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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

shut in [4]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, threats

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: greetings everyone!! how are we all doing? i have nothing to say here tbh so anyway stan sam wilson being a lil shit whenever possible.

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You hung up the call, trudging back to the house, discarding the battery along the way.

The air had a chill to it and there was an occasional breeze that went past, rustling leaves providing an eerily comforting background score. The temperature tended to rise as the day went on but nights were especially cold due to the abundance of trees.

Even though the stress of the situation you were in constantly consumed all your waking thoughts, you still found the time to appreciate how beautiful your surroundings were.

The last few days were barely memorable. Sam and you tended to stay out of each other's way unless your meal time coincided or you watched the local news together. The schedule had worked out favourably.

He wasn’t very hard to live with.

Most of the time.

His commentary and small jokes were never-ending but were not as unwelcome as you initially thought. It brought some much needed light into your otherwise dreary day. When it came to figuring out how to do laundry due to your now extended stay or whose turn it was to do it, things got a bit messy but were resolved quickly.

He used to disappear often for hours on end. You never concerned yourself with going after him to find out where he went, figuring that unless he was hatching a plot that led to your demise, he was entitled to his own privacy. He’d return a while later, calmer than when he left.

It was fine. Nothing to write home about. Neither of you were dead yet.

“What are you doing on the bed?” You were reconsidering your last thought when you walked into the bedroom to resume your self-interrupted sleep, only to find him face down on the sheets. “It’s my day today.”

“Just give me some time. I’ll be out of here soon enough.” His voice was muffled as he spoke into the sheets.

“You can take all the time you need tomorrow when it’s your turn.” You swatted at his legs, earning a grunt of chagrin from him.

“Go eat some soup and maybe you’ll calm down,” he fired back, unmoving.

“Today’s not soup day. Which you would know if you paid attention to our schedule. That we made. Together. The same schedule which says it’s my turn today.”

He groaned, shoving his face deeper into the pillow. “My back’s killing me. Just give me a few.”

“Why, what’d you do?” you asked curiously, letting go of his leg.

“Combat training. Took a few beatings, fucked up my spine.”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“It comes and goes.” Sam finally rolled onto his back, giving you a view of his face. His bone structure was amazing, even from quite possibly the ugliest angle you could have over him. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

You just stared at him as he linked his arms behind his neck, elevating his head to look at you. He had a small stubble that was starting to grow longer. You wondered if he would shave it. He looked good regardless.

“How’s your beloved?”

“Huh?”

“The person you keep sneaking around to talk to on the phone. I’m not your dad, y’know. You can talk to them inside the house, ‘m not gonna ground you,” he quipped, a small, teasing smile on his face.

“He’s not my lover. Just... an acquaintance.” You felt the awkwardness starting to set in after you trailed off. “Anyway since you’re awake, we need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What happened that day. We’ve been avoiding it but we need to figure out what went wrong. Or at least a clue.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, wincing as he sat up straight. “How do you want to do it?”

“Just talk me through how you got put on this mission and what exactly happened that day, I guess.” You took a place on the bed, leaning backward on your hand for support.

He nodded, delaying for a second to collect his thoughts before beginning.

“So basically-”

The sun was particularly relentless that day.

The ringing bell above the door of his favourite coffee shop was a welcoming sound. The barista smiled at him in greeting, asking if he wanted his usual to go.

His park bench was empty as it always was. Sam liked to think of it as a small gift from the universe; the fact that it was perpetually unoccupied.

He liked to sit there and watch people’s day go by. His iced coffee-

“I don’t really require that much detail.”

“Patience. I’m getting there.”

It was arguably one of the most peaceful days he had had in awhile, and he was hoping to keep the streak going. Nothing seemed like it would phase him, not even the phone ringing, drawing his attention away from the scene in front of him. Caller ID didn’t trace who it was.

“Hello?”

“Wilson.”

Sam gripped the cup so hard he thought it might spill over onto his jeans.

“I told you not to call me, Ransone.”

“But honey we had such a good time last night,” he faux cooed, “You know I have needs-”

“I’m not getting involved in your stupid organisation, Vincent. I told you I’m done,” Sam broke in, not wanting to waste time listening to his stupid dramatics.

“Listen here, Wilson.” The swift change in his tone was looming, threatening. “You’re done when I say you’re done-”

“Wanna bet?” Sam took a sip of his coffee. “I thought we made it clear in Detroit that we’re done. Honey.”

He added the last part out of pure spite just to get a rise out of him. Much to his glee it seemed to work as Ransone let out a deep exhale before continuing.

“That was before we found out there’s a mole in my gang. I want you to kill him.”

“This is way below my pay grade. Have one of your interns do it. Your shitty murder warehouse hasn’t seen much action in a while.”

“This is Pierce we’re talking about. If he’s working for another organisation, his ass is going to be so guarded, these kids couldn’t wouldn’t even get past the gate. Besides, you know my murder warehouse is for special guests only-”

“Man, it must suck real hard to be you right now,” Sam didn’t wait for him to complete his sentence. He finished the last bit of the drink he had left, gathering his things before standing up. “Find someone else. I’m out.”

“You might want to reconsider that. We found him.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said steadily, grip on the phone tightening.

“I think you do, though. Had us fooled for a while there, thinking he’s dead. A little more research, some cash into the right pockets and boom! There he is, clear as day.”

Sam felt a chill go up his spine.

“He doesn’t know we know. We’re just keeping an eye on him for now.”

“If you even fucking think of touching him-” his fists were balled up, struggling to keep his anger from rising.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” Ransone laughed. “I’ll just have one of my interns do it.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Ransone. It’s not somethi-”

“Do this hit and I’ll leave him alone,” Ransone interjected. “You’ve worked so hard to pull him from our radar, Sammy. It would be a shame if it all went to waste.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. Suddenly the day didn’t seem as bright as it was a few minutes ago.

“I’ll text you the details. You tend to leave me on read so I thought I’d make it more fun. Do you want the confetti with the message or the lasers-”

Sam just hung up the call, feet firmly rooted in his spot. He had no idea what he was going to do.

The notification of a new text alerted him. Pierce’s address along with the exact timeline of when he’d be home.

It was across the country. If he botched the mission on purpose, Ransone wouldn't be able to find him for a few days at least, much less reach him. He could go on the run-

‘Do it or he dies.’

His train of thought was interrupted by a picture that made his blood boil.

Especially when it exploded with the stupid confetti effect.

“Okay, basically he threatened you with something to go do the hit.” You didn’t ask him what exactly he was threatening him with and Sam didn’t really elaborate.

“Yeah. Didn’t leave me with much of a choice. He’s batshit fuckin’ crazy anyway, I knew he’d do whatever he felt like.”

“So you ended up going.”

Pierce didn’t seem to get many visitors. Not that anyone could be blamed, this guy was one of the biggest pieces of shit Sam had had the misfortune of meeting.

Over the two days he had staked out in front of the mansion to find out if this guy had as much security as Ransone had boasted of, Sam had come to the conclusive truth that no, he very much did not. He had a standard home security system which was lacklustre compared to the rest of the house.

Maybe he just assumed that being a senior member of the mob would garner some fear to his name. Dumbass.

He found the tall shrubbery surrounding the property to be out of the line of sight of the camera, and climbing it wasn't very hard. He landed softly on the manicured lawn, adjusting his gloves and checking his surroundings before pulling his gun that was secured in the waistband of his pants.

He removed the safety, keeping it close to him as he stalked through the front yard.

The red car parked at the side earned an eye roll from him. If he had one, there was no doubt there’d be more. He just had to find a basement or garage.

Walking around the house, he kept close to the wall, searching for any opening to the basement.

It didn’t take long before he found a set of stairs to the exterior entrance of the basement. He checked to see if anyone was around before making his way down them. The lock was unsurprisingly easy to pick.

The basement was mostly dark save for a few strategic lights placed to highlight the magnificence of his several race cars. The man was moved slower than the second coming of Jesus. The cars just seemed like an overcompensation.

The switchboard was not difficult to find. He pulled open the cover, glancing at the switches before turning all of them off, plunging the whole basement into darkness. If his security system was as outdated as Pierce was, it would have turned off along with the rest of the house.

“Oh, that’s why the cameras weren't working when I showed up.” Bits that seemed amiss were beginning to place itself together the more his story progressed. “I assume you entered the house through the window on the side?”

“Sure did.”

Your guess was right. He’s the reason why it was ajar by the time you arrived.

As soon as he entered he had his gun raised. Scanning the room as he went past, his senses were dialed up to eleven. If he was really under the protection of Serpentine, they were doing a terrible job. He had gotten in completely unscathed.

As he made his way deeper into the house, the sound of some movie playing became louder. But he had cut off the power supply to the house.

His eyebrows pulled together tightly into a frown, he made his way down the hall towards the sound. No one was in the dining or living room he canvassed.

Finally, Pierce’s silhouette became clearer. He appeared to just be sitting there idly while a smaller screen played in front of him. It wasn’t a TV, just an iPad.

If Pierce was asleep it would just make the job easier. Gun raised, Sam made his way into the room silently.

Pierce was still. Sam raised the gun, taking a step closer.

A floorboard creaked.

He immediately cringed, shoulders tensed as he came to an immediate stop. It seemed like forever as he waited for Pierce to wake up, to brandish a gun and try and defend himself.

He didn’t.

Taking a step to the side, Sam moved diagonally. Each one was slow. Ready for any sudden movements from his end.

He finally stopped in front of Pierce.

A bullet hole in his forehead. Eyes open. Chest still.

He was dead.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Sam breathed out, lowering his gun. Pierce’s glassy eyes stared blankly ahead. He didn’t look like had been dead for too long.

A soft thud in another room made his head snap up. It was in the same direction from where he came.

He silently moved backwards to the corner of the room, hoping that the darkness was enough of a disguise as he saw someone stalking down the hallway.

“And that’s when you come in. Thought you were comin’ back to make sure he was dead.”

“I had just got there. Saw that everything was off, and just assumed it was a power outage.”

“What about you? How’d you end up there?” Sam had his legs crossed, leaning forward to listen to you.

“Ransone told me that there was a spy who was sending information out for nearly two years. Needed him gone and he wasn’t sure if his other agent would show up-” you mentioned to him- “I guess that’s you. Told me I had an opening at 8pm. When I got there, the CCTV was off. Found the window open so I just used that.”

You were replaying your memory, step by step to remember what exactly you had seen.

“Heard the movie playing, found no one when I went down the hall. I saw the car keys on the island, which came in handy later. Entered the room, pushed his head with the gun and he just slumped over like a damn rag doll. That’s when you made your grand entrance.”

“Got one chance to make an impression. Had to make sure I looked cool, emergin’ from the shadows and whatnot.”

“It doesn’t make sense though.”

“Ouch. Thought it was pretty legit, actu-”

“No, no-” you waved him off. “Not your entrance. The henchmen thing.”

He paused, mulling over what you said. “If he was working for Serpentine, he would have been more careful. Why did they show up after he’s dead?”

“I don’t think they work for Serpentine. If Pierce was giving them information, they wouldn’t kill him.” You had good reason to be confident about that. You thought you did, from previous assessments.

“Unless they were scared that he’d switch again,” Sam suggested. You looked up from your fidgeting fingers to him. “Didn’t want any of their secrets going back to Ransone. They got to him before we did.”

“Why’d they shoot at us then? If they killed him and left, why’d they wait for us to show up? Why did they try to kill us?”

“I think we’re ignoring the important thing here,” he paused. You looked at him expectantly, prodding him on. “How did they know we were coming? They should have killed him and disappeared but they expected us.”

You tilted your head. “Are you saying-”

“There might be more.”

“Pierce might not have been the only one,” you finished. “There are more spies.”

“Tipped ‘em off. Told them we were going to be there.”

“And killing us was just to poke Ransone with a stick,” you murmured, eyes downcast, fidgeting with your fingers again. “But that just seems random. It doesn’t make sense.”

“None of this makes sense, sweetheart.” Sam scoffed, leaning back again.

“We’re missing something. There’s something wrong.” You looked at him. “If it’s just a random attack, why did they release our face to the whole fuckin’ country? Why are they specifically targeting us?”

“Finishing what they started. Covering all their tracks from that day. If we’re not dead, we’re a liability.”

“What if it’s not Serpentine at all? What if it’s another gang?”

“Serpentine has the most motive.”

“We don’t know that.”

He looked at you incredulously. “I think there’s substantial evidence to suggest they fuckin’ hate us. Besides, they’d want me dead specifically.”

“Why?” you inquired, eyes narrowing.

He opened his mouth like he was going to explain but closed it a second later, leaving you guessing.

“Fine, but it doesn’t mean they’re the only ones who do.” You made a point to ask him later or at least conduct your own research into it.

“Okay,” he said, shifting to lean on his elbows, “who else could it be? If Pierce was working for Serpentine and Ransone found out, sends someone to kill him, it’s essentially an attack on one of their own members. I’d say that's a pretty good motive.”

“I don’t know. Hydra doesn’t like us either. There’s Ten Rings too. But Serpentine just doesn’t work out.”

“How are you sure?” he asked. “You a spy for them too?”

You rolled your eyes at him as he raised his eyebrow. “It doesn’t make sense. What if we’re missing something? Did we go through everything?”

“I just went through my entire story down to the most irrelevant details. Twice. Nothing’s missing on my end.” He pushed himself off the bed, taking a long stretch before looking back at you.

“I think we should do it again. Just to make sure.” You rotated your torso to look at him. “We can figure it out-”

“You’re going to lose your mind if you keep at this any longer for today. Take a break.”

“I can’t take this lightly. Everyone’s out there looking for us and there is no one we can trust-”

“And going through our stories for the third time today is going to solve that how?” He had his hands crossed over his chest like a stern parent.

“I’m sorry but our faces are probably plastered in every damn police precinct in the country,” you snapped, “And I think that us remembering something some stupid detail might actually help rather than, I don’t know, taking naps and eating sandwiches. So no, I’m not going to drop it. Because I actually want to get out of here.”

You didn’t mean to sound so angry with him. He had told you everything twice already and patiently answered questions that you had. You didn’t think he was lying. You had no way of knowing but you hoped that some sort of allegiance was being formed between you both.

There was silence for a minute, leaving enough time for the guilt to creep in when he didn’t fire back. It’s what you expected.

“I’m not asking you to drop it. I’m saying take a break,” he said calmly. “You’re thinkin’ enough for the both of us anyway.”

You let out a small exhale, forcing the edge to retreat from your voice.

“I’ll be back in a while.” With that he turned around and left the room. A few minutes later you heard the backdoor open and shut.

Great.

You massaged your throbbing temples, eyes closed. He was right. Your mind wasn’t clear and you had been at this for hours. You wouldn’t be able to think critically.

Or at all.

You dropped back on the bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to your face. The coolness of the fabric felt nice.

You just let out a sigh, turning to your side to hopefully get some sleep.

_____

You woke up what seemed like hours later to a dark room.

It took your eyes a while to adjust stepping out into the hallway illuminated by the light in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice rang out. “Made you a sandwich.”

You rubbed your eyes groggily, looking where he was pointing. Sure enough, there was a sandwich on the table. He sat at the seat adjacent to it.

“Thank you.” You contemplated sitting next to him for dinner. It would be a first.

