#i will not talk anyway because i disabled my microphone
the silence in online classes when the teacher asks the class a question is always SO loud
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Pink and Totalitarianism Always Go Hand in Hand
Here’s the promised crack fic. Disclaimer, this is terrible in every and any form, because it is meant to be that way. If you want quality, structure, a story that makes sense, this ain’t it chief. This is certified Crack. If you finish this and all you can say is something along the lines of “what the fuck”, my work here is done. (Besides, this isn’t edited to add to the overall crack vibe)
Enjoy and good luck, because it get worse and worse as it goes
Masterlist in bio // pinned post
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Word count: 4626
Warnings: Mention of drugs, light non-graphic violence, language
Summary: You’re stuck in a world that does not make sense, alone and surrounded by secret police and spies that will report you to the government. One early morning, Jason appears in your living room. His arrival gives you an opportunity to get the hell out of there for good.
You had taken a habit of sleeping lightly.
You, who had once cherished your sleep like it was the rarest gem in the world. Yet, you found out you had still severely underappreciated its importance in your life, something you realized only when it was gone. You missed it like an old friend who was gone to war and died on the front, leaving words forever unsaid. What would you do for just one more night in your bed, with your own pillows and that drool stain that just wouldn’t leave anymore, sleeping like a log until the late morning. Or just a nap, that even would be enough. But you were far from home now, and you didn’t have a lot of hope you’d ever come back.
When you heard a loud thump in the living room, your eyes flew open and your muscles tensed. Pushing off the pink comforter and pulling on the equally pink robe that was draped over the wooden chair, you carefully made your way down the corridor and toward the sound. A man dressed in black and red, with a red helmet complementing his strange outfit was standing there, looking around like he was trying to understand what was going on. You plastered a smile on your face.
“Hiya there” The corner of your mouth hurt from the strain of smiling so wide. “Can I help you?”
“Uh?” He looked up, and even through his helmet you could assume his eyes were wide with confusion. They wouldn’t get you this time, you’d make sure of it. He didn’t fool anyone. “Where am I?”
“Silly!” You laughed, waving your hand in a small dismissive gesture. “We’re in Happy Town, obviously!”
“Uh?” He repeated, already visibly exhausted. That one agent lasted longer than the last, you had to give him that. His confusion was credible and well played down to the last detail. “Listen, lady, I’m sorry I crashed your house but I need you to point me toward Metropolis”
“Metropolis? I haven’t heard of a city of that name” You didn’t drop the smile. The goddamn smile. “Although, you are quite illegal sir, black and red are prohibited colors”
“I’m afraid you’ll need to change” You explained. “Luckily for you, I have spares in the bedroom. Come along”
“Wait, prohibited?” He repeated, and you nodded eagerly. A test, it’s always a test. “What colors aren’t prohibited then?”
“Well, pink, you silly goose!”
He stared at you for the longest time. “What the fuck”
You froze. Actual agents were not allowed to swear, under any circumstances. They were physically not able to, even. “What did you say?”
“I said what the fuck”
You let your smile drop and sighed in relief. “Oh thank fuck”
“Hey, stay with me” He waved a hand in your face. “What the fuck is going on? Where am I?”
“Okay, we don’t have a lot of time, but basically” You paused, looking around to make sure all of your curtains were closed. You found a way to disable your microphones, but you had only to sunrise before they turned back on again. It was less suspicious that way, when you could attribute the lack of sound to you sleeping. Besides, you couldn’t risk you saying incriminating things in your sleep. “We are in a side dimension called Happy Town, but things are sketchy here. I don’t know what they are hiding, but if you don’t stick to their gimmick to the letter, you’re going to reeducation camps and stuff. This is some serious brainwashing, and I’m talking worse than Scientology”
“Fuck” He swore, taking off his helmet. “How did I get here?”
“Some portal, I dropped in the same place you did” You spoke quickly, in a hushed tone. “I haven’t found a way out, obviously, but if you came from Earth too, I’m betting there’s something I missed”
“This is insane”
“You tell me” You scoffed. “And you haven’t even seen how bonkers this place really is yet”
“Do I really have to wear pink?” He flinched, and your eyes widened.
“Yes, you do!” You replied. “They will have you under scrutinization as soon as you step out of this house. If you want to survive, you must follow the rules to the letter. They don’t fuck around, I tell ya. When I first appeared, all the neighbors moved away and were immediately replaced by other creepier neighbors. I swear they’re spies. They’re all spies!”
“Wait, how long have you been there?”
“I don’t know, years?” You guessed. Could have been any measure of time really, you couldn’t know for sure. “I have no idea how I got through their brainwashing sessions. Either I outsmarted them, or they have no idea what they’re doing. It’s better not to take any chance, though”
“This is fucked up” He sighed and sat on the couch. “Besides wearing pink, what do I have to do?”
“Oh boy, sit tight” You began pacing in front of him. You didn’t know him, but he was your best chance at getting the hell out of here. Your bed now seemed a little bit closer now, even though you knew you’d never sleep the same. “It’s not just the clothing that’s pink, it’s any fabric, by the way, because happy people like pink”
It was like he was now aware that every couch, chair, carpet, curtain in your house was actually pink.
“You gotta smile, always. You gotta look like chuck-e-cheese on crack” You continued, pacing in front of him. “Talking of which, never, EVER eat pie. I don’t know what’s in it, but it messes with your brain. Always find an excuse or distraction to avoid eating it”
“Never allude to the microphones you might find, act like you’ve never seen them and have no idea they’re there” You added. “Also, tomorrow we’ll have to get you registered if we don’t want the secret police to storm the house. You’ll have to follow my lead or we’re both dead, got it?”
“Don’t say anything incriminating during the day” You interrupted him again. “I tweaked the microphones so they’re scrambled from midnight to sunrise. But that’s it. Also, always assume anyone you talk to is a spy or a snitch. It’s the Stasi all over again here, you can’t trust anyone who you don’t hear swear, which is nobody”
“Wai wait” He stopped you as you opened your mouth to continue on. “Why?”
“Because the people from here cannot swear, happy people don’t swear, they smile and giggle” You felt your eye twitch as you recited the lines you were fed over and over again. “The people engineered here are not able to, only those they kidnapped from Earth. Bad news is, beside that, they are virtually non-differentiable from each other. And they all wear those stupid pink clothes, only the regular police wears a darked shade of magenta. Other than that, all the same”
Confusion and horror was evident on his face. He sat there, processing it all as your eyes fell on the clock. You had about ten minutes until the first rays of sun showed up and reactivated the mics. “There’s no way back?” He finally asked.
“Not that I know of yet” You wrapped your hands around yourself. “You know, I have been begging for help out of this hell hole. You might be the key. Anyway, we gotta change you into something non offensive before they find out you’re here”
You dragged him in the bedroom, leaving him at the threshold while you rummaged through the dresser. All those clothes had been there too when you popped in the house, as if they had known exactly what they were doing by bringing you here. However, it wasn’t clear whether or not they had planned for their new citizen to be you. Ad judging by the arsenal of weapons on the new guy, ir reinforced your theory that the actual selection was still experimental. You weren’t exactly the shut up and obey type, and you doubted he was either.
“What’s your name?” You asked as you pulled a pink cardigan out of a drawer. It occured to you that you might have to know what to call him. Polite people knew the name of their housemate. You grabbed a yet again pink pair of slacks and pushed the clothes in his hands.
“Uh, Jason” He replied, surprised at the sudden income of pink fabric. You threw him the socks, suspenders, bow tie, belt and dress shirt that was, you guessed it, the exact same color as the rest. He was covered in pink clothes like a coat hanger.
“Hey, I’m not wearing that” He objected as he took a better look at the clothes. His face turned to disdain as he shook his head like he had drank bad milk. “Nope, no way”
“If you don’t wear pink, they’ll kill you” You said through your teeth.
“No, I’m not talking about the pink” He said, his expression unchanging. He pulled the cardigan and held it up. “This. This won’t do at all. I’m not wearing a fucking cardigan”
You stared at him, wide eyed. You didn’t have the time to deal with that, sunrise was a few minutes away!
“You will wear that cardigan or so help me” You said in a low, yet threatening voice. He recoiled. “Suck. It. Up.”
Wordlessly, he headed for the bathroom on the other side of the bedroom. He changed in two minutes, coming back awkwardly with his pile of dark clothes. You picked them from him and walked to that spot just beside your bed, and kneeled. You unscrewed the floor board, which was already loose, and you deposited the bundle, weapons and all, next to a very, very dusty blue jeans and burgundy coat. You hurried to replace everything like it hadn’t been touched and stood up again to face an all pink, visibly uncomfortable Jason. He was tying his bow, a displeased frown on his face. It made you wonder what was his life before. He changed rather quickly, and didn’t seem confused by the way bow ties worked.
“We gel your hair”
“No” His eyes widened. The wake up siren sounded outside, and like a reflex learned through violent lessons, your face pulled into a pained smile. You still made a zipping motion over your mouth, pointing to the bathroom. With a silent sigh, he complied.
His smile looked unnatural.
