampoon the thing in old movies where the characters walk through the same set from different angles by doing it without cutting away or changing the camera angle, but it just looks dumb. The Colonel gives a long-winded speech about the merits of getting straight to the point. A forced march stops for a lovely picnic and wine tasting. A guy gets his ass kicked by a Vege-Man and declares, “that’s the first time a salad ever tossed me.” There’s a running ‘gag’ about fans of ‘Space Commander Connors’ recognizing each other’s secret decoder rings and immediately going into a full-on geek-out.

None of this is funny, much of it is downright embarrassing, and the worst part is that the writers have no idea how to include their attempts at comedy in the story. Rather than the hijinks advancing the plot, every time something that’s supposed to be funny happens, the whole thing comes to a dead halt. This gives the impression that the movie is stumbling around in the dark with no idea where it’s going. It finally seems to settle on a plot when we find out that the spaceship is about to leave and must be stopped. After some bullshit the Ricks convince the Colonel (and only the Colonel) to help them take on the aliens. At this point I was thinking that this movie was pretty terrible but it hadn’t actually pushed me to the point of being tempted to turn it off…

And then it got racist.

The last ten minutes or so of Invasion of the Star Creatures are a downward spiral in which it seems like they gave up trying to be funny in favour of being actively offensive. First, they encounter what’s supposed to be a group of Native Americans on horseback. Rick With The Squeaky Voice tries to get their attention by saying “hey, Kemosabe, I wanna buy some blankets!” The Natives don’t speak much English but they do a lot of grunting, and threaten to kill the Colonel because they think he’s General Custer (?!). Then they kidnap everybody and force them to smoke the peace pipe and drink firewater and the white guys only escape once the Natives have passed out.

Holy shit. Not only is this repulsive, it is, as previously noted, irrelevant. It has no effect on the plot other than to waste time. The Natives do not help them defeat the aliens and neither does the Colonel, who is also in a drunken stupor. And then, just when we think this can’t possibly get any worse, the defeated alien women declare that they must throw themselves on the mercy of the Earth Men. This turns out to mean marrying them, and the dialogue specifically likens marriage to slavery, which Tanga and Pona seem to consider a point in its favour! The end of this movie left my head spinning. It’s like I watched a guy get ‘comedically’ knocked over by a punching bag for forty-five minutes and then he suddenly turned around and punched me in the face.

(Hey, I just realized… remember how I said the cave was exposed by a nuclear test? The dialogue emphasizes how this whole area is irradiated and dangerous – and then totally forgets about it. It’s never mentioned again and the characters take off their protective gear and never put it back on. So… that was useless, too.)

There is stuff in this movie that could have been funny. The secret decoder ring stuff almost got a smile out of me once or twice, because the characters seemed so earnest in their love for ‘Space Commander Connors’ and his lore. The ‘Vege-Men’ also had potential. We get to see a greenhouse room where they’re grown to be the women’s slaves, and the seedlings are hands or feet sticking out of flowerpots with a few leaves around them. This is fairly amusing and I could see it being the juvenile form of a sentient plant on Star Trek TOS. Adult Vege-Men are actors in stupid carrot costumes that they obviously can’t see out of very well, which should have been funny just because it’s so terrible, but Invasion of the Star Creatures is so bad you can’t even laugh at it ironically.

The idea of using a bumbling idiot as your main character, let alone two bumbling idiots, frankly baffles me. Rick and Rick With The Squeaky Voice are supposed to be the guys we, the audience, identify with. We’re supposed to like and root for them and to perhaps be able to imagine ourselves in their places, but the only thing I feel for them is contempt. Why would anyone want to see themselves in these guys? Perhaps it’s an attempt to say that anybody can be a hero, but the two Ricks don’t even qualify as that. When they save the world, it’s basically by accident. The ending, which rewards them with promotions, medals, and beautiful wives from outer space, actively makes me angry because they didn’t earn any of that!

Invasion of the Star Creatures works very hard at being pointless, and there’s very little in it that comes anywhere near a theme. If any such thing exists, its in Tanga and Pona’s insistence that they’re here to save humanity whether we like it or not, and how the humans react to that idea. The women say it would be a shame to see a young civilization destroy itself because nations were too stupid to work together. Rick and Rick With The Squeaky Voice reject this entirely, which is supposed to be a joke: these guys are in the army, so if humanity transcends the need for conflict they’d be out of a job. The rest of the plot then seems at pain to emphasize that humans cannot work together, and do not want to.

After all, the two Ricks’ attempts to summon help come to nothing. The Native Americans never understand that these men want assistance, and the Colonel thinks it’s all a Space Commander Connors game before sliding under the metaphorical table, having never done anything useful. The Ricks themselves spent most of their time arguing and complaining and in the end succeed only through good luck on their part and poor timing on that of the invaders. Usually a story that begins with ‘aliens want to save primitive humans from ourselves’ would end with ‘the aliens were wrong about us’. Invasion of the Star Creatures seems to want to say the aliens were right the whole time!

So there you have it – Invasion of the Star Creatures. It started off kinda bad and not funny, then swirled down the cinematic toilet into outright offensive, racist, sexist drivel. I’m trying to think of some small thing I can say about it that’s nice, but I’m having a very hard time. I guess I kinda liked the rumbly noises that represent the alien language – that was more fun than just having the actresses spout random gobbledygook. Other than that, I’m at a loss. The actors suck, the sets suck, the effects suck, the costumes suck, and everybody involved was a bigoted dickweed. Fuck this movie.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #invasion of the star creatures #fuck this movie #60s

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no6secretsanta · 3 years

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Gala Grind

WOO SECRET SANTA!

@allxkka this is for you! YOU ASKED FOR AN AU, high school, college, or theater and well, THIS HAPPENED. All three of those things get mentioned in this fic? So… : ) Hope you enjoy.

(should be up on my archive by now, if it isn’t, it will be shortly)

---

Hours earlier, Nezumi had watched as the average hotel lobby transformed into an expensive-looking Gala hall, courtesy of staff members with dead eyes. At the time, he’d found it impressive, the way the white cloth tables, goody-bags, and endless floral arrangements were able to grant the blank room a weighted sort of potential energy.

Now, though, he was confident that he had only watched the room go from one form of emptiness to another. Goody-bags were swept under chairs in an unending flood of expensive champagne and cheap conversation. Nezumi could feel the flowers wilting.

“What’s the name of this company anyway?” he asked the man sitting across from him. The placard at his seat read: “Yoming”.

“Civitas Rosis. You don’t know of us?” Yoming replied. As he spoke a shiny gold watch on his wrist caught the light.

Nezumi’s finger traced the rim of his champagne glass - of course it was empty, now when he needed it most. “I’m a plus-one,” he said. “Guest of a guest. That is quite a name."

"It’s Latin. The title is from one of our parent companies we outgrew,” Yoming said, with the air of a proud conqueror. “The taking of their title was a sort of symbolic representation of our independence. We’re the kind of place that never forgets the little steps that helped us get where we are.”

“Oh, I see. A real rags-to-riches Cinderella story.”

“We consider it more David and Goliath,” Yoming said, dark eyes glinting. Nezumi envisioned a future where he strangled him with his necktie, unbuckled the watch from his wrist, and pawned it off for a lifetime supply of macaroons. It was a bright future.

“Of course,” Nezumi drawled. “Although…in this David and Goliath story David would have to put on Goliath’s skin after he took him down. A little too graphic to market, don’t you think?”

The businessman fluffed up like an offended bird. “What did you say your name was?”

“My name? Rikiga,” Nezumi simpered, and then flashed his teeth. “Most sincere apologies. Are you always so defensive or did you steal that from your dead parent company too?”

The silence between them stretched for a full minute - not that anyone could tell over the boot-licking and networking chatter that filled the rest of the dining area.

“Who are you guest of?” Yoming asked, slowly.

The caterer, Nezumi thought, but he wasn’t about to get Shion into trouble with his millionaire undercover boss. He pointed blindly at the name plaque next to him. Yoming’s face scrunched.

“Tori, I should have known.”

Nezumi had no idea who this Tori was, but he felt a fleeting sort of guilt for the resigned way Yoming said his name, and the speed at which he stood.

“Good day, Mr. Rikiga,” Yoming said in a tone of voice that made it abundantly clear nothing good was about to happen.

“A pleasure meeting you!"

Yoming was dialing a number on his cellphone with frightening speed as he ducked out of the room. Poor Tori.

Oh well. It was time to leave that table anyway. First though…

The goody-bags were mostly filled with useless nonsense: Business cards and Civitas Rosis plastic shot glasses and salt-shakers, but there was a gem at the bottom. Nezumi dumped the junk into Tori’s abandoned bag, but rescued the carefully-wrapped bag of cookies and a card to Karan’s bakery - painfully sincere amongst all the company-labelled knick-knacks and trappings.

Like a certain someone.

Nezumi exhaled. He probably shouldn’t have picked a fight. He hoped this minor tiff wouldn’t reflect negatively on Karan and Shion’s impeccable skills and service. He popped one of the cookies in his mouth, chewed.

"Nezumi!”

Shion. He was clumsily weaving through the tables - balm to Nezumi’s exhausted soul, relentlessly appealing in his all-black formal catering uniform.

“You look nice,” Nezumi swallowed appreciatively, before popping another cookie in his mouth, looking him up and down.

Flattery and exhaustion warred on Shion’s face. He pulled out the seat next to Nezumi, but then pushed it back in, evidently, deciding standing would be better.

“Something to say, Shion?”

“I have a favor to ask,” Shion said.

He held Nezumi’s hand in both of his. Nezumi stopped chewing.

—

“Please Nezumi, their singer is sick!” Shion grumbled, following Nezumi into the bathroom so they could keep the conversation private. “They need someone to sing a few songs and say just a few nice things about the company and I know you’ve done galas before—hey. Don’t look like that. You have the training for this!”

“I dropped out, Shion,” Nezumi replied, colder than he meant to be.

Training was a bit of a trigger word if he was being completely honest. As a proud college dropout, he had recently come to terms with the fact that the best thing his stint in academia had given him was ecologist-turned-caterer Shion.

Shion was not deterred. He shook his head, quickly slipping an OUT OF ORDER sign onto the door to the men’s bathroom.

“Listen to me—"

“—Why are you carrying that?” Nezumi asked, temporarily distracted.

“Sometimes caterers need some time alone,” Shion clarified without hesitation. “I’m not giving up on this. You’re the only one who can do this Nezumi, and your voice is beautiful. You have soul. That’s all an audience needs. A diploma doesn’t matter— You taught me that.”

Ugh, Nezumi had. Theoretically. Shion had been miserable in grad school, signing up for all the most difficult labs to challenge his own brilliant mind. It had been a mistake. A brilliant mind wasn’t what his professors wanted— cutting corners was, and Shion wasn’t going to do that.

Shion had dropped first. A month later, Nezumi made the same call, but for very different reasons.

Pursuing a degree in theater, in all honesty, had been a mistake.

His heart had wanted it, though. Nezumi’s stupid heart, still beating, ever-longing, ready to make important life decisions with the loudest possible voice no matter how deeply he buried it in his chest. His heart had won him over during the lonely years after high school— singing in bars for tips. It had convinced him that with education maybe that could be a job—his full-time job. A job where he wouldn’t have to scrape by and beg.

So, he had saved. He had saved and he paid for some classes. An education. Rags-to-riches, right?

As it turned out, Nezumi paid a lot for academia to teach his heart what his head knew already: love was disappointing. Love didn’t fill your stomach, or your pockets. Love left you with debt—left you with dreams. Singing wasn’t a career—it was a survival mechanism.

So yeah, he didn’t much like to be reminded of his training. He didn’t particularly like to be reminded of his soul, either.

“Shion—” he started, but Shion kissed him before he could finish, pressing him gently into the wall of the nice hotel bathroom. His heart took over— no more thoughts— as he wrapped his arms around Shion’s shoulders and felt the fabric of his stupid hot catering uniform. Warm. Shion was so fucking warm, all the time.

He had just about forgotten what they were talking about when Shion broke away, eyes impossibly bright.

“I know you,” he whispered, voice low and urgent enough to send a tiny, tiny tremor down Nezumi’s spine. “I know you, Nezumi, and you love to perform. Why are you resisting? What’s holding you back? Let me help.”

His hand was on Nezumi’s cheek, and Nezumi felt his resolve crumble.

Dammit. Damn him. Damn this. Damn the excitement in Nezumi’s veins, the stupid thrilling call of the stage. Damn this man, this infuriating, wonderful man that knew Nezumi’s stupid, stupid, stupid, theatrical heart.

“I’ll sing, Shion,” he said, finally, meeting the torrent that was Shion’s eyes. “I just can’t promise any miracles. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“I’m not asking for miracles, Nezumi,” Shion replied, grinning victoriously. His lips were red; his cheeks appealingly flushed. “Just you. Just your voice. That’s always been enough, you know.”

Nezumi’s heart may have lost when it came to his college education, but with Shion…Well. Maybe the debt was worth it.

—-

Nezumi stood in front of the crowd, microphone in hand. His set list and suggested script sat on a music stand in a black binder. No one would have to know there was actually no paper in the binder, but rather that everything had been hastily scrawled on a napkin by the company treasurer.

Nezumi tapped the microphone once. Feedback echoed through the gala hall, but hey, it caught everyone’s attention so mission accomplished.

“Having fun tonight?” he offered to the stuffy suits and ties. He was rewarded with polite applause.

God, Nezumi thought. Sounds like a fucking golf game. He almost missed the constant cat-calls of his bar. Almost.

His heart was beating though, thudding in a way that clearly never got the message this was stupid and pointless. His eyes scanned the crowd and found Karan and Shion at their modest table in the back. He smiled, for them, slipping into the role of gala MC.

Shion really did look great in that uniform.

“Let’s give another round of applause for our lovely host Civitas Rosis — long may they reign!”

The sarcasm didn’t slip through to his voice but judging by the rewarding scowl on Yoming’s face and the expanding smile on Shion’s— it was understood by the parties that needed to hear it.

Shion, to Nezumi’s surprise and delight, couldn’t stand Yoming either. He had apparently been flirting at Karan for almost the entire party, and Shion, for all his gullibility, had a bullshit detector that could rival Nezumi’s. When he had heard about Nezumi’s earlier argument, seconds before Nezumi was shoved to the stage, his face had changed. There was a rare, vengeful glint in his eyes as he whispered: Honestly, I’m glad you did— now maybe I’ll be able to resist arguing with him, myself. Maybe.

Fuck, Nezumi loved him.

It was a stray thought, but a true one, and one Nezumi didn’t have time to over-consider as he picked up the mic and began to sing, voice echoing through the lobby.

Yoming, pleasingly, had a deep scowl on his face, but Karan was mouthing the words next to him. Yeah that wouldn’t last.

Nezumi’s life hadn’t really gone according to plan.

He was a college drop-out singing in a hotel lobby that meant nothing to him, and for a company he couldn’t stand.

But still, he smiled as he sang. It wasn’t to survive— wasn’t for an ill-advised money-making dream, but for the caterer watching with enamored eyes in the back of the room.

It was fun. His heart pulsed in his chest, poor, but satisfied.

It was his best performance yet.

#secretagentfan #allxkka #no6 #no 6 #no.6 #no. 6 #no6secretsanta #gala grind #nezumi #submission

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overheardatthecontinental · 3 years

Link

“Is the Manager in?”

“The Manager is always in.” Charon responds as he always does, blinking at the sight of John Wick. When he had left the Continental, less than an hour ago, he seemed calm and resigned. Now, he appeared frazzled, although there were no apparent marks or injuries bruising the assassin. “He retired to his private chambers—”

John Wick nodded and set a handful of coins on the counter that he had taken from the trunk of his car. “I need a room—no accommodations, just standard mission prep.”