In the end you just grabbed your plate, giving him a half smile before making your way to the couch. You settled on sitting on the floor instead, leaning your back against the foot of the sofa.

The TV was already halfway through playing Megamind so you just let it continue, mindlessly chewing on the bread. As far as peanut butter sandwiches go, it wasn’t all that bad.

“Wilson,” you called out sheepishly, eyes not leaving the movie. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t right.”

“It’s okay.”

How he let go of it so easily was beyond you. The sandwich was surprising too, but you took it, not wanting to change his mind. He couldn’t have poisoned it. You had checked his stuff.

You sat in silence for the rest of the movie. Your mind kept slipping in and out of thought but it was a comfortable atmosphere you found yourself in.

After the credits started rolling, you went to leave your plate in the sink. Sam brushed past you, grabbing the blanket at the foot of the couch, launching himself onto the cushions.

“What are you doing?” you asked, puzzled as he snuggled in.

“Going to sleep?” He tilted his head to look at you.

“Use the bed.”

“It’s your turn today.”

“Your back’s fucked up. I’ll take the couch.”

He didn’t budge.

“Go on.” You mentioned to the room with a shrug of your shoulder.

“You’re not going to let me argue, are you?”

You pressed your lips into a straight line to hide a smile, shaking your head lightly.

“Well, okay.” He let out a small noise as he got up. “Guess I’m sleeping business class tonight.”

Sam walked past you, careful not to bump into you. You swapped places with him, making your way to the couch, readjusting the blanket that was haphazardly left there.

“Y/N.” You peered at him from the corner of your eye, only to fully turn when you caught his gaze. “I appreciate it.”

You just nodded, tossing the blanket over yourself as he switched off the light.

Next part

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

If/when you are doing prompts: In terms of personality and/or timeline of events, what, if anything, would be different if LWJ was raised in a different sect?

The healers said it was trauma.

Perhaps he was too young, or too sensitive; perhaps it was only that it had happened in such a way, at such an impressionable time – in any event, Lan Wangji’s reactions to his mother’s death had gone well beyond the normal signs of grief and turned into something much more severe.

After some intense discussion, it was agreed that he should be temporarily sent to live as a guest in another sect to see if he would benefit from the change of scenery. From not being around the place where he was drowning in the memories of his mother.

For Lan Wangji, the first he became aware of this was when a small dog darted through his feet and a boy of approximately the same size, who was chasing after it, crashed straight into him.

“Are you Lan Zhan?” the boy asked, blinking at him. “I’m Jiang Cheng. Can you help me catch the dog? It’s important!”

Lan Wanji blinked back, the entire experience being incredibly unlike anything he’d ever encountered before, and nodded.

“Thanks!” Jiang Cheng said, exhaling with relief. “My dad says he’ll think about getting me my own dogs eventually, but only if I show that I can take care of one, so the neighbors have been letting me hang out with theirs except this time he got loose and –”

Lan Wangji didn’t say anything, but Jiang Cheng didn’t seem to mind, and together they were able to wrangle the dog back to its proper owner.

Later that day, Lan Wangji’s uncle came and told him that he would be staying with the Jiang sect for a little while, since it seemed like the heat was good for his health. Lan Wangji hugged his brother good-bye and nodded seriously when his brother made him promise to write him a letter every day, and that, it seemed, was that.

Lan Wangji didn’t really fit in at the Lotus Pier, but then again, he hadn’t really fit in much at the Cloud Recesses, either. He wasn’t noisy or boisterous the way most of the children there were – he didn’t even say a single word for the first six months, and even then he only broke his silence long enough to call Jiang Cheng an idiot, and he would maintain for the rest of his life that Jiang Cheng deserved it – but luckily it seemed like Jiang Cheng didn’t really fit in all that much either.

Sure, he was noisy and loud sometimes, and he certainly liked chattering, but he wasn’t very good at being spontaneous – he liked things that made sense, that happened in order, and by chance that was also what Lan Wangji liked. Jiang Cheng was sensitive, too, his emotions easily manipulated and often prickly, and that meant he needed to be protected, and Lan Wangji liked that, too: he was used to being the younger brother, but he found he was pretty fond of being an older one.

(He wrote to Lan Xichen every day, and had a visit with him for a week once every season, so that they only missed each other a little bit sometimes, and sometimes not even all that much given the age gap between them.)

When Lan Wangji had finally started really feeling comfortable, about two years in, he noticed that Jiang Cheng’s father was often missing, and the terrifying idea of another father that was always in seclusion panicked Lan Wangji into another bout of mutism for a month or two until Madame Yu finally figured out the problem and explained to him that Jiang Fengmian wasn’t going into seclusion, but rather travelling out and about through the world, looking for something.

She didn’t specify what that something was, and perhaps she should have; it would have made Wei Wuxian’s arrival a little less of a shock to the system.

Don’t get Lan Wangji wrong – he likes Wei Wuxian.

He likes Wei Wuxian an awful lot.

But he’s an outside, a guest, and that meant that he could be upset where Jiang Cheng couldn’t about having his dogs sent away, and that meant he could notice that Wei Wuxian got picked up as often as he liked while Jiang Cheng never was, and that meant he could see the way Jiang Fengmian praised Wei Wuxian for all the things he was good at and never said anything to Jiang Cheng anymore and how it made Jiang Cheng more and more desperate to be better than Wei Wuxian at something, anything, if only it meant that his father would pay attention to him again.

Lan Wangji still had his problems with speaking sometimes, especially when he was upset, and he was a guest. He could notice things, and be upset, but that didn’t mean he could say anything about it.

“You have to tell me what the problem is,” Wei Wuxian told him very seriously. They were all eleven by then; Wei Wuxian had been with them for two years, an endless joy that always drew out Lan Wangji’s previously rare smiles. “Your speaking problem’s been getting worse over the past few months, and they’re even talking about sending you back to Gusu – I don’t want you to have to go!”

Lan Wangji gestured helplessly. Jiang Cheng had been the one to think of learning a sign language to help when Lan Wangji couldn’t find words, all those years ago, and Wei Wuxian had taken to it like a fish to water, but being able to sign didn’t matter if the problem was Lan Wangji not being able to communicate.

It was all much too awkward.

“I promise not to tell anyone without your permission? I’ll believe whatever you say, and I won’t get angry, no matter what!”

That helped, that helped a great deal, but Lan Wangji still couldn’t do it, the words crowding in his mouth and sticking in his throat.

“Why don’t you try writing it all down?” Wei Wuxian suggested. He was always paying attention to Lan Wangji, attentive and trying to find the ways to make him happiest; Jiang Cheng liked to tease them that they’d get married one day when they got older, and honestly Lan Wangji rather liked the idea.

He wrote it all down and gave Wei Wuxian the letter, then signed, “You promised not to get angry.”

“I won’t,” Wei Wuxian promised, and read the letter. He frowned. “Lan Zhan – you don’t really think Uncle Jiang would do this, do you?”

Lan Wangji felt angry tears sting at his eyes. “You promised you’d believe me,” he signed, furious and betrayed, and ran away before Wei Wuxian could respond.

He found one of the old haunts that he and Jiang Cheng used to frequent before Wei Wuxian joined their little group and sulked there for a while, wondering if he could maybe petition Madame Yu to send him into seclusion for a few months – but no, that would only mean he wouldn’t see it happening, instead of actually taking steps to stop it, and they were cultivators, Lan and Jiang; they weren’t allowed to just turn a blind eye like that.

After a while, he went back to his room, and Wei Wuxian was waiting there.

“I believe you,” he blurted out when Lan Wangji stopped at the door, considering a retreat. “Please, Lan Zhan – just come inside and talk to me, okay? I thought it over after you left and – you’re right. Uncle Jiang is like that, and I only didn’t notice because I’m the one he’s being nice to, but you’re right and we can’t let him treat Jiang Cheng like that.”

Lan Wangji stepped inside and quickly shut the door, glaring at Wei Wuxian.

“You’re right,” Wei Wuxian said, nodding. “We can’t let Jiang Cheng know we’re trying to help; he’ll only get embarrassed.”

Lan Wangji’s shoulders relaxed. No one understood him better than Wei Wuxian, not even Jiang Cheng or Jiang Yanli – not even Lan Xichen, on his regular visits, and Lan Xichen knew everything about him.

“Wei Ying,” he said, and stopped there.

Wei Wuxian grinned at him. “Okay,” he said. “I have a few ideas…”

It wasn’t the first time they’d work together to solve something, and it wouldn’t be the last, either.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #brasslizard

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differentducktectivewasteland · 3 years

Photo

Much like @theflipsiderunes --as a super clingy person--the end of the Swooning Over Stans dating sim left something to be desired for me. I’ve been messing around with continuing the development of Stan during the timeline after the sim, and may have written a monologue that explains another reason (in addition to being kicked out of the house at 18 over a monetary dispute) why Stan has some emotional trauma surrounding the subject of money. I have dozens of headcanons about Stan’s ex-wife Marilyn (all of which are wrong since they apparently weren’t married very long, but we’re just going to ignore that), and most of them involve her being unintentionally emotionally abusive to him. (What can I say? I love creating and healing trauma in my writing.) This is a conversation between the player and Stan over his attempt to spend a little bit of money on the (rather stingy) said player. I’m aware this may not fit Stan’s character perfectly, especially the show version who would never let a single penny go to waste, but this is supposed to take place after some development when he’s learned that the people he loves are more important than the money he has (that he has no idea what to do with now that he’s retired and Stanford’s paying all the bills anyway). It may not be perfectly in character outside my AU, but I still wanted to share it.

(Oh, and yes, I altered some art from the sim. This expression is one of the many I’ve created from the sim’s art. I don’t know how much of the credit goes to me, since I barely changed it, but whatever. We’re just gonna go with it.)

Enjoy the angsty monologue!

"Listen—Kid—I have my reasons, alright?"

"Then tell me. I’ll listen."

He glares at the floor, slowly shrinking under your gaze.

"Fine."

He sighs, his shoulders falling.

"Back when I was dating Marilyn—before we got married—I realized we had something in common. See, I was planning this nice big date for her at this fancy restaurant. I was going to ask her to marry me on that date."

He strokes his ring finger with the thumb on the same hand. His smile is longing, gentle. But it starts to dissolve, falling away to the weight of a miserable recollection.

"But uh, things didn’t… didn’t go so well.

"I took her to the place and as soon as we sat down, she started going on about how I couldn’t afford it. Wouldn’t shut up about it.

“When I finally got her to eat something—and trust me, that took a while—I pulled out the ring and… she yelled at me in front of everyone and stormed out. Said I was stupid for spending that much. Just for once, I wanted to give her somethin’ nice. I wanted to make her happy."

He chuckles, but it comes out cold and devastated.

"But she wouldn’t let me."

He sighs gruffly, placing his elbows on the table and gazing lugubriously out the glass pane to his left.

"For a while, I decided I wouldn’t give anyone anything. I didn’t want them to…"

He shakes his head.

"Marilyn never really let me give her anything at all. I thought no one could be more obsessed with money than me, but she really took the cake."

He shakes his head, a smile forming his lips.

"Sucks for her, though. She wasted what she did have from the divorce on the lottery. S’why she’s living in a trailer now."

His expression fades and he finally looks you in the eye again, a curiosity brimming his eyes. His lips part to speak, but he hesitates, sighing instead.

“Do… you remember when we went to steal that painting?"

You scoff—but just a little, since the somber cloud still hangs over the table. "How could I forget?"

"Well, when you put those gloves on and they fit… the look on your face made me… made me happy. I felt like I gave you something and you… actually gave me something back."

He peers up at you from under the top bar of his lenses, his lopsided smile pushing up his left cheek. For just a fleeting moment, his eyes are filled with a childlike innocence, a love you’ve never seen before. A hope for something you can’t quite grasp. But almost as if a bout of thundering raindrops fall on him, the light in his gaze disappears. He glares sheepishly at the nicks in the table, sighing gruffly.

"And uh… I guess since then I’ve just uh, wanted to feel that again."

#gravity falls #stan pines #gf sim alterations #stan monologue #does this suck?#do people create monologues for characters they love?#i'm kinda really proud of this #GOSH I'M JUST GONNA DO IT IMMA POST IT

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gryffindorkxdraws · 3 years

Video

youtube

JACKUNZEL EXPLANATION in 0X1=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You) by Tomorrow X Together

as a MOA and a jackunzel shipper, i couldn’t help but notice that the song fits them and i can add it to my ship playlist *smashes it in LOL

and the way they keep playing with the words “freeze,” and “thaw,” as if the boy was stuck in a cold and lonely world (JACK?!) until he met a girl who melted it all with her light and warmth (RAPUNZEL??!?)

"The song’s lyrics, which expresses the emotions of a boy who is confident that his love for a special girl he met in this chaotic world is real. The title of the track is an equation representing the story of a boy with a hole (0) in his soul in a world full of zeros (0) and one (1) girl who approaches the boy."

this explanation of the song *HEAD IN HANDS and my mind immediately just went DEAR LORDE ITS JACKUNZEL STFU I’M TAKING IT

so i decided to break down the english lyrics while imagining/explaining the ship mostly in jack’s POV to go with the song

[Intro: Taehyun]

I know I love you [Verse 1: Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Huening Kai] In this world of zero I know you're my one and only In this endless darkness like Oh my god, so holy From the tip of my fingers Everything runs far away My life before you was a mess Couldn't win one round of this chess Oh we

“When Jack Frost was reborn he lost all memory of his previous life and immediately began his adventures of fun and mischief, discovering his powers. The Man in the Moon only ever told him his name, and he quickly discovers no one can see him when he enters a village and is walked through for the first time.”

he was left alone with nothing but questions as soon as he was reborn. and he had to deal with it, along with his loneliness and frustration, all by himself.

for a while at least, until he met the others. but judging from their former opinions and judgements on jack, i doubt that they formed a deep bond with each other before the movie’s current timeline.

just, 300 years?? he had to deal with everything ALONE for 300 YEARS. i’m pretty sure he hides all that negativity behind his mischief and pranks, because what else can he do besides demanding for answers from the man in the moon?

he was going in circles without progress, and he knew it

[Pre-Chorus: Yeonjun, Soobin, Taehyun] From this bottomless pit You're the only (one) shining gold Now I can't stop thinking 'bout you When I'm sinking alone Angel who one day appeared to me Take me away to your hometown I know it's real, I can feel it

but what if...

what if he meets a strange girl with an even stranger hair. and he expected nothing from it. just another curiosity to check out and that was all.

but then she proved him wrong.

with her wonderstruck eyes and excited giggles and suggestions of never ending plans for the two of them that would take them far and wide (after they got through the phase of suspicions and getting hit by a frying pan LOL).

and he’s in shock. lost for words. because holy hell “You can see me? And you even wanna stick around with me??”

[Chorus: Huening Kai, Taehyun] I'm full of problems, love sick No way to go I was fine to die I'm a loser in this game The only (one) rule of this world Save me Take my hand Please use me like a drug (I know I love you)

and everything falls together as they embark on adventures together

with them pushing and pulling each other out of their comfort zones. their trust in each other growing as time goes by. showing the other a world that they never knew of, or maybe they did but they never got to experience it until now. and simply reminding the other to live (directly or not).

just live.

for themselves and no one else.