But again, so did yours probably. So did everyone’s. Smiling that much wasn’t natural for anyone or anything but perhaps a hyena. Or a clown. You walked arms in arms with him, waving at people sending you curious glances, their smiles unwavering. The government was already aware of this presence, either because they zapped him there or because they heard your made up meeting conversation through the microphones.
“Okay, I see what you meant by everyone is a spy” He muttered through his teeth, making sure his lips weren’t moving. He was holding to his grin like it was a lifeline. And it was.
“Right?” You replied in the same manner. “So don’t slip”
“Well hello there!”
You jumped in surprise at the Mayor appearing in front of you, seemingly out of nowhere. You put your free hand on your heart and laughed. “Hi there, you startled me good!”
He laughed. Jason laughed. It all seemed forced.
“I see we have an addition in Happy Town!” The mayor pointed to Jason, nodding in approval at his attire. “Where did you come from?”
His first test.
“I… Came from Earth!” He replied with enthusiasm. “Although I have to say, I looooove this place. It’s so… Happy!”
Well played, Jason. Well played.
“I am so glad to hear you say that” He placed a “friendly” pat on his shoulder, but he seemed satisfied. “What is your name, lad?”
“Dick Grayson, sir”
You swallowed back your confusion at his words, but also at the hint of genuine smile that crossed his expression. Keep smiling.
“Well Mr. Grayson, welcome to Happy Town!” They shook hands. “I see Miss (Y/N) is already taking care of you, integrating you nicely in our community”
His gaze shifted to you as a silent warning behind those cold, smiling eyes. You had your fair history of problems with them, but they had every reason to think it was over now. Still, the warning lingered. But those pink assholes wouldn’t catch you this time.
“I’ll make sure he becomes one of us in no time!” You assured, giving a light nod to Jason.
“No doubt you’ll make an amazing couple” He tipped his pink hat and you noticed Jason held back a cough of surprise. “The daily play of the anthem is about to start, I must return to city hall. I’ll see you around!”
He waved. You waved. Jason waved. He walked away with a skip in his step like the happy jerk he was.
“Couple?” He said, coming back to your public mode of communicating.
“Sorry, I should have warned you” You sighed internally.
“Yeah!” You wanted to burst out so bad. “What about it, Dick Grayson?”
“I wasn’t about to give them my real name” He defended, watching around for people noticing your hushed conversation. But everybody was preparing for the anthem, their attention directed to the morning messages man on the giant screens.
“So you gave that poor guy’s instead?”
“Poor? Nah. Relax, he can take care of himself” What you were sure was a chuckle escaped his lips. “Besides, he’s not even--”
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise for our national anthem”
You elbowed Jason and stood up straight, the sun hitting the side of your face. He mimicked your posture. The music started, and you could see faltering in the corner of your eye.
“What the fuck”
“Stay with me” You urged silently. You really didn’t know how or why Happy Town’s anthem came to be ‘Yeah!’ by Usher feat Lil Jon and Ludacris, but even if you did, now was not the ideal time or place to get into that kind of discussion. You suspected it had something to do with the exclamation mark after the ‘yeah’. But you could be wrong. You still didn’t understand the bigger picture however, since the lyrics clearly contained the word ‘not’ followed directly by ‘happy’ in the first verse, which made ‘not happy’. It was against the party line.
“Okay, we stage a coup tonight” He decided as the song ended. “I don’t think I can do this another day”
Midnight came slowly.
After a day of mingling and presenting Jason as Dick Grayson and your future husband like the Mayor had most probably hinted at during your morning encounter, of slyly getting out of eating pie and avoiding the police, you were glad to finally breathe.
“UUUUGH” Jason whined, plopping on the couch. “I can never look at the color pink the same way ever again. I’m sick of it, sick of it!”
“Get it together!” You snapped. “We need to plan our coup. We’ve got one shot for it, and if it fails we’re toast. I need my bed, Jason. MY BED”
“Alright, what do you have in mind?” He asked, taking a deep breath. “You know this place more than I do”
“I say tomorrow night, we quietly follow the police after their curfew patrol round” You began, biting the skin around your nails. “How good is your stealth?”
He looked at you blankly for a good ten seconds before he let out a small, ironic snort. “Above average, I’d say”
It was like he wanted you to ask why he’d think that, but you were too busy thinking about your plan. “Good, good” You nodded. “There must be some headquarters somewhere. All we have to do is get there, threaten them at gunpoint--Your guns are functional yes?”
“--So they’ll zap us back to Earth. And if not, we shoot the mayor and take control of this hell”
“That escalated quickly,” He stated. “But what the hell, sure, I’m on board. Let’s go”
“Tomorrow the sun sets at 8:07. We’ll need to be changed and ready to go by then”
“Wait, tomorrow?” He sprung up in his seat, eyes wide. “No, no. I can’t take one more day of pink cardigans and pleasant conversations with spies!”
“DEAL WITH IT” You gestured wildly before calming down almost instantly. You didn’t need the neighbors to hear and report a fight. “Patrol is already over for today. Be smart about this”
“Fine” He sighed aggressively. “But if this flops, I’m taking everyone down with me. There won’t be an after tomorrow, I can fucking tell you”
“Yeah I won’t stop you”
You stayed there in silence, unmoving for a moment. This was it. The moment you’ve been waiting for. Your liberation. Your bed was less than 24 hours a day if things went as planned, which you hoped it would.
“I’ll… Sleep on the couch” He mumbled after a while, moving to lay down. YOur eyes widened.
“You can’t” You objected, knowing the government would find a way to find out the scam you were running through that detail.
“If the secret police comes for a surprise inspection and your side of the bed is cold, we’re kaputt” You explained. “We’re supposed to be at the very least fiancés, remember?”
“God fucking dammit” He swore, looking up at the sky like it would help him. Ha, you already tried that and it didn’t work.
The next day, as you prepared the decaf pot of coffee because happy people didn’t need caffeine to be happy, a knock sounded on your door. Jason was taking a shower in the bathroom, so you went and opened the door. Like you had predicted, two men in dark magenta stood at your doorstep with dangerous looking smiles.
“Good morning ma’am” One greeted with a tip of his hat. “This is a surprise inspection, warranted by the new arrivant in your household, name Dick Grayson and title husband to be. May we come in?”
Your smile widened as you stepped aside, like you actually had a choice in the matter.
“Of course!” You exclaimed. “Coffee, officers?”
“We’ll have to politely decline, thank you” The other smiled as they came in and observed the clean state of the house. All houses were required to be neat and clean at all times. They looked around for something out of place, slowly but surely directing themselves to the bedroom at the end of the hall. You followed them a few paces away, ready to answer their question if they had some. It wasn’t your first surprise check.
They finally reached the room, from where they could hear the shower running. Their gazes caught the neatly folded pink pile on the bed, then they surrounded it. They started to feel under the comforter and drapes, on the pillows, everywhere they could spot the presence or absence of another person. You called it, oh you so called it.
The shower stopped, and both officers shared a look. “Alright, everything is in order ma’am. Have a good breakfast and a good day!”
You escorted them to the door, threw them a thank you on the way and silently sighed once the door closed behind them. You returned to your coffee, and not long after, Jason emerged from the hallway all dressed in pink.
“Ooh, who were the gentlemen here?” He inquired cheerily, but you knew what it meant.
“Some nice officers came to see if we were doing fine here!” You replied with equal cheer.
“Shucks, I missed them” He snapped his fingers, chuckling. “Next time perhaps”
“Of course!” The pep in your voice did not match your eye roll. Thank god there were no cameras.
You finished breakfast and went to town once again, like you did everyday. You felt like everyone was staring at you even more than usual. Like they all knew what you planned for that night. You might have been slightly paranoid, but Jason’s calm demeanor was helping. He was good at that, like he had practiced for all of his life to deceive people.
The mayor bothered you again after the daily play of the anthem, a song you were sure would elicit a violent reaction from you once you would be back in the real world. Then, you repeated the same daily routine you had had forever. Smile, avoid the pie, smile, talk with the neighbors-spies, smile, think about how life is amazing, smile.
Smile smile smile smile smile smile.
That night, the pleasant conversations contained codes to trump the microphones. Jason pretended to dance while you unscrewed the loose floorboard and carefully placed his clothes and weapons on the bed. You picked your old clothes, quietly dusting them off. They smelled weird but you were excited to wear something other than pepto bismol dyed fabric. Making sure the curtains were drawn, you proceeded to change. Jason looked ecstatic to finally be rid of his cardigan, while you took a moment to appreciate your black t-shirt and burgundy coat. While he had his red helmet, he handed you a domino mask from his pocket. You had no idea why he had that, but you took it anyway. It looked cool and rebel. You sneaked through the back door, avoiding the spots of light by either lamps outside your house and street posts. You watched the patrol casually making sure everyone was inside, keeping a good distance in between you and them at every time. They weren’t talking, but whistling some creepy tunes. You had to make a small hike through a hill when they entered a gated tunnel, but you ended up in front of a giant factory where workers dressed in grey buzzed around with crates. YOu gasped.
“Illegal” You muttered.
You shook your head. They had gotten to you too much, it was time you left that god forsaken place. “Nevermind. How do we go through that barbed wire?”