The mission prep rooms were used more for local assassins. They came equipped with top of the line technology, as well as space for maps and guides, weapons assembly and cleaning.

“I also need the Technician sent to the room immediately. I need a phone traced yesterday.”

“I’ll make sure to send him to your room once he’s finished with—”

John cuts off Charon. He’ll apologize later, he decides, but there isn’t fucking time. “I’m calling in Sante Fe. I need him now.”

Charon blinks, surprise evident on his face, but he nods. “Of course, Mister Wick.” He reaches back and grabs a lower key off a hook and hands it over, “Shall I direct the Manager to your room?”

“Please. And the Sommelier.” John grabs the key and departs, taking long strides down the hall.

John rarely used the rooms set for mission prep unless he was on a time sensitive case that didn't allow for trips back and forth over the river. He unlocked the room and stared at the expanse.

There was much to do but nothing that he could start until he got a trace on her phone. He doubted this new enemy would make things easy for him. They probably already had the signal blocked but he had to try. The only other hope was that Winston would know something. The Manager had an ear to the ground in every part of New York City.

John tosses the key to one of the tables and starts pacing.

Whoever wanted Lorenzo and the D’Antonio siblings killed would benefit from the Camorra collapsing. Of course, that included everyone the Camorra held something over, lesser Italian mobs, and the other eleven assholes who held seats at the High Table.

Bullshit politics, he thinks.

Somebody had followed him, watched him to analyze his weaknesses. And they had taken Helen over bullshit politics.

John grabs the chair that sits in front of one of the tables and throws it across the room. The wall cracks under the weight before the chair snaps into a handful of pieces.

“That was an antique, Jonathan.”

“I’ll pay for damages.” He says, not caring, as he turns. Winston stares at him, looking him up and down. John doesn’t give him a chance to comment on his, likely, pathetic posture. “I need a list of everyone who wants Lorenzo D’Antonio dead.”

Winston stares at him in disbelief, “Half of the Camorra want Lorenzo D’Antonio dead. His children want him dead. Most of New York, the entirety of the Sicilian Mafia, the Triad, the Bravta—“

John shakes his head, “I’m looking for an individual, aside from his children. Someone would benefit from the collapse of the Camorra.”

“Again, the list is nearly endless. I would indirectly benefit from collapse of the Camorra. But the point is moot, to act against Lorenzo is to act against the High Table itself.”

John exhales a breath. He was afraid that would be the case.

He opens his phone and looks at his messages again. From Helen’s work phone, a picture of her had been sent. She looked like she was sleeping but he knew she was sedated.

Her hands were bound in front of her and while she seemed largely okay, there were bruises forming on her arms. Her bare arms, exposed by her nightgown. And in that state of undress, they had her on a cement floor.

If Winston didn’t know, and the Technician couldn’t trace the phone, he would have no choice but to go after Lorenzo. He would face whatever backlash there was with the knowledge that Helen would be safe.

Unless, the unknown enemy didn’t keep up their end of the bargain…

Winston clears his throat, “You’ve never shown an interest in Underworld politics.”

“No.” John says, still staring at the screen. “Winston, I need you to dig as quietly as you can. Anybody who’s challenged the Camorra over the last… I don’t know, three years. Open challenges, rumors of trying to find someone to take a contract against Lorenzo.”

“Jonathan,” Winston steps forward, cautiously asking, “are you going to try to kill Lorenzo D’Antonio?”

If I have to.

“I’ve been asked to.”

Winston’s frown deepens “Conspiring to kill a member of the High Table is enough to get you stripped of services!”

John inclines his head, “I’m well aware of the rules, Winston. And I’d rather not have to kill Lorenzo but the matter is complicated.”

“In what way is it complicated?”

John hesitates. He had been stupid to think he could keep Helen safe from the Underworld. And while he had hoped to never reveal her existence to anyone, it was too late for that. He had, unwittingly, involved her.

Winston would disapprove, he already knew.

“I’m being blackmailed, and I’m not sure by who, but someone” I love “very dear to me is being threatened if I don’t.”

His mentor swears. “You know better than to get involved with someone not of our world.”

“I do.” John agrees.

Again, Winston swears.

“I have no inclination to kill the D’Antonio’s, but if I can’t find out who has her, where she is… I will.”

“You can’t act against the High Table—”

John says nothing but raises a brow.

Winston knows him better than anyone, save Helen. The older assassin took John under his wing in John’s early days in the Underworld. He offered guidance and advice, impressed with John’s skill but devastated by his lack of ambition.

Looking back, his relationship with Winston was the most consistent in his life.

So Winston knows, better than most, just how reckless John Wick is willing to be.

Looking defeated, Winston shakes his head, “No woman is worth your life.”

John snorts, “She’s worth a hell of a lot more than my life.”

There’s a knock on the door and John answers it. The Technician, looking rather frazzled, comes in with a large backpack and two smaller briefcases.

“Charon said I was needed.”

John takes out his phone again and unlocks it. “I recently received a call from this contact. I need their phone traced remotely, as fast as you can. It’s likely they’re expecting a trace.”

The Technician takes the phone over to one of the table, “Do you know who the phone is registered to? It’ll be easier if I can track their SIM card. They likely dumped the phone itself to disable the GPS”

“Helen Kingston.”

“Know when she bought it?”

John shakes his head, “No, but it might have been charged to her work account.”

“Where does she work?”

John barely holds back a wince because if Winston was annoyed before, he was about to become really pissed off. “New York City Counseling Associates.”

He can practically hear the steam coming out of Winston’s ears.

“Jonathan, please tell me your girlfriend is not a therapist.”

“My girlfriend’s not a therapist.” Not a lie.

She wasn’t his girlfriend. Just his therapist.

The Technician asked as he plugged in a laptop, “You know her social?”

He probably shouldn’t, but he does. He recites the digits and looks up to see Winston staring at him incredulously.

“Jonathan, who is this woman to you?”

John looks back down, watching as the Technician opens the file attached with Helen’s social security number. Newspaper clippings mentioning her pop-up, along with her transcripts going from Kindergarten all the way through graduate school. Her bank statements, along with every credit card assigned to her.

“Jonathan!”

John doesn’t look up, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, Winston.”

“Please tell me that she’s not your—"

There’s another knock on the door and John, gratefully, steps away from the table and from Winston.

The Sommelier arrives with a room service table on wheels, covered with a white sheet that John knows from experience will have a variety of weapons.

He pushes the door further open and allows the woman entrance.

“Mister Wick.” She greets.

“Rita.”

“Charon was unsure of what you needed so I brought an assortment for you to try.”

“I appreciate that. Unfortunately, I’m currently unsure of what I’ll need. Versatility is a must.”

“Jonathan!” Winston says again, “Please excuse us, Rita, Karl, I need to speak to Mister Wick in the other room.”

Fuck.

John sighs, looking to the Technician, “If the phone rings from that, or any unknown number, get me immediately.”

“Of course, Mister Wick.”

John follows Winston to the back room.

It consists of a combined kitchenette unit with a coffee pot, microwave, and sink along with a twin-sized bed to nap or rest before missions.

John closes the door and crosses his arms.

He can practically hear Helen telling him to stop looking so defensive.

Winston stands by the counter and runs a hand through his greying hair. “Tell me that you’re not about to go to war with the High Table over your fucking therapist.”

John says nothing.

“Jonathan.”

“You told me not to tell you.”

Winston swears again, the anger and disdain dripping from his colorful language. John waits for him to get it out of his system. If he didn’t need Winston for this, he might have just walked away. He considers it in the moment but if the Tech can’t locate that phone, Winston might be his only shot at figuring out who had her.

But he could handle Winston, so long as he made it about the D’Antonio’s.

Finally, the old man shakes his head, “What the hell were you thinking?”

He isn’t sure what to say.

It’s been seven months and John’s note entirely sure what he was thinking, going into session that first day.

She had given him comfort that day in the café. The only comfort he could really remember ever receiving.

He knew therapy was pointless for someone like him, but he’d called her… just to hear her voice one more time.

But she had sucked him in, convinced him to come see her again and he had been done for.

What had he been thinking?

That Helen’s eyes reminded him of the forests in Belarus. That her smile was worth more than an eternity of sunny days. That she had railroaded him with kindness until he wasn’t sure who he was anymore.

That if someone like Helen could see the good in him… maybe he wasn’t all bad.

His intentions, of course, are marked by his selfishness.

It never should have gotten to this point.

He had been careful, making sure that he left no trace behind on the nights he snuck into her bedroom to watch her sleep. But he hadn’t been careful enough.

He was so focused on Helen, he stopped looking over his shoulder.

And now, she was paying the price.

Winston opens his mouth and John cuts him off before he can be berated, “I don’t have an answer for you, Winston. I fucked up.”

“Clearly.” Winston shakes his head, then loudly spits out, “Therapy. Do you lay on a couch and talk about your childhood?”

John rolls his eyes. This is what Helen would call mental health stigma.

“Why do you need therapy?” Winston asks, the disgust clear in his voice.

Again, he has no answer.

At least, no answer that Winston would accept.

There was a laundry list of reasons that John needed therapy. There was probably one, equally as long, as why Winston would benefit from therapy. But Winston wouldn’t see it that way.

Before he started to see Helen, John probably would have agreed with him.

“I’m not sure if this helps,” John says, “But I only started going because she was attractive.”

Physically, mentally, emotionally. John had been an eager moth to her flame.

“If she’s attractive, you ask her to dinner. You fuck her. You get her out of your system and get your head back into the game. You don’t complain to her about your issues! But now we have some civilian out there, with no knowledge of our world, being held hostage and—"

“She knows.”

The weight of those words rests on Winston and he stops his rant, suddenly going very still.

“What?”

“She knows. About all of this.”

“You told,” Winston repeated, “a fucking mandated reporter that you’re an assassin?”

John nods once.

Winston’s eyes seem to pop as he stares at John.

“I know I’ve already asked this, so forgive me the repetition, but what the fuck were you thinking?” Winston all but screams.

“She won’t talk.”

“Oh, are you sure about that?”

“Yes.” John says with a sense of finality, “Even with this…” he withholds a shudder, again remembering the picture of her bound and sedated on a cold, cement floor, “I trust her.”

“Clearly.” Winston snarls, “But there is a reason we don’t advertise our services to the world! Every single person who learns about the Underworld, in any respect, is supposed to be reported to your local Adjudication services.”

“You know I don’t give a fuck about S.O.P’s.” And before Winston can reply, John raises his voice slightly, “But you also know that I don’t trust easily. Helen’s not going to go running to the media or even the police. The moment she figures out what’s going on…” John shakes his head, wondering if she’s even awake yet, “she’ll know I’m coming for her.”

Winston continues to glare but John holds his gaze. He still looks furious but his posture softens, “Do you love her?”

“Yes.”

Winston lets out a sigh and shakes his head. “You always did take things to the extremes.” Winston mutters, “John Wick gets a hard-on and burns New York City to the ground. Unbelievable.”

In a moment, the air between them had changed. The tension disappeared, even if the disapproval remained.

“Lorenzo and Gianna arrive in the city tomorrow night. Santino is already here. I’ve been given three days to kill them all.” He’s never been good at asking for anything but he finds himself ready and willing to beg, “Winston, I need you to find out who has her. I have no desire to start a war with the High Table and the Camorra, but have no doubt, I will if I have to.”

“It may take time.”

“A luxury we don’t have. If we can’t find whoever is pulling the strings by the time they arrive tomorrow night, I will kill them.”

“I need more than a day, Jonathan. You have through the weekend.”

“I’m not leaving Helen that long.”

“At least, give me until Saturday night.” The Manager compromises, “I’ll do my best. I’ll begin right now, but right now, our only lead is someone who would benefit from the collapse of the Camorra. It isn’t much to go on.”

“Then let’s hope the Technician can pinpoint a location.”

…

She wakes up shaking before she even opens her eyes. Her bed is hard and icy and her covers are no longer tucked around her.

And then it comes rushing back. Waking up to a hand around her mouth and the glint of a needle. A momentary struggle and then nothingness.

Her mouth is dry, her limbs feel heavy.

Even opening her eyes is a struggle but Helen forces them open. All of the sudden, she is very awake.

She’s on her side, still in her nightgown, which gratefully reached her knees. She’s lying on a concrete floor. Iron bars reach from the cold floor up to the ceiling above her, caging her in a box. She uses her bound hands to push up to a sitting position to get a better look around.

The cell itself is empty, save a small stall in the corner that she really hopes contains a bathroom.

Outside of the cell is a spacious unfinished basement. There are mats on the opposite corner, covering the ground. Two punching bags hang from the rafters.

In front of her, two men sit playing cards on a rickety, foldaway table.

There’s a moment of blinding terror, her heart racing in her chest as she takes in her new surroundings. And then there is an eerie wave of calm.

She knows herself well enough to accept her weaknesses for what they are. Physically, she probably can’t put up too much of a fight. She doesn’t have the skill. It occurs to her that she may not even be able to throw a proper punch.

But she’s not useless, either.

She clears her throat, wincing as the action scratches at the dryness.

“Would one of you like to call whoever’s in charge?” She rasps out.

They exchange a look and the one on the left says, “I’m in charge.”

Helen surveys him. If she had to guess, she’d put him in his late twenties. His pants are baggy with tears she can make out from where she sat and he was wearing a sweatshirt.

This wasn’t a random kidnapping, she knew. This was planned. Well thought out. Someone who knew her schedule and learning routine took time. Then, they had sedated her. It was too organized, too clean.

This was about John.

And that kid sitting, playing cards probably had no idea the kind of monster he had just set loose by taking her.

She hums, “Maybe in the room, but not of the operation.” Helen pushes herself back so she can lean against the wall, “Call your boss, honey.”

“Listen, little bitch,” he pushes back from the table and steps over to the iron bars, taunting, “I own you right now.” He tugs a gun loose from the back of his pants, “I could kill you just like that! So how about you show me a little respect.”

“No, you listen, kid.” She forces herself up to her knees and then wobbles to her feet, “You point that thing at me, and we’re going to have a problem. If your boss,” she emphasizes, “wanted me dead, I would have been dead in my bed. No, he took me because he needs me. Alive and unharmed.

“Now, I’ll take pity on you because you’re young and you probably have no idea who you are messing with right now.” And she was certain that neither of her current jailors would stand a chance against John Wick, “So how about you call your boss, and let the grown-ups talk? Hmm?”

She’s dealt with enough pissed off clients to know when to stand her ground and when to back down. And she would be damned if she backed down from a guy who would probably trip running from the cops because he wouldn’t tie his damned laces.

And then he turns away, glaring and tucking his gun back into his pants. He grabs a phone off the table.

Helen closes her eyes and breathes.

Her head is pounding but that truly is the least of her worries.

“She’s awake.” The kid tells whoever’s on the other line. “She wants to speak to the boss.”

The kid hums along to whatever is being said on the other end. He is clearly cut off at the end, pulling the phone from his ear and looking mildly disappointed.

Disillusion amongst the ranks? She wonders. She can work with that.

He shoots her a glare, “He’s coming.”

Helen nods her thanks and rubs at her eyes. Even now that she is awake, her lids still feel heavy. Her body, lethargic. Sore. Cold. She backs up to the wall and slides down to a sitting position.

Her body feels overly tense and she wonders if that’s a side effect of the drug, the cold, or the trauma. Or a mix of all three.

The kid is still standing, which leads her to believe that her actual captor is somewhere in the building. At the very least, nearby.

Sure enough, she hears footsteps coming down the stairs.

He’s not too much older than the boys guarding her but she’d place him in his late thirties. Dark hair, dark eyes. A pleasant smile as he regards her with interest. He’s well-dressed and walks with the assurance that comes from having everything in life handed to you.

“Hello, Miss Kingston.”

“How long have I been here?” She asks and that seems to set him aback.

The man tilts his head. “Do you know who I am?”

“Can’t say I’m interested.” She retorts, “How long have I been here?”