[Post-Chorus: Seori, Taehyun] Say you love me, say you love me Till the end of the world All or nothing, I want all of you I know I love you Say you love me, say you love me Till the end of the world All or nothing, I give all of you I know I love you

jack is well aware of their differences. that perhaps maybe she's too good for him. that she's definitely someone way out of his league.

and those thoughts brought something lurking in the back of his mind. telling him to prep himself always when the time comes. when rapunzel sees him for who he is and leaves him in disappointment

he’d even tell himself that he wouldn’t blame her if ever she did

[Verse 2: Soobin, Taehyun, Yeonjun]

I'm not going to make it I won't be able to get into heaven I don't belong there No place for me in heaven At the tips of my feet Everything turned pitch black My life before you was trash Could never even light a single match Oh we

but god, he’d do anything for her.

if she asked him to, he’d write her name on the stars for everyone to see. he’d take every bit he can think of to change the tides of her life. he’d freeze everyone who’d go against her. he’d turn the world upside down for her if he has to.

but also, he’d bear himself open to her. he’d let her in his secret world that hasn’t seen light for years. he’d trust her with his delicate heart, something he made sure was kept hidden from everyone all the time.

just one word from her and he’d do it.

[Pre-Chorus: Beomgyu, Soobin, Taehyun] In this world of ice You're the only (one) shining glow Now I can't stop thinking 'bout you When I'm sinking alone But angel who somehow appeared to me Take me away to your hometown I know it's real, I can feel it

and rapunzel doesn’t know it. not yet at least. about how much she meant to him. their shared laughter. their light hearted banters. their friendship. their connection. everything

while jack teases her a lot to either mess with her or get a reaction from her, he adores her dearly. treasures her wholeheartedly. and maybe even he wasn’t aware of it at first. after all, it grew slowly, surely, dancing along with them in the wind

once he caught up with his heart, he knew without a doubt that it’s real and no one else can tell him otherwise

jack rises with the moon. with a side hidden from the world. wearing a mask to show only what he wants to be shown. bottling things up and leaving them in the dark corners, wishing they’d go away. but they don’t

and rapunzel rises with the sun. bright and full of honesty. unafraid to face the world with her heart on her sleeves. running in full speed. reaching out for her dreams and not even thinking of giving up as a choice.

or at least that’s how he sees it. this poor boy who didn’t have as much confidence from the start

[Bridge: Soobin, Yeonjun] The hole in my soul begins to mend Frigid air starts to thaw In this world of zero I found warmth that's you Take all of me Girl, I need you

this alone

i don’t need to explain it

it screams jackunzel all over

[Chorus: Huening Kai, Taehyun] I'm full of problems, love sick (Oh) No way to go I was fine to die (Oh) I'm a loser in this game (Game) The only (one) rule of this world Save me Take my hand Please use me like a drug (I know I love you)

but while jack was caught up in all that

rapunzel. i can see her telling him that if she’s the sun who lights up his life full of zeros, then he’s her moon who brightens her life even in the darkest hours

that if he keeps bringing himself down, then she’ll slap him out of it

because they both matter

in their own ways

to each other and to everyone else

and she’d defend him with all her might against those who think otherwise

[Post-Chorus: Seori, Huening Kai, Taehyun] Say you love me, say you love me Till the end of the world (I love you) All or nothing, I want all of you I know I love you (You) Say you love me, say you love me Till the end of the world (Till the end of the world) All or nothing, I give all of you I know I love you

I JUST LOVE JACKUNZEL AND TXT LET ME HAVE THIS *SHAKES

#jackunzel #rotbtd #rise of the brave tangled dragon #the big four #jack frost and rapunzel #jack frost #rapunzel #rapunzel corona #video #txt #tomorrow x together #my writing

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violetwolfraven · 3 years

Note

Prompt: "You don't have to hide your tears from me" for Redfinch

Mkay! Angst time! Let’s go!! I’m writing this the week after Valentine’s Day!! Woohoo!!

Anyway this takes pre-canon. So... spoiler alert they do get together later along this timeline, but right now it’s angsty and the boys aren’t together yet.

Tw: mentioned abusive parenting, toxic masculinity, unrequited crush.

...

Finch didn’t really understand blood ties. The concept of owing something to your biological family the way some of the other boys seemed to.

He didn’t understand why Albert, Elmer, and Buttons kept going back to their families even though all three of them always came back tired and usually a bit ticked off at best, genuinely upset at worst.

But then again, Finch didn’t remember his family beyond his father’s fists and his mother’s voice yelling at him. He’d run away when he was 6 and never looked back, and now he only thought of them when he was working through a nightmare or an old scar twinged in the cold weather.

The newsies weren’t exactly a family, he guessed, considering most of them weren’t blood, but they were like one. Better than most families, in some ways, with how Jack and Crutchie took care of the others and though sometimes jokes were at friends’ expense, it was never in a mean way. They were ride or die for each other.

Maybe that was what a family was supposed to be, but Finch knew he’d never seen blood family that was like that. He sure knew that the only people he was ride or die for were the ones he’d chosen.

He really hated seeing the people he’d chosen hurting. Especially when it was because of their so called ‘families.’

He hated seeing when Elmer came back from his parents’ house reserved and quiet, acting surprised when his friends actually paid attention to him, and he hated how exhausted Buttons always was, practically falling asleep on his feet.

But most of all, he hated how defensive and angry Albert always was when he came home from his dad’s house. How he acted for a good couple days afterwards, like any emotion other than anger was weakness.

This morning seemed to be an especially bad day, and everyone could see it. Even Wiesel and the Delanceys wisely avoided antagonizing him too much, knowing by the look in his eyes how bad of an idea it would be to mess with him today. The other newsies were giving him space, and honestly, the fact that they were letting him on the streets today at all was a little questionable.

Finch knew Albert. He knew how that boy’s words could be just as dangerous as his fists, and could get him into more trouble. It was useful sometimes, Albert’s uncanny ability to say exactly the right thing to start a fight. It was good for causing distractions if they were running from someone or to divert away from a topic he or a friend didn’t want to talk about. Finch actually was impressed with how he could always do that without fail.

But he really didn’t feel like helping his friend escape the Refuge again. Not today.

So, after a morning of watching him seethe with anger over... something involving his dad and brothers, Finch pulled him aside in an alley, putting his papes down on a crate and blocking the way out to keep Albert from leaving.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do ya mean ‘what’s wrong?’ Nothin’s wrong. I’m fine.”

Albert tried to shove past him, clearly getting more annoyed when he didn’t let him.

“Move.”

“No,” Finch crossed his arms, “Not till you tell me what’s wrong.”

“We’re gonna miss the mornin’ rush cause you’s seein’ things,” Albert urged, trying to escape again, “Nothin’s wrong, Finch. Move.”

“No.”

“Move!”

“No.”

“Just cause you’s sweet on me don’t mean you gotta care ‘bout my problems,” Albert hissed.

Well, that was... unexpected.

Finch still didn’t know how Albert had even found out about his crush—he hadn’t bothered to ask how—but since that time a month ago where Al tried to kiss him and Finch made it clear that he wouldn’t settle for being his rebound guy, they hadn’t spoken of anything involving that. He was pretty sure Albert had been being his friend as a way to make that incident’s thoughtlessness up to him, but neither of them had actually acknowledged that conversation happened.

Bringing it up now was a dick move. Especially considering Finch could tell Albert was still hurting over Race, because he was still in love with him, because of course he was because Finch’s luck was shit.

Well, at least it looked like it was dawning on Albert—albeit slowly—how much of a dick move that was.

“I shouldn’ta said that. Sorry. Still, move.”

Finch let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and shook his head, “No.”

“Please?”

He was a little surprised to hear him say that, but he still refused to move.

“No,” he insisted. “No, cause I know what you’re gonna do if I let ya leave this alley without talkin’. You’ll just bottle it up like ya always do, and then eventually you’ll snap on somebody and pretend you’re mad when you’re actually scared or sad. And besides the fact that you can’t last like that—it ain’t healthy—that ain’t fair to the others and I’d rather it be me you yell at than one of them.”

Albert scoffed, “I do not bottle—“

“Yes, you do,” Finch interrupted, “And it used to be Race who made ya let it out before ya snapped on someone who couldn’t handle it, but you and him don’t talk no more lately for obvious reasons, so I guess it’s gotta be me.”

It hurt that Albert didn’t trust him enough to talk the way everyone knew he used to with Race, but Finch didn’t let it show. He knew firsthand how secrets could burn holes in you. He himself confided in Henry, Tommy Boy, and Sniper when he needed someone to talk to. And he would like to be able to confide in Albert someday, but...

Trust went both ways. Admittedly, he had trouble with trust some days, so maybe it wasn’t fair that he was asking Albert to trust him.

Maybe he needed to give a little to show it was okay.

“Look, I... I know what it’s like to get hurt by somebody who’s supposed to care ‘bout you,” he admitted, “My mom and pop weren’t exactly... they... I know what I went through ain’t the same as what’s goin’ on with you now, but I’m only gonna ask you one more time: what’s wrong?”

Albert was still staring him down like he thought he could get him to back out, but Finch did see a flicker of surprise at the little piece of his past he’d confessed.

Nobody in Manhattan knew his past. He’d made sure he left all that behind in Flushing. He was sure plenty of the fellas—Albert included—had guessed the general idea, but no matter how bad the nightmares got some times of the year, Finch always tried to focus on just the right now’s problems.

He had that in common with Tommy Boy, Henry, and Sniper. Their ‘just the four of them’ talks always danced around what they were actually upset about, because openly talking about families or parents or home lives, past or present, was just too painful. That was why they gravitated to each other. Because they were the only ones who could figure out what the others meant by what they actually said. Sure, Jack took care of everybody, but he was too busy with taking care of the whole damn borough to have time to figure out their mind games. Crutchie was still trying, but he had duties as one of Manhattan’s seconds, too. Everybody else had either given up or didn’t care enough to try in the first place.

Albert knew all that. Or... he knew how much Finch was letting down his guard, openly telling him even that little.

He gave up on trying to make him back down and looked at the ground with an angry huff.

“It don’t matter, okay? Nothin’ Ben and John ain’t said to me before.”

“So it’s not a problem with your dad?” Finch asked, relieved. Sure, Albert’s brothers were technically adults, but they weren’t a big threat.

He scoffed, “No, of course not. Dad’d have to actually look at me to give me problems. Which he don’t. Practically ever. I remind him too much of Mom, as if that’s my fuckin’ fault.”

The anger in his voice was dripping with sadness, and it broke Finch’s heart. Albert didn’t deserve that.

But that was more of a long-term problem. Right now, it wasn’t what he was most upset about.

“So... Ben and John?”

“Oh, yeah,” Albert said sarcastically, “Y’know, they both had their first sweethearts by the time they was my age, so it’s hilarious to dump on how Albert’s gonna die alone. John’s gonna marry Thea, so it’s a great time to laugh ‘bout me not havin’ anyone to bring to the wedding like how Ben’s got Elizabeth. And it’s all in good fun, so I’m too goddamn defensive for gettin’ mad about it! Yeah, I’m the irrational one despite how I ain’t the one who started it!”

If he was this upset about a few little jabs from his brothers, that meant it wasn’t actually about them at all, and Finch probably should have tried to make him talk before now.

If the heartbreak he was trying to hide by keeping his face turned to the dirt was any indication, this was about Race. And that stung a bit, but it was clearly still burning at Albert.

Finch could deal with his own unreturned feelings. Sure, it hurt, but it was nothing he hadn’t been feeling for months. And he’d gotten rejected before, so it wasn’t anything new.

But Albert had never felt this before. He was volatile and emotional and he didn’t know how to express it any way but with anger because that was how he’d been raised. To his credit, he’d tried to push the others away, knowing his own tendency to lash out, but Finch hadn’t let him push him away.

Finch prided himself on his ability to read people, so he could tell exactly how gone Albert had been over Race. He could tell how much that was hurting him now, how much it was tearing him apart, and...

And Albert was crying.

“Al—“

“Shut up,” Albert snapped, even though his voice trembled.

Three years since he’d come to Manhattan. Finch had seen most of his friends cry in that time, but not Albert.

Admittedly... he wasn’t sure what to do. The others usually gave him a sign whether to leave them alone or try to comfort them, but the thing about Albert was that he craved affection but would never be caught dead admitting it. He hated letting anyone see him as anything other as unshakable even if he was on the verge of collapse.

They were just standing there in that alleyway, a couple feet apart, Albert staring hard at the ground as his shoulders shook and tears dripped off his face and Finch frozen, no clue what to do.

“Al,” he said hesitantly, “It’s okay to cry.”

“No. It ain’t right for a boy.”

“Really?” Finch risked taking a step closer, reaching out a hand slowly.

Albert clearly saw him, but didn’t back away or stop him, allowing Finch put a comforting hand on his arm.

“That ain’t what you told me,” he pointed out, “That time when I woke ya up with a nightmare. You just hugged me till I could breathe again.”

“That was different,” Albert shot back, finally looking back up to look him in the eyes, “You was hurtin’.”

“And you’re not hurtin’ now? Al, look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not breakin’ up inside.”

He didn’t. Or... couldn’t.

“Albert,” Finch said quietly, “You don’t have to hide your tears from me.”

He still looked like he wanted to hide them, but instead, he leaned forward, kind of head-butting Finch in the shoulder except he left his face there, his tears soaking through the fabric.

Finch would be lying if he said that his heart didn’t skip a beat at the contact but he shook it off, focusing on how that was a pretty clear signal that this was okay.

“It’s okay, Al,” Finch whispered, wrapping his arms around him.

He didn’t say that it would get better or that Albert would find someone else who’d love him back. He knew that saying those things didn’t make heartbreak any better.

Just being there, being a friend, being a shoulder to cry on, was better for now.

#newsies #redfinch #albert dasilva #finch cortes #angst #toxic masculinity tw #abusive parents tw #unrequited crush tw #violet’s writing

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confusedgoldenflower · 3 years

Text

There is No Glorious Purpose

DISCLAIMER: This is a Loki Show re-write which means I do not own the original show but some direct quotes will be used, it will not align perfectly with the cannon of the original show, and it will also be written the way I think it should have gone seeing as it was 2012 Loki who just went through Thor 1, Thanos' clutches and Avengers 1.

This is not a Loki/Sylvie or Loki-cest fic.

If you don't like, then please hit that back button and have a nice day. You don't have to agree with me, but I do expect common human decency.

For anyone remaining, please enjoy!

Chapter 1: Blue Time and Space

“Friend, I think there’s been a mistake; I am Loki of Asgard and you will regret this. I am burdened with glorious purpose, I stand at the right hand of Thanos.” The words were bitter in his mouth but then again, so was the bile that he dry-heaved up during his reconditioning.

“Yeah, yeah, come on.” B-15 waved it off, at least the letters on the helmet was the only thing pertaining to the person’s identity after they came through the yellow, rectangular prism. He watched her closely as they neared, fists clenched and fully aware of how far away the Tesseract had ended up. The cerebral recalibration the Hulk so kindly dealt him did nothing to deter him from his secret goal.

“What infinity stone conjured that?”

B-15 stopped, their own subordinates armed but waiting for their leader’s response. Then she laughed.

“No, no, it’s from the TemPad.”

“Pardon?”