He pulled out a medium sized pair of cutters from… You had no idea where, but he had them. You shrugged, gesturing to him to go ahead. In a blink, you were in. You sneaked inside without being seen, navigating the building with guesses and feelings. You finally ended up in the main production room, where crates of products were opened and emptied in a giant bassin. The stirred liquid was purple and smelled strange, but you knew it was to do no good. And right beside, there was the pie filling packaging.
“I knew it!” You hissed under your breath. “They’re putting drugs in the pie! Can you see what it is? Cocaine? Heroin?
“Doesn’t seem like…” He leaned in. “Wait…”
“Al-- Allegra?” You managed to read the crate.”Never heard of it, but it must be terrible and dangerous”
Jason turned his head and stared at you. HIs helmet bore no expression, but you were sure he looked at you like you were dumb. Did he know what it was? “Are you kidding me?”
“Allegra is--” He sighed. “It’s allergy medication. It’s… Not drugs per say”
“God dammit--” He paused as something caught his eyes. It was sparkly, and unfit for this environment. From it emerged five armed guys dressed in earth clothes. They had a bag of white substance, which was tasted by the man who welcomed them. “Of fuck, THAT’s cocaine”
You waited as they put some of it in a vial, which already had purple liquid.
“Fuck, they mix it with allegra?” He cursed, mostly to himself. “What kind of fucking insane dimension did I step in?”
“I told you”
“Okay, so those guys will have to leave eventually” Jason pointed at the visibly Earth humans. “We’ll make sure we catch it as well”
“But they have machine guns” You pointed out, not sure how his mind worked.
“Wait for my signal” You knew he was grinning under that helmet. Before you could ask him how the fuck he would manage five armed guys, he jumped over the rail and started running toward them. You shut your eyes shut as gunshots went off, then opened them again when it was silent. There were bodies around, but Jason was still standing, wrestling with two guys. You watched for a few seconds when you noticed a pink figure sneakily approaching from behind, a frying pan in his hand.
You jumped over the rail too, but your landing was way less graceful than Jason’s. Actually, you were pretty sure you sprained your ankle. But still, you ran-limped to the man and jumped on his back before he could bonk Jason’s head with his weapon.
He did not see you coming, as he lost balance at your attack. You crashed on the ground, where you managed to get on top and start hitting him. But apparently neither of you knew how to punch, so it was a rather pathetic looking fight. You swapped and slapped, pulled hair and scratched, until you got a hold of his pan and made a pancake of his face.
“Take that you pink fucking nightmare” You spat as you stood up. You turned to Jason, whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.
“Wow uh” He covered it with a cough. “That sure was an interesting fight to watch”
“Keep mocking me, mister fucking assassin” You rolled your eyes. “I stopped him from bonking your head”
“Alright, alright, thank you”
“No problem” You replied. “Let’s get out of here”
You went and stood on the platform the dealers came through, then waited. But nothing happened.
“I think we need to activate it” He spoke up. That was logical.
You scanned the room for a panel control, and you believed you spotted it on the opposite wall. You grabbed your shoe to throw at it, before Jason held back your arm’s motion.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Activating the portal” You furrowed your brows, pointing at the panel. A big red button on which was written ‘ON’ was glaring at you from the distance. Practical target.
“Don’t throw your shoe, that’s dumb” He snorted. “Let me”
Before you could argue, he cocked his gun and fired a bullet right on the button. A death sound resonated, but nevertheless sparks began to fly and not just from the ruined panel. The portal opened and swallowed you, sending you through flashes and weird colors until you were spat out in a dull, dark place that smelled bad. Jason seemed to have landed just fine, but you were another story. You pulled yourself up, whining at the pain in your ankle.
“I didn’t expect to see you here”
A creepy, unknown voice made you both turn around. It was a pale man with an unnaturally stretched smile and bad taste in clothes, and right away it made you think the worst. You had been thrown in Dark!Happy Town. Without thinking, you let out a war cry and hurled your frying pan to the more evil version of the Mayor, knocking him out instantly.
What you didn’t expect though, was the roaring laughter from beside you.
“Oh--Oh my god” He could barely talk. “I wished I filmed that”
“What? What’s happening?” You asked. Had he gone crazy? “Who’s that? We’re not back home are we?”
“Relax, we’re back” He took a deep breath, his shoulders still shaking. “You’ve just knocked out the most wanted criminal in Gotham city”
“Welcome back, (Y/N), welcome back”
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Is This Thing On?
“You, my dear Shan, are a hard man to find at the best of times.” Theron smirked, just a little, as he sipped his drink from the half-hidden booth he’d chosen, gesturing for Jonas Balker to sit in the opposite seat. Both agents toasted one another, and Theron leaned forward a little into the light, chuckling when Jonas swore heavily at the bruises and cuts marring his face. “And what the hell kind of shit have you been in this time?”
“C’mon now, Balker, I know you know what I’ve been up to, I’ve been fending off your droids for months now all over Rishi so that Lana didn’t stab me. Besides, they look worse than they are.” Jonas glared him down…and sighed a little, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a long draught off his own whiskey.
“Force help me, I do. So, the Revanites…”
“Currently in rout on Yavin-4; we’re now working with the Grandmaster of the Jedi and Darth Marr to build a joint operation…which you also know about, because I know I saw you in and out of the Imperial camps at least twice. You fit the uniform just fine, but that accent sucks.” Jonas flipped him the bird, but shook his head and smiled anyway, and they fell into familiar roles, bantering back and forth as they exchanged information both useful and already used, that rare combination of being both spies and best friends since they were teenagers…and as they ordered fresh drinks, Jonas paused a little bit, and looked like he’d bitten a lemon. Theron just sighed.
“C’mon, out with it.”
“…are you alright after that torture?” His voice was low, soft, and honestly concerned…and Theron gave his friend a faint smile, lacing his gloved fingers together and leaning in a little. Closing his eyes, Theron took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, calming his thoughts, his whole being, drawing on everything Master Zho had ever taught him, because even with the stunt he’d pulled to escape…it had been horrific. The pain wasn’t as bad as the mindprobe, and even now, Theron shuddered at the memory of Revan’s casual perusal of his very soul…but he’d gotten his revenge, in the sweetest way possible, and that had also gotten him the opportunity to break free.
“It was…it was bad. Very bad. But you remember those holovids I had to watch all the time when I was a kid? The ones that were made specifically for the Shan family?” Jonas blinked, suddenly confused by the change of subject, but nodded anyway, well aware even now of the ranting Theron used to go off on about the utter stupidity of those vids…and Theron grinned. “Well, I kept a special link of ‘em for the explicit reason of throwing it back in Revan’s face if I ever got the chance. And that idiot gave me the perfect opening.”
“Damn right I did.”
“How the fuck were you not stabbed?”
“I have no clue. But it worked, I escaped, and here we are.” Jonas narrowed his eyes, and pointed accusingly at Theron now, who was trying to pull his best injured innocent face over the wicked grin.
“Bullshit, there’s so much more to that story, and you owe me the whole thing, Shan.”
“Fine, fine, but we’re gonna need more drinks.” He slapped down a full credit chip on the table, and Theron felt his grin widen even further. “Alrighty then, strap in, because this is gonna be fun…”
Eighteen years earlier…
Padawan Theron Shan, thirteen, arms crossed, robes a mess, his lip busted open from the last scuffle, stared resolutely at the wall as Masters Kaedan, Bakarn, and Zho tried to figure out a suitable punishment. Fighting between Padawans was strictly prohibited, of course, short of controlled sparring, but defending a Padawan who was disabled from several of the wealthier children of the elite on Coruscant did merit some praise…but he’d still started a fight. Ngani Zho sighed faintly, and turned to his wayward pupil.
“Theron, please speak to us. We understand why you fought as you did, and we want you to know that defending Padawan Ask’lil is a noble, kind thing…but you still cannot brawl as you did today.” Theron shrugged, slouched as he was in the chair, still glaring a hole in the wall, and it was Syo who shook his head.
“I fear we won’t be getting through to him this way, Ngani; however, there are the old holovids we could show him. It might be good to give Theron a sense of right.” Master Zho noticed Theron glance up at that, but didn’t call him on it, only nodding a little in confusion. Certainly, they had many holovids for Padawans to learn from, but he wasn’t sure what Syo was talking about…until a familiar figure appeared, and Zho had to keep himself from dropping his head in his hands.
“Is this thing on, love?”
“Oh good—-CRAP. Uh…okay. Ignore that. Ahem.” Righting the microphone in the vid, they watched as none other than Revan himself smoothed his robes down, gave the camera a weak smile, and launched into what was possibly the most boring ‘you must keep to the side of Light!’ speech Ngani had ever heard. Now he knew why he’d forgotten this; he’d repressed the memories from when Satele was young.
Theron was staring in horror now, glancing around the room as if looking for escape, and Ngani grimaced in sympathy, because this was just…painful to sit through. Everything from “even thinking impure thoughts can lead to the Dark side” to “Remember, the best way to end a fight is by talking out your differences.” It was cringe-worthy at best, and as the holo finally came to a close, he resisted the urge to punch Kaedan and Bakarn both. Barely.
“…and remember the Jedi Code. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.” Revan winked out, the room finally quiet…and as the Masters stood up to leave, Theron took his chance and bolted out the door. Ngani didn’t have it in him to stop the boy, and though both Syo and Jaric were disgruntled, he calmed them down with a few words and made his way back to their rooms.