His lips quirk in a daring smile, “You’re not the least bit curious about who I am or why you’re here?”

“I can guess the why. John Wick pissed you off. Or you need him for something no one else could possibly handle. Vengeance, blackmail, I don’t really give a shit. And knowing your name, who you are… it won’t matter because unless you let me go right now, John is going to hunt you down and disembowel you. So let me ask you again, how long have I been here?”

She can vaguely see his two minions staring at her wide-eyed in the background. It occurs to her that maybe she shouldn’t be talking to this stranger like this but what is he going to do? To shoot her, to hurt her would be suicide by angry assassin.

But their leader just smirks, “And all this time, I thought you were just a pretty face. You’re a delight. To answer your question, cara mia, it’s nearly noon.”

She went to bed at ten.

And John, bless his heart, was never as subtle as he thought he was.

He would have been there sometime after midnight for his nightly stalking habits that she pretended she didn’t know about.

“He knows I’m missing.”

“Yes.” He says, “I spoke to him last night. He was quite distraught.”

Helen shakes her head in disbelief. His calmness was unsettling because either he didn’t know what John was capable of or he somehow thought himself above it. She guessed the latter, “I don’t know what you need John for. Between us, I don’t really care. But you need to think long and hard about if this is really your best idea.”

Her captor only smiles, “While your concern is touching, I’m not worried.”

“Then you’re a fool. He won’t let you walk away after this.”

“He won’t have a choice. By the time Wick completes what he needs to, he’ll find himself too entrapped by politics to be able to hunt me down. His precious therapist will be freed, and he will be consumed by the punishment for his actions.

“I suppose,” he inclines his head, “I have you to thank for all this. You entrapped John Wick. I entrapped you. And now the world will be at my fingertips.”

Helen knew she didn’t fully understand Underworld politics but she was certain that this man was vastly overplaying his hand.

“The Camorra will fall. Italia will be mine. And all because John Wick made the mistake of falling in love.”

She swallows but tries not to let it show.

Because she knew. Of course she knew.

She knew John better than anybody. Half the time, she knew what he was thinking before he did.

Helen wasn’t immune to the longing stares he thought he hid so well. She wasn’t blind to the midnight visits John paid her, at first only once or twice a week, until it steadily increased to a nightly guardianship.

And she wasn’t stupid enough to think that no one was ever going to figure it out. A part of her even expected this. At the very least, she wasn’t surprised to find herself kidnapped and held hostage at the whim of one of John’s enemies.

“A therapist.” The man shakes his head, amused, “Tell me, whatever does John Wick cry to you about?”

John hadn’t been kidding about the misplaced misogyny in his world, as well as the unfettered arrogance. This was ridiculous.

She had dealt with ridiculous men before and, while this one clearly believed himself to be special, she wasn’t above doing what she did best.

Helen exhaled, assessing the best she could in her weakened state.

Now was not the time for mistakes.

She took in the suit.

The manner in which he presented himself.

His demeanor.

His attitude.

His actions.

An obvious neophyte in way over his head.

In a position of power that obviously didn’t belong to him, convinced he was far better than he was.

Certainty was never possible, but it was worth the gamble. “Does your mother know that it was you that killed your father?” She asks.

Immediately, the cocky smile vanishes from her captor. “What?” He growls out.

“She struggled to conceive, didn’t she? You were her little miracle baby. Thank fuck you were a son so she didn’t have to go through that again. Daddy needed his heir, didn’t he?”

Bullseye.

“And your father was appeased, for a while. But then you grew older. Not so good at the physical stuff, were you? It must have been confusing, never being able to meet your father’s expectations while your mother insisted that you were perfect in every way.”

“You must think you’re very clever, Miss Kingston--”

“But not as clever as you.” She quips, “Your father tried to teach you to run the business, but years of your mother’s coddling made you soft.”

“Shut up.”

“For years, you trained. You did what he asked. It wasn’t enough, it was never enough. You just couldn’t take it anymore so you killed him. Well,” Helen pauses, “You had him killed. Wouldn’t want to mess up that manicure, would we? Which leads me again, to my first question. What I can’t figure out. Does your mother know that it was you who killed your father?”

She’s met with utter silence. His two minions are staring at her in stunned disbelief. Her captor, however, is fuming. She can feel the rage, the humiliation pouring off him in waves.

Helen inclines her head, “Unless, oh, honey,” she makes a sympathetic face, “Did mommy kill daddy for you?”

“Nick!” A long string of Italian follows the name and the minion who hadn’t threatened her with a gun nods, frantically, before running across the room.

She looks back to the man in charge, “I prefer to counsel in my office, but I can make an exception if you want to start talking through your mommy issues. I won’t even charge you, considering you’ll be dead in a week anyway.”

Nick runs back over with capped needle and Helen resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Here Mister DeLuca.”

Well, now she had a name.

“Seriously?” She gestures around at the cell, “I can’t even walk six feet in any direction, and you’re going to sedate me? If you didn’t want to talk about your mommy issues, you could just say so. Sometimes, we need to build up to the bigger things.”

Her door was unlocked, and it kills her but she doesn’t move or try for escape. She’s still too tired from the last cocktail of sedatives they loaded her with.

The kid, Nick, comes in and Helen idly offers her arm.

Do what you want, she thinks, it won’t stop the storm that’s coming.

“You’re right about one thing.” Helen says, “I am John Wick’s therapist. Which means I know John better than anyone. I know what he’s willing to compromise on and what he’ll hunt you down until the ends of the Earth over.”

Nick grabs her arm, holding it tight as if he’s expecting her to start to struggle as he uncaps the needle with his teeth.

“He’s going to tear you apart.”

The needle pierces her skin.

“So I’ll ask you again. Are you really sure this is your best idea?”

It doesn’t take long for the sedative to run its course but she holds DeLuca’s gaze until the world grows fuzzy.

...................

Taglist: @greenmanalishi, @cynic-spirit

#john wick #helen wick #Winston (John Wick)#charon (john wick)#the sommelier #john x helen wick #helen x john wick #john wick fanfiction #john wick fanfic #overheard at the continental #the matrix has queue #fanfic

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alyssaallyrion · 3 years

Text

Hard hearts and rocks and thorns. (aka InoDei arranged marriage AU)

Chapter 2. (Chapter 1 here)

ao3 link

Ino stands outside the hospital’s physician’s lounge, peering into the room through a small glass window. She sees Sakura sitting at the table by the wall, holding a cup of coffee in her hand. Ino has spent the entire walk to the hospital thinking about what she’s going to tell Sakura the news, and she still hasn’t found the right words. One thing’s for certain – she cannot show Sakura that she doesn’t want this marriage, not even for a moment. Knowing her friend, nothing will stop Sakura from marching into the Hokage’s office to beat some sense into him if she thinks Ino’s being forced.

That leaves only one choice.

Taking a deep breath, Ino puts on her widest smile before pushing the door to the physicians’ lounge open.

“Hey, Forehead, guess what,” she calls out almost too cheerfully.

Sakura turns around in her seat. Like Ino, she hasn’t been getting much sleep lately, so she looks utterly exhausted. Dark shadows under her eyes give her a vulnerable look, reminding Ino of the girl she used to be.

“What is it, Ino-pig?” she sighs, not letting go of her coffee.

“I’m getting married!” Ino chirps with a bright smile, taking a seat next to Sakura at the table.

Sakura stares at her for a moment processing her words, then frowns.

“Hilarious joke,” she scoffs, taking another sip of her coffee, “But last I checked, you weren’t even seeing anyone. So, unless you magically stumbled into a whirlwind romance when you left your shift a few hours ago, I don’t see how that’s possible.”

Ino tries her best to remain calm.

“It’s not a joke,” she says, hoping that Sakura doesn’t notice a small break in her voice.

Sakura places her cup onto the table and looks at Ino with suspicion.

“What do you mean – it’s not a joke? Have you been hiding your relationship from me, Ino-pig?” she almost hisses.

“What kind of friend do you think I am?” Ino bristles instantly, “Of course not – there was no relationship to hide. But I am still getting married in three days to the Tsuchikage’s son.”

Silence falls upon them as the realization slowly dawns upon Sakura’s face.

“You’re…what?” she murmurs.

Ino slowly feels the headache come on as the exhaustion from the sleepless night slowly catches up to her. It was easy being brave with Sakura for the first few minutes, but now that Sakura’s asking questions, she doesn’t know if she can keep up the façade of the happy bride. But she knows she must.

“This morning, Rokudaime-sama came to our house,” Ino says, “And has informed us that Iwa is willing to agree to peace with Konoha…on the condition that a marital alliance occurs between our villages. The Tsuchikage has offered up his own ward for the union…and chose me as a bride for him.”

Sakura stares at her quietly, wide-eyed and dumbfounded.

“I accepted the proposal,” Ino continues, “The wedding will take place in three days.”

Before Ino realizes, Sakura is on her feet, hands clenched into fists.

“Ino-pig, are you out of your mind? Why would you ever agree to this?” Sakura yells, “And Kakashi-sensei, what was he thinking pressuring you like that? Oh, when I get my hands on him, he will be a dead man!”

Ino blinks away the tears threatening to well up in her eyes – she’s so lucky to have a friend who cares about her so much. Still, she needs to be strong and do what must be done.

“Oh, give it up, Forehead,” she laughs tauntingly, “You’re just jealous that I’m getting married first.”

She hopes her mocking will discourage Sakura from trying to help her, but when she meets her gaze, there is no anger in Sakura’s eyes, only concern.

“Ino, I am serious,” Sakura says, reaching over and grabbing her hand, “I will not let you do this. We all know how the Iwa-nin are – they’ll turn on Konoha in a blink of an eye, marital alliance or not. And if – and when – they do, you will be a hostage there.”

Ino frees her hand from Sakura’s grasp and sighs.

“If you want to talk seriously,” she says, “Then know this - being born to an old clan, I’ve always known that I might have to enter a political marriage. If there is even a small possibility that this union will bring lasting peace between Iwa and Konoha, it is worth the risk. I would give up more than that to make sure that my friends and family don’t have to die needlessly.”

“Ino…” Sakura breathes out.

“And so, I’ve made my choice,” Ino adds, “And peace with its consequences. And I ask you to respect it, if only for the sake of our friendship.”

Before Sakura can answer, the door to the physicians’ lounge opens, and a nurse shows up in the doorway, requesting Sakura’s presence in the operating room. Sakura nods, then, before leaving the lounge, turn to Ino.

“This isn’t over,” she says firmly, “Once my shift is over, I’m going straight to Kakashi-sensei to talk some sense into him. There <em>must</em> be some other way.”

Ino wants to tell Sakura that she shouldn’t go, but the look in her friend’s eyes makes it clear that arguing is pointless. So instead, she leans back in her chair and crosses her arms in front of her chest without saying anything. Sakura frowns as she looks at Ino, then walks out of the lounge, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

The silence that falls upon the empty room feels unbearable. Before she can even think, Ino gets up from the chair, walks out into the corridor, and heads to the hospital’s exit. All she wants is to have someone hold her as she cries and complains about how unfair her circumstances are. Luckily, there is one person she knows who would listen to her and not try to force her to back out of the marriage.

“Hi, Choji,” Ino murmurs sadly as he opens his house’s door to her.

“Hey Ino,” he smiles, “You look distraught – is everything alright?”

Ino shakes her head, not trying to fight the tears welling in her eyes, “It really isn’t.”

Instantly, she feels Choji’s warm arm around her shoulders.

“Come in,” he says softly, leading her into the house, “Let’s get you settled, and then you can tell me everything.”

They settle in the garden – to cheer Ino up, Choji brings out a variety of sweets as well as tea. She thanks him, though she has no appetite, and picks up a cup of tea. She doesn’t take a single sip, however – before Ino even knows it, she’s in Choji’s arms, crying her heart out.

She tells him everything – about the Hokage’s visit and the Tsuchikage’s proposal, about how much she doesn’t want to marry a stranger and how she hates the circumstances forcing her to do so, about how unfair it is that most of her friends will have to miss the wedding and that she won’t even get to wear the dress of her dreams. Choji listens closely and doesn’t interrupt while he lightly strokes her back. Ino is so grateful – once she leaves this garden, she will have to be strong again and do what must be done, but here she is free to be selfish and scared.

When tears finally stop, Choji pours Ino some tea. She’s too exhausted to talk and simply slumps down in her seat, holding the warm cup firmly in her hands. The sun is setting slowly over Konoha and, suddenly, she realizes that a day has passed, and she hasn’t done any preparations for the wedding. Yet, somehow, she cannot find it in her heart to care.

“So you haven’t even seen a picture of your betrothed?” Choji asks, breaking the silence.

“No,” Ino sniffles, then smiles despite herself, “He better not be old and ugly though, else Rokudaime-sama might just have a war with Iwa on his hands.”

Choji chuckles at her words.

“That’s the spirit,” he tells her, “If he isn’t to your liking, just have them send him back to Iwa and get you a better one.”

Ino bursts out laughing – the sudden movement makes the cup in her hands shake, spilling the tea all over her legs and the table. Luckily for her, it had time to cool down a little.

“Did you burn yourself?” Choji asks, concerned, then adds, as Ino shakes her head, “You should go take care of this. I’ll clean up the table.”

Ino nods then heads inside. They have grown up together, and Ino knows Choji’s home so well that she can find her way with her eyes closed. As she enters the restroom and glances into the mirror, a bitter smile blooms upon her lips – her eyes look red and puffy from all the tears and rubbing. With a sigh, she walks over to the sink and splashes her face with cold water. She does it again and again until her face looks somewhat passable. After that, she washes the spilled tea off her legs. Despite the impact crying had on her appearance, Ino feels significantly better, as though the heavy weight of a secret has been lifted off her chest.

Ino walks back into the garden, intending to thank Choji for his help, but the words die on her lips. Standing next to Choji, is Shikamaru. It’s clear that he’s just returned from his mission – he looks exhausted, and there are dirt splatters on his clothes.

“Shika!” Ino exclaims, rushing to him and pulling him into a tight hug, “I’m so happy you’re back.”

Normally, his dirty clothes would bother her, but at the moment, she’s just so happy to see him. He’s come back, she thinks, holding Shikamaru close, He will be at the wedding.

“What’s with this reaction?” Shikamaru grumbles but wraps his arms around Ino in response, “What did I miss?”

Ino can feel Choji’s look on her but stays quiet, reveling in the final moment of normalcy.

“I’m getting married,” she says, finally pulling away from him.

It takes Shikamaru a moment to process her words.

“What?” he frowns, looing between Ino and Choji.

Ino takes a deep breath, trying to get her thoughts in order.

“Rokudaime-sama has come to see my father and I today to tell us that the Tsuchikage is willing to make peace with Konoha on the condition of a political marriage between the two villages. The Tsuchikage’s offered his ward for the union and picked me as a bride,” Ino says, as flatly as she can manage, “Given the current situation, there was only one choice.”

Shikamaru looks at her without saying anything for a long moment.

“So you’ve accepted then?” he asks, and Ino’s certain she imagines the break she hears in his voice.

“Yes,” she nods, then quickly adds, “And I’m so happy you are back from the mission – I was so worried that you’d miss my wedding. Without you and Choji by my side, I don’t think I could do it.”

There is an unfamiliar look in Shikamaru’s eyes – one that sends shivers down Ino’s spine. She glances to Choji for support, but his eyes are trained on Shikamaru, and the sympathetic look on his face confuses Ino. Still, she decides to not dwell upon it.

“Why?” Shikamaru finally says.

A sad smile blooms upon Ino’s lips.

“Shika,” she starts softly, “You’ve always been the smartest of us all. Surely, you must understand. While this marriage doesn’t guarantee that Iwa will honor the agreement, if there is even a small chance that this union prevents more needless deaths, I think it’s worth it. I couldn’t live with myself if I could stop my precious friends from getting hurt but didn’t.”