“You’ll see soon enough, now, come on, I don’t wanna have to give the whole spiel again.” B-15 came at him. The baton-like weapon she wielded hurt. But he was Asguardian. He also had use of his magic now with the restraints in ruins. Twin daggers parried the baton thereafter. He came close to overwhelming her more than a few times but her subordinates always stepped in.

“Agh!” It was humiliating to be overpowered by not only a simple blow to his back but also to admit it.

B-15 smiled down at him, “let’s go, and reset th-.”

“Don’t touch that!” The soldier picking up the Tesseract and staring at it like a confused child paid him no mind.

“Ok, Variant, let’s go.” B-15 slapped something on his neck, his body involuntarily jumped the opposite way. He was dragged out of the sand and towards another yellow rectangular prism. Another soldier grabbed something that resembled an old Midguardian lantern. They passed behind him and he could not manage to twist his neck enough to watch them. Then yellow.

He involuntarily gasped at the non-consensual setting change, pain flaring in a memory. A shriveled stomach flipped. But… His brows furrowed as he soundlessly analysed himself and his sadir in respect to the surroundings. I can’t feel him… I can’t hear him.

The two soldiers carrying him wasted no time in dragging him across the floor of the large room. It too reminded him of past Midguardian styles…. But he didn’t miss the Tesseract being turned to the man behind the desk.

“Where is this? Where are you taking me?”

B-15 laughed from in front of him, “your trial, Variant.”

“Why, and what is that anyway?”

Next thing he knew, he was pushed into a room with a robot, “hello?” It said something before lasering his clothes off. He gaped in horror as his fine Aguardian leather was destroyed and he was left there in the nude. The robot smiled at him in some sort of sadistic glee as his scars and healing wounds were flaunted like war-torn cadavers against his unusually pale skin. The floor disappeared.

He landed. He folded. He panted.

“Please sign this.”

His head whipped up to the man he could barely see over the stack of paperwork on the desk. A gulp, a deep breath and Loki was the vision of regal honor. Silently, he noted that he had somehow been clothed and thanked whatever power granted him that.

“What is this?”

The man looked at him with an exhausted droll stare, “everything you have ever said.” He grabbed a paper off the printer and laid it on top. Loki nodded slightly, then signed. The world blurred.

“Please step through.”

“Pardon?” The room was slow to come into focus.

“Jotnar, please step through.” Jotnar? He hadn’t noticed his glamour having failed him. The sedir he had so ardently loved and utilized and developed was a small, twisted ball in his center. He was locked in a cage.

“Wha--how…?”

“Magic is no good in the TVA, now please, step through.”

A red-eyed stare remained on the agent as Loki stepped through the unconnected threshold. Nothing happened. Another bout of vertigo and he was being told and none-too-kindly to take a number.

“For what, what is all this?” His blue hands gesticulated some as he addressed the man.

“Take. A. Number.”

Loki grit his teeth but he stepped to the small machine attached to the stakes cordoning off where the line was. He stepped into that small, simple maze. It was another large room stylized after the later American, Midguardian twentieth century. Even scrapers looked better as they drifted in the expanse of space. He slowly meandered up towards the window behind a very loud human.

“My dad is on the board of Goldman Sachs! One call and your whole job is privatized! What even is the ticket for, huh--aaaahhhhhggg!” Said human leapt out of his skin and screamed when he caught sight of the large blue alien. Red eyes merely gazed down at him without much agency.

“Howdy, welcome to the Time Variance Authority,” the bulbous screens lit up and an American, Midguardian southern drawl spoke happily through the speakers. Loki turned his attention to the screens as something finally began explaining things though his entire being made the unanimous decision that he did not like the talking orange clock.

“I'm Miss Minutes, and it's my job to catch you up before you stand trial for your crimes. So let's not waste another minute. Settle in, sharpen your pencils, and check this out. Long ago, there was a vast multiversal war. Countless unique timelines battled each other for supremacy, nearly resulting in the total destruction of...well, everything. But then, the all-knowing Time-Keepers emerged, bringing peace by reorganizing the multiverse into a single timeline, the Sacred Timeline. Now, the Time-Keepers protect and preserve the proper flow of time for everyone and everything. But sometimes, people like you veer off the path the Time-Keepers created. We call those Variants. Maybe you started an uprising, or were just late for work. Whatever it was, stepping off your path created a nexus event, which, left unchecked, could branch off into madness, leading to another multiversal war. But, don't worry, to make sure that doesn't happen, the Time-Keepers created the TVA and all its incredible workers. The TVA has stepped in to fix your mistake and set time back on its predetermined path. Now that your actions have left you without a place on the timeline, you must stand trial for your offenses. So sit tight, and we'll get you in front of a judge in no time. Just make sure you have your ticket, and you'll be seen by the next available attendant. For all time.”

The workers responded to the screen, “always.”

Out of one dark order and into another, Loki thought and forced down rising bile.

“--Hey, I asked for a ticket and he didn’t give me one! I--ahhhh!....” The loud human was hit with the shining, golden end of one of those batons and literally melted into nothingness. Loki clutched the ticket between his fingers tighter.

“Next.”

He stepped up to the window and offered up the small scrap of paper. The next while found him bound in chains yet again. He knew a Midguardian courtroom when he saw one, and the one he was shoved into was more like a morgue.

“Next case, please,” the judge said from her elevated chair, heads above anyone else, but below three ugly “modern art” heads. How could it be that he could even miss Thanos’ disgusting chin?

“Laufeyson. Variant L1130, AKA Loki Laufeyson, is charged with sequence violation 7-20-89. How do you plead?” She continued. Laufeyson, how preposterous, it sparked an itch to kill the Jotnar king again.

“Madam,” he began with all his silver tongue, “a god does not plead.”

“Are you guilty or not guilty, sir?” She was completely unfazed by his appearance, much like her underlings.

He thought for a moment, “guilty of some offense against this Sacred Timeline of yours? Absolutely not. You must have the wrong culprit.”

A brow raised at him, “oh, really? And who should we have?”

“The Avengers, I suspect. I came into possession of the Tesseract because they traveled through time--undoubtedly in some desperate play to avoid my ascent as God Ki--....” He couldn’t feel Thanos anymore, so what was the point? Wasn’t… he… free?

“That’s quite an accusation.”

“The cologne of two Iron Morta--er, Tony Starks is quite difficult to miss. They are your Time Criminals.” He opened his mouth again to bargain; to survive but….

“We’re not here to talk about the Avengers.”

“No?”

“No. That was supposed to happen, you escaping was not.”

“Pardon? According to whom?”

“The Time Keepers.”

“Ah… the three faces behind you, I presume? Do they happen to be open for conference?”

“No, they’re quite busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Dictating the proper flow of time.”

“So then, what do you do, Madam?”

“Dictate the proper flow of time according to their dictations. How do you plead?”

The silver tongue was heavy. His back sent shocks of pain through him especially after the re-injuring the soldiers dealt. Chains often found their way around his wrists and never had it hurt so much as in the last year. He closed his eyes. He may have been able to assemble those Midguardian fools the way he had intended, the time traveling proved that, but what else was left for him? Just more fire, and lies, and deceit. I had so wanted to see Asguard again.

“The court finds you guilty, and I sentence you to be reset. Next case, please!”

“I raise an objection!” Loki opened his eyes at the interruption as the judge sighs.

“You may approach the bench.”

“Hey, there, blue-raspberry.” The older human man made a shy sort of wave motion at Loki as he passed with a folder under his arm.

“If you're thinking what I think you are, it's a bad idea,” the judge addressed the man.

“Okay, I'm just chasing a hunch.”

“Anything goes sideways, it's on you.”

“Okay. I feel like I'm always looking up to you. I like it. It's appropriate.” Loki knew when he was witnessing groveling. Norns knew he had to do it enough times in his life just to save his brother’s skin.

“Who are you?” He asked after the judge permitted Loki’s custody to the newcomer. Said agent was walking Loki around some halls. Vertigo viscously hit when he tried to remember every twist and turn.

“Oh, I’m Agent Mobius, by the way,” Mobius cheerily said as he shuffled the two into an elevator.

“And you’re not taking me someplace to ‘reset’ me?”

“No, no, no, that was the place you just were. Ravon--I mean Judge Renslayer can be pretty brutal, but I’m just taking you some place to talk.”

“To talk?” His brow raised.

Mobius looked up at his blue stature without a care in the world, “yeah, and we know you love to talk. Talkie-talkie.” A hand mimed a moving mouth. His brows lowered into a slight scowl.

“We seem to have different understandings of my persons.”

“Well, I am an expert on Lokis.”

“... Loki-s?”

“Yeah. You’ll catch up.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Hard to tell, time moves differently here in the TVA.”

He was led out again and followed the human past several large openings in the wall of the narrow hallway that lead down into double-doored rooms. One, he couldn’t help but step towards. Then found himself outside of the elevator again.

“Ope, can’t do that, sorry.”

He stared at Mobius who was now several yards away, “magic and time works differently here.”

“Oh, it’s not magic,” Mobius held up a small device in his fingers, “it’s science.”

“Magic is science.” Loki stated plainly as he walked towards what he assumed Mobius was indicating as the destination, back straight.

“Haha, ok, Loki.” The agent opened the door for him. He nodded in thanks as was polite.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” Mobius stripped him of his chains and cuffs, “have a seat.”

Slowly, he did as asked. He could have wept as his back was finally rested.

“Not big on trust, are you?” Mobius asked as he snapped a sodapop can open. He rejected a second that was offered to him by the agent.

“Well?”

“Trust is a twisted road.”

“Haha, nice one, let’s make that one into a button.” Mobius began fiddling with a machine on the table they sat at in the middle of the darkened room.

“If the TVA overseas all of time and space, then how have I never heard of you before?”

“‘Cause you never needed to. You’ve always lived within your set path; the story you’re meant to play a part in.”

“I live within the path and story of my choosing,” Loki responded bitterly on impulse.

Mobius laughed again, “well, there’s the lie, Loki, it’s not your story.” Mobius looked him in the eye as the machine projected an image onto the blank wall.

“So I think we could start with a little cooperation, hm? I specialize in the pursuit of dangerous variants--particularly dangerous ones unlike you. I’ve got some questions for you, and if you answer them honestly, then maybe I can give you something you want. You wanna get outta here right? So, we’ll start there. Should you get out, what will you do?”

Would Thanos know? Of course Thanos would know…. Of course Thanos would come after him for deserting….

“Take over Midguard, AKA Earth?” Mobius interrupted the silence, “finish what you started maybe? Be king?”

The simple answer slipped off his tongue, “I was born to be a king.”

“Happily ever after then? A nice feather in your cap?”

“Then the Nine Realms. Then all of space.”

“Ooooh, ‘Loki, King of Space,’ haven’t heard that one before.”

“Mock me if you dare.”

Mobius chuckled again, “I’m not. Honestly, I’m a fan; your biggest. I guess I’m just curious why someone with such range would settle for just ruling whether it be Presidential or Kingly.”

“... The first and most oppressive lie was that of freedom, and someone will always be above while masses lie below.”

“How does that one go?” Mobius had his nose in his paperwork.

“For nearly every living thing, choice breeds shame and uncertainty and regret. There's a fork in every road, yet the wrong path always taken.”

“Good. Yeah. You said ‘nearly every living thing,’ so I'm guessing you don't fall into that category?”

“All of us fall into some category.”

“Oh, riddles. Love that. Anyway, a sampling of your greatest hits.”

The machine whirled and he was met again with the annoying Midguardian heroes and his brother after they bested him in New York, “if it’s all the same to you… I’ll have that drink now.”

“That just happened,” he declared.

“It's funny, for someone born to rule, you sure do lose a lot. You might even say it's in your nature.”

“The last person who said that to me did not live long enough to regret it.”

“Phil Coulson?” The clip played and Thor’s “no!” rang out.

“Didn’t the Avengers come together to literally avenge him by defeating you?”

Loki kept his face schooled diplomatically blank against the small bit of triumph he felt rising. Yes, they had come together, a force to be reckoned with especially after Loki’s clever engineering of their test-run.

“Little solace for a dead man,” he said instead.

“Do you enjoy hurting people? Making them feel small? Making them feel afraid? Making them feel little?” Mobius looked at him with an expression all too familiar from a certain one-eyed Aesir.

“Your little games won’t work on me.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I think--.”

“I know what I am.”

“A murderer?”

“A liberator.” The memory of the Other’s lightning bolt sent a shock wave through his system. He was removed from them, but he could always be put back.

“Of eyeballs maybe,” Mobius scoffed and played the clip.

“Just look at that smile, you’re enjoying it.”

Yet another clip rolled and a wealthy crowd’s screams of horror rang out. He was the center of attention. No one in that moment had attention above him… but that blue still glinted in his emerald eyes.

“Did you enjoy hurting them?”

“I don’t have to play this game; I’m a god, you dull creature.”

“Of mischief? Right… I really see that shining through.”

“No, I don’t suppose you would.”

Mobius sighed, “let’s talk about your escapes.”

“You're really good at doing awful things, and then just getting away. This is one of my favorites.”

A plane’s PA system from the 1970’s dinged, “from the flight deck, Captain William A. Scott, Northwest Orient Airlines 305, on schedule to land in Seattle. Flight time today, approximately….”

The projection showed him from an outsider’s perspective on a plane, well dressed with his hair slicked back and shades covering his eyes. His past self spoke to the flight attendant.

“Bourbon and soda?”

“Thank you,” past Loki gladly accepted the drink.

“Absolutely. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”

“I suppose we'll find out, won't we?” A note was handed off to her and she chuckled only in social politeness. A clear misunderstanding between them.

“Uh, Miss?”

“Yes, Mr. Cooper?”

“You might want to take a look at that note,” past Loki leaned forward and whispered, looking the woman in the eye over his sunglasses, “I have a bomb.” Her smile dropped. The scene skipped to when he had emptied the plane of all other passengers and was back in the air strapping a parachute to himself.

“Oh, this is the good part,” Mobius whispered.

“See you again someday,” past Loki says, still politely as he accepts the bag of $200,00 USD from the unnerved flight attendant. He had often wondered how she had recovered from the stupid, oafish ploy; he did his best not to harm anyone but he understood how it could have been quite the scare.

Past Loki turned and walked toward the tail of the plane, “brother, Heimdall, you better be ready.” He mumbleed before jumping out and getting collected by the Bifrost.

“I can't believe you were D.B. Cooper. Come on!” Mobius moved in his seat in a way reminiscent of an excited toddler.

“I was young, and I lost a bet to Thor. Where was the TVA when I was meddling with these affairs of men?”

“We were right there with you, just surfing that Sacred Timeline. So anyway, escapes… and a little psychobabble. What is it you think you’re really running from?”

He held Mobius’ stare. Time Keeper’s approval or lackthereof seemed utterly arbitrary, and the agent’s “fan-ing” of him lacking.

“Enough of this nonsense--.” Loki moved to stand but was hit yet again by vertigo and back in the chair.

“Back in your cage. See? I can play the heavy keys too.” Mobius tapped a finger on his own neck.

“What is it that you actually want?”

“I want you to be honest about why you do what you do.”

“This,” Loki motioned a blue arm towards the projection, “means you have seen my life, yes?”

“Yup. Back and forward, and variant and not. I’ve seen it all.”