“Master, please please do not let them show me that again.” Theron’s voice came from his hiding place in the vents, and Zho chuckled, motioning for his Padawan to come down.
“I’ll do my best, lad, but you’ve got along way to go. Now, come down and let us work on your form…”
“Oh c’mon, not another round of this stupid vid…”
“Then stop picking fights with other Padawans, Theron!”
“It’s not my fault they have punchable faces…”
“Is this thing on, love?”
“Oh good—-CRAP. Uh…okay. Ignore that. Ahem. Welcome, young Padawans, and may the Force be with you…”
“You have to watch it.”
“Is this thing on, love?”
“Oh good—-CRAP. Uh…okay. Ignore that. Ahem. Welcome, young Padawans, and may the Force—-”
“I know you’re awake, Theron.”
“Is this thing on, love?”
“Oh good—-CRAP. Uh…okay. Ignore that. Ahem. Welcome, young Padawans, and may the Force—-”
“Is this thing on, love?”
“Oh good—-CRAP. Uh…okay. Ignore that. Ahem. Welcome, young Padawans, and may the Force—-”
“I hate this shit.”
“I do too, lad.”
“We could just leave and let it play…or destroy it.”
“And risk listening to Jaric scream all week long? I’d rather listen to Revan.”
“Theron, stop swearing.”
“All due respect, Master: fuck no.”
"Remember, the best way to end a fight is by talking out your differences.”
“Did you hear that, Theron? We should talk things out.”
Six weeks prior
Panting, blood trickling from his half-fried implants, head pounding, Theron closed his eyes and took a deep breath, fighting back a whimper as his two broken ribs seared through his abdomen. He hated interrogation tables for a number of reasons, as did any other sane being, but at least he was lying down at the moment; gravity was not kind to injuries when vertical. And the blinding light that they’d been using on him was off too, small mercies for that…and Revan had also left, which allowed Theron to rest a little before figuring out his next move.
I could just…break out and leave, there’s enough little ways to escape, but with my ribs, the vents and holes in the cave ceiling aren’t possible…I could take out a guard and dress up, but I don’t know the codes…and his people are too paranoid. Dammit…shooting my way out might be the only option… He turned his head to the right to peer through the darkness, narrowing his eyes as he studied the console…and a spark of joy leapt in him when he realized he could see a link between his implants and the console. It’s a Republic model! These idiots must have stolen from Alderaan, because I know that code all too well…
Then, a sudden, vicious grin stretched over his handsome features, and Theron Shan activated the link, uploading an obscure old video to the whole of the Revanite compound as he also had his manacles unlocked and the door opened.
“Take this, you fucking hypocrite.”
"Is this thing on, love?”
“Oh good—-CRAP. Uh…okay. Ignore that. Ahem. Welcome, young Padawans, and may the Force be with you…”
Theron’s laughter could be heard over the alarms sounding as he grabbed up his blasters and hightailed it out the door.
Sipping his fourth drink now and feeling a delightful buzz, Theron grinned at Jonas’ face. The older spy looked like he’d been slapped by a fish, jaw dropped, drink frozen in midair, and Theron couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up, wheezing a little as his ribs twinged in warning under the bandages.
“You’re a mad bastard.”
“And you’re surprised by this?”
“No, just…impressed. Honestly so impressed. How in the name of the Force did that go down?”
“Oh, I probably got us shot at a whole lot more when Revan saw that, he was furious, but damn, it was worth it. My…partners in crime were confused until I explained it, then Lana actually congratulated me for throwing the whole base into chaos.” Jonas just shook his head, finally downing his drink, and Theron slouched back into the warmth of the booth, content to rest for a while longer yet.
“So…how did your…ah…the Grandmaster take it?” Theron smirked at that, and Jonas groaned.
“Let me guess, she hated it too?”
“With a passion. Apparently, all the Shans have been…rather combative since then, I wonder why, and so the Order kept that vid in safe keeping for any future Shans to watch and ‘learn from’. Which…really, has never worked. She thought it was the funniest fucking thing and that was the most bonding we had in years, pretty much since I was born. She patched me up as we talked about it, might just make a habit of spending time with her after all, especially since she’s mellowed out with age.”
“…Wow, I never would have guessed that that would be the outcome of all of that…but what about your old master? I know you lost him before all of this…” Theron gazed out over the cantina, and felt a faint smile touch his lips in fond memory.
“…Master Zho would be proud.”
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Flying for Dummies
This oneshot was actually written for one of the fanzines, and I have been waiting months to be able to share it with you! I hope you enjoy “Flying for Dummies”, which is set before the season 1 episode titled The Snake King!
“Got any…. 4’s?” Lloyd asked, boredom tinging his voice. There wasn’t a whole lot to be done on the Bounty currently (the others were off on a mission, and his uncle was off doing… something), and this was far from exciting. Nya scanned the stack of playing cards she was holding. He waited impatiently.
“Nope. Go fish.” the boy gave a long-suffering sigh and plucked a card from the middle (because convenience was for losers) of the pile.
“Okay, my turn,” stated Nya, sounding only slightly more enthusiastic than Lloyd, “Got any 7’s?” he eyed his dwindling supply of cards dejectedly, but ultimately handed over several.
“What about…. 3’s? I’m pretty sure you have at least 2 of them.” She speculated, watching his expression change from mere boredom to annoyance. Tossing her the last of his cards, Lloyd complained,
“Aw… Come on…. how did you know?” he pointed at her impressive collection of matches and continued.
“You gotta be cheating… no one’s that good at Go Fish…” The teen shrugged.
“Your face told me everything I needed to know, Lloyd. I’m not cheating, I promise. Just better at focusing.” the boy didn’t look like he believed her.
“You wanna play another round, or?” she inquired, not really thrilled with the idea herself. Lloyd shook his head vigorously.
“No… Please no. Isn’t there anything else we can do?” he begged. Nya frowned for a moment, thinking.
“We could… play Candy-land?”
“Draw a picture?”
“…Start a load of laundry?” Lloyd stared at the teen as though she were crazy, complaining,
“You actually think I’d do that willingly so soon after the pink gi incident? It took me hours to get the color out…”
“Hm…” The floorboards creaked as the flying ship shifted positions slightly. The movement sparked an idea in Nya’s brain.
“I know! Come with me!” she cried, shooting up from her chair.
“Huh? But where are we going?” he called after her, confused.
“The bridge, of course. It’s time you learned how to steer the Bounty!”
“This is gonna be so cool!” Lloyd exclaimed, skipping excitedly into the control room, “You can teach me how to fire the cannons, and do loop de loops, and all sorts of other cool flying tricks!”
“Woah, hold your horses, there! Don’t you think maybe we should start with something, I dunno, a little simpler? I’d rather not get ourselves killed today if it’s all the same to you…” Nya asked, swatting his hands away from the steering wheel before he could give it a good spin.
“Oh… okay,” the boy replied. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he made a show of reigning in his excitement.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Maybe the basics? Like what the different buttons do, so you actually know the difference between the light switch and the fire alarm and don’t wake up the entire ship at 3 AM?” she suggested.
“C’mon Nya, no one’s that dumb,” Lloyd protested with another eye roll.
“Wait – seriously?”
“It was dark, Sis, how was I supposed to know that the fire alarm looks exactly like the light switch?!” Nya said in her very best Kai voice. He considered this explanation for a moment.
“Y’know, on second thought, I’m not surprised by that at all,” the boy decided. She bit back a laugh.
“Yeah. He can be… a little overzealous at times…”
“You sure you don’t mean clueless?”
“Well yeah, that too. But anyway, wouldn’t you rather be learning about the Bounty?” deflected Nya, not wanting to give Lloyd more excuses to annoy Kai. He was becoming quite good at it already.
“Definitely. We can talk about Kai’s dorkiness anytime,” he agreed.
“Okay, so. Most stuff is labeled with glow in the dark stickers, now, but I’ll still show you the most important ones,” she began, pointing to buttons and explaining what they did. When Nya reached a smallish button near a microphone, she told him,
“This is the intercom. You can use it to contact people anywhere on the ship, though sometimes I like to use it to mess with the guys. Wanna try it out?”
“Oh, um. Sure?” Lloyd’s eyes widened.
“Here,” Nya handed him the microphone, “You just press down on the button and start talking.”
“Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain speaking. We’re in for a bit of a bumpy ride, since a group of Serpentine are headed our way! Better take cover, folks!” He cried, deepening his voice for dramatic effect.
“Serpentine?! Oh no!” she chimed in, pretending to go faint, “This is the worst possible thing that could happen!”
“Don’t worry, Admiral Nya! I’ll fly us to safety!” Lloyd assured her, patting her shoulder a bit harder than necessary, “Er… how… how do I do that?” letting out a giggle at his temporary break in character, Nya took charge.
“Well, first you gotta disable the anchor, or we won’t be able to go anywhere,” she told him.
“Oh, right. And uh, how would I do that?”
“The big lever to your right.” Instructed the raven haired teen.
He pushed it as far back as it would go. A loud grinding noise could be heard as the anchor was raised.
“Good,” she encouraged, “I think you might be ready for some basic steering lessons now.”