“When is the wedding?” Shikamaru asks.

“In three days.”

It seems as though something shifts in Shikamaru’s features as the color drains from his face, making Ino wonder if her words have caused such a reaction or if it’s simply a play of the dying light and her imagination. She has no energy to argue anymore, so she tells her teammates the same thing she’s told Sakura.

“This is my decision, you don’t have to like it, but you need to accept it,” she says, glancing between Shikamaru and Choji, “You are my closest friends, and your support is very important to me – so you better make sure that you come to the wedding!”

Ino smiles brightly like she usually does when ordering Shikamaru and Choji around, and while Choji smiles in response, Shikamaru’s face remains serious.

“Of course, we’ll be there,” Choji tells her, then adds dreamily. “Weddings always have the best food. Wouldn’t miss it for the world, right, Shikamaru?”

Shikamaru doesn’t respond, and as silence stretches, Ino’s heart pounds in her chest, and there’s a lump in her throat. <em> What’s come over him? Was he so angry by the surprise announcement that he will miss her wedding?</em>

“Yeah,” Shikamaru says finally, not looking Ino in the eyes, “Of course we’ll be there. Though weddings can be such a drag.”

With that, he gets up from his seat.

“Where are you going?” Ino asks, confused. She was hoping that the three of them could spend the evening together – for the last time while everything is still normal, while she’s still not married to a stranger from Iwa.

“I need to report to the Hokage’s office regarding the mission,” Shikamaru responds, “He’s told me to come to him once I’m back in the village. I stopped by to return the scrolls Choji lent me but didn’t expect this…diversion, so now I’m late. If I come by any later, Shizune will complain, which will be such a grad. Anyways, see you.”

With that, Shikamaru leaps up on the roof and disappears. Ino stares at the spot where he was just standing, slightly shaken by his sudden departure. Choji instantly notices her reaction.

“Ino,” he says, trying to get her attention, “By the way, my mother absolutely loves the flowers she’s got from your store a few months back. They’ve grown all over the garden’s wall – would you like to see?”

“Sure,” Ino mutters as she follows Choji deeper into the garden.

She knows he’s trying to distract her from her thoughts and appreciates the effort, even though one question doesn’t leave her mind - what’s going on with Shikamaru?

#ino #ino yamanaka #inodei #deiino #deidara

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teaspacebar · 4 years

Text

war of hearts part i: comfort, trust, and realization

summary: you work with the clone commander and your relationship grows. you bake some goods and the boys of the 212th eat all of them. trust builds. cody has a big fucking realization.

words: 1.9k

a/n: i adore these sweet babies with my entire soul and i would die for them. i hope you all enjoy. based off of this and this.

Cody’s first real interaction with you occurred before a set of relief missions. It was business as usual - General Kenobi entrusted him and part of the 212th to drop off supplies at different Republic settlements. There were a few planets on the list that they had to stop by, and Cody was certain it wouldn’t take longer than a few weeks.

The surprise was you - showing up in your usual Jedi garb, a timid expression on your face.

“Commander Cody,” you approached him, giving a little wave with your hand. No matter how many times he’s seen you in combat, you always looked so…soft, off of the battlefield. He wouldn’t think you were a Jedi except for the lightsaber on your hip.

“I was not aware you were joining us, sir.”

“I was told at the last possible moment that I would be joining you.” He saw your hands clench on either side of you, “I’m sorry if it took you by surprise. If it’s an issue I can tell Master Kenobi–”

Cody could see your nerves flare up, so he cut you off with a small shake of his head, “It’s not a problem, sir.”

A yell of his name came from the gunship, causing you to startle. It was Reed, saying that they had the supplies packed up and ready to go. Taking a glance at you from his peripheral, he sighed. These missions were going to be long.

The first time Cody felt fully comfortable with you was not long after the relief missions had finished. You had all returned back to Coruscant, the boys heading for the barracks. The clone commander watched as you jumped off the transport right as it landed, running off to speak with General Kenobi. The missions had gone fairly well, but you had seemed on edge the whole time. Cody knew it wasn’t because you felt uneasy about the troops – you had shown how much compassion you had for his brothers many times before. In fact, Reed and Cale had stuck by your side for most of the trip, pulling laughter from you whenever they noticed you were drawing into yourself. Cody thought about discussing it with the General – Obi-Wan was always more than willing to talk strategy with him. But this was different.

Him and the rest of the boys were seated in the Caf, chatting animatedly. Suddenly, Cale’s hand shot up and he waved, yelling, “Cee-o!” Cody looked over his shoulder, blinking a few times as his brain caught up with him.

You stood at the entrance of the Caf – Jedi robes absent – with a pack on your shoulder. That sheepish smile that Cody was growing familiar with was present as you approached their table. Other troopers around them were murmuring to each other, not used to a Jedi being in the personal barracks.

You set the pack onto the edge of the table, where Cale had made space for you as he shoved his brothers down the bench. Reed grinned, leaning forward, “You bring us gifts?”

“Now, I know that the GAR says you can’t have any belongings and whatnot,” you shook your head as if the statement wounded you, “but they didn’t say anything about things that you can eat.” The group around you cheered as you pulled different baked goods out of the pack. “I only made enough for you guys, but I can make more another time.”

“You made these?” Reed questioned through a mouthful of pastry.

Cody felt his chest tighten when you failed at covering your laughter. Reed and Cale both insisted you sit down and eat with them, and you obliged, sitting directly across from him. You delicately ate the sweet roll in your hands. The clone commander had to shake himself out of his stupor when you said his name.

You held out your roll to him, “Want the rest of mine? I only meant to stop by for a moment – Master Kenobi is expecting me.” He nodded, taking it from you, fingertips grazing your own. You froze for a moment, eyes widening. Before he could ask what was wrong, an expression of composure fell on your face. You stared into his eyes and a thought struck him – this was the first time you had made direct eye contact with him. The first time you had seen him without his helmet.

Cody managed to get the words out seamlessly, “Thank you.” The ‘Commander’ was unspoken, because it didn’t feel like it needed to be there. You, here and surrounding yourself in his world – one that most would think was meaningless – aided in the feeling of comfort that settled in his chest.

“I’ll see you boys later,” you called out to the rest of the table, pulling the pack back over your shoulder. The ponytail you wore swung as you left, the bounce in your step drastically different from your stride just a few days ago.

“Hey Cody, where can I get a Jedi like yours?!” Fives - from the 501st - called across the Caf.

“Get your own, Fives!” Cale threw one of the remaining pastries at the ARC trooper, guffaws coming from the troopers around them.

With comfort, followed trust.

Yes, it was ingrained in clones that they needed to trust their superiors. Cody trusted his brothers. He trusted General Kenobi. Hell, he even trusted General Skywalker, but the trust between you and him built slowly, like a single flame growing into a roaring fire that could burn a whole forest down.

Which was what you were dealing with right now.

Flames licked at your heels as you ran through the small settlement. You cursed through your teeth, bounding over a fallen tree that was still on fire.

“Commander!” You turned your head but continued on as Cody ran up beside you. “The evac is here, we need to go now!”

“There are still people trapped, I can sense them!” You ducked through a building that was on its last legs, feeling fear creep through you - fear that was not your own.

Cody followed you through, grabbing your arm before you ran off again. “Commander–”

“I am not leaving them to die, Cody.” The determination in your gaze caused his heart to lurch. “Get the rest of the men to the evac, I’ll be there with whoever else I can find. Trust me, Cody, please.”

“I need you to trust me, too.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think. You brought that out of him, recently. It came with the territory of the companionship you two had. “This town is going down and I will be damned if I lose my Commander with it.” His gaze bore into your own, and he saw the flames reflected in your eyes. You didn’t have much time. He turned on his comms, “Cale, come in.”

“Sir!”

“Keep the evac on the ground for as long as you can, the Commander and I will be there shortly.” A pause. “Expect civvies.” You didn’t catch the rest of Cale’s words as your sprung from your position, following the emotions you sensed.

Within minutes, you had found two children huddled underneath some rubble, soot covering their clothes and faces. You used the Force to lift the part of the building that was keeping you from getting inside, and Cody got them out.

You made it to the evac point just in time. Cody watched the empty, burning town as the doors closed on the transport. He checked in on his squadron, attention falling on the Jedi who knelt before the children you had rescued. You were wiping some of the soot from their faces with your robe, a gentle, comforting smile on your face. You said something to make the children giggle – even in the face of complete destruction, you were able to make children laugh. He caught your gaze when you stood up, and you mouthed a ‘thank you’. Smile pulling at the corner of his lips, he made his way to the front of the transport.

You visited the barracks later that evening.

Cody had his own personal room – there were some perks of being Commander – but he tended to hang around his squadron’s space. Which is where he found you, as well.

He walked into the room to see you hanging upside down on one of the beds. Most of the troopers were sitting on their own beds or the floor, eating what must have been more baked goods you delivered. When he entered, a smile lit up your face and you flipped yourself over, landing gracefully on the floor.

“Meeting go alright?” After both of you had reported back to Obi-Wan, you had another meeting with the Jedi Council.

Reed cackled, “Don’t ask her that, boss – I think she’s had enough Council talk for the day.”

You swatted Reed’s arm, nicking a pastry from his hands and popping it in your mouth. Cody chuckled when Reed protested, bristling with pride when the grin on your face grew.

“It was alright,” you said once your mouth was no longer full.

“Except you said that General Windu was being a di’kut.”

Silence.

And then Cody started laughing.

“Cale!” The troopers name was shrieked, and you covered your face in embarrassment. Cody quickly sobered, sending his squadron a look.

“Ah,” Boil cleared his throat, “let’s head to Caf, boys.” Grumbles were exchanged and you murmured soft goodbyes to them as they left. Your face was downcast, wishing that your hair wasn’t in its signature ponytail so you could hide behind it.

Cody wondered how you could be so open one minute, and so shy, the next. Most Jedi he knew were anything but shy. Reserved, sometimes, but never shy.

“I asked them to teach me some words in Mando’a,” you explained, form relaxing when it was just the two of you.

“And General Windu was being a di’kut?” The amusement was clear in his tone.

“He basically said that saving the children was pointless,” you huffed, adjusting the belt around your waist. You were without your robes again – something you always seemed to do when visiting the barracks. It was like you were making yourself their equal.

Cody sighed, “It wasn’t part of the plan, so I could see why he would react that way.” You scrunched your nose at the notion. He agreed wholeheartedly with your choice, though. And nobody else got hurt. He’d been used to crazier plans, anyways. You were doing the right thing, saving those kids.

You looked over at him, eyes narrowing for a moment before your expression softened. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Your emotions are so in control sometimes that it’s…worrying. And then other times I get this rush of concentrated feeling. Most…people aren’t like that.” Clones, he knew you were going to say clones.

He shrugged, “It’s not really talked about.”

You hummed, walking over and putting a hand on his arm. He was in his blacks, so he could feel the warmth of your touch. You gave him an earnest smile, “We should probably meet up with the others.” Cody recognized the change in subject; he could feel the switch back to professionalism snap back into place.

As he followed you out of the room, the commander realized – he didn’t want professionalism. He wanted you.

#war of hearts #commander cody x reader #padawan!reader #swtcw #star wars the clone wars #commander cody

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hailing-stars · 5 years

Text

for peter, for @frostysunflowers

summary

“What can I get for you two fellas?” asked the waitress, still grinning, still wildly amused by the way Tony bullied the manager on shift into letting Buddy come inside the diner and eat at a table.

“I’ll take a cheeseburger,” Tony told the waitress, “And he’ll have the same.”

Buddy barked three times.

“Scratch that, three cheeseburgers and a bowl of water for my friend,” said Tony, catching the eyes of a group of men that sat at a table across restaurant. “What are you all staring at? It’s a dog, alright? What? Never seen a guy having burgers with his dog before?”

Tony recovers from losing Peter to the snap by hanging out with a stray dog he found in the Parker’s apartment.

An AU where instead of being dusted Peter turns into a dog and lives that five year gap with the Starks at their lake cabin.

Irondad Bingo: Fluff

1/4

Read on AO3 or after the undercut

The door to Peter and May’s apartment was cracked at an odd angle, unnatural and eerie and evidence, somehow, that the world just as crooked as the bolts on the Parker’s door. They were unhinged, and well Tony was unhinged, too, like the lady he passed by in stairwell, who was wailing and screaming for someone Tony assumed was now only dust.

He paused at the end of the hallway, still listening to her faint howling, and stared at the door. He took a breath, released, and walked forward, towards a sight he was certain would break him.

Tony didn’t understand why he was doing this to himself.

He couldn’t even remember why he’d gotten into his car and made the drive into the city, or why his heart worked against logic, that he, of all people, had hoped that somehow the Parker’s apartment might have remained untouched from the devastation that had ransacked the rest of Queens, or all of New York, really.

Everything, everywhere. The whole universe. It was all broken and grey with grief, and Tony felt confident it was the way it was always going to be. The sun wouldn’t sun. There wasn’t any trace of hope left in the atmosphere to be kindled or sparked.

The ache in his soul would keep on aching, with nothing to sooth or comfort.

Pepper helped, sure. She was alive and breathing and real, and he could sit with her all day at their cabin and pretend like the universe wasn’t collapsing around them both. He could get lost in being with her, in her smile and her wit, but he could never get so lost as to forget that he’d never hear Peter Parker laugh again.

He’d never get to make good on that promise to watch every Star Wars movie with him. He’d never get to eat cheeseburgers with him past midnight, at their favorite twenty-four burger joint, after late night missions and patrols. He’d never get to pretend to be annoyed at his fast talking or his bad puns and jokes, or at the way he never stopped making noise.

The baby growing inside Pepper couldn’t replace all that, couldn’t replace intern he’d lost and there was no guarantee that the new baby wouldn’t crumble to ash in his hands, the way Pete had.

Tony pushed the thought away and took the door all the way off the hinges, set it aside, then stepped into the Parker’s apartment, though it was clear it wasn’t their apartment anymore.

It was only ruins of what once was.

Stripped of anything valuable, with heaps of empty candy wrappers, beer cans and chip bags littering the floor and spray paint marking up the walls. The couch Tony had sat on and pretended to like May’s date loaf was flipped over, sitting diagonal in the middle of the living room.

Um, w-what, what are you doing here… uh, hey, I’m, I’m Peter

Tony

He sucked in a breath and kicked at a pile of trash, before moving on, down the hallway and towards Peter’s bedroom. The door was propped open, and as Tony entered, he was greeted with a low growl.

It lasted a half second before the growling stopped, and a dog, a filthy, covered in dirt, dog charged at him. Tony was going to die. He was completely sold on that. He’d survived Afghanistan and the wormhole and space, only to die at the paws of a stray mutt.

He jumped up on him. Dirty paws on his cat t-shirt. He licked him, wagged his tail happily, and barked.

“Hey, hey,” said Tony, moving backwards and pushing the dog away. “We just met, alright? Give it some time.”

The dog sat in front of him and looked up with big, brown eyes, pleading, begging eyes, that had soul and spirit behind them. They were hauntingly familiar, and the memories came unbidden.

Please, Mr. Stark. May won’t let me keep him, and it’s totally unfair. I could hide him from the apartment management, you know.

Sorry, buddy, I don’t have time to take care of a dog.

Tony crouched down, hesitantly reached his hand out, stroking the dog’s fur. “So, you’re Peter’s stray, huh?”

The golden retriever titled his head at him, listening, then barked once, and turned. He trotted off to the corner of Peter’s room, where two cardboard boxes sat. He dug his nose around in one, scooped something up in his mouth, then brought it back to Tony, dropping it on the floor and nudging it at his feet.

Tony picked it up and shattered his heart. Just one cheap frame with a picture inside was all it took to make Tony stumble over, butt on the floor, back against the wall. He swallowed and stared at the picture, looking at a happier version of himself, with Pete by his side. They were holding a certificate upside down and giving each other bunny ears.