“Then you must already know.”

“All I seek is a deeper understanding of the fearsome God of Mischief. What makes Loki tick?”

“Yet you have seen my life and all variations of it.”

“I wanna hear it from the ol’ horse’s mouth.”

“The satisfaction of my own ends,” he finally settled. “Is this your psychobabble? You, the great arbiters of power in the universe.”

Mobius nodded, “yup, we are!”

“Yet my path, my story and my actions are not my own? A semblance of free will belongs to every creature.”

“Hahaha, good one buddy. Look, this one’ll fire you up.” Loki stamped out the pain he had only otherwise felt when he was dropped from the Rainbow Bridge. He stamped down it all. And oh, it was easy. Simple. It was his simpler state of being.

The projection changed to Stuttgart and the projection-surrounded square of kneeling people, “the bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power….”

“Precisely. I was... I am on the verge of acquiring everything I am owed, and when I do, it will be because I did it. Not because it was supposed to happen. Or because you or the Time Variance Authority permitted me to. Honestly, you are pathetic. You are an irrelevance. A detour. A footnote to my ascent.”

Mobius giggled and scoffed, “you done? You’re gonna start taking things seriously.”

His body tensed. But all that happened was a twist of a wrist and the projection changing. He was faced with himself, bound and chained in Asguardian restraints with his glamor intact and cheekily knocking his ankles together to fill the hall of the All Father with the ringing of the metal clanging together.

“If you hadn't picked up the Tesseract, you would have been taken to a cell on Asgard.” Mobius informed him.

“Loki,” a familiar honey voice said in the ringing silence.

This future Loki addressed the woman in beautiful clothes, “hello, Mother. Have I made you proud?”

Her face stayed grave as he continued with undetected fake cheerfulness, “please, don't make this worse.”

“This is the future?” Loki asked.

“Yup, like you mighta picked up, the TVA doesn’t just know your past, we know your whole life as it’s meant to be. Think of it as comforting.” Loki grimaced at that. Comfort? He did not know such a thing. The scene skipped and he recognised the dungeons.

“And am I not your mother?” A projection of his mother asked.

Future Loki chuckled bitterly, “no, you’re not.” Loki felt the need to claw off the blue skin.

“Hmm,” his mother responded, “always so perceptive to everyone but yourself.”

“And then the Dark Elves attack the palace, and you think you send them to Thor.” Mobius chimed again.

“You might wanna take the stairs to the left.” Future Loki says as most other prisoners are set free.

“But instead, you send them….” The image skips again and it’s to Frigga in the grasp of the hellish looking Dark Elf.

“I will never tell.” She declares before she is brutally stabbed and fades. Loki jumps up but only goes through the projection. He can’t help her. No, no, no, no. Another tick. Just another trick like all those in the last year! He would never do such a thing. He loved her.

“You lead them right to her.”

But why would he do that? He was spiteful but-.... No, the elf. Think, Loki, think! Ah, yes, the Aether must have been helping them and changed them to that form. But why Asgard? Why Frigga?!

“You’re lying,” he pants, “what led to this!? Where is she!? Do you have her?!”

“It is true. That's the proper flow of time, and it happens again and again and again because it's supposed to, because it has to! The TVA makes sure of it. And you did this to your own mother, Loki! What kind of monster does that?”

“I’m not a monster!” He shrieks, voice cracking. A chair slams into the wall. He does his best to compose himself but his breathing and heart rates are all still erratic.

“What led to this?” He motioned to the agent then the world blurs to the projected image of her dead face. Fresh pain spikes his back.

“Oops, sorry, only loops you, not the furniture. Now, why don’t you tell me, do you enjoy hurting people? Do you enjoy killing? Were you about to kill me like you killed your mother?”

He fixed red eyes on the blond nuisance, “I wouldn’t hurt her!” The stinging tears obstruct his vision, but he’s too prideful to wipe his eyes--or the society he had been raised by was.

The human met his hateful gaze, “you weren't born to be king, Loki. You were born to cause pain and suffering and death. That's how it is, that's how it was, that's how it will be. All so that others can achieve their best versions of themselves.”

Loki’s grimace was translated through his conflicted heart into an almost silent sobbing scream. A chitauri screeched as the projection showed the Midguardian protection force he had pissed off enough to coalesce.

But he wouldn’t do that to her… he wouldn’t… he couldn’t….

“What are you doing?” Loki barely registers the voice as B-15.

“My job. Is it yours to interrupt?” Mobius responds as Loki is still frozen staring at the wall, not even seeing the projection anymore.

“We have a situation.”

“Gah, there's always a situation. Don't go anywhere. And it was just getting good. Spirited!”

The doors closed.

Mother, I need to find her!

Escaping the room was easier than expected and the maze did nothing to deter his frantic heart.

“Hey,” he ducked down behind the desk the agent from earlier was manning.

“Hey, I know you. You’re the criminal with the blue box.”

“Shh,” he dragged the other down, “what’s your name?”

“Casey.”

“Give me the Tesseract back or I’ll gut you like a fish, Casey.”

“What’s a fish?”

“H-how do you not know what a fish is?”

“I’ve lived my entire life behind a desk, and I’d like to know what I’m being threatened with before I comply.”

“Do you not eat--death, Casey, violent and painful death.”

“Okay, okay, I comply, I comply, jeez.”

Casey leaned forward and pulled open a drawer of a moveable table, “this it?”

“Wha… Infinity Stones?” The stones, mostly green Time and red Aether or Reality, were jumbled together in the small space.

“Oh, actually, we get a lot of those. Yeah, some of the guys use them as paper weights.”

“The greatest power in the universe and you have them carelessly thrown about?”

“Well, we actually are outside of the universe AKA the Sacred Timeline. Pretty neat, right?” Casey’s musings as he stood up and presented another bulbous screen hanging from the ceiling were ignored as Loki closed his blue hand around the Tesseract. It was dim. So, so dim and dull and…. Lifeless. His jaw hung open.

An elevator dinged, “oh, you almost hit me, that’s so messed up!” Loki clicked the button and returned to the small room. Slowly, he pulled himself off of the floor, set the Tesseract down on the table and twisted the dial.

“Your birthright was to die!...” Future Odin gave future bound Loki a sadistic smile, “as a child, cast out into a frozen rock. If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now to hate me.”

“If I had not fully asked for true mercy, I’d just say swing it. It’s not that I don’t love our little talks, it’s just, I don’t love them.” He found himself muttering along with his near-future self.

“Frigga is the only reason you are still alive and you will never see her again. You will spend the rest of your years in the dungeon.” He moved back with his shackled projection. That was too far, even for Odin. A flash of a red cape and eyepatched face looking down and telling him “no” passed in front of his eyes. His finger rolled on the dial.

“I love you, my sons. Remember this place. Home….” Future Odin told both Thor and him as he disappeared into energy from the cliff Loki was fairly sure belonged to Midguard. A breath caught. What… how… could it be?

It skipped forward again, “Loki, I thought the world of you, I thought we were going to fight side by side forever.” Future Thor with shorn hair and different clothes regarded future Loki--actually regarded him. Had he died? What sort of trickery could this be? He gulped around the hope in his throat.

“Maybe you're not so bad after all, brother. Maybe not…. Thank you. If you were here, I might even give you a hug.” An eyepatched Thor smiled at his future, blue leather clad self as a glass liquor stopper was thrown.

His future self caught it, “I’m here.” He smiled at the sight, that’s all I ever wanted… to be your equal, brother. He sniffled.

His life skipped forward again, “undying? You should choose your words more carefully.” Blue features immediately smoothed out and drooped in horror at the site of the purple titan. A golden gauntlet endued with infinity stones closed around his neck. His future self writhed in the air.

“You will… never… be a… god!” He flinched at the cracking of his own neck, his future self’s body falling limp instantly. No! He wouldn’t let himself die to him! He watched helplessly as his future self’s body was dropped while Thor screamed. The power stone’s magic broke up the spaceship as Thor wept over him. Purple enveloped the screen and then “END FILE.”

“Hah… hah… hah… hehehehe,” his lungs spasmed.

“Glorious purpose,” Loki sneered to no one. He collapsed gripping the Tesseract.

“Loki?... Nowhere left to run.”

“I know. Will you be ‘resetting’ or otherwise doing away with me now?” He stared into the dull blue depths of the Space Stone’s container rather than bothering to look up at the human. There wasn’t an answer.

“I am tired, Mobius.”

Knees popped as the other slowly knelt by him, “listen, I can’t offer you salvation, but maybe I can offer you something better. A fugitive Variant’s been killing our minutemen.”

“So why me?”

“The Variant we’re hunting is, well, you.”

He lifted his head, “pardon?”

#Loki #loki series #loki show #loki spoilers #Loki Show Rewrite #loki series rewrite project #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #Cannon non-compliant

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elizaisthetruehero · 3 years

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Singing Like a Bird 'Bout It Now Chapter 1

So, I started writing another Eureka fic. Even though I have a WIP that isn't finished yet. What's probably going to happen is I'll get stuck on one and then switch to working on the other to beat procrastination. That's the plan anyway.

But here's the AO3 Link, that I posted there last night, and forgot to put here and on FF.Net. I'm doing FF.net because Eureka is an older fandom, and I think there's a couple people there who never made the switch.

Summary: Jo rushes into the Sheriff's station after 1947, and is greeted by a Zane who does not remember proposing to her that morning. But they're definitely still together. It just seems that Jo can't figure out what they hell they are, and why he's still going on dates with other women.

Zane doesn't understand why Jo's suddenly done an about face, but if it gets her to stop acting like nothing's going on between them, he can work with that. He just wishes he knew why she looked so sad when she looked at him.

Chapter 1

Jo strode into the Sheriff’s station, heart hammering against her bruised ribs, terrified of what she would find. The statue had changed. God, she hoped that was the only thing they’d changed. It would be a ridiculous change they would have made, back in 1947, but one Jo would have no problem living with.

There Zane was, sitting in her cell like he’d been that morning, casual and cool, like she hadn’t ripped his heart out and thrown it in his face. Hope bubbled up in her chest, and Jo could feel it showing in her smile. Maybe they’d be okay. She could feel the weight of the ring still in her pocket. They could still have their happy ending, walking into Café Diem, congratulations from all their friends, phone calls from their parents. Everything would be okay.

“Zane. I can't believe you're still here.”

He didn’t even look up at her, just kept thumbing through his magazine, “Where else would I be?”

“I thought after the way that I reacted,” she broke off sighing, not sure what to say about what she did that morning, or how to fix it. She’d never been good with words. “I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I was just thinking too much. You know, I... I do that sometimes and...”

He cut her off, disinterest in his tone, “Lupo, what the hell are you trying to say?”

“I'm trying to say, ‘Yes.’”

“Yes? Yes, you’ll what, stop hogging the covers? Seriously Jo, what’s gotten into you?” he asked as he threw down his magazine.

“What we, this morning, you,” she cut herself off, dread filling her stomach like a weight. She looked around the room and saw that while Zane was in the cell, it was empty. None of the trappings or reminders of how they met that had been there when she'd first walked in that morning, before 1947. No framed poster, no bedding on the cot, no damn Panini press, no, no Liza’s box. And… Oh.

The cell door. It was locked, likely with the key that was on her belt loop. Why the hell was Zane in a locked cell?

“This morning you kicked me out of your bed at 3 am when I asked you to stop hogging the covers. And then this afternoon you threw me in jail.” Her bed. She’d kicked him out of her bed. Not their bed anymore. They didn’t live together?

Jo sat down at her desk, no able to look Zane in the eye while she tried to process everything that had happened. "Yeah, well, you shouldn’t bother me when I’m trying to sleep. You should be smarter than that," she said, forcing a smirk to her face, slipping into the familiar biting banter she and Zane had when they were fighting. Had she and Zane never gotten serious? He certainly wasn't looking at her the same way he had that morning.

“Look, Dungeon Master, when am I getting out of here?”

She played with her hands, picking the dirt out from under her nails, “I don’t know, what’d you do?”

“Nothing, you just like throwing me in jail,” she fixed her least impressed look in his direction, careful not to look in his eyes, but just above his head. If she did that, she might do something irrational and ill-befitting of a Deputy of Eureka. Like start beating prisoners. “So I unlocked a few cages, those monkeys deserved some freedom. Look, could you just let me out? I’ve got a date."

What? "Really? A date? With who?"

"Yeah, I'm meeting the blonde chick with the Ph.D. in Reproductive Biology. We're going to play doctorate," he smirked, without any of the soft and nervous affection he'd had that morning. Just the sarcastic bravado he’d had when he’d bought her lingerie to get under her skin. Did he even remember doing that anymore?

"Seriously?"

"Come on, Lupo, don't start acting like you care what I get up to or who with. We both know what's going on here, and what we’re not." No, I don’t know what we are, or why you’re sleeping with me but going out with other women. Why the hell wouldn’t I care about that!

She rushed to his cell door to unlock it, desperate to get him away from her, “Go. Get out.”

“You gonna taze me in the ass again?” and there was that grin, charming and handsome, that had caught her eye two years ago. Obsession with firearms can be a sign of an unfulfilled sexual appetite. I'm not saying that's you. But if it is, I'm at your service.She’d had to be talked out of shooting him back then. Now she wanted to shoot him, whatever blonde chick he was meeting up with, and maybe herself.

"Just get out," she snapped at him, blinking back tears that she couldn’t let fall. He walked out the door, facing her, clearly puzzled, his eyebrows drawn together in a way that she normally found cute, but right now, made her want to punch something. Anything would do.

The door shut behind Zane with a click, and Jo leaned against the cell bars, took a breath, and winced. She’d managed to clean up the blood on her face while Henry and Fargo were repairing the phones, but her ribs still needed to be taped, and the scrapes on her hands and head needed to be cleaned. She should still have an almost full tub of GD-grade bruise gel at home. Hopefully, it was still there.

Jo unlocked her door and stepped into her house, shutting the door behind her before leaning against it, letting her breath rush out of her. She took moment to close her eyes and just breathe after the chaos of the day that wasn’t even over yet. But she knew her peace couldn't last. She would have to go through her house to try to put together the pieces of the picture that made up her life, and figure out where everything went wrong.

Well, she had her minute. Time to face the music. She pushed off of the door, opened her eyes, and headed to the kitchen. She glanced around, her fingers trailing along the cool counter, taking it in. Didn’t look any different than it had when she had left that morning. Except…

She peered into the dishwasher and sighed in disappointment. Gone were Zane's plates with dried-on eggs, or his TARDIS-shaped mug, and she didn't think that was because he'd washed them already. They were probably at his old apartment, the one he'd barely spent any time at after they got together. Oh, they hadn't officially moved in together until after he'd gotten home from the Arctic, but that had been a formality, almost. Like he'd thought his question that morning had been. So let’s make it official. He’d really wanted to marry her. Spend the rest of his life with her, like she was the obvious choice.

Jo shook her head. She couldn’t think about that, the proposal that had never happened. She didn’t know how to fix the timeline, so she had to deal with this Zane in the meantime, if not forever. She really hoped she didn’t have this smarmy asshole forever.