“Awesome!” Lloyd breathed, hardly believing his luck.
“Just try not to crash, okay?” Nya reminded him. He smirked at her, the picture of innocence.
“Okaaay. So. First of all, you have to turn on the thruster – that’s kinda like a car’s gas pedal, it’s what makes the Bounty move without relying on the wind currents.”
“The thrusters make the Bounty go, got it,” he confirmed.
“Yep, and then we have the steering wheel, which is pretty self-explanatory-”
The big screen in front of them flashed with a notification about an incoming message, interrupting Nya’s train of thought.
“That must be the boys wanting us to come pick them up. Sorry, Lloyd, looks like we’re gonna have to cut your flying lessons short for the day…” she stated apologetically.
“Not necessarily,” Lloyd said, a concerningly devious look on his face, “You… you could always let me steer on the way there?”
Nya frowned, apprehensive.
“I dunno, Lloyd… when I said basic steering lessons, I was thinking of a quick circle around the nearest field, not flying all the way to Jamanakai Village…”
“Pleeaaase, Nya? I promise I’ll be extra super careful and listen to everything you say...” the boy begged. She weighed her options carefully.
When Kai, Jay, Cole, and Zane climbed up onto the deck of the Destiny’s Bounty, like they had many times before, they were surprised to find Nya, rather than their blonde gremlin of a charge, cheerfully waiting to greet them. It took them longer than it should’ve to realize exactly what was wrong with this picture. But then it hit them.
“Nya? I want you to think about this very carefully… If you’re out here… who’s steering?!” Kai asked slowly, afraid to hear the answer.
“Lloyd. Who else?” his sister replied nonchalantly.
“What?!” Jay shrieked. The looks on their faces were priceless.
“He’s actually a pretty good pilot. He can even tell the difference between the fire alarm and the light switch.”
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All Men Dream
Bucky x Reader
Reader is enhanced with the powers to enter dreams. She originally entered Captain America's dreams just to see if she could, but kept returning to them because she loved spending time in the 1940s ease of life in his idyllic versions of the time. But what happens when the good Captain figures out something is amiss?
If you would like to be tagged in this story (I’m so excited that people actually want to read this) please send me a message!
Also let me know what you think of this chapter! I always love getting comments, suggestions, and theories!
What woke me up was not another nightmare, but the sun. I blinked awake with squinted eyes as sunlight poured through the gap in the drapes that I never closed. There was no reason to close them, I woke up before sun rise everyday anyway. Slight confusion filled me as I pondered having slept all night, but it was overridden by the feeling of restfulness. Stretching my arms above my head, I enjoyed the sensation of being well-rested, but I still couldn’t figure out why.
I tried to remember what I dreamed about, and Central Park filled my head. I had looked at ponds full of lily pads, walked around in awe of the greenery, eating a hot dog from a food stand, briefly looked for Y/N-
My thoughts cut of as Y/N reached my consciousness and the nightmare from before the park rushed me. Why was she there? Why had she helped me? Or at least what I could only assume was helping. As much as Steve believed this woman had evil intentions, something in me was disagreeing with his assessment. While I still didn’t like the idea of someone entering my mind, there was something else to this story than I knew. All I knew was that I needed to talk to her.
Turning over, I looked at the clock next to my bed and saw it was 9am. I jumped up and bolted from my room, knowing Steve and Natasha were probably already in the interrogation room. As I turned down the hallway to the kitchen, I spotted them at the table talking and eating breakfast. Slowing my stride, I contemplated what to tell them as I approached. The two noticed me about the same time. Steve had a small smile on his face as he placed the newspaper he’d been skimming down.
“Wow, this must be a new record for you sleep wise. Came to get you for our run this morning and you were still out. Did you just wake up?” Steve asked.
“Uh yeah. I had a good dream for once.” I explained as I went to the kitchen to get my normal cereal.
“What’d you dream about Barnes?” Natasha questioned in between bites of bacon.
“Central Park from the 40s,” I replied while looking at Steve for a reaction to the setting of the dream. His face scrunched a little.
“Huh. I had a dream about that a week ago. Ate a mean hot dog from a guy selling them there.” He responded. So, Y/N had really taken me to a setting from one of Steve’s dreams. That confirmed she had gone into both of our heads, but not didn’t answer the question of why. I sat down at the table with my bowl of cereal and began eating. Cereal had gotten so much better since I was a kid. Artificial flavoring was a damn godsend. After taking a couple bites I spoke.
“So, what’s the plan with dream girl?”
“That’s what we were just talking about,” Natasha said. “Got any ideas?”
“Yeah. Let me talk to her.” I replied calmly. Steve’s expression immediately switched to one of surprise and even Natasha reacted by raising an eyebrow at my declaration.
“Buck, are you sure that’s a good idea? She goes into people’s minds every night without their permission.” Steve asked softly.
“I’m not asleep and so far, I’m the only one who has been any semblance of ‘nice’ to her,” I explained while using finger quotes around the word nice. “She’ll be expecting the two of you to walk in, but I’ll be a surprise and hopefully catch her off guard.” And hopefully get her to tell me the real reason she’d been in my dream. Nat and Steve looked at each other and had another one of their stupid telepathic conversations. I didn’t know when they became able to have these silent conversations, but they annoyed the hell out of me.
“Ok,” Steve said before added a quick addition to it. “But we have to be in the viewing room at all times that you’re in there.” I huffed at the overprotectiveness but knew why he was treating the situation this way. If I had told him Y/N had been in my dream, he would have her sent to The Raft immediately with some horrific way to keep her from entering anyone’s dreams. I wasn’t sure if she deserved that treatment yet, but if she did, I’d be the first one to sign the paperwork.
The night, or at least what I assumed was the night, dragged on. After I woke up from Bucky’s dream I hadn’t been able to fall asleep again. Most of the reason for that was my fear of accidentally jumping into another Avenger’s dream. Bucky in his near catatonic state may be slightly forgiving if he remembered his dream when he woke up, but others probably would not be. My shoulders had begun to hurt hours ago from being bound to the chair and my legs kept falling asleep from the lack of movement. My ass hurt too which was just the icing on the cake. My throat had dried out hours ago and swallowing became a struggle. Stomach rumblings had been the only sound for a while but they stopped a couple hours ago.
I considered who would even realize I was missing. My parents didn’t call often, and we had spoken a few days prior, so they wouldn’t be trying to contact me. My few friends were out of town to avoid the hot New York summer. Maybe my boss would notice, but he’d probably just fire me before questioning where I was. Really the only living thing concerned about where I was would be Meatball, but that was probably just because he was hungry. Shit. I really hope that brown ball of fluff breaks the rules and eats something on the counter.
I jumped in the chair when the door swung open. Moving so suddenly caused my aching muscles to scream as they performed any bit of motion. A groan escaped me as I tried to relax in the chair slightly. In the doorway stood Bucky Barnes. A blank expression covered his face, and while I could read others well, I couldn’t figure out what the man was thinking. He shut the door behind him and made his way to stand in front of me, then crouch down to my eye level.
“I’ve disabled the microphones in here, but it won’t take long for the others to figure out how to fix them, so answer quick. Why were you in my head last night?” He questioned in a softer than usual voice. The slight kindness from yesterday was gone, and I feared my actions from the night before were not being perceived well. On the other hand, I wondered why he didn’t tell the others about me being in his head.
“It’s like I told you. I fell asleep last night, and I must have been thinking about you right before, so I accidentally ended up in your dream. It wasn’t on purpose I swear.” I explained again.
“Why were you thinking about me?”
“I’m locked in this room alone. I was running through everyone I’d met, and you were the nicest, so it must have left a decent enough imprint to send me to your dream.” I tried to explain. Blue eyes changed slightly into what I could only interpret as a contemplative expression.
“Why did you change the nightmare? Why not let it continue and just jump out of the dream when you could?”
“You were scared. Really, really terrified. I hate seeing anyone look that way. So, when you agreed to let me untie you from that chair, I knew I had to do something to make it better.” I paused for a moment before speaking again. “We all have to deal with enough horrors in our waking lives. We shouldn’t have to experience them in our dreams too.”
Bucky stayed silent for what felt like hours, but really could only have been minutes. He opened his mouth to ask another question but shut it quickly.
“Hey Buck, the microphones were off for a minute there. You ok?” Steve’s voice asked while echoing through the room.
“All good,” Bucky replied. With a quick warning glance to me, he started a new line of questioning.
“Who do you work for?”
“No one. At least no super villains. I literally work, as in a nine to five job, for a dick named Greg, but that’s marketing work and he doesn’t even pay me enough for that.” I snapped my mouth shut when I realized I had begun rambling. Bucky’s lips quirked a little before he continued.
“Why were you in Steve’s dreams?”
“The 40s, at least the way they were in his dreams, were really fun. I liked going to eat at an ice cream parlor or go dancing. It was a completely different world than the one I experience every day and I wanted to see it more. It’s like a Disney movie in his head.” Bucky let out a quiet laugh before composing himself again.
“He does like Disney movies a lot but that’s a different conversation,” He explained while looked pointedly at the glass like he was looking at Steve. “Why did you go into his dream in the first place?”