They had laughed a lot that day. The echoes rattled around in Tony’s head.

The dog barked and Tony looked up. “You’re… you’re waiting for Peter to come back.”

He stared intently back at Tony, with eyes that convinced him that he somehow understood what he was telling him.

“I don’t really know about to tell you this, buddy,” said Tony, taking a shaky breath. “But Pete’s gone. I lost him, and he won’t be - He isn’t coming back.”

Tony sniffed and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, while the dog made a noise that was somewhere between a whine and groan.

“I know, I – I’m gonna miss him, too.” He reached out again, giving the dog another good pet, and watched his eyes. There was warmth behind him, warmth that reminded Tony just how compassionate and caring Peter had been.

The dog whined as Tony lifted his hand and wiped his eyes again with his sleeve. He straightened out and stood up, looking around the ravaged bedroom and gripping the picture frame. It’d been pointless. Thinking he could save any of Peter’s stuff or somehow get transported back to the past.

It was clear why he really came there, now. To say goodbye.

Even still, the two boxes in the corner of the room looked savable. Tony put the picture frame back inside the first box, stacked them on top of each other and picked them up. He walked towards the door but stopped before stepping out in the hallway. He turned, and the filthy golden retriever was still staring up at him, expectant, waiting for someone who’d never come back.

“Wanna come home with me?” asked Tony. “Look, I’m not Peter, I’m nowhere near as good and kind, hell I don’t even really like dogs, but… I have a house with a big yard and plenty of squirrels and rats to chase and… if you’re lucky, I might even feed you.”

The retriever barked and followed Tony as he left Peter’s room, and eventually the apartment building. It only figured, and brought the briefest smile to his face, that Peter had won the dog argument. Tony ended up with the stray after all, and even in death, Peter was getting his way.

Pepper had been waiting for him on the front porch, with a book in her lap, and an unreadable expression on her face, as Tony watched her watch him park the car, get out, and open the back door, releasing the hound.

He jumped out and put his nose straight into the grass and dirt. He sniffed around, before yelping out a few happy barks.

“Who is this?” asked Pepper. She shut her book, put it down on the chair next to her, and stepped on the porch. Her eyes moved back and forth between the dog and Tony, until Tony turned, distracted himself from Pepper’s question by fishing Peter’s boxes from the car.

“Tony,” said Pepper. “Why do you have a dog?”

He turned back around, with two boxes gripped in his hand, and shut the car door with his foot.

“Tony,” she said, louder. She beckoned at the dog. “Who is this?”

“He’s my new best friend,” said Tony. “You’ll have to break the news to Rhodes and Hap that they’ve been replaced, I don’t think my heart could take seeing their faces when they find out.”

Pepper stared at Tony, while the retriever stopped sniffing the dirt and sat directly in front of her, looking up, giving her actual, literal puppy dog eyes. She didn’t look down. Refused to acknowledge him. If she did, Tony knew that, just like he had, she’d cave within seconds.

“Just look at him, Pep. Isn’t he adorable, uh, under all that dirt?”

“We can’t adopt a dog.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Pepper. “Maybe because we’re about to have a newborn.”

“I know that.”

“Do you know that, Tony? Because I’m starting to wonder… I know, I know things have been a nightmare, since the snap, it’s been hell, but I thought we at least had each other… but sometimes, it’s like you’re not even here. Like you never came back from space.”

“I’m right here,” said Tony, though even to his own ears, he sounded far away. “And I’m really excited for the baby. I’m pumped.”

“Oh, you’re pumped?” asked Pepper, with a raised eyebrow. Tony gave her a nod. “Then why haven’t you painted the nursery?”

“I’m gonna paint it. I’m gonna do it tomorrow.”

“That’s what you said yesterday.”

“This time I’m serious,” said Tony. He swallowed and shifted his eyes back to his dog. He still sat at attention, waiting for Pepper to notice him, the same way he’d been waiting for Peter to come back home. “Look, Pep, he’s Peter’s stray. I couldn’t just – I couldn’t just leave him there by himself.”

Pepper released a breath, her body relaxed, her eyes went softer, as she finally looked down to give the dog attention. “Does he at least have a name? Besides Peter’s stray?”

“Buddy,” said Tony. The name rolled off his tongue without any thought. It didn’t require any. Buddy was his name, and Tony, somehow, just knew.

“Buddy,” repeated Pepper, crouching down, and patting him on the head. She massaged his ears. “Welcome to our mess.” She straightened out and leveled her stare back at Tony. “He gets a bath before he comes in the house or you’re both sleeping in the shed.”

She snatched the boxes out from Tony’s hands, turned, and walked back inside, the outer door swinging shut behind her.

“Better get used to that, boy, she’s your overlord now, too.”

Buddy barked and followed Tony as he walked around to the side of the cabin, searching for the hose.

The sun beat down bright and hot as Tony dragged a metal bin he found, that he could only assume belong to the cabin’s previous owners, from the garage to yard and stuck the hose inside, letting it fill with water while Buddy watched with mournful eyes.

“Okay, we’re good,” said Tony, when the tin was half full. He took the hose out and held it out away from his shoes, so he wouldn’t get them wet. “Well go on. Get in.”

Buddy didn’t move.

Tony stuck his hand in and flicked water at him. “It’s not that cold. It’s just like swimming.”

Buddy laid down on his belly, stretched his front legs and paws out in front of him, and whined.

“Don’t be a drama queen about it, alright? We gotta get all that dirt off you,” said Tony. He hoped just plain water would do the trick. He didn’t have any dog shampoo, and he knew, thanks to one of Peter’s rambles, that he shouldn’t use human shampoo on dogs.

Grief hit him like an icicle through his heart. He’d never get listen to Peter rattle off rambles while he was trying to work.

Buddy barked, loud and abrupt, breaking Tony out of his stupor. He was suddenly up on all four of his legs, charging at Tony. He bit down on the hose, tried to wrestle it away, and in the process, sprayed Tony first in the face, then the chest, and then finally, his shoes.

“Hey! You little shit!”

Buddy released the hose, and Tony fall backwards, landing with a thud on the ground, his hair dripping wet, the hose spilling water out on the ground.

“Really, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

Buddy titled his head, then raced off towards the lake, where he jumped in the water with no hesitation and happily swam around.

This dog was worse than a teenager.

He released an annoyed, slow sigh, before standing up and switching off the hose. By the time Buddy was done with his afternoon swim in the lake, Tony had a towel waiting. Predictably, Buddy had another method of getting dry. He shook the water from his fur, right in front of Tony and his towel, and had the audacity to look smug about it.

“Now you smell like lake water,” Tony complained, as he kneeled on one knee and ruffled the towel through Buddy’s fur. He wagged his tail, nipping and licking at Tony’s face while he attempted to help him get dry. “Uh-uh, no way, don’t even try making it up to me now.”

Buddy stared at him, with wide brown eyes. Tony melted.

“You’re just lucky you’re Pete’s stray or else I’d take you straight to the pound.”

Tony tried to ignore it.

He squeezed his eyes shut and clung onto to sleep, trying to block out the loud, repetitive and persistent barking. He groaned, and shifted under his covers, and burrowed his head under his pillow, holding the sides against his ears. It didn’t help, did not do a thing to block out the noise, but Tony wanted to pretend.

He thought Buddy would tire out and let him sleep.

Tony had no reason to think this, other than being overly optimistic, or maybe, more likely, in denial. He’d suffered through three mornings with Buddy. All three of those went the same way. The dog was an alarm clock without a snooze button. A needy, attention hungry pile of golden fluff that refused to let Tony sleep past ten.

In the past, anxiety and nightmares would not let him rest, and now, that grief and depression sapped his energy dry, it was Buddy who would not let him sleep stay sleeping.

Life, he supposed, was unfair that way.

Tony lifted his head from under the pillow and opened his eyes.

Buddy stared back at him, looking serious and intent. He barked.

“Go away.”

Buddy stuck his head up into the air and howled.

“Alright, alright, Jesus, mom,” said Tony, raising up, out from under the covers. “I’m up.”

The golden retriever ran out of the bedroom once he saw Tony put his feet on the floor, his claws scrapping against the wood as he went, just another example of how damn noisy that animal was.

If he wasn’t barking, he was howling. If he wasn’t howling, his tail was thudding against the floor or the wall, in a rhythm only Buddy understood, reminding Tony of the way Peter used to tap his pencil against his notebook when he concentrated.

Tony slipped on pajamas pants and headed down to the kitchen, before Buddy got impatient and started howling again. When he passed by the room Pepper designated as the nursey, he stuck his head in and looked at the paint and brushes she had laid out in the center of the room.

They were unused, and the walls were still off-white.

He shook his head and continued downstairs, on to his morning routine, which consisted only of eating pop-tarts and watching TV with his dog. He plopped down on the couch, ripped the tin foil off the first packet and laid it down for Buddy, then opened his and took a bite.

“Breakfast of champions,” said Tony. Buddy was too busy eating and licking up crumbs off the couch to bark his usual agreement. “That’s right. Good boy. Get rid of the all evidence.”

Pepper didn’t like him feeding Buddy human food, but Tony couldn’t help it. Buddy didn’t seem to like the dog food very much and Tony couldn’t blame him. The stuff looked and smelled disgusting.

Tony mindlessly flipped through the channels as he ate, with an actual, physical remote, since he hadn’t bothered with installing FRIDAY into the cabin yet. He stopped when Buddy started barking and landed on a channel that displayed two cloaked figures fighting each other with laser swords.

“This?” asked Tony. Buddy barked, his head looking back and forth from Tony to the TV. “You watched this with Pete, huh? At least one of us made time for him.”

Tony put his thumb back on the button, about to push down, and keep channel surfing, when Buddy stopped him with a low, menacing growl.

“Okay, okay fine. We can watch this,” said Tony, but Buddy didn’t take his eyes off him until he put the remote down on the coffee table.

He barked, jumped off the couch and trotted out of the room, only to return seconds later with a teddy bear in his mouth. On his first night in the Stark cabin, he’d dug it out from one Peter’s boxes, and slept with it every night since. Familiar smells, Tony guessed, comforted him.

He jumped back up to sit next to Tony, eventually laying down, stretching his legs and his paws across Tony’s lap, then using his leg as a pillow, with that old ratty teddy bear still nestled in his mouth.

Tony let it happen, cuddled him, even, massaged his head and played with his ears as they both watched space wizards fight each other, movie after movie. They spent the entire day watching Star Wars, only stopping for bathroom breaks and that time between movies when Buddy sat in front of the fridge and howled until Tony made them both something to eat.

Tony woke up the next morning on his own, without any barking. His mind and his body automatically jolted him from his sleep before ten, proving to Tony that he wasn’t just being dramatic, the world really was off its hinges and as a result, everything was crooked.

He was supposed to be training the dog, but instead, the dog was training him.

When he opened his eyes, Buddy came into focus first. He was staring at him, with a paintbrush gripped between his teeth. His woof was muffled by the object he held.

Tony blinked.

“Not today, Buddy.”

He made a sound of disapproval and ran out of the room, only to return seconds later with his leash in his mouth, instead. Tony let out a breath. He didn’t have the heart to tell Buddy no twice in the span of a minute, so he forced himself out of bed, then forced himself to get dressed.

He didn’t regret it.

It turned out to be a perfect day to be walking around in the park, or rather, Buddy had taken a regular day and turned it into the perfect day. Tony watched him chasing and barking at ducks, smelling every new smell, letting random children pet him and pull on his ears. He was living it up, having the best time, and it was hard for Tony to remember he was miserable and sad watching Buddy attempt to play with stray cat, who hissed and swatted at him.

A little girl holding hands with her mother walked by as Buddy retreated from the cat with a whine, nursing a scratch on his nose.

“Cute dog,” said the girl. “Can I pet him?”

“You know, he’d really like that,” said Tony, watching the girl smile and reach her hand out. “He never says no to extra attention.”

She laughed, pet Buddy, who wagged his tail and sniffed her, then the girl and the mother continued on their way, saying thanks as they waved goodbye. Just for a few flickering seconds, Tony pictured Pepper and their child, here at this park, with him and Buddy, and for the first time, in a long time, he looked forward to the future.

Quiet moments were rare after Buddy joined the family, but when things got still and the noise in Tony’s head got loud, he would sit on the back porch with Buddy and watch the lake. That night, the breeze was gentle, and the moon was high. It’s light reflected in the water below.

Nature was peaceful and calm, and yet, all Tony could hear was Peter Parker and the words he said right before he died.

I don’t wanna go

That moment, those words, they replayed over and over. They stabbed at his heart and made him wish more than anything that it’d been him instead of Peter. That kid, he just really loved being alive, and the more Tony remembered him, the more that was evident, by his laugh and his smile and the way he threw himself into everything he did.

Thanos had wanted balance, but this balance wasn’t fair.

Buddy stared up at him from his resting place on the porch, next to his feet, and Tony refused to look down, into those eyes. It was too damn hard. Buddy, though, never liked to be ignored. He only tolerated it for a few minutes before he sat up and nudged Tony’s knee with his nose.

Tony forced a laugh, and gave in, just like he always did.

“I bet Peter loved you,” said Tony, giving him a good pet. “Spoiled you, probably, with the way you behave. I guess I should’ve listened to him more and took you in when he asked me. Let him have a dog while he was still here. Truth be told, bud, there’s probably a lot of things I should’ve done.”

Buddy titled his head at him, something Tony learned to associate with listening. Really, he was starting to believe he was losing his mind. He was starting to believe Buddy the golden retriever understood everything he said. Empathized with him. That the two of them were grieving Peter together, and they both understood the paralyzing silence he’d left behind.

“I should’ve-“ started Tony. He stopped. Closed his mouth, then opened it again, forcing the words out. He had to get it out. “He… he was my son, and I never told him how much he meant to me.”

Buddy laid his head down on Tony’s knee, and let out a sad, pitiful whine.

The admission was a heavy, heavy sorrow, that somehow got lighter after he spoke it out loud. Before he denied it for fear he’d be a repeat of Howard, and then, after the snap, he’d been denying it because it just hurt too much to admit he was a grieving father.

Speaking the words out loud opened up something in him that took him by surprised.

Tony needed to feel close to Peter again, even if he knew it would hurt.

“You like cheeseburgers, boy?”

Buddy perked up with a bark and wagged his tail furiously.

“Of course you do, let’s get out of here.”

Plastic crinkled under Tony as he shifted his position in the booth. Buddy sat across the table from him, in his own booth seat, and they were silent while they waited for the waitress to come around and take their order. They were just man and dog, waiting for their cheeseburgers come and their grief to end.

Tony knew he’d be waiting forever.

He wouldn’t ever get over losing Peter Parker, but he could celebrate his life, by doing all the things Peter loved doing. He could still go out to diners after midnight and have cheeseburgers and remember the way Peter couldn’t ever eat without making a mess.

Tony hadn’t driven to their exact favorite burger joint, the one in Queens they had eaten at together, countless times before, but the one he found had the same vibe, the same checkered floor and greasy smell in the air.

“I’ll take a cheeseburger,” Tony told the waitress, “And he’ll have the same.”

Buddy barked three times.

The men went back to their own business, whispering with raised eyebrows, and the waitress took the menus and walked off towards the kitchen. Their food arrived in under fifteen minutes, and together, Tony and Buddy went to work on their burgers.

It just was the sort of absurdity Peter lived for.

Really, he just lived for anything, no matter how absurd or crazy. Cheeseburgers at midnight, Star Wars marathons, school trips to places the rest of his classmates considered boring, and, the thought hit him sudden and hard, his new baby sibling.

If he’d had the chance to know about baby Stark, he would’ve been excited, would’ve happy for him.

He would’ve bought Spider-Man onesies and Iron Man plushies. He would’ve swung to the tower with late-night pints of ice cream for Pepper.