She moved onto the living room. It looked like it had before Zane moved in, same décor, same pictures, and the same piano along the wall. The books on the shelves and her coffee table were just her books here, no physics journals or sci-fi novels or comic books. Just the thrillers and murder mysteries she liked to read on the rare occasion she had the opportunity. And, she checked the ottoman with the small storage space, some romance novels with shirtless men on the cover that she did notpull out in public. Zane had teased her the first time he’d seen her reading one, but she’d come home early one day and saw him on the couch, curled up with the blanket his mom had sent as a housewarming present, reading one. He insisted he was just being a good boyfriend, taking interest in her interests. And then he cracked a joke about the cowboy on the cover and positions. She’d been mad at him, but he made up for it.

She moved over to the stairs, heading up. At the very least, she would have to get changed and clean up, get 1947 off of her as quickly as possible. Hope that when she got out of the shower and back to town, Henry would have figured out a way to fix this.

Jo opened the door to her bedroom and stripped off her costume, heading straight for the en-suite bathroom. She showered quickly and efficiently, noting that, like most of the house, Zane's belongings were not there. She got out, wrapped the towel around herself, and headed to the sink to check the scrape on her temple. She applied GD's liquid band-aid to the cut, ignoring the sting, and went to put it away in the cabinet when she stopped, heart in her throat.

A used men's razor. She lifted it off the counter delicately, noting the short dark hairs caught between the blades. Zane's. Jo took stock of the rest of the vanity and felt a glimmer of hope that she hadn't felt since Zane spoke, back in the station.

Two toothbrushes in the holder. A can of his shaving cream. His aftershave, cap off because he could never remember to put the lid back on. She checked the shower again, and saw the bar of soap in the corner of the caddy, the kind that she never used, but, had clearly been used by someone.

Okay. Zane didn’t have any of his stuff downstairs, but he was over often enough that he had some space on her bathroom counter. Though not over enough for them to be exclusive. She really hoped she didn’t have to see him on his date. Her self-control was good, but not that good, she thought as she taped up her ribs and smoothed gel over her bruises. Those needed to fade, and quickly. The last thing she needed was someone asking what happened to her arms.

After giving the gel a minute to dry down, Jo walked back into her bedroom and got dressed, jerking open her drawers to see what was in each one. Her underwear, tank tops, T-Shirts and sweats all still in drawers. She yanked the last one open, wondering if it was empty if it was still being used for her sweaters, or…

Zane's clothes. Not all of them, his wardrobe probably had more than just a pair of jeans, two pairs of boxers, a couple of V-necks and, a crumpled-up plaid shirt. But he kept clothes here. Not enough to be living here, which the bottom floor had told her. But clean clothes for those rushed mornings when he wouldn't have time to run home before heading to work. He'd probably shown up to GD too many times wearing yesterday's clothes, thick stubble on his face.

Who had suggested it? Had she cleared it out and offered it to him? Had he brought them over in a backpack or duffle, slipping them into the drawer with a nervous grin? Were they the result of lazy weekends spent in her bed, ignoring the world outside?

She pulled her jeans on before picking up her dirty clothes and bringing them over to her hamper, and right on top of her clothes, was a pair of his boxers. Just more evidence that Zane was part of her life, but she didn’t know how she fit into his. If she went over to his apartment, would she find similar signs of her presence? Travel-size versions of her shampoo and conditioner, a change or two of clothes, maybe part of a spare uniform? Would her robe be there, or, no, she caught herself. He was fucking other women. If she got cold over there, she’d borrow one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweats.

And that was if she even went over to his place. She really needed to stop dawdling and get back to town so she could talk to Carter and Henry, see what was going on, and if they could fix this. And if they couldn’t, well, she’d been a Special Forces operative and was now a Deputy in Eureka. She could adapt. Maybe she could get Zane to adapt with her. Maybe, she thought as she slipped the ring onto a chain and placed it around her neck, not willing to be without it in case Henry found a way to fix this, maybe he’d even try to put this ring on her finger again. But that wasn’t happening tonight. Because she froze.

#eureka fic #eureka #jo lupo #zane donovan #a town called eureka

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starsandauras · 4 years

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Prompt #24: Beam

FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge Prompt 24: Beam

Don’t ask me the timeline of this stuff, I just write things. It’s not post 5.x though.

The Rising Stones were quiet. Quiet as a library, or a museum. Which was impressive, given that a toddler was a resident, and toddlers were not known for being quiet. In fact, most toddlers (including the toddler in question) were often as loud as every pot and pan in a kitchen being tossed across the room.

Thancred quickly realized this fact, his head popping up in surprise. Brigid made a disappointed noise as she was dislodged from his shoulder as he did, eyes fluttering open. “‘Tis wrong?” she murmured, a hand sliding over his chest to rest on his other shoulder.

“Have you noticed how quiet it is suddenly?” he asked, eyes flicking back and forth, ears straining. His hand still stroked up and down Brigid’s back, the woman relaxing under his touch.

“Aye, ‘tis nice,” she sighed, and lightly pressed on Thancred’s chest. “Was nappin’, ‘tis nice and warm t’day, lay back down, hm?”

He remained upright, an eyebrow raised. “Where’s Cred?” he asked suspiciously, and Brigid huffed.

“He’s bein’ with Urianger, he was promisin’ the lad story time. ‘Member? Nay anythin’ to be worryin’ ‘bout…”

Thancred hummed, hesitating only a moment before sliding out from under Brigid, pulling a disappointed noise from her throat. He ran a hand through his hair and turned to look back on her. “I’m going to go check on them,” he told her, and smiled slightly as she forced herself up from the couch they’d been dozing on, rubbing her back on the way up.

“Aye, fine,” she murmured, taking her place at his side. “They’re bein’ fine, you’re knowin’.”

He laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist, hand settling on her hip. “I know, but I doubt Urianger can keep up with Cred this long, and I would feel better if I saw for certain.” Brigid hummed and nodded, and they started on their way to the Scions’ library, where they knew Urianger usually hid away on his visits to the Stones.

Sure enough they found both Elezen scholar and Auri toddler in said library. Urianger’s hood was down — Thancred William often insisted on pulling off Urianger’s goggles and the hood down along with it, and Urianger had stopped fighting with him over it moons ago — and Thancred William was tucked up in Urianger’s lap, a hand resting on the toddler’s back.

The two paused as they realized both of them were asleep, a ray of sunlight streaming into the room and falling on them both. Urianger’s chest rose and sank slowly, Thancred William rising and sinking as well. He had a hand clenched in Urianger’s robes, face relaxed as he slept. Thancred felt a squeeze around his heart, and judging from the soft coo coming from Brigid, her own heart was a puddle.

“Let’s be leavin’ them be,” she murmured, lightly tugging on his sleeve. “Be goin’ back to our own nap.”

Thancred chuckled softly and nodded, steering them both out of the library and back down the hall. “For once he can’t complain that he put someone to sleep,” he joked, and laughed again as Brigid huffed and rolled her eyes fondly.

“Bein’ mean. Maybe I willnae be nappin’ with you after all.”

His free hand went to his chest, as though physically struck, and he gasped, widening his eyes comically. “What a wound my Spitfire has delivered me, straight to my heart!”

Brigid laughed and leaned back into him as they returned to the couch, ready to relax into it again. “You’re bein’ a daft thing,” she murmured as they laid back down, Thancred on his back and Brigid on his chest.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, smiling into it. “Your daft thing,” he replied quietly.

#FFXIVWrite2020 #FFXIVWrite #Warrior of Light: Brigid O'Donnell #Thancred Waters #Urianger Augurelt #Child of Light: Thancred William #Pairing: Casual Affair #Look it's cute okay that was the main thing

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silent-writer83 · 5 years

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Let’s Do It Baby, I Know The Law

”Summary: Successful in saving Iris, there are some unforeseen costs. So, with little time left, you decide to live it up consequences be damned. When Savitar comes for you, you’ve got a few choice words in mind for him.

A/N: Tbh I just wanted to write the reader drunkenly mouthing off to Savitar. If you know what this quote is from, ily.

Changing the timeline always came at a cost, you all knew that. Hell, if you didn’t by now then you were just being purposefully ignorant. What no one expected, no matter how many times they toyed with it, was the cost they would be paying. Saving Iris was the goal, its what everyone focused so heavily on that they didn’t think twice about rearranging events. They didn’t think about the little things they were tweaking and the effect that it would have on another’s life. They didn’t think because they didn’t care.

In the end you were successful, waiting with bated breath as Cisco vibed Barry to the future yet again to see if their efforts were worth it. Of course the latino was giving a play by play, each person in the cortex hanging on his every word. You sat, hands in your lap, practically vibrating on the edge of your seat as they named the differences. “Savitar just arrived,” Cisco breathed and you could have sworn your heart stopped.

“Okay? And!” You urged, scooting to the edge as your eyes trained on your two friends. “Did it work?! Did we save Iris?” you asked the question on everyone’s mind, only, an answer didn’t come. Confused, and assuming that your plans were thwarted yet again, you slumped in your seat with a sigh.

Caitlin bit her lip to hide her disappointment as she looked over meaningless papers on her clipboard to look busy. H.R’s shoulders slumped as he gripped his drumsticks tightly. Wally did his best not to react, averting his gaze as he quelled his frustration and Joe hugged Iris to his chest. The defeat in the room was palpable as you turned back to your desk with a heavy sigh, the glance Cisco shared with Barry going unseen.

Cisco didn’t know what to say, hoping that Barry would, but when their eyes met he knew the hero was at just as much of a loss as he was. Swallowing the nerves in his belly, Cisco folded his goggles as he turned to his friends in the room. How was he supposed to say this? How could they be happy about this? Why couldn’t they just have one clean win?

“Um,” his voice cracked as he broke the silence, everyone’s head snapping in his direction. Being under direct scrutiny just made him want to shrivel up, avoiding their expectant, anxious gazes.

“We saved Iris,” Barry spoke up, forcing the cheer in his voice. The sigh of relief that filled the room only broke his heart as Cisco watched Iris rush to her fiance.

Perking up at your desk, a smile was already dancing on your features. “Yes!” you cheered, joy filling the room as everyone felt the weight of the world lift off their shoulders. Of course, nothing good could last around here, Iris being the first to pick up on Barry’s stiffness. She always could read him like a book.

“What’s wrong Bar?” She asked, pulling back just enough to look at him. Barry chewed his lip as he looked to Cisco for guidance. By now everyone was inching closer, confused as to why Barry wasn’t more excited. His wife-to-be was going to live so what’s the deal?

“We saved you but...” he faltered, stepping back as he turned to look at you. Lips parted to speak but he found the words caught in his throat. How could he say this to you, after everything you’ve done, after everything you’ve given them - him - as a friend.

“Alright dude, quit lookin’ at me like that. It’s freakin’ me out,” you laughed away your discomfort as all eyes turned to you. You didn’t like the pity in Barry’s gaze, the pain as he tried to say words that wouldn’t come. “We saved Iris what’s the big de-”

“You die!” Cisco blurted out, tense as he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth and turned his back.

The shock was clear as day on your face as you stood dumbfounded. You hadn’t thought of the consequences of rearranging the timeline but shit, you weren’t expecting this! Blinking, you took a breath, opening your mouth to speak but, like Barry, you were at a loss for words. Your mind couldn’t comprehend what was going on, couldn’t wrap around the idea that, just moments ago you were meant to live a semi-normal, happy life and now....now you only had a few days left.

Abruptly you turned, heels clicking on their way out of the cortex. You were on autopilot, mind blank and yet buzzing all at the same time. You could hear their voices calling after you, not wanting you to leave. How could they protect you if you weren’t there?! So you paused at the entry way, the calmness with which you turned setting them all on edge.

“I’m....gonna get really drunk,” you stated, moving as if to add to that before shaking your head and leaving. Yeah, you definitely needed a drink.....a stiff one.

“LET’S GET FUCKED UP!” Your voice drowned in the bass of the music, bodies writhing and jumping to the sound around you. The small glass cup in your hand was pressed to your lips, head tilting back as the cool liquid slipped down your throat. The burn had long since faded as your senses skewed from too much alcohol. What did you care anyways? Your days were limited, or was it hours now? WHO CARED YOU WERE DRUNK BITCH!

Laughter fell from your lips as you stumbled out onto the dance floor, plucking a drink from a tray as you passed. Whatever you grabbed was sweet, washing down your throat as you shimmied into the ground. Your phone buzzed in your back pocket for, you didn’t even know how many times. Like all the others it went completely ignored. You were drunk but happy, not a care in the world, and that’s how you wanted it to stay.

“Cisco, did she answer?” Barry’s voice spoke through the coms. He was zipping through Central City looking for you. How one person seemed to disappear so fast was unsettling. It was nearly two in the morning and Barry was starting to fear the worst.

“No,” Cisco sighed, the defeat was in his voice as he fiddled with his screens.

“Can’t you like...triangulate or something?!” Barry huffed, getting frustrated at his inability to find you.

“Oh yeah, because I haven’t tried that before,” Cisco shot back with a huff of his own.

Caitlin stepped up, offering a reassuring (though tense) smile to Cisco. Hands on the top of the desk, she leaned over so she could talk into the com. “Y/N would always go to Club Lavo,” She suggested with a hopeful tone.

Without a second thought Barry was rushing off, zipping through the streets of Central City.

Barry’s eyes darted around the dark club, squinting against the flashing lights. He was looking for your familiar mop of hair, groaning when he couldn’t make out much. Thank god he had his powers. Darting through the crowd, it only took a few moments to find you. Arms wrapped around your center, not thinking twice before rushing back to the Cortex.

The world rushed around you in too fast movements, halting all at once leaving you dizzy and stumbling. Legs wobbled as you attempted to step, stomach lurching as you doubled over. Barry had a can in front of you just in time for you to spill out stomach acid and what remained of a cocktail, grimacing at the sounds of your gagging.

The tell tale crackling of lighting had heads snapping to the doorway, hearts lurching as that eerie doppleganger made himself known. The smirk on his mangled face was cocky as he sauntered in, eyeing each and every horrified face. Savitar took pride in the way they tensed, the way they all seemed to skirt around you as if that would make a difference. Oh how feeble they all were. “Hand her over and I’ll let you all live,” He mused, reveling in the games he played with them.

“Like hell that’s gonna happen,” Barry quipped, refusing to let his future self have it easy.

“We can do it the hard way Barry. I’m faster than you, stronger. I am a GO-”

“Oh shut UP!” You whined, pushing past the Scarlet Speedster as you stumbled out from the protective little bubble your friends made. “You, sir,” you slurred as you waved a finger in Savitar’s face. “May fuggoff!” Stumbling back, a hand pressed to your lips as you felt your stomach gurgle. You weren’t about to let that stop your tirade though. “You think you kin juss waltz in here like you own the place? Newsflash, bro, you don’t. Dis my house,” you quipped, clapping to make your point. “In here, talm bout ‘I’m a God. Grrrr bow down to me,’“ you mocked the man you had all come to fear. “Like, who even are you?”

Savitar’s jaw clenched as he glared at you, hands fisting at his sides. Embarrassment began to crawl along his neck, staining his cheeks a soft red as you taunted him. How dare you?! You were meant to fear him!

“And another thing!” You started, turning back to him as you stumbled your way over. “You’re a digghead!” you fumbled the words as syllables began to slide together, finger jabbing the self-proclaimed God of Speed in the chest. “Oh wahhh, I didn’t like myself so I’m gonna go kill his wife. Like, talk bout small dick energy amirite?” you snorted, turning to your friends as you doubled over in laughter.