“I had been in some famous people’s dreams before, so I knew distance didn’t matter, but I didn’t know if him being a super person would keep me from being there. Originally, it was just a personal test to see if I could get in there, but I liked them, and I kept going back.”
“And you realize if we find out you’re lying, there will be hell to pay?” He questioned with a cold look.
“Yes,” I replied immediately. “I promise I’m not lying. I don’t know how to prove that but I’m not.” Bucky was silent again as he seemed to ponder something.
“Can you bring someone with you when you dream walk, as you call it?” His question took me aback and it was a moment before I spoke again.
“I’ve never tried it. I don’t think I could bring someone with me, but I could possibly enter two people’s consciousnesses at once.” My mind began racing with the possibilities of being in two people’s minds. Would they enter a joint dream space? Or would it form a strain on me as I existed in two different minds? Bucky asked another question, interrupting my train of thought.
“Does the person have to be literally sleeping or will just unconscious work?”
“Uh, they can be just unconscious,” I answered while still focusing on his previous question.
“Why do you know they can be unconscious and not sleeping in the normal way?” Bucky asked. His voice had taken on a sharper tone and I realized my answer came off with nefarious connotations.
“It wasn’t a bad reason! My brother was in the hospital after he got hit by a car when we were kids. Thy had him sedated for a couple days to help him heal and I would go hang out in his head to keep him company.”
“Does your family know about this ability?”
“No. My brother and parents wrote his dreams off as a side effect of the concussion he had.”
Bucky nodded once, stood there for a moment longer, and then left the room. As the door shut behind him, my hope of going home after this ordeal quickly drained. I didn’t know what decision he’d made, but I was worried. After ten minutes of tense silence, the door opened again. Bucky stood there, and I could see Steve behind him with a strained expression.
“You’re going to go into my head, but someone else is coming with me.”
Tag list (Please message me if you would like to be added to it):
@paradisiacalsparks @cals-cigarette @searchingforbucky @mavelfanatic @some-person-somewhere @marvel-th @unfortunately-im-awake @jessicakimba @fandom-addict-aesthetics @simplysaying @spnsquirrel @bxrnsfeyson @magnolialikes @buckyinantarctica @fluffymadamina
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HypMic: Abusive Parents
Anon requested: Hiiii! Can I request BB/MTC/Matenro/FP where their S/O had a very abusive childhood and one day the parents saw her and beat her up on front of them but S/O is just so scared to even move? Sorry if you don't want to do this it's ok! I suddenly feel angsty haha
Oh my god
Okay I think he would get right in between, but he wouldn’t punch, he would glare at them and whip out his hypnosis mic
But then he would threaten them first and ask them to back off or they will regret it
And if they don’t want to back off, he would go for it with the microphone and make them regret it
He would definitely make sure they wouldn’t go near you again and he swears that as your protector
And he asks you if you want to call the cops on them and he does or doesn’t depending as you want
Then he comforts you and helps you out, so he would really talk to you about how he always wanted parents to love their kids because his were taken away from him at an early age
And he hated that some parents took children for granted and all that
And you feel better for him for standing up for you and being supportive
He would grab her and pull her away then get in front of the parents
Then he would get so mad and he might even physically go at them
He also brings out his mic and would flat out destroy them
Because he’s angry and a teenager with no parents, so of course he wouldn’t want his perfect idea of parents to disappear from him or from his brother
And then he would take care of you after by taking you somewhere to distract you until you’re ready to talk about it because he won’t do it until you’re ready to talk
He would pull you away and just quickly do a hypmic attack and then help you get away
He’s not exactly scared, though the idea of facing parents is such a concept to him
But then his hypmic rap would be about how he’s an orphan and all that and people like them don’t deserve someone as amazing as her and his rap would ruin them and make them fall to their knees
And then he would let her talk it out and he would patiently listen
And if she cries, he’ll just hold her until she stops
Then she takes her to his home and then they play video games until she’s laughing again
And the older Buster bros help patch her up and Jiro promises that saburo would take care of you pretty well
He grew up with an abusive father, so he’s somewhat triggered
But then he snaps out of it and then literally gets in between and beats up both parents if they’re both abusing her
Because he doesn’t want her to still have what he used to have and he can’t fucking take it
And not only does he beat them up, he fucking ruins them with his microphone and he swears if any of them step near her, they’re good as dead
Like he beat them within an inch of their life and dragged them to an alleyway where he’s just fuming in anger and he calls Jyuto to have these fuckers arrested
And Jyuto doesn’t even question it because of the pure rage
He doesn’t leave until the cops come and take them away
And then he just comforts her and takes care of her at home because he knows how vulnerable she can be at that moment
And his anger is still there and she’s kind of scared, but he cools down
And then he apologizes for acting that way, but she understands, given what happened to him and Nemu in the past
Then he tells her about his worst moment with his dad, but the happy memories with his mom
And they kind of just exchange stories and they have the sad game of “who was abused more”
But it’s comfortable and she’s thankful for him and all
He teaches you how to fight back and encourages you to stand your fucking ground if they ever touch you
Flat out arrested
He somehow manages to give them a worse sentence than what is usually given to abusers
And when he sees it in front of him, he pins them to the wall immediately, hits them with a rap and then handcuffs them
Jyuto is pissed as hell, but he figures that giving them the right punishment is good enough and he’s smug about it that he makes it extra tight and roughs them up quite a bit, along with threatening them with more punishment while arresting them
He lets them sit in a cell for a long time and then has them transferred to a really terrible prison
He comforts you and let’s you talk about it
He’s happy you have a sense of satisfaction, but is very much willing to like let them out if you asked him to
This reaches Samatoki and the yakuza boss is in a fucking rage and it takes a long time for him to cool off
He steps in between them and when they try to hit him, he just disabled them so easily and doesn’t bother hitting them
He immediately pins them to the wall and has a very big monologue about how abusers are the worst type of people
That monologue is said into a mic... so yeah they’re quite dead
And he’s so strong he manages to throw them away in the alleyway and call Jyuto to arrest them
He would then comfort you and have a long walk in the woods in silence or while you talk, depending on your preference
And he would patch you up and make you food so that you would feel better and all that
He would get in between and them and confuse them with his cuteness
Then he would reveal his true self and they’re scared as fuck
He raps and it’s one of his more intense attacks and it leaves them with nosebleeds and a big headache and it’s like their minds exploded
No really, people in the surrounding area gained because Ramuda’s rap was so intense
He was close to killing them, but he stopped because he wouldn’t do that in front of you, and it looked like you didn’t want him to anyway
And then he would take you out for ice cream or something so that you would feel better
You’re so blown away by Ramuda and all that
And Ramuda promises that if they touch you again they’ll be deeeeaaaaddd~
You have no doubt he would follow up on that
Would probably pull you away and get in between
He wouldn’t pull his hypmic or go physical
He would then talk the way he usually does, giving half truths that torment them
In other words, he threatens them so well that he doesn’t need to attack them and they’re fleeing for their lives
He tells her that only ten percent were lies and he will protect you with all of him
And then he would help you patch up your wounds and let you find some peace and quiet because he’s Gentaro that way
And he would then also wax poetic about how great you are and you deserve parents who are willing to take care of you and love you
He would tell you how amazing you are and the fact remains that you’re gorgeous and all
He would get in between and just push them hard so that they fall on their asses
Then he either whips out his mic or not, depending how mad he is
He’s basically snarling at them and threatening them to never touch you
Because he swears he would beat them if they touch you again and he threatens them well
And then when they’re away, he patches you up and then talks about his own childhood
And then he makes you laugh by being his regular dumbass self
You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to and he understands that, but he’s always ready to listen
So if you wanna laugh, go laugh, and if you don’t want to, then he’ll hold you
Please don’t do this in front of him you might die
No really, the glare that they see from his is fucking legendary as he tells them to stop and gets in between
They know who ill-DOC is and that’s your boyfriend
And they’re scared as fuck when he brings out his mic and doesn’t do anything beyond threatening them and telling them to get the hell out of Shinjuku because he will know if they do come anywhere near, and he’ll be there to intercept
If they cooperate, great, if they don’t, the next thing they know is that they have a switchblade presses to their veins and jakurai tells them medically just how slow they’ll die from choking on their own blood
And then they run away
Then after that, he softens and patches you up because you deserve to be cared for
Then he lets you talk about it and doesn’t force you to move until you’re ready to move or comfortable with doing anything
And then he promises he’ll protect you if you need it, but encourages you to learn a few self defense moves from him
He’s the type to grab you and pull you away from them
Then he would apologise and all that for whatever reason because he’s intimidated
And like he would actually step back because he’s anxious and all that and isn’t really sure on what to do because he’s nervous and all that
And then they insult him and that’s fine, but they get to you and have a select words he hates
Then he would get the courage to stand up and yell at them and then bring out his mic
And he would rap about your amazingness and beauty and how that if they dare come near you again, matenrou will be on their asses
And they’re running away after being beat
Actually no they’re passed out and Doppo calls the cops on them
He then apologizes for being a wimp but then promises to do better if it happens again
He then takes you out to make you feel better and would just do his best to make you happy
He grabs you and pulls you away, he takes some hits to his body and then like faces them with his mic
He would protect you with his life so he goes for it and beats them with his mic
And then he brings you away to get a couple of drinks, regardless of what time it is
And you would sit there, just talking for hours and hours about anything or about the incident if you wanted to
And Hifumi is a big puppy and he’s cuddling you and making sure you’re smiling and laughing again
And he just wants you to be happy, so he tells you funny stories and all that
But tells you very seriously that you do deserve to be loved and that you shouldn’t take that abuse and that it’s so wonderful that you’re still generous and kind, even after the way they treated you
218 notes · View notes
No Time Between Us (Nine)
Our time travel take on That Scene in CATWS. Buckle up.