He would’ve helped Tony paint the nursery.

“For Peter,” said Tony, holding up his burger, the same way a champagne chute would be held during a toast. Buddy gave a quiet, sorrowful howl, then they both finished their meals.

On the drive back to the cabin, Tony cranked the music up and drove with the windows down, allowing Buddy to stick his head out the window. His ears flopped around with the wind, and his tail thudded against the car seat to the rhythm Back in Black as it blasted through the speakers.

“Are they closed?” asked Tony, as he pulled Pepper down the hallway by her hand, with his other hand covering her eyes. “You gotta keep them closed.”

“Yes, Tony, they’re closed, just like they were five second ago.”

Tony took his hand away from her eyes and hooked it with Pepper’s free hand, walking backwards into the nursery and stopping only once they got into the center.

“Alright, you can open them.”

Tony watched Pepper’s eyes open and look around the freshly painted nursery. He’d taken it a step further, and put in the crib, a rocking chair, a changing table, anything and everything they’d need when baby Stark arrived.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it,” said Pepper. “It’s perfect, Tony. Thank you.”

Tony dropped her hands, only to pull her closer, into a hug. “I know I’ve been, uh – “

“Spacey? Distant?”

“Yeah, both those things,” said Tony. “I just want you to know, I’m all in. This is our second chance and we’re gonna make the most of it.”

Pepper let out a breath, and her body relaxed against his, for the first time, in a long time. They held each other in the middle of their new nursery and Tony was happy, grateful, even, that they still had each other, even if there were so many that were lost.

“Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are there paw prints on my wall?”

“Buddy wanted to help,” said Tony, smiling, at the memory of Buddy dipping his paws into the baby blue paint and then jumping up on the wall, splattering it everywhere. He’d gotten another bath after that. A real one. With dog shampoo Tony had ordered off the internet.

“You and the damn dog,” laughed Pepper.

“I can paint over it.”

“Don’t. I like it.”

Tony nodded and let himself get lost in the moment. He had his dog and his wife and a baby on the way. There was sun streaming in through the windows, and there was paw prints on the wall.

He still wasn’t okay, but he believed one day, he could be. For just that moment, Tony allowed himself to consider that it might be enough.

#irondad #fanfic #irondad bingo #Peter parker #Tony stark #tony stark needs a hug #Tony stark has a heart #fluff and angst #Peter is a dog #Peter is a little shit #crack treated seriously

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justkending · 5 years

Text

10 Years Time. Chapter 12.

Series Summary: As princess of Alberia, it is your duty to grow into a rightful young lady if you plan on ruling your family's country. Of course, the only way your father can see this happening is sending you off to a boarding camp at the age of 14 for 10 years to learn what it means to grow into a Queen.That means leaving all your friends and family behind. One specific person, your best friend, you never want to say goodbye to. But 10 years later, you come back grown into a young lady like your father hoped, and find your best friend has grown into a knightly young man. How will you two adjust after 10 years apart? Will things be the same, or will all that’s happened in that span of time affect your relationship?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Stark Daughter Reader

Word Count: 3500+

A/N: So this one is kinda wordy and well... Deep. So please let me know what you think! I want to make sure my reasoning and words came out right for what’s happening!!

Chapter 12:

Steve’s side after saying goodnight to Y/N: Flashback

After Steve had climbed down the vine from Y/N’s roof, he moved to see her window shut and saw as her figure disappeared from view.

She loved him? She really loved him like he had loved her all this time? He could do a happy dance right there! But…

“Steve!” A voice shouted breaking him out of his very brief happy thoughts. “Steve, Tony is searching everywhere for you right now. Man, this isn’t looking good.” Bucky said running up to his friend.

“Never saw it looking good in the end. I knew things would blow up like this.” Steve sighed running a hand over the back of his neck.

“It needed to be done. You know it did, we all did. What Stark made you do all those years ago… Y/N deserved to know.” Bucky defended.

“Yeah, but look where that got us. Y/N and her father are at war with each other, and I’m the reason for it.”

“Hey. Don’t put this on you. If Tony hadn’t made you pick her over your life all those years ago, none of this would have happened.” Bucky said patting the blondes shoulder.

“Yes, but if neither of us fell for each other, than nothing like this would be happening.”

“Are you really trying to say that having feelings and emotions for each other is the reason for this?” Bucky laughed. “Punk. You can’t help those kinda things. You’re life would be miserable if you tried to hide from love your whole time living. Wouldn’t be much living if you ask me.” he scoffed.

Steve looked up at the window once again knowing that Y/N was hopefully tucked in for the night. God, how he wanted to stay up there with her and comfort the beauty all night. Her brain had to be working 100 mph to try and take in everything of the night.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right. I can’t be upset about that.” he said with a fond smile thinking of her. “Still, doesn't make me feel any better of what's to come.”

“About that. I think if you give Tony another 30 minutes or so to cool off, he may not give you too cruel punishment.” Bucky tried to reason.

“Buck. I just confessed my undying love for his daughter who happens to be the future queen of the kingdom. Right after he told her that she was to be wed to some stranger like she has been shaped to do her whole life. All I did was further complicate things he was already worried about with the free-spirited and stubborn daughter he has.” Steve said stone faced. “I don’t think an easy punishment is on the table for me.”

“Ok, maybe not, but-”

“No more excuses James.” Steve said with a sad smile and pat to his friends back. “Time to face the consequences.” he began walking to the throne room and Bucky quickly ran after him.

“Steve, you can’t-”

“I’m not going to run Buck. I did that last time and look what it did. I’ll be ok. I can handle myself.” he said again with a sad smile as he looked forward.

“Steve, what if he-”

Steve stopped and turned to his terrified friend.

“If the worst case scenario does happen. If he ships me off and bans me from ever coming back, or worse… I need you to take care of her. Please. Just promise me that.”

“You’ll be here to do that. I won’t let him send you away Steve.”

“You don’t have control of that. You have to promise me you will protect her just as much as I would.” Steve said more stern and turning into the Captain he was.

Bucky wanted to fight him, but he knew Steve was right. They needed to think worst case scenario given the events unfolding tonight.

“Ok. Yes. Always. I’ll always take care of her Steve. You know that.”

“Ok. You make sure that Clint, Sam, and everyone else does too. If anything happened to her-”

“I know. I won’t let it though. Not on my watch nor anyone else's. Everyone cares too deeply for her to watch anything bad happen.”

“I know.” He let out a sigh looking back down at her room. “She’s going to change so many things Buck. This place will be a better place with her in it. That woman is something else.” he said with such pride, but also such sorrow.

“You found quite the girl Cap.”

“Too bad I can’t keep her.” he sighed before walking by himself back to the king.

_____

Two days had gone by since the day Y/N had almost taken off after Steve. She had avoided her father like the plague knowing she wouldn’t be able to hold her tongue. There was so much she wanted to scream at him about, but she knew it would get her nowhere. Not until she was the head ruler of their home.

But as the second day came around, she found Bucky and asked for an update. She had calmed down since the first time she had heard of the news of him being sent off, so when Bucky said a few more days, she didn’t fight him. Did she become more worried? Yes. But Steve knew what he was doing. She had faith in that.

Then a few days carried on into a week. She became more frantic. Concerned that something had gone wrong.

Bucky and Clint reassured her saying that Sam had reached out to them and told them that the mission had become more promising than they thought, and they would be staking it out a little longer.

Y/N hadn’t known that was a lie made up by Bucky and Clint, so she brushed it off again having faith that Steve would be ok.

It continued like this for a month. The princess finding the acting captain and his co-leader when she wasn’t buried by books and avoiding her father. She would ask them for updates, and they would come up with some lie or excuse as to why he wasn’t back yet.

All elaborate enough that she would hold herself back for one more day before jumping on her horse and running to him anyway.

That was until one day she was making her way to the training room to check on the women-warriors, or the A-Force as they named themselves. Just about 10 feet from the door she overheard some soldiers talking about a mission around the corner. One that sounded a little too familiar.

“Yeah, no. I heard that it was supposed to be a month long mission. King Stark had been so furious with Captain Rogers about something, he literally shipped him off on a pointless stake out. From what I heard Captain Barnes talking about, it may be a whole other month before he gets back.”

“Wait, so what was Stark mad at him for? What could he have done so wrong that he would send his best Captain on a wild goose chase?”

“No idea. All I know is the King was in a fit for a few days. He’s been stern and short with everyone since. But if you ask me, I think it has something to do with the princess. They haven’t been in the same room as each other unless for a meeting. Even then, the guards say they’re super cold and distant with each other.”

“Do you think the rumors of Cap and the Princess are true? You know, the one where-”

“They’re hopelessly in love with each other? Wouldn’t doubt it. Have you seen the way the man’s eyes glaze over when she’s anywhere in sight? It’s like all the authority and poise of a Knight melts. I mean still stupidly intimidating, but he softens around her.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve seen it. Man, talk about drama in the castle.”

Y/N’s hand was tightly gripped around the door handle since she was seconds from going into the room. Wanda was about 30 ft back having been stopped by her brother who had been training hard since Y/N had got back making it hard for everyone to see him often. So any chance she saw him for a bit, she took advantage of it.

Nat was in the middle of training the A-force so Y/N was by herself listening to all the truths leak out.

Her hand was gripped so tight on the handle, that when Wanda came and saw, she grew concerned with the white tone it was taking on.

“Uh, Y/N…” she said placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

That snapped Y/N out of her thoughts, and she threw her hand off the door, turning the opposite way back to the castle.

“Y/N! Hold on! What happened?” Wanda shouted running to keep up with her.

She threw the throne room doors open seeing the culprits of her anger all conveniently sitting around a table discussing things. Perfect. No escape for her prey.

“You. All of you.” she said with a certain venom dripping with the words.

Bucky was the first to see her, and by the looks of it, he knew exactly what had happened.

“Y/N. Listen.” he said standing with his hands raised in defense.

“It’s your highness to you.” she said through her teeth. “I only let my real friends call me by my first name.” she said with a snarl before turning to her father. “You really though I wouldn’t find out.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he shrugged.

“Oh, save your fucking lies for someone else. They don’t seem to work on me too well, now have they?” she huffed slamming her hands on the table and staring her father straight in the eyes.

“Y/N Marie-!” he said standing to match her stance and giving her the most stern look he could.

“No, Anthony Stark! I don’t want to hear anymore shit!” she scoffed standing taller and crossing her arms. “You know. I was hoping the next time that I walked through those doors, I would be coming here to have a civil conversation with you to try and calmly discuss all the wrongs that you’ve made, and I could apologize for acting out the way I had, but no! Here I fucking am, screaming because ONCE AGAIN! You lied to me!”

“You need to walk away now and go reset your tone young lady. I don’t know where the hell this mannerism is coming from, but I know damn well this isn’t what they taught you at the academy.” Tony said just as harsh.

“Oh shut up about the academy! That’s all everyone talks about. Academy this. Academy that. You must have learned so much. You came back so much more poised.” she mocked. “You want to know what I really learned, huh? I learned how to hide it better. I learned that there are different approaches to conflict, but I hate to tell you father. This is NOT one of those moments. I am beyond enraged at how you decided to handle this matter. How could you? You lied to me AGAIN!” she shouted hands moving wildly.

“We’ll just-” Clint said as him and Bucky started to sneak away at the door Wanda was up against.

“No, you will not.” Y/N said turning to them. “You two are just as much at fault for hiding this from me.” she pointed fingers. “I thought we were closer than that! What the hell?”

“I told them not to say anything.” Tony spoke up.

She let out an angry laugh. “Let me guess, you threatened them that if they spoke the truth you would banish them?” she said crossing her arms.

“No. They know not to disobey their king unlike some people. And they know not to question his reasonings. You should take a note out of their books.” he said lowly.

“All out of paper.” she sassed. “So tell me. Why did you do it? Why are you fighting me so much? Why are you making everything in my life so much more difficult?” she said stepping closer to him.

“You know why.”

“I want to hear you say it because I’m not sure anymore.”

“Y/N.”

“No please. You want me to understand so bad. Then tell me why!”

“BECAUSE IT’S NOT HOW THINGS WORK! NEVER HAS! NEVER WILL! Rules and laws were placed for a reason! You can’t bend them! You can’t change them because you’re in love! The world is cruel Y/N, and I’m just trying to protect you!” he shouted making everyone shudder at his anger except Y/N who stood her ground.

There was a silence as Y/N stared at her father and he took deep breaths trying to calm his heart. Minutes went by that felt like an eternity for everyone there. Bucky, Clint, and Wanda looking back and forth between the two waiting to see who would speak first.

“How is something supposed to grow if you shelter it?” she said quietly making everyone stare at her. There was no anger in her voice anymore. Just sadness and disappointment. “Mom said that if I wanted to change this world, I would have to fall down sometimes. It’s about growing and learning Tony. Not hiding when things get rough.” She never broke eye contact with Tony and noticed that his face had contorted into sorrow in himself.

She finally looked down and sighed before turning and leaving brushing past the knights and Wanda. All too stunned to move or follow.

“Sir-” Bucky finally spoke up after a while.

“Wanda go follow her. You two are dismissed. I need the rest of the day off.” Tony sighed leaning on the table and pinching his nose as he closed his eyes.

They bowed and shared a look before walking out following his orders.

___

Three more days went by. Y/N had hoarded herself in the library with books, or the garden with books the whole time. Wanda keeping her company majority of the time while Nat trained.

She didn’t talk much. Only to ask for Wanda to hand her things, or say soft hello’s to the staff as they passed and assisted her in anyway.

There was a certain calm but sorrow to her that everyone noticed. She hadn’t raised her voice in anyway. She hadn’t joked around any. She had simply gone about her day in a poised and natural matter. It was weird to those who knew her, but normal looking to those who didn’t. The giggly, outgoing, and talkative Y/N they knew was reserved and quietly in another world. One that no one seemed to be able to break into.

“Hey Y/N/N? I brought you that book you asked for, what exactly are you researching now?” Wanda asked handing the princess the new book while she sat on her usual bench in the garden.

“Just brushing up on the laws and what not.” Y/N answered never lifting her head as she grabbed the book and opened it with the others around her.

Wanda watched as she once again dove into another world. She let some time go before she finally spoke up.

“Y/N, you’ve been dodging your father for the past five days every time he tries to reach out. People say that he’s actually really upset and it’s not an angry upset, but a he feels bad upset. I know you’re not happy with him, but do you think holeing yourself up and reading endless books on old laws and kingdom rules is going to help?”

Y/N didn’t look up immediately, but instead took in a deep breath before closing the book, and setting it next to her on the stack. She looked around her, leaning back in her seat and then finally looking at a worried Wanda.

“Please. Sit.” she instructed patting the stone bench she was on.

“Wha-”

“Sit.” she said with a soft smile.

Wanda did as asked and became more worried for going off on her knowing that she wasn’t really in a normal state of mind, and was now freaked out she would yell at her like she had her father. But the exact opposite happened.

“You remember when my mom brought me out here all those times back then?” Y/N asked looking out into the garden around her.

“Yeah. You two would spend hours out here.” Wanda nodded watching the princess closely.

“Because she said this was a place of refuge. A place of no hate and no trouble. Basically, if I felt as if an emotion was taking over myself or my actions, this is where she would tell me to come ground myself.”

“I don’t under-”

“It could be if I was sad. I would come here and the rule was grow and learn from it. Don’t fester in it. Same for if I was mad or angry.” she said leaning forward more with her hands on both sides of her. “Come here and try and figure out the balance. It doesn’t have to be bad emotions either. She would even bring me out here if I had too much energy. She taught me this was a place to find the center emotion of whatever I was feeling. Do you get what I’m trying to say?” Y/N said turning to Wanda who she knew out of all people she would understand.

“If any emotion good or bad overwhelmed you, you came here to balance it out instead of letting it take over you.” she summarized.