They all stared at you, wide eyed and slack jawed, unable to figure out just how they felt. On one hand it was hilarious, watching you verbally berate this so called God of Speed, on the other hand it was terrifying because they knew how ruthless the future Barry Allen could be.

“Should....I be offended by that?” Barry whispered softly to Cisco who merely shook his head with a small shrug. To be honest, he wasn’t sure what to make of all of this.

Glaring down at you, Savitar felt his heart fumble in his chest. He didn’t like the way you talked to carelessly to him, the way there was no fear in your eyes. Surely you knew he was the one to end your life. Why weren’t you acting like it! “I’ll slaughter your entire family if you’re no careful,” he ground out, hoping that, at the very least, would put you in your place.

Whirling around you stood straight, arms out beckoning him to prove it. “Let’s do it baby, I know the law!”

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cosmicdaya · 6 years

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lost in japan | tom holland

{summary} : a small fic based on shawn mendes’ songs that i wanted to write since it ever came out. listen to it here !

{warning} : hella lot of fluff and some mentions of sex

{word count} : 1393 words (cool)

{pairing} : tom holland x reader

{requested} : no one

{type of story} : imagine

{author’s note} : hello ppl i was too lazy to continue my series so i wrote this sorry hehe (don’t worry, it will be up soon!) plus this is a cool song! i recommend it!!!!! send me an ask to be added to my taglist! plus, #thanosdemandsyoursilence ( I AM GONNA WATCH IT TOMORROW AHH)

{ permanent taglist} : @alimaawilliams // @mrsmouthymerc // @leni-lion-luke-larb-logic // @definespidey // @shookspudey // @amagicalpieceofshit

(tumblr didn’t let me to tag those usernames which are striked)

All it'd take is one flight We'd be in the same time zone

Tom wanted to see you so badly. He was very busy travelling around the world for the premier of Infinity War, that he didn’t have time to see you, his best friend. Yeah, his best friend. He did have a major crush on you but was afraid to tell you that thinking that it might affect your friendship with him.

Looking through your timeline Seeing all the rainbows,

He whipped out his phone, looking at your Instagram page. Just looking at your pictures made him smile like a stupid dork.

Man, I wish I can eat pancakes with her, he thought when he saw a picture of you eating pancakes.

His heart exploded with joy when he saw a picture of you and him holding your passports, when you guys went to Hawaii last year. He wanted to see you so badly and he had to think of a way.

Wait, maybe this will work, I hope?

I got an idea And I know that it sounds crazy I just wanna see ya Oh, I gotta ask

He opened the messaging app on his phone and texted you, his thumbs moving at a speed that no human brain can comprehend. His face lighted up as soon as he saw the three little dots at the lower left side of his phone screen.

Tom

Y/N can i meet you??

Y/N

tom, are you kidding me? you are at japan

Tom

ya but can i see you?

Y/N

you know you can barge into my house anytime you want, but how?

Do you got plans tonight? I'm a couple hundred miles from Japan, and I I was thinking I could fly to your hotel tonight

Tom

do you have plans tonight, love?

Y/N

...no, as you know im just gonna watch some gossip girl and make myself heppi

Tom

then await my arrival darling.

i will be there soon!

Y/N

wait what...

how...

ARE YOU GONNA TAKE A FREAKING FLIGHT? QHAT

THOMAS STANLEY HOLOGRAM

'Cause I-I-I can't get you off my mind Can't get you off my mind Can't get you off my mind (oh)

Tom was grinning happily as he sat in his seat in the plane. He couldn’t wait to see you, hug you, feel you and tell that he loves you. His smile turned upside down to a frown as his mind flooded with thoughts of you saying no to him. He sighed deeply and tried to divert his attention to the magazine that was in his bag. Despite his attempts, he was futile in not thinking about you as he can’t get you off his mind.

I could feel the tension We could cut it with a knife I know it's more than just a friendship I can hear you thinking about it, yeah

You were walking around in your living room. You were half expecting half not for Tom’s arrival. You did have feelings for Tom but you didn’t want to ruin the friendship between you guys.

You guys are unbelievable...

You wore a crop top and a pair of black leggings and put a minimal amount of makeup to look good and also to cover up the fact that you have binge watching movies since the day Tom left for Japan.

There was no one to cuddle with and to play with your hair and even to comment on the nasty pancakes you did every morning. You loved the way his nose scrunched up whenever he smiles at your not-so funny puns. You always loved the fact that his arm always ends up at your back, unconsciously drawing patterns no matter where you guys are.

Gosh, I am madly in love with him, you thought to yourself.

You glanced at the clock and noticed that the time was 12pm. You were convinced that either Tom is coming tomorrow or he was playing a prank on you. You cleaned up and wore your favorite Spider-man shirt and shorts. As you were going to open your room’s door, you heard the doorbell ring.

You walked briskly towards the door opened it to find Tom standing there. You were knocked out of breath as Tom hugged you so tightly. You laughed, throwing back your head and hugged him back.

“I am not going anywhere, headass,” you sighed as you rested your head in the crook of his neck.

You released yourself from Tom’s embrace and signaled him to take a seat on your couch. You quickly made two cups of tea and made your way to the living room. You gave him his cup and sat down on the couch.

There was a very awkward silence between the both of you now. There was a very heavy tension in the room, that you can even cut it with a knife. Both of you acted like strangers who just met and fell in love but afraid to tell the other about their feelings.

Do I gotta convince you? That you shouldn't fall asleep It'll only be a couple hours And I'm about to leave

To end this silence, you cleared your throat and made Tom look at you questioningly.

“It’s quite late, Tommy. I should go and sleep. I have to work tomorrow,” you said, with a sadness in your heart that you have to leave him.

“Y/N, work can wait. I will leave soon to Japan as I have a fan meet. I came all the way here to see you. Don’t disappoint me, darling,” he said with his puppy eyes, making you melt at his words.

You sighed and sat down on the couch. His face lighted up like a little child and you giggled at him.

Do you got plans tonight? I'm a couple hundred miles from Japan, and I I was thinking I could fly to your hotel tonight 'Cause I-I-I can't get you off my mind Can't get you off my mind Can't get you off my mind

Both of you ended up watching some random movies in order to pass some time. Halfway through a movie, Tom nudged you and sat facing you. You tilted your head and adjusted yourself so that you were facing him.

His fingers were lightly ghosting over your arm, back and forth. His nimble fingers slowly went down your leg and stopped at your upper thigh. Your whole mind was fuzzy as you couldn’t understand what was going on.

“What are you doing, Tom?” you asked him, breathlessly.

“I have been wanting to tell you these words all these while,” he looked up at you and the sight of him like that blew you away.

“I would love to be more than just best friends, Y/N. I love you,”

Do you got plans tonight? I was hoping I could get lost in your paradise The only thing I'm thinking 'bout is you and I

You stared back in disbelieve at the curly brown haired boy in front of you, not realizing what was going on.

He likes me?! Tom Holland LikEs mE?!

Tom looked back at you with a glimmer of hope in eyes, waiting for your answer. Even though you were freaking out in the inside, you steadied your nerves and kissed him. It was a slow and steady one, much in a romantic way.

Let's get lost tonight (oh) Let's get lost tonight (oh) Baby, you and I can't seem to get you off my mind

Both of you pulled away and looked at each other. The light from the television made Tom’s face looked heavenly and it made you sigh deeply.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Tom asked you, his voice sounding worried.

“Tom, can you give me a map?” you asked him, playing with his curls.

“Why?”

“’Cause I am lost in your eyes,” you said, before laughing uncontrollably. Tom joined in the laughter after a moment of staring at your dorkiness.

“Its has not even been a minute since I told you that I love you and you are making a pun,” Tom shook his head, chuckling a little.

“But you still love me, baby,” you winked as you moved closer to him.

“And I do not regret that,” he said before pulling you into another kiss.

GUESS WHAT I LOVE TOM HOLLAND

send me an ask to be added to my taglist!

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ingloriousblasters · 6 years

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Old Habits (Yondu x Reader)

Here is my entry for @rookerstash song challenge. I was overly ambitious and wanted to write 2 fics, but don’t think I’ll get the other one done by the deadline.... because I haven’t started it lol. But I still plan on writing and posting it..... sometime in the future!

I tried to do a songfic, never done one before, so this is what came out. The story is kind of influenced by some of the lyrics to The 1975′s “Somebody Else”

I just really like the song, and can picture it being played somewhere on Contraxia.

Warnings: language, brief mention of smut, timeline takes place a little before and a little after the first Guardians movie.

So I heard you found somebody else

And at first I thought it was a lie

I took all my things that make sounds

The rest I can do without

Staring at the tiny enclosure that had been your room for the last four years, you took a deep breath and sighed. Admittingly a bit of a slob, you picked up all the trash from the floor, organized the odds and ends on the desk in the corner, made the small bed on the side wall, and packed the few clothes you had into a bag. Standing at the door, your eyes scanned the metal room for anything you might have forgotten when they landed on a little plastic dog. Your eyes fell to the ground as you thought about the last couple of months. You tried to look past everything, but it had become too much for you. Shaking your head of the bad thoughts, you reached your hand over to the desk and grabbed the rectangular music player Peter had copied all of his music on for you. Placing it in your jacket pocket, you snuck off the Eclector in the middle of the night and hitched a ride off of the planet you were currently docked on.

______________

The data pad in one of Yondu’s many pockets started to vibrate just as the two of you finally made it to your bed. Having had a little too much to drink at dinner, Yondu didn't have the patience to walk all the way back to his chambers, settling for your small room instead. Word had spread on the Eclector that you two were a thing, and having been seeing each other a little over a year, Yondu had finally stopped trying to put an end to the rumors. You were his, and he didn’t care what the other Ravagers had to say about it now.

“You gonna get that?” you asked as the Centaurian continued kissing down your neck.

“Mm-mm,” Yondu mumbled into your neck. “I’m off duty.” He smirked as he resumed his current job at hand. A few seconds later the data pad stopped. As you began to relax and enjoy the sweet torture of your blue lover, the vibrations started again. You let out a sigh, and Yondu grunted before removing himself from you and grabbing the device from his pocket.

“Hmm” his voice sounded after a couple of minutes, still staring at the device.

“What?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“That Xandarian socialite, Violetta Oro?” he said looking up at you. “Apparently someone broke into her home and stole some of her jewelry.”

“So?”

“So, them jewels are worth thousands of units. She wants to hire us to find ‘em before they get sold on the market.” Yondu’s red eyes watched you as you thought things over.

“How much is she offering?” you finally asked. Yondu broke into a grin, his crooked teeth glinting even in the dim light of your room. He leaned forward and whispered in your ear how much the woman was offering to pay. Your mouth fell open at the obscene amount of money.

“Whatchu think, baby?” Yondu asked after a moment. Unable to form words, you just repeatedly nodded your head.

“Good.” Yondu smiled, setting the data pad down. He removed his duster jacket and boots, and leaned over you as you settled back into your bed.

The job went off without a hitch, and as promised, the Ravagers were handsomely rewarded. To celebrate, Yondu docked on Contraxia for the night, allowing his crew to revel after their hard work. It also meant you two had the whole ship to yourselves for the evening. Your naked bodies intertwined underneath the fur covers of Yondu’s bed, your head laid on his chest while Yondu had closed his eyes to rest briefly. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the silence on the ship and finally having some alone time with the Captain. Your bliss was interrupted by a sequence of repeating vibrations. Frustrated at the disruption, Yondu muttered under his breath before opening his eyes and leaning over to grab the pad.

“Shit!” He remarked.

“What?” You asked, feigning interest as you laid your head back down on his sturdy chest.

“Oro got another job for us. Says she’ll double what she paid us this time.”

“Really?” Curiosity getting the better of you. You turned and rested your head on your hand, looking over at the device.

“How’s ‘bout it, baby?” he looked over at you, pursing his lips. You read over the job details again. This was more dangerous than the first job, and you didn’t understand why Violetta Oro decided to request the Ravagers’ services again.

“I don’t know Yondu,” hesitation in your voice. “This is way more dangerous. Breaking into a Centurion’s office? We’re dealing with the government now?”

“Well, he wronged her!” Yondu tried to justify the mission.

“And why is that our problem?” you huffed, removing the fur blankets from your body and walking towards the small shower in the quarters. Yondu sighed and got up from the bed to follow you. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you turned the handle to start the water. He placed a kiss to your shoulder while his hands started to lightly run up and down your sides.

“Come on, (y/n),” his raspy voice cooed. “Just think of all ‘em units. I could take ya’s somewhere real nice and we can have a real night away off this ship.” Yondu’s lips trailed up and down the side of your neck, his crooked teeth teasingly nipped along your skin and sent goosebumps down your spine.

“Hmm, what ya say baby?”

You were still irritated at him, but god he knew how to touch your body to coerce you into anything he wanted. You started thinking what’s one more mission? Yondu’s crew was an experienced group and you knew if anyone could pull this off it would be him. Wanting to tease the Centaurian a little and keep his curiosity, you turned around in his arms.

“Let me think about it in the shower?” you raised an eyebrow, a slight smile on your face as your hands rubbed up and down his muscular arms. You grabbed his hands in yours, and guided him into the steaming shower with you.

A couple of weeks later you went on the mission. Breaking into the Nova Corps main building, Yondu had just grabbed the pendant Oro’s ex lover had kept. Everything was going to plan and Yondu smiled at you when a loud siren sounded throughout the entire building. One of the Ravagers had set off an invisible trap, and metal walls were falling down all the doors and windows at lighting speed. Panic set in and everyone broke into a run to get back on the Eclector as guards appeared, taking down anyone in their sights. Many Ravagers went down, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Kraglin get hit in the leg.

“Yondu!” you yelled as you ran back to Kraglin. Yondu was paces ahead of you, but turned at your voice, and saw you struggling to get Kraglin to his feet. He stuffed the gold pendant into his pocket and ran back to help. Quickly the both of you took Kraglin by a shoulder and got him to the ship. Yondu went to the Captain’s chair to start the engines.

“What are you doing?!” you asked after making sure Kraglin was okay.

“We’re gettin outta here, Darlin,” Yondu replied, avoiding eye contact with you.

“What about the others?!” Your eyes widened in shock. Was he really going to abandon half his crew? They weren’t that far behind you, and you couldn’t live with yourself knowing they got to the docking station with the Eclector to be nowhere in sight. You made eye contact with Yondu, his red eyes glaring at you when you told him to stay put. The look in his eyes scared you for a moment before you made a particular threat to him about cutting your evenings together. He mumbled under his breath before begrudgingly agreeing to stay for a couple of minutes before taking off. After staring out of the window for what felt like hours, a small group of the crew appeared from the building running towards the ship. You breathed a sigh of relief knowing your threat wasn’t in vain, but you knew once you were alone in the confines of his room, you and Yondu were going to have it out.

You stood on opposite sides of Yondu’s bed, both your arms animatedly flying about as you each defended your side of the argument.

“That was too close of a call!” you spat out.

“We was fine! Just like any other mission!” Yondu yelled back.

“No, it wasn’t!” you shook your head. Frustrated you sat on the bed, your back facing the Centaurian. “You changed out there Yondu, and I didn’t like it.”