Also, I literally can’t help the Sam and Clint snark, don’t judge me.
Despite Tony’s warning to stay away from bridges, Steve found himself standing on one the next morning anyway, leaning over the railing and staring out at nothing. His mind was racing, going over the plan for today, the odds of success, every step and every second that had to go perfectly right if they even stood a chance at taking down HYDRA.
The entire scenario was so far fetched that long shot wasn’t even an accurate description, but they had to try something and Steve’s plan had been better put together than Sam and Clint’s “Why don’t we just snatch Pierce and drop him out the window” suggestion.
Still, a long shot.
Tony had started writing code for JARVIS at day break, his fingers flying over the keyboard faster than Steve could even comprehend, chugging coffee and stuffing cereal in his mouth every few minutes without ever taking his eyes off the screen.
“You’re up for this?” Steve had asked for about the eighth time since they’d woken up. “I can contact Agent Hill or even Nat knows an awful lot about this sort of thing. You don’t have to do this.”
“I can contact Agent Hill.” Tony answered distractedly. “And Natasha might be techy enough to impress you, old man, but this requires more than starter level hacker skills. I can take care of it Steve. And I’ll have a suit on standby if things on your end go to shit.”
“You won’t need a suit.”
“Don’t think I won’t get involved, Steve.” Tony warned. “Because I already told you, I’m not losing you again, I’m not going to sit back and let you do something stupid again. The last time you took on a plane to fight Nazis, it took you seventy years to come home. Don’t do that today, alright? I’m all done saying goodbye to soldiers I love. I’m not doing it anymore.”
Soldiers I love.
Tony hadn’t looked up again after that, had kept typing as if he hadn’t just stunned Steve speechless, and the words ran round and round in Steve’s head as he stood at the bridge and waited for Sam and Clint to meet him.
Soldiers I love.
Tony loves me.
Echoing footsteps pulled Steve from his thoughts and he straightened up when he saw Clint and Sam waiting. “Hey. Everything ready to go?”
“Everything’s ready to go.” Sam confirmed. “Nat’s all set up and Tony will contact Agent Hill when it’s go time. Once those two are synced up, it'll be our turn to cause some trouble.”
Then he sent Clint a careful look and added, “Say Cap, you know your buddy’s gonna be there today, right? No way HYDRA won’t send him in to play security for those planes.”
“Yeah.” Steve nodded tersely. “I know.”
“I know he was your best friend.” Clint said next. “But he might not be that guy anymore. It’s been a long time and I can’t even imagine what HYDRA’s put him through and you said it yourself-- he looked right at you and didn’t know you. Today might not go the way you think it will.”
“Clint means that you might not be able to save him.” Sam finished. “This might be the kind of guy you just stop, Steve. And there’s only one way to stop somebody like that.”
“I know.” Steve said again, quieter this time. “But even when I had nothing I had Bucky. The day we buried my ma and I was all alone in the world, he told he I didn’t have to go it by myself, that he was going to be with me till the end of the line.”
He glanced up at the sky, where the heli-carriers would be patrolling in just a few hours time if they failed. “I’m not going to leave him alone today, gonna do everything possible to save him. And it that means this is the end of the line, then that’s just what it means.”
“Well we’re gonna do everything we can to make sure it’s not the end today, Cap.” Clint motioned to Steve’s clothes. “You gonna run into battle like that?”
“Nope.” Steve decided. “If you’re gonna fight a war, you’re gonna need a uniform right? Suit up guys. It’s time to go.”
“Yes sir.” Sam tossed him a salute and once Steve was out of hearing distance, he turned to Clint. “So which one of us will have to tell Tony that Steve isn’t coming home because he tried to save his friend and couldn't?”
“One, two, three-- not it.” Clint wasn’t joking though, his jaw set and eyes somber. “I can’t really see an outcome to this day that doesn’t completely suck.”
JARVIS went live the second Natasha stepped through the doors of the Triskelion disguised as Councilwoman Hawley, the voice changing chip on her throat doubling as a wireless transmitter.
“Wake up, J. It’s time to go to work.” Tony spun around in his chair when his computers lit up, pounding back the last of this coffee and cracking his knuckles. “Hey, SHIELD. Guess who’s digging around in your Nazi filled basement?”
Agent Maria Hill was an unflappable as Pepper when it came to being surprised by Tony, and she didn’t even skip a beat when he was suddenly in her ear with a dry, “Good morning Agent Hill. You and I are going to team up and save the day, alright?”
“How are you doing this?” She asked quietly, careful not to let her facial expression betray anything to the SHIELD employees around her. “Stark? Where are you?”
“Sitting in my pajamas looking at inappropriate things on the internet.” Tony said blandly. “And I can do about 99% of this on my own but I still need physical fingers on buttons, so are you ready to wreak some havoc?”
“Ready when you are.” Maria muttered. “Just this once you can tell me exactly what to do and I’ll actually listen, but don’t let it go to your head.”
“You’re a gift, Maria.” Tony smiled to himself and pushed a few keys, syncing up ear piece feeds. “Cap, we got Maria and I’m ready to go when you are.”
“Is Nat in place?”
“Yep, but she’s radio silent.” Tony confirmed. “Won’t hear anything on that end until it's safe so don’t count on that.”
“Check. Agent Hill, can I get a door opened?”
“Give me thirty seconds, sir.” She confirmed. “I’ll need to handle a few guards first and then you’ll be clear.”
“I’ll need access to a PA system.”
“Not a problem.”
“Tony, I know you said no planes or trains or high places but--”
“God dammit Steve.” Tony’s fingers paused at the keyboard. “If you think I’m going to let you rest in peace after you die doing something stupid, you are absolutely wrong. In fact, you’ll be resting in pieces when I get done with you. I don’t give a damn, I’ll desecrate the hell out of your grave. I don’t care if you’re a war hero.”
“Is this how you two flirt? Because it’s weird.” Clint spoke up over the comms and it was quickly followed by a snort of laughter from Sam. “Come on, are we dismantling Nazi organizations or making plans for next Friday night? Let’s go-o-o-o already!”
Steve shook his head and grinned. “I’ll come home in one piece, Tony. Agent Hill, you’ve got a door for me?”
“Door opening in three- two--” what sounded like a solid punch landing and then the door in front of Steve opened. “Welcome to the Triskelion, Captain Rogers.”
“Thank you kindly, ma’am.” Steve nodded and Sam snorted again. “PA system?”
Tony waited until he could hear Steve speaking over the PA system, waited until Natasha spoke into the tiny microphone sewn into the button on her blazer-- “Council members down.” and then activated JARVIS’s new protocol with a few taps at his keyboard.
“I’m live, Cap. It’s up to you and the bird brothers now. Three guys, three planes, three chips.”
“I feel like there’s a dirty movie with that tag line.” From Sam, and Clint added, “Sam you watch weird porn.” then Steve, “Focus, please!”
“Sam we should talk about your porn preferences.” Tony cracked a grin of his own when Maria made very odd noise. “Let me know when each chip is in place, Agent Hill and I can do the rest of it. Chips in and vacate the premises ASAP because things are going to go boom.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Agent Hill cut in. “What’s going to go boom?”
“Everything I can manage.” Tony said grimly. “We’re doing it right this time around.”
Clint got his chip in the first plane with no trouble at all thanks to Steve and Sam drawing enemy fire and disabling any and all weapons systems they came across. “Alpha locked!” he shouted over the comms, racing for the edge of the heli-carrier and somersaulting right over it. “Need a ride boys, I’d appreciate if someone with wings caught me! That’s you, Sam!”
“When do you need a ride?” Sam lay a jaw cracking punch across a HYDRA operative and kicked another in the gut.
“Right now please!” Clint yelled and Sam swore, bolting across the deck and throwing himself off, wings snapping open as he zoomed towards where Clint was free falling, arms flailing and legs kicking uselessly at the air.
“A little more notice would be nice!” He dropped Clint rather unceremoniously on the flight deck. “For fucks sake, be more useful and find us a helicopter. At the very least punch a bad guy.”
“Which ones are the bad guys?” Clint snapped his bow open, dropping his jacket to show the quiver of arrows at his back. “They’re all wearing the same uniform.”
“Are they shooting at you?” Sam deadpanned and Clint sent him a glare. “If they’re shooting at you, then they’re probably bad guys.”
“Right. Got it.” Clint flashed him a thumbs up and Sam took off again, heading up towards the second plane.
Agent Hill breathed a sigh of relief when Sam came on the comms no more than a moment later-- “Beta locked. Cap, Clint and I have got you covered, go on and get the third.”