“Yes. This place is a grounding sanctuary for me.” Y/N laughed slightly looking at her hands now. “I almost went insane at the boarding school since they didn’t have this. It became hard to find a happy median, but then I realized. Mom built this place as a stepping stone. She gave me an area to help grow in learning how to find the peace, but in reality, I can now do it anywhere.” she turned to Wanda who was giving her a look saying that hadn’t been the case recently. “Yes, I know I’ve been all shouting and anger with my father lately instead of finding the peace, but it’s hard. Years of my life suffering emotionally because of a lie. I think I have the right to be a little angry and not hide it.”

“No, you’re right. I would probably scream a little too.” Wanda chuckled making the both of them lighten up.

“That’s why I’ve been coming out here the past few days. I’m finally getting my head in a spot where I don’t want to punch my hand through a wall… or my father's face. Am I happy with him? Far from it. Am I deciding to let that anger break me down anymore? Absolutely not. Instead, like a queen, see a problem? Fix it. See a war on the brink? Back up your reasons for peace.” she shrugged grabbing the book and facing it to Wanda who now actually read the title of the book.

“How to rewrite a law- Y/N what are you-?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t catch on earlier. But I guess when everyone is so confused by my change in demeanor, it’s hard to focus on the little details surrounding them.” she laughed opening the book and finding her place.

“Y/N, do you really think you will be able to change anything? Don’t get me wrong, I want this for you and Steve. I do. I really do, and so does everyone else, but this law… This rule and ongoing agreement. It’s something that hasn’t been changed since the dawn of time. Since empires had been built-” Wanda continued.

“Which is exactly why we need a change. How is history supposed to better itself if we keep everything the same?” Y/N said as if it were a simple question. Which it was, but it was something so new for this era. “Change is coming, and I’m going to be the person who starts it.”

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aquamarineicecream · 4 years

Text

Rewind Sanders Sides Superhero AU - Chapter 4

Ao3 Link

>Chapter 1

>Chapter 5

Logan regretted it.

He regretted everything that had led to that unimaginable moment. The shock was slowly subsiding and giving way to a much deeper emotion. Anger flooded through him, mingling with the grief to form a near deadly combination. The pain crept in, not unlike tomorrow creeping in this petty pace from day to day. Logan loathed his ability to effortlessly recall the iconic line from Macbeth’s Act V, Scene 5 soliloquy much like he currently loathed the man responsible for talking passionately about Shakespeare's dramas so frequently that the knowledge in its entirety had long ago become instilled in his head. The same man who was also at fault for the destruction of one of his most prized possessions. The man who was now looking at him with the innocence of a puppy, yet with the notorious mischief of a raccoon lying just underneath the surface. Roman.

It all started the day after Deceit’s suggestion to train Virgil. The team decided it was best not to waste any time and instead to begin the training after a small, slightly rushed breakfast cooked by none other than Logan himself, who'd been taking cooking lessons for the past month and was more than happy to put his new skill to use.

“Okay kiddo, so I talked it over with Logan before you got up and we figured it would be best to start the training on the roof. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure. But I really don't think this'll work. I've been trying for the last five years to control this thing but I've found it's pretty pointless.”

“Oh cheer up and don't be such a Negative Nancy! We'll have your powers shipshape and Bristol fashion in no time.”

“I'll take your word for that,” Virgil mumbled into his pancakes, avoiding Roman's overly optimistic gaze as though worried it was contagious. Logan had observed much about Virgil Messana in the past day alone. As one of the top intelligence workers in the Superiors’ organization and the soon-to-be head chairman of the entire intelligence sector of the association if he played his cards right, Logan had already created a mental list detailing Messana’s habits and ticks, down to the way he tugged his worn hoodie sleeves further over his hands every time he got particularly anxious.

Quite frankly, Virgil Messana fascinated him. He knew every detail about the man’s file, yet the man himself was slowly proving to be quite the enigma. He was rather quiet at times but he always was able to come up with a snarky response if needed which appeared to be having some effect on Roman. They'd begun to have quite the rapport and even Logan, despite all his oblivious glory, was able to sense underlying tension every time Virgil was near Roman.

“Lo, everything a-okay?” A gentle voice interrupted Logan's thoughts and he abruptly realized that for the past minute, his unfocused gaze had been fixated on the chair where Patton had previously been seated.

“Hm? Oh, yes. I'm alright. I merely became momentarily lost in thought, that's all,” Logan was quick to reply as the world shifted back into focus and he became vividly aware of the fact that he and Patton were the only two left at the table.

“Okey dokey. If you're sure you're okay, then we can head out.” Patton's voice was warm and grounding, as Logan had discovered it so often was. It was comforting, and refreshing even, when put into context with the cold reality they all called normalcy.

“We should join the others,” Logan agreed with a nod. He stood and picked up his mug to bring it with him, ignorant, as always, to Patton's gaze lingering on his retreating figure as the young hero began to lead the way up the stairs.

“What a beautiful day to blow stuff up!”

Roman’s enthusiastic remark was met with a disapproving look from Logan.

“What? I’m just trying to lighten the mood a little. It’s too early to look so serious,” the larger man protested. Logan merely crossed his arms and turned away to look at Virgil, electing not to dignify Roman with a response.

“Alright, Virgil. It’s time to begin. Please hold this and stand a small ways back.” Logan handed Virgil a small beanbag and waited for the other man to take a few steps back before picking up a notebook and pen he’d left on a small table he’d set up earlier that morning. Patton had arrived by now and was standing alongside Deceit and Roman, all three a safe distance away from their new recruit. Logan and Deceit had spoken last night and decided on how they were going to conduct the experiments. He nodded at Deceit to ready the stopwatch before speaking again. “On my count, I would like you to attempt to explode the item you’re currently in possession of. Ready?” It was evident to all of them that the young soon-to-be-hero was far from ‘ready’ based on his trembling hands alone, but Virgil gave a small nod, allowing Logan to proceed with his plan. “Three… two… one… now.”

The team watched with bated breath as Virgil closed his eyes. Logan had a tight grip on his pen which was poised over the paper, ready to scribble down notes and observations at a moment's notice. They watched on as…nothing happened.

It was the epitome of underwhelming. Logan made sure to write a note of how Virgil’s entire body, not just his hands, was trembling now as the young man opened his eyes, the disappointment in himself evident.

“Maybe you just need to hold it a little longer?” Patton suggested hesitantly. Virgil set down the beanbag without meeting the other man’s gaze.

“That won’t make any difference. I told you all this was pointless,” Virgil replied darkly, haunted by his many failed attempts from the last five years.

“Aw, kiddo, you can’t give up already! It took me a while with my powers too, but I’m sure you’ll get it sooner or later.”

“I guess…” Virgil picked up the beanbag with a sigh and studied it for a moment before closing his eyes to concentrate again.