“What ya mean I changed?!” you looked over your shoulder as his brows furrowed and lips tightened as he waited for you to answer.

“I mean you were going to abandon your crew on Xandar. I saw the look in your eyes. All you were thinking about were the units.” You sat in silence waiting for him to respond. When he didn’t, you got up from the bed and walked out of the door.

Later that night, unable to sleep, you heard the doors of your tiny room slide open and close and felt the edge of your bed dip. You turned around on your side to see Yondu, his fingers fumbling with a small, plastic dog in his hands.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).” his voice whispered as he handed you the toy. You took it from him, looking at the brown and white spots on the long ears. Yondu always remembered you on his days out, and would bring you back anything he found cute. Sighing, you forgave him. You knew Yondu’s heart was always in the right place, he just didn’t always think things through.

“Just tell her no next time?” you asked and Yondu nodded his head. You placed the plastic dog on the desk next to your growing collection, and cuddled into Yondu who stayed with you the rest of the night.

Our love has gone cold

You're intertwining your soul with somebody else

Weeks went by and everything seemed to have gone back to normal. The Ravagers had been having a steady line of work, and Kraglin and Yondu were frequenting the markets to make deals on items you collected. Yondu had also started to spoil you with more lavish gifts than his usual trinkets. It was late one evening when Yondu came to your quarters with another gift for you. You weren’t sure exactly what is was, but it looked like a female alien. She had tentacles for arms and a winged back. The thing wasn’t ugly though, being made out of gold. It kind of reminded you of an angel. You thanked him for it and gave him a kiss on the cheek while Yondu went back to his room to shower. Staring at the statue something about it felt off to you. You turned the object in your hands, studying the four eyes on the face, the long, bended arms, and the details of the wings on the back. You tipped it upside down to see if there was an artist’s name on the bottom. Something was engraved, but had faded over time. You brought it closer to your eyes when you made out the words O-R-O.

A white hot heat spread throughout your body. Maybe your eyes were deceiving you. You glanced down at the statue again, and the words were clearer this time. He was still in contact with her. You felt tears sting your eyes as your body got up from the chair and marched towards Yondu’s room. Not even bothering knocking, you punched the keypad to unlock the doors and barged in. Yondu, standing at the end of his bed in his pants, turned around as you threw the statue at him, his quick reflexes catching it with little hesitation.

“You wanna tell me where you got that?!”

“Whatchu mean?” he asked. “I got it in the marketplace.”

“Bullshit Yondu! Look at the bottom of it!” Yondu tilted the statue over, his ruby eyes narrowing in on the bottom. His face fell when he made out the words etched underneath. Rubbing a hand over his face, he cursed under his breath.

“Are you cheating on me?” you questioned.

“What? NO!” he bellowed out, tossing the statue on his bed. “I didn’t know her name was on it!”

“Then how in the hell did you give me something that clearly belongs to Violetta Oro?!” Yondu looked at the ground, avoiding eye contact with you.

“I...I’ve been doing small jobs here and there for her. Pickin up extra units.”

“I asked you to stop.”

“I know,” he said in a soft voice, nodding his head.

“Damnit Yondu! She’s using you!” you spat out. “How do you not see that?!”

“She ain’t using me!” he said louder, finding his voice again. You shook your head at him. Yondu may have been one of the best Ravager Captains in the galaxy, and he was street smart, but when it came to money, he lost all sense.

“Yes, she is. She’s using the units as bait to get you to do her petty, dirty work for her.” Tears now silently streaming down your face, you quickly wiped them away. He was going behind your back after you asked him to stop taking jobs from Oro. You didn’t know if he was cheating, but some kind of relationship was there, and it hurt too much to think about.

“How can I trust you anymore?” you asked, your voice weak. Yondu was silent, he couldn't look at you for more than a few seconds before his eyes returned to the floor. You waited and he didn’t answer. You went back to your room, thinking he needed time, and waited, but he didn’t come. You weren’t going to wait for him anymore, you packed up all your things and snuck out in the middle of the night.

Come on baby

This ain't the last time that I'll see your face

I just don't believe that you have got it in you 'cause

We are just gonna keep 'doin' it' and everytime

I start to believe in anything you're saying

I'm reminded that I should be getting over it

Months had gone by since you left the Eclector, and your thoughts were constantly plagued with images of Yondu and Violetta Oro. You wondered how many more of her jobs Yondu went on, and couldn’t help but picture the two of them together. You thought leaving was the best thing for you to do. You were hurt and angry, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get the Centaurian out of your mind.

You made ends meet by doing the odd job here and there, and on your nights off found yourself in the same old bars of Contraxia. Tonight, a particularly handsome Xandarian took a seat next to you. Finding yourself not repulsed like you usually were with the other occupants, you let him buy your next drink. Smiling at the man you hadn’t felt this good in a while, although you knew a part of that was from the buzz of the alcohol. Your eyes wandered around the establishment, when they caught sight of a blue figure walking in. Immediately you felt your body sober up, the light bubble of happiness inside of you popping. Mouth dry you averted your eyes back to the Xandarian, who was in the middle of telling a rather boring story about his youth. You watched the man talk, but your mind was elsewhere. This wasn’t the first time you had seen Yondu around. Your last encounter with him flashed before your eyes.

Whenever you spotted him on Contraxia you did your best to disappear, but on more than one occasion he had caught sight of you and called after you. That night you walked into the bar’s restroom in the back, and waited. Finally thinking it had been long enough, you caved and walked out the door, right into Yondu. He walked you back into the hallway, started going on about how he understood why you left, but that nothing happened between him and Oro. You grew irritated at his excuse of an apology.

“I was doing it for ya!” He started arguing with you when you told him that wasn’t the only reason why you left.

“Fuck you, Yondu! You just wanted the units, no matter the job!” you responded. He still didn’t get it. “I didn’t need any of it!” You pushed his chest to get him to move away from you but he didn’t budge, which only angered you more.

“I guess that’s why Peter left, huh?” Your anger making you spill out hateful words. You pushed again and he moved a little this time.

“It became too much for him too? I guess old habits are hard to break?!”

Yondu had let you push him up against the opposite wall of the hallway. You glared at him as he started smiling at your last words.

“Yeah, guess they are.” His blue tongue glided over his upper lip. Your eyes moved to his rough lips and you swallowed hard and took a breathe. You missed him no matter how hard you tried to deny it, and his little teasing caused a response in your body. Your heart started buzzing and you let out of breathe.

“Oh, fuck it.” you muttered out, your hands grabbing hold of his neck and lips smashing into his. Your teeth knocked into his but you didn’t care, you only thought about how good it felt when his hands grasped your hips and his fingers dug into your skin. His hands went to the back of your thighs and you jumped a little as he picked you up and carried you to one of the rooms in the back. Yondu threw you on the bed, both your clothes off in seconds. He didn’t waste any time as you were both hungry for each other, and without warning he plunged into you. You screamed out when Yondu entered you, the pain turning into pleasure as he started a hard, steady rhythm. Both of you moaning out loud, not caring if anyone could hear you as they walked by. It didn’t take long for the warmth to spread across your body, writhing underneath Yondu’s big frame as he brought you over the edge with him soon following. The next morning you snuck out of the room, telling yourself it wouldn’t happen again. You let him get under your skin one more time, but this time, you swore, you were done.

You were just about to excuse yourself from the Xandarian when you heard the familiar gravelly voice call your name. Slowly, you lifted your gaze up to him, the colorful lights of the bar illuminating his blue skin in yellows, greens, and purples. The synthetic rhythm of the song playing in the bar filled your ears and you couldn’t hear what Yondu said next.

“Huh?” you called out.

“I said can I talk ta ya in private?” he yelled back. You looked over at the Xandarian, who had no idea what was going on, and excused yourself before you could say anything in response. You followed Yondu out into the frigid night air of Contraxia.

“Ya seein someone else?” he asked as you walked out of the bar.

“No, just met him tonight,” you said. “Was kind of starting to bore me actually,” you admitted before you could stop yourself. You saw the corner of Yondu’s mouth turn upwards out of the side of your eye. You continued walking around the neon lit planet, the crunching of snow underneath your feet, and the muffled beat of music from the bar were the only sounds emanating around you. His silence was driving you crazy.

“You still working for Oro?” you asked. Yondu huffed out a laugh and smiled at the ground.

“Nah, ya was right,” he sighed. You stopped in your tracks. He looked over at you, his red eyes studying your face. “Cut off ties with her. She made a pass at me when I said I wouldn’t do a job. Happened ‘bout right after our last encounter.” A smile ghosting his face remembering your night together. You let his words sink it, he was admitting you were right.

“Told you.”

“Yeah, I know,” he admitted. His eyes softened and he cleared his throat before continuing. “Been thinkin ‘bout a lot of things recently, and m’sorry...‘bout everything.” You studied his face, looking for any sign that he could be lying to you.

“What made you change your mind?” You asked crossing your arms.

“Peter.”

“Peter?!” you called out confused. Yondu laughed at your outburst before explaining what he had been up to these last couple of months, including the Battle of Xandar.

“So you’re helping the government out now?”

“On occasion,” he smirked. He inched towards you and placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing over your frostbitten skin. His smile disappeared and he looked at you like he’d never done before. His face was serious, his eyes never wavering as he started to speak.

“Peter needed me. When it was all over, I realized I needed you.” You unfolded your arms as Yondu slid his around you. Letting his hands run up and down your body, feeling the trail of heat they left on you out in the cold, made you realize how much you missed him. Maybe he would betray you again, maybe he wouldn’t. All you knew was at this moment, it felt right, and you were tired of being unhappy.

“I need you too.” you answered. Yondu smiled at you and leaned his head down to kiss you. Old habits were hard to break, and you didn’t think you’d ever get rid of this one.

#yondu x reader #yondu udonta x reader #yondu #rookerstashsongchallenge #not sure why the text is all funky at the beginning

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straight-outta-hobbiton · 6 years

Text

On Sirius Black and the Black Family Dynamics

So, something interesting I just realized.

In Grimmauld Place, Sirius still has a bedroom. Like, canonically, he sleeps in the room that used to be his growing up. It still has his posters all over the walls and everything. On top of that, it has a letter sent from Lily in 1981.

While I recognize JKR is shit at keeping timelines, it made me think— for the placement of that letter to work, Sirius must have been either living in the house or stayed over regularly enough that it wouldn’t be unusual for him to leave things like letters from his friends lying around.

According to Sirius, Walburga was basically an alt-right stand-in, and thanks to the portrait, we have no reason to disbelieve him. But here’s the thing— even after she blasted him off the family tapestry, she left his room alone. Yeah, there were permanent sticking charms on his posters and whatnot, but considering the implied magical ability both she and Orion Black had they probably could have gotten rid of it all anyway, turning the room into another guest room or an office or a torture chamber or whatever. But they didn’t. They left it just as it was.

This, to me, implies that they expected their son to come home, whether it be because he has nowhere else to go or because he learned his lesson and was willing to return on their terms. Since he still became Lord Black after they died, I can’t imagine they legally disowned him/wrote him out of the will, considering they were filthy rich Purebloods with appropriately-thinking family out the ass.

So, Walburga and Orion expect their elder son to come home, and he doesn’t. He moves in with the Potters, then inherits a small fortune from an uncle that basically wipes away any chances of the first scenario happening, leading to the fury and blasting of Alphard Black’s portrait off the family tapestry. Still, they don’t destroy his room. They leave it there.

Then, at some point in 1979, Regulus dies, and so does Orion. Walburga is suddenly completely alone, her husband (to whom she was happily married, according to a couple of different sites) and her perfect, albeit younger son, who did the right thing and joined the Death Eaters. She’s older, she’s sick with grief, and she’s pretty much lost everything that a proper Pureblood lady ever wants in the world.

I theorize that she and Sirius contacted each other again somehow, either Walburga writing to Sirius about the death of his brother and father or Sirius contacting her with condolences, though I think the first is probably more likely, since Regulus ‘disappeared’ rather than just straight up died. So they come back into contact again.

Sirius is a kid who was abused by his parents, at least emotionally, probably physically. You figure he probably spent most of his childhood before running away doing his best to be accepted by his parents, to be loved and understood even though he knew deep down inside that they would never accept him as he was. Still, he tried— he probably got good grades, probably tried to do things he thought might make his father proud or his mother smile in between bouts of rebellious, probably self-destructive anger. And while he’s mostly gotten over the people-pleaser thing— after all, they’ve still got Regulus, the better son, and anyway he’s got his friends and a job and a purpose beyond that sort of stuff— when he gets the news that his brother (who he loved, even if he turned out to be a no-good Death Eater) and his father (who taught him how to fly and cast his first spells but always let his mother have her way when Sirius did something wrong) are dead, he still grieves. Nobody else can understand it, really, so he goes to his mother, the only other person in the world who feels at least a little bit like he does.

His mom’s still a bitch. She’s still mean, and hates his friends and his life and his beliefs and his choices, but she’s older now, worn down by the sudden shock of losing just about everything she cherished within a single year. But she lets him in, lets him sit across the table with a cup of tea with her in silence, lets him ask about her health and if she knows how Regulus died (because even if he’s technically missing, they both know that he’s dead). Eventually, of course, the meeting goes bad, and he slams the door behind him as he goes.

But he comes back.

He starts... visiting. It’s never comfortable, their conversations always on a knife’s edge between superficial small talk and full-blown arguments. He hates that he can’t say anything about his life, about how James and Lily got married and how Remus has a new job, because it’ll just lead to insults about his Mudblood friends. He hates that she’ll just bring up shit he does that she doesn’t agree with and tell him why he’s being stupid by getting involved with Dumbledore, and he just has to sit and take it because God forbid he brings up how well Regulus’ involvement with the Dark Lord went.

She doesn’t seem to mind that he visits, though, and as time passes, she starts getting obviously weaker, physically, magically, and mentally. She starts talking to him like she did when he was a kid in between those angry outbursts, before he proved to be nothing but a bloodtraitor, shaming his good family name by running around with Dumbledore’s lot. And the little kid in Sirius— the one still desperate for approval from his mother— eats it up, prompting him to visit more, even maybe spend a few nights in the house. It’s not perfect— more often than not, she still seems to hate him— but there’s just enough sweetness on Walburga’s part that makes Sirius think that maybe, maybe he could change her mind, maybe he could get this to work even though it definitely won’t.

She’s pleased when Harry’s born and he’s named godson, even if the brat’s only a halfblood, because an alliance with the Potters is a step in the right direction, even if they aren’t Sacred Twenty-Eight. She lets him show her pictures, and remarks how lucky his godson is to take after his father, and even on one occasion meets him, when a babysitting Sirius pops in to pick up a present for Harry he’d left at Grimmauld. But she’s still getting worse, still getting sicker and crazier and meaner despite all this.

Eventually, of course, Sirius’ visits stop, and Walburga finds out he’s in Azkaban thanks to the Prophet. She gets sicker, and weaker, and eventually dies in 1985, leaving behind only her family name and holdings and a hope that maybe someday, Sirius will be freed, and he’ll do what’s right by the family.

Sirius told Harry he never came back to Grimmauld after he ran away. I think it’s more interesting if he was lying.

#sirius black #walburga black #orion black #harry potter #harry potter headcanon

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