“Alright.” Logan readied his pen once more. “Begin your second attempt.”

~~~~~

The sun was beating down, making the day uncomfortably warm. Uncomfortable also happened to be the optimal word to describe the tension the group shared at the moment. It had been hours of trial after trial yet no matter how many times Logan instructed Virgil to attempt to corrode and subsequently explode the item in his hands, failure appeared to be inevitable.

By now, their efforts had become both more tired and desperate. Logan had suggested Virgil try holding different objects since the beanbag remained unaffected by Virgil’s powers. These objects included but were not limited to: Virgil’s old pair of gloves, a sponge, an umbrella, an engraved gold pocket watch (given to Virgil by Roman after the latter stole it from Deceit), a handful of playbills (given to Virgil by Deceit as his revenge on Roman), a Rubix Cube (as Roman’s attempt to pull Logan into Deceit’s and his mini war), and lastly, a package of Oreos. No one was quite sure why Roman chose the last one, yet none had time to question it since Virgil refused to even attempt to corrode and explode it, saying he was insulted by the very notion of being told to destroy his favorite cookie.

However, the process of experimenting with different objects had ended almost an hour ago and their spirits were once again low. Logan’s notebook now contained multiple pages detailing the distinct ways in which Virgil held each object, hands still shaking each time he concentrated regardless of how many times they had already gone through this process.

“I believe that we should all take a respite. It would appear that one is far overdue.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea, Lo. A small break sounds like just the ticket.” Patton turned to Virgil. “How about we go get you something to eat for lunch, kiddo?”

Logan closed his notebook as Virgil set down the beanbag in the pile of other unsuccessful, now-neglected objects before following Patton to the kitchen.

“Maybe we should try another remote. That could be his specialty,” Roman joked while walking over to Deceit and Logan.

“Don’t be foolish, Roman. We already know his powers have worked on other materials in the past. There must be some minute element to this that we’re missing.” Logan handed his notebook to Deceit for the other man to look through.

“In all seriousness, what do you two make of Virgil?” Deceit asked without looking up from the page he was reading.

“He’s a good guy deep down. I know it. But our stupid Superiors are keeping stuff from us, I’m sure of that. And it wouldn’t be the first time either. They’re always up to something.”

“Relax, Roman. You know better than to speak ill of our employers. You’re beginning to sound like Deceit with his constant suspicions.”

“I’m only saying that we shouldn’t keep trusting them so much when we never know if the next legislation they pass will stop us from even seeing each other.” Roman crossed his arms. “And you’re only happy with them because you’re their golden boy who’s one successful mission away from becoming their new Head of Intelligence and leaving the rest of us to try and deal with whoever they choose as your replacement.”

“There is no cause for you to be upset over this. My replacement will most likely be Virgil at this rate, which is fortunate for you considering the fact that ever since he was kept alive, you’ve appeared to be happier than you have acted in quite some time. But either way, nothing is for certain yet, especially because they might not even choose for me to retire from being ‘Logic’ and take the mantle and responsibilities of the new position instead.”

“Logan, we all know that you’ll get the promotion. All I ask is that you consider looking closely into the reason the position is vacant in the first place.” Deceit spoke calmly as he looked up from the notes before closing the notebook and handing it back to Logan.

“It’s shady,” Roman added to break the silence that had begun to fill the space. “And you should also keep in mind that not all of us started here by choice, so you never know what you’re gonna have to deal with in a spot that high up.”

Logan had no response as both his and Roman’s thoughts drifted to what Patton had confided in the others precisely two years and 314 days ago. Their momentary distraction allowed Deceit a chance to force the pained expression from his face without either of the other men noticing it was ever even there at all. It seemed that his return to a neutral expression had come just in time too, as at that moment, Patton and Virgil walked back onto the roof, each carrying plates of snacks to share with the others. They set them down on the table and Virgil grabbed a couple chips before retreating to a deserted corner. Roman ate a pretzel before immediately going after him.

“Hey, Messana.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“So, you liking your second day so far?”

“You mean, am I enjoying disappointing you guys and making a complete fool of myself? Meh, it’s just another day for me.” Virgil shrugged as Roman rolled his eyes in response.

“You’re hardly disappointing, my Chemically Imbalanced Romance. You just need to keep practicing and I’m sure you’ll get it.”

“I guess,” Virgil replied doubtfully.

“C’mon, I’ll prove it to you. All you need is to try a little thing called trial-by-fire. Though I guess in your case, it’s trial-by-matchstick since it’s not exactly a life and death thing.” Roman led the way over to the table and Virgil hesitantly followed, curious to see what Roman had in mind. Roman’s back was facing Virgil so the smaller man didn’t notice as Roman grabbed the first object on the table, without stopping to check what it was, and flung it at Virgil while shouting “catch!”

“Roman!”

Virgil fumbled to catch the object but it slipped through his hands and Logan looked on in horror as his prized TARDIS-shaped mug smashed on the concrete.

“Roman!!”

It was Logan, not Virgil, who shouted this time. The educated man had a look of murder on his usually inexpressive face as he stormed over to Roman and Virgil.

“What were you thinking?! You can’t simply surprise someone by flinging easily breakable mugs at them! Especially when the mug isn’t even your own,” Logan fumed.

“I’m sorry, Specs. I didn’t realize it was that. But it’s just a mug and I can get you a new one online,” Roman offered apologetically.

“You should have stopped to consider your actions before proceeding with them. And I would not like to receive a new mug from you, I can purchase a new one myself. But it is the principle of the matter! You always do actions such as these, including on our missions when you hurl yourself into combat and potentially dangerous situations with a complete lack of forethought and without having paused to either listen or contribute to the plan. You’re impossible! And another thing -” Logan paused momentarily from his tirade to adjust his glasses and take a breath but Deceit shushed him before the other man had the chance to finish his sentence. Logan, in turn, turned his deadly glare on Deceit, silently imploring him to have a justified explanation for the interruption.

“Everyone be quiet and listen,” was the only response Deceit gave. They all held their breath while listening attentively. Patton was the first of the others to notice the faint pounding coming from downstairs.

“Someone’s here.”

The alarm in his tone was evident and in mere seconds he was racing down the stairs with his coworkers on his heels and Virgil, slightly unsure of what to do, bringing up the rear. Once the group reached the living room, it became evident that the noise was due to someone banging on their front door. Patton, being the nicest of them, walked over to answer it, leaving the rest in suspense. Logan shared an uneasy look with Deceit, both men hoping the person at the door was a civilian who’d gotten lost instead of who both men had a sneaking suspicion the unidentified visitor truly was.

“Of course you can come in, sir.” Patton’s cheerful voice carried into the room and Logan’s heart sunk with the knowledge that his guess at the mystery person’s identity was all but confirmed to be who he worried it was.

“Wait in here for a sec, please,” Patton said, leaving the person by the door before rushing back into the room where the others were.

“A representative is here. He’s come for Virgil,” Patton explained in a hushed tone.

“We can’t let them take him!” Roman whispered in reply.

“We won’t. I’ll talk with them to try and come to a reasonable resolution. Logan, Patton, it would be best if you join me.”

“I’m coming too. If we’re gonna give a case for Messana to stay here then I want to help.”

“No. You’re not diplomatic enough so it’s better if you stay here and keep him out of sight.”

“But that’s not fair. I should be able to help just as much as the rest of you do, Snakey McSnakerson,” Roman argued while crossing his arms defensively.

“You know, Ro, your never-ending nicknames don’t exactly help your case.”

“Fine.” Roman gave a slightly exasperated sigh before motioning for Virgil to start walking down the hall that led to their bedrooms.

“Wait, Roman,” Logan went after him as the others left to go speak with the representative. “I apologize for allowing my temper to get the best of me earlier. It was childish and unprofessional and I quite hope that you’re willing to forgive me.”

“Don’t worry about it, Calculator Watch. You’re already forgiven. But are you sure you don’t want me to get you a new Doctor Who mug?”

“I am certain of it, Roman. However, thank you anyways for the offer.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“About the conversation I’m about to partake in, I am sorry that you can’t join us but it’s for the best. Deceit has proven in the past that he often has an overarching plan, so it’s better that we trust his decisions to be logical.”

“I guess…”

“You shouldn’t concern yourself about the matter. Currently, your main priority is to assure that Virgil does not dwell too much on the setbacks of today nor that he worries an excessive amount about the meeting at hand. I have a working theory that I’ll explain to you later regarding his powers in relation to his emotions but for now, attempt to keep him calm so that we may ensure no inopportune mishaps occur whilst our visitor is present.”

“Okay, you got it. I know exactly how to deal with our resident emo.” Roman gave the other man a reassuring grin and turned to go the same way as before, hearing Logan muttering a doubtful “I’m sure” under his breath as Roman made his way to Virgil’s temporary room.

Roman walked into the practically bare guest room, unsurprised to see Virgil awkwardly perched on the edge of one of the only pieces of furniture in the small room. Roman sat next to him, midnight blue eyes a striking contrast to the drab gray sheets of the twin-sized bed. In fact, everything about Roman looked out of place compared to his surroundings, from his auburn hair to his bright red and white bomber jacket covering both his fitted black shirt and toned muscles, which Virgil was now realizing he was having a weirdly strong urge to keep admiring. He despised that urge much like he hated how seeing Roman this close and in a casual outfit instead of his uniform. It felt so commonplace when it should be feeling foreign considering this man was still a stranger to him.

“There’s nothing to do in here so do you wanna go to my room instead?” Roman offered, interrupting the other man’s thoughts. Virgil stared at him without responding. “It has a TV,” he added with a disarming grin.

“Alright, I’m sold. Let’s go.”

With that, Roman stood up and led Virgil down the hall to the furthest room from the one they’d just left. Roman flopped back on his bed while Virgil entered. The room was accentuated with as much red and gold as possible, falling just short of appearing cluttered. Roman’s room had an assortment of both poster sized and polaroid photographs showcasing deserted beaches and sunsets peeking through from behind snowy mountain landscapes, which covered the starch white walls. There was a distinct vintage feel to the decor, yet it lacked the element that made it feel lived-in. Instead, it was closer to one of those display rooms one sees in department stores; perfect at a glance, but disguising an empty feeling underneath.

The only indications of life there were a red and black acoustic guitar propped up in the corner furthest from the door and the man currently sitting up in order to start flipping through channels. Roman watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil took in the new surroundings.

“Do you like the photos?”

“Yeah. Surprisingly, they’re pretty cool.”

“Thanks. I took them myself.” Roman continued looking through channels for a minute longer before giving up.

“Nothing good is on so I’m gonna look for something on Netflix.” Virgil sat down next to him as Roman opened the streaming service only to have it crash moments later, causing Roman to groan in frustration.

“Oh, come on! You’d think being a world-renowned superhero would at least warrant having fast enough internet to let us watch a movie!” Roman tried opening it again in hopes that it would load but his attempt was in vain. “This stupid thing won’t work.” He tossed down the remote and crossed his arms, appearing bothered by the device yet in truth, it was for another reason. “First, I’m not even considered to have another chance to help and defend you and now this thing refuses to work!”

“Well none of you should be talking for me. I don’t need some kind of knight in shining armor. I can take care of myself.” Virgil paused to narrow his eyes suspiciously. “And what do you mean ‘another chance’?” Virgil’s distrusting gaze landed on Roman who looked like a deer in the headlights for a moment before quickly racking his brain for an answer.

“That’s classified.”

“Seriously?”

“…yeah.”

“Alright then.” Virgil examined Roman for a moment before adding, “If everything’s gonna be classified and we can’t watch anything, then I’m going back to the guest room.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you. But for the record, I know what you’re doing, Count Woe-laf, and it totally didn’t work. I’m just nice and enjoy breaking rules. But anyways, what I was talking about was that I wasn’t exactly on board with the whole ‘Let’s Kill Messana’ party but following orders is part of my job so I couldn’t really protest.” Roman looked down to study his crimson comforter which he decided had just become the most interesting object in the whole universe. He was sure Virgil suspected there was more behind Roman’s original comment that he was holding back but he didn’t press for details. Virgil stayed quiet while watching Roman for a moment before speaking again.

“Can I ask you a question? How did you start working like this? And why do you guys sometimes act like you know each other and other times act like total strangers?”

“That’s more than one question,” Roman joked in an attempt to lighten the mood to which Virgil rolled his eyes. “I started when I was recruited when I was 19. I was working with a partner at the time and doing jobs for hire when some people saw me use my powers, I guess. I got an anonymous message giving me a time, date, and location so I went to see what it was all about. I met a guy there who told me he wanted to recruit me for a program they were setting up for people who were ‘special’.” Roman paused at the memory, guilt plaguing his features for a brief moment before he hastened to finish the story.

“I took him up on the offer, they trained me, and now, here I am,” he said, giving Virgil a forced smile.

“Oh…what about your partner? Are you still close?”

“He was like a brother to me. But no, we don’t talk too much ever since I left three years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil offered after a short, unbearable silence.

“Don’t be.” Roman gave Virgil a smile in reassurance that he hoped appeared more sincere than his last one.

“So...you were recruited like one of the Avengers?”

“Think more like the Justice League, though all those comic book heroes don’t have anything on the real thing. But pretty much how it works is that we’ve all got our own places to protect, like how Batman has Gotham, but we team up for certain high profile missions. This place is where we stay when we're doing those missions so it's pretty much our version of the Watchtower. And, to answer your question from earlier too, we only know bits and pieces about each other and our pasts. Our Superiors give us information on a need-to-know basis, so all we’ve got to go on when it comes to each other is whatever they decide to tell us or we want to share with the rest of the team. For example, none of us knew each other’s secret identities for almost a year. And we still don’t know Deceit’s name. Or pretty much anything about him.” Roman turned so he was directly facing Virgil before speaking again. “Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.”

“Alright fine. Ask away.”

“Is your favorite song ‘The Black Parade?’” His eyes had a mischievous glint that perfectly complemented his teasing grin. Virgil only glared at him in reply. “What? You look emo enough,” Roman added, feigning innocence.

“You know what? I’m not even gonna answer that. I’m pretty sure if I did, it would only encourage you, which is literally the last thing I want.”

“You’re no fun, Marilyn Morose.”

“Wow, another nickname. So original,” Virgil retorted sarcastically. “Besides, you can’t judge me when your favorite song is probably something from a cheesy, overrated musical.”

“Excuse you, my favorite song is not even close to that, actually. It’s ‘La Canción’ by J Balvin and Bad Bunny.”

“I’m sorry- Bad what?”

“Bad Bunny. You know I gotta support my fellow Puerto Rican.”

“What kind of name is Bad Bunny?”

“Shhh. Don’t question it.”

“Alright fine Princey, I’ll admit it. I wasn’t expecting that at all.”

“Well, I’ve got a good memory associated with that song,” Roman explained with a shrug. “It’s a pretty good song too.”

“In that case, you’ve gotta play it for me sometime.”

“Okay, I will,” Roman agreed with a smile. Before either could say anything else, they heard shouting coming from the kitchen, interrupting any chance they could have had to continue their conversation.

“We should go see what’s wrong.”

“Wait, but I’m supposed to keep you here and away from the representative.”

“Technically yeah, you are supposed to do that. But don’t you wanna go with me to see what’s happening?” Virgil asked while standing up.

“You know I do. We gotta make sure no one catches us over there. I’m sure we’ll be fine though, so let’s go.” Roman stood and walked into the hallway, being as quiet as possible as he and Virgil made their way to the source of the ruckus.

“-we will not hesitate to remove him from your custody by force if necessary.”

“If you want him you’ll have to go through me!”

“That can be arranged,” the stranger’s voice snapped coldly.

“If you insult Patton one more time, I can personally assure you that you will be leaving this building both without a job and possibly with a stronger understanding of the importance of self-preservation considering that I will make you regret ever setting foot in here,” Logan threatened, immediately jumping to the sweeter man’s defense.

Roman noticed Virgil's visible surprise at hearing Logan speak in such an emotional manner twice in one day, especially considering that this time was much more passionate than the first.

“They have a kind of thing going on between them. It's complicated,” Roman whispered to Virgil to serve as an explanation before staying quiet so they could eavesdrop once more.

“Calm down boys,” Deceit, ever the negotiator, said in a placating tone. “I swear to you that we’ll uphold our end of the bargain as long as you stand by yours.”

“I still say this whole deal is ridiculous.”

“Maybe it is, but keep in mind that you were the one who set the terms for our compromise. Terms that we’re going out of our way to agree to.”

“Fine. I’ll be sending someone in a month to verify that you’ve made the progress you assured me you will. I hope we won’t have the misfortune of seeing each other again.”

“The sentiment is mutual,” Logan fired back.

Roman and Virgil moved from their hiding place in time to see the scathing glare the representative gave the three other men in the room before he turned on his heel and stormed out the front door. They, in turn, rushed into the kitchen the moment they heard Deceit close the door after him.

“What happened? Are they coming back for Virgil?”

“Calm down, Roman,” Deceit said in a soothing tone. “We have until December 2nd to train our new friend. That’s when another representative will come back to check up on us. If we fail, they’ll take him to train him using their own methods.” Seeing the clear worry on Roman’s face, he quickly added, “But that’s a month away. Everything will be fine by then.” Deceit’s reassuring smile was just as false as his reassurances, but Roman didn’t want to question it. The two continued talking about ways to speed up the training, with Virgil giving occasional commentary, while Logan and Patton walked back into the living room.

“Are you alright? In regards to your emotions, I mean.”

“Yeah, I’m okay, Lo.” Patton sighed heavily as he sat on the couch. “You didn’t have to defend me back there.”

“It was only right of me to do so.” Logan sat next to him, stiff posture relaxing slightly, the way it only ever did when he was alone with Patton. “You make a conscientious decision to act as kind as you possibly can to every individual you meet in spite of your upbringing and the events you have lived through which have all figuratively shaped you to become the amiable and considerate person you are now. I possess a profound respect for you for that and you should not have to tolerate sitting by and listening to your good-natured personality be slandered in such an unjust fashion.”

“Thanks, Logan. That’s nice of you to say. I should be asking if you are okay, though. We never got a chance to talk after the whole thing that happened on the roof.”

“Oh, that. I must implore you to consider moving past my immature actions from earlier. I shouldn’t have reacted in such a rash manner to the situation and quite frankly, am ashamed and embarrassed by the part I played in the ordeal.”

“Logan, it’s alright to show your emotions more than just once in a blue moon. It’s not healthy to bottle all these tricky feelings up all the time and only let them out in bursts when you can’t help it. You don’t have to try and deal with it on your own so no one will think any less of you if you need help sometimes.”

“I appreciate your concern, Patton, but please do not take offense to the fact that I am going to continue managing things the way I always have.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. But just remember I’m always here for you.”

“Thank you.”

“I was wondering though, why did you get so upset about the mug? I get that it’s your favorite one, but you can replace it, right?” Despite Patton’s expression remaining as gentle as ever, Logan lowered his head to avoid the other man’s gaze, his own expression quickly becoming clouded with a look resembling shame.

“I am very much aware of how juvenile it is for me to have attachments to inanimate objects, yet, despite my best efforts, it would appear that I unintentionally allowed myself to mentally form an emotional connection to that particular mug.” Logan quickly adjusted his glasses to give himself a moment to collect his thoughts just as Patton’s gloved hand gently cupped to Logan’s face and tilted it up so they could look each other in the eyes. Patton looked silently into Logan’s eyes for a second before speaking quietly, unaware that Logan’s mind had completely blanked of all thought the second Patton had touched him.

“You don’t have to tell me any more if you don’t want to.” He lowered his hand. “I don’t want you to be pressured, Lo.”

“No - I mean, that’s alright. I want to tell you, Patton. If only based on the fact that at the very least I owe an explanation for my unconventional behavior.” He glanced down in an effort to hide any residual hesitance in his emerald green eyes, before meeting Patton’s gaze once more.

“I cared so deeply about it because that mug was the first thing I was ever able to purchase with my own money that was not an absolute necessity. I purchased it when I was only eighteen years old, a few months after I had been forcefully instructed to leave my aunt’s house for being too much of a burden ever since I had no choice but to move in with her. The mug was symbolic of a milestone for me, I suppose. It was physical proof that I truly was free and no longer had to rely on her for anything thanks to my new job working in intelligence for our Superiors, even before I discovered my powers. Furthermore, that mug was the first thing of mine, ever since I moved in with her, that I could own without being worried what repercussions might occur due to it being an object designed to represent one of my favorite television programs.”

“Wow, I had no idea it meant so much to you.”

“I’m sure you think I’m rather foolish now, though.”

“What? No way! Tons of people have stuff they associate with a memory or feeling. That doesn’t mean you should think you’re silly for having those feelings, Lo.”

“Well, thank you for listening. However, I regret taking so much of your time.”

“Don’t worry about that. I like spending time with you.” Patton’s smile was infectious, causing a hint of a smile to grace Logan’s features before he schooled his expression back to the emotionless one he usually had.

“We should go discuss Virgil’s training with the others. Who knows what eccentric ideas they may have come up with while we were gone?”

“Good point.”

The two stood and made their way back into the kitchen, rejoining the rest of the group, anxious for a solution to controlling Virgil’s powers.

~~~~~

In what felt like no time at all, December 2nd arrived and they had yet to find a solution. Virgil had been training for hours every day, but so far the only times he’d successfully managed to blow something up had been unintentional. Now, as they sat around the kitchen table in palpable tension, they restlessly awaited the foreboding knocks that were bound to mark the arrival of the representative.

“Kiddos, I know today’s a big day, but you should eat up as much as you can. We’d hate to host a guest on an empty stomach.” Patton attempted a calming smile, yet it fell short of reaching his eyes.

“I don’t think any of us can eat anything today, padre,” Roman replied, noting how Patton too had been pushing his food around on his plate for the past five minutes.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed, worry leaking into his expression for a moment before he quickly smiled again to save face. Patton turned to Logan. “Lo, can you come with me to the kitchen to help me get a serving dish I left there?”

“Of course.”

“Great!” Patton said cheerfully and led the other man to the kitchen.

“I wasn’t aware that there was still a dish remaining. I was under the impression we had already brought all of them to the table but it appears I must have been mistaken,” Logan said as they arrived.

“Actually, you’re right. We already took all the food for the others over there. But the thing is, I needed an excuse to get you to come here so we could be alone,” Patton admitted sheepishly as he took off his gloves which had previously had syrup spilled on them. He quickly began to wash his hands as both as excuse to get the remaining syrup off his wrist and to avoid Logan’s perplexed stare,

“Patton, if you needed to talk to me about a private matter, you are aware that you could have simply said that from the start and I would have come, right?” Logan leaned back against the counter as he spoke, a touch of amusement and curiosity in his tone.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just that I know you don’t like showing any feelings in front of the others.” Patton dried his hands and kept his back to Logan as he opened the cabinet in front of himself, making sure Logan couldn’t see what he was now holding with the utmost care. “Plus I didn’t want to spoil the surprise,” he added, barely able to contain his excitement.

“What? Patton I’m afraid that you have - metaphorically - lost me.”

“Well, you told me how much your TARDIS mug meant to you, and I know it’s been a month but I can tell it’s still bothering you a bit and on top of that there’s all the nerves of today, so…” Patton trailed off as he turned around with a small smile, a Baymax mug cradled in his hands. “I made this for you. I remembered when you were telling me all about how much you like the message and symbolism in Big Hero Six, so I really hope you like this.”

“Patton - “ Logan cut himself off before his voice betrayed how overcome with emotion he truly was. “I can’t believe you actually listened and remember what I told you months ago. And,” he paused to quickly adjust his glasses in an attempt to distract himself from his slightly watering eyes, “thank you so much for taking the time to make this. It’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me.”

“It was no trouble at all, Lo,” Patton replied, beaming. He turned the round, white mug in his hands so the front decorated with the two black dots and line between them representing Baymax’s eyes along with the small gray circle located close to the mug’s base and hand painted to mirror where Baymax’s ID chips could be inserted was facing away from Logan. Instead, Patton showed the other man where he had painted the feeling chart Baymax used in the movie.

“Now with this you can ‘rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10’ without having to try and find the right words to talk about all those icky emotions. And if you’re ever feeling down and wanna talk about it without interrupting the others, you can just look at me and point to however you’re feeling so we can go get a quiet space to figure everything out. Just know you can always come to me.” Patton smiled, the same way that always made Logan feel a strange warm and tingling sensation in his chest.

“This means a great deal to me.” Logan felt a small smile tugging at his lips and for once, he allowed himself to experience the fleeting blissful feeling. Logan didn’t hesitate to reach out to take his new mug from Patton so that he could admire it further, taking Patton by surprise and rendering him unable to set down the mug fast enough. Logan, still distracted, had yet to realize his mistake. The moment their skin touched, it was too late.

Logan’s body hit the floor with a thud.

Next Chapter>>

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