“Good going, Sam. Steve, it’s up to you now.” Tony was typing furiously, transmitting line after line of new data to the heli-carriers servers and Agent Hill was doing the same, following his prompts as fast as she could. “Any sign of--”
“Incoming!” Clint yelled, and Sam shouted in alarm when Clint went flying through the air and crashing into the side of a chopper, the Winter Soldier stomping after him. “I’m up! I’m up and I’m okay but holy shit look out!”
“Got you, Clint.” Sam opened fire with both his guns, swooping low and planting both his feet into the Soldier’s chest in a solid kick. “Get out of here! Cap, come get your friend before I have to hurt him--ACK!” Sam was snatched out of the air by the Soldier and thrown to the ground but he scrambled up again and took to the sky again, only to have a hook catch on his wing and rip it right off.
“Sam! Deploy deploy deploy!” Clint sounded like he was panicking and at his desk, Tony froze, eyes wide and heart pounding. “Deploy your goddamn chute, I don’t have a helicopter yet! Tony get in one of your fancy suits and get the hell over--”
“I’m grounded but I’m good.” Sam came back online and Tony slumped back into his chair with his hand over his mouth. “Clint stop freaking out, I’m not Steve, I always have a parachute. Tony stay where you are and get these things disabled.”
“Where’s the Soldier?” Clint wrenched open the door of a chopper and buckled into the pilots seat. “And has anyone heard from my wife?”
“I’m fine, husband.” Natasha finally spoke up and they could all hear the grin in Clint’s voice when he answered, “Love of my life, it's about damn time.”
“A call went in for Rumlow when they figured out I was in the council room.” Natasha said authoritatively. “I could use some help. Sam?”
“On my way.” Sam said immediately. “Where’s the Soldier?”
“Right here.” From Steve, and they all went still, behind his desk Tony closed his eyes, digging his fingers into his thighs. “He’s standing between me and the system on the third heli-carrier.”
“People are gonna die, Buck.” Steve said quietly and they just barely heard it over the mics. “I can’t let that happen.”
Silence over the comms, and up on the bridge Steve shook his head pleadingly when Bucky just stared at him. “Please. Please don’t make me do this.”
Silence again and he nodded. “Alright. Tony, I’m going offline.”
“No you’re not!” Tony shouted, jumping to his feet and banging on the desk as if that would make a different. “No you’re not, Steve don’t you dare, don’t you dare---!”
He swore when the comm went dead, picked up a chair and threw it across the room. “JARVIS, activate the new suit.”
“Sir, the Mark 42 isn’t quite ready for--”
“Activate the fucking suit!”
“The war was awful.” Steve said into the dark and Tony stirred sleepily in his arms. “They talk about the Commandos as if we didn’t see the shit the others did. I’d think we saw worse. I saw men in pieces, Tony. Entire villages wiped out by test runs of HYDRA’s weapons. Mass graves with--” he swallowed and Tony’s hand rubbed soothing circles at his side. “--with all the bodies of Zemo’s failed attempts at the super serum. I had to stand with widows as they cried, had orphans ask me if I’d rescued their dads and the answer was always no.”
“You saved a lot of people, Steve.” Tony whispered.
“I didn’t save enough.” He shook his head. “But no matter what, Bucky was always there. He calmed me down when I wanted to kill someone, he sat with me when I wanted to cry over how hopeless it all was. And when everything else went to shit, he’d always have something to say, something to make me smile.”
There was quiet for a long time before Steve spoke again. “I wasn’t enough to save him last time, Tony but I’ll be enough this time. I’m Captain America. I’m not going to leave him behind. Not again.”
“You’ll save him because you’re Steve.” Tony snuggled closer, tangling their bare legs together. “Not because you’re Captain America. You’ll save him because you’re Steve and you’ve always been enough.”
A gunshot wound to the side hurt more than Steve could have possibly imagined, and a knife to the shoulder made him scream but he didn’t stop-- couldn’t stop-- fighting. Bucky was fast, almost too fast, and completely ruthless with every punch, matching Steve blow for blow, spinning and kicking and never losing that dead eyed focus that made Steve’s heart sink and his stomach twist.
That’s not Bucky.
But it was Bucky and Steve kept telling himself that every time he pulled a punch, every time he raised his shield defensively instead of going on the attack. He dislocated Bucky’s shoulder instead of breaking his arm and when he got his arms around Bucky’s throat, he squeezed only enough to choke him out, not enough to snap his neck.
This is Bucky, this is Bucky, this is Bucky.
Even when Bucky somehow got back to his feet and shot Steve in the thigh, he didn’t stop. When a bullet plowed through his stomach, Steve didn’t stop, only reached up as high as he could to snap the chip into place.
“Charlie locked.” Steve wheezed as he collapsed against the console, finally turning his comms back on. “Agent Hill. Charlie locked, we’re good to go.”
“Get off the plane.” She said immediately. “Right now, Captain. Stark’s plan to make things go boom is bigger than I realized it would be. Get off the plane and get as far away as possible.”
“Do it now.” He stared down at where Bucky stood, that dead eyed stare making his skin crawl. “Take these planes down right now. Don’t wait for me.”
“Don’t you dare, Steve!” Tony over the ear pierce and he sounded like he was flying, wind nearly muting the words. “What did I tell you about putting planes down? Get off that thing right now, I’ll be there in twenty seconds to catch you.”
The heli-carrier started to rip apart beneath him and Steve scrambled to hold on as it pitched towards the ground, beams splitting and crashing, glass popping and shattering and a huge piece of frame snapped free and collapsed onto Bucky, pinning him in place.
“I’ve got to get him, Tony.” Steve made a split second decision and let go of the platform so he could slip down another level, too wounded to break his own fall and biting his lip bloody so he wouldn’t scream over the pain. “I’ve got to save him this time.”
“Goddammit Steve, just wait--” There was a boom in the background and Steve knew it was a sonic boom, Tony pushing his suit as fast as he could to get there in time. “Just wait!”
“Go help the others.” Steve managed, more crawling than walking over to Bucky to try and lift the weight off. “Don’t worry about me. This plane’s going down and there are hundreds of innocent people in the Triskelion and on the streets that need to be rescued.”
“And not to sound like I want a ride on Iron Man’s back--” Sam cut in. “--but I’ll be jumping out the forty first window any second now and I’d appreciate a lift!”
“Steve--” Tony swore, and then swore again. “Sam, hang tight I just need a minute--”
“Go get Sam.” Steve started to pull the huge beams off Bucky, gritting his teeth and groaning as he lifted the nearly impossible weight. “Catch Sam, help everyone else get out of the building.”
“I’m not leaving you alone, Spangles--!”
“There’s people there who need your help more than I do!” Steve hated yelling at Tony, god he hated it. “Get over there now! Consider that an order!”
Too distracted by Tony, by the sight of the destruction outside, by the pain in his stomach, by the overwhelming hopelessness of it all and the sickening feeling of going down in a plane again, Steve didn’t see Bucky stirring until it was too late and a fist was coming towards him.
“You know me!” he shouted, stumbling back and now Bucky’s eyes were wide with pain and fear. “You know me, damn it!”
“No, I don’t!” Bucky shook his head, another wild punch glancing off Steve’s jaw. “I don’t know you!”
“You’ve known me your whole life.” Steve was spitting blood, barely able to block the blows anymore. “Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. We call you Bucky. I call you Bucky.”
“Shut up!” Bucky screamed and when Steve fell, he followed him down, raining punch after punch on him. “I don’t know what you’re saying! I don’t know what you’re saying!”
“I’m not going to fight you.” Sparks were flashing behind Steve’s eyes, even as everything else started to slide towards darkness and his fingers were trembling as he unhooked his helmet and pushed it away, let his shield fall.
“You’ll save him because you’re Steve, not because you’re Captain America.”
“You’re my friend, Buck. I’m not going to fight you.”
“You’re my mission.” Bucky froze in horror when he saw Steve’s face. “You’re-- you’re my mission.”
“Then finish it.” Steve’s head fell back onto the deck, his words slurring. “Finish it, Bucky. Cause I’m with you till the end of the line. Don’t matter how much time is between us. You’re my best friend and I’m never going to stop trying to save you.”
The bottom fell out of the heli-carrier then and Steve dropped towards river, the wind whistling in his ear and numbing his body and he thought maybe he heard Tony screaming in his comms, thought he heard Fury of all people shouting for someone to grab him but it all disappeared when he hit the water.
Then everything was cold and dark, quiet and still, the river lighting Steve’s wounds up with pain before numbing them almost immediately, his eyes closing against the burn of the water, his chest constricting with the need to breathe.
It was like the ice all over again, and it was comforting in some terrible way to know he’d die like this, appropriate somehow. And as the last few bubbles escaped from from Steve’s mouth, he thought maybe this time-- this time-- his sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain.
Bucky had recognized him for a minute, for a second and that was enough. Tony would know what to do from here and Bucky could come home. HYDRA would be dismantled, all those people would be saved.
It was enough.
He’d finally done enough.
There wasn’t a reason to pull the man with the shield out of the water, but somehow it wasn’t right to leave him there either, so he dragged the body onto shore and rolled him onto the side, pounding at his back until water spilled from between the cold lips and a few shaky breaths were taken.
He stood to his feet and walked away without a backwards glance once he knew the man was breathing, disappearing into the shadows like he’d been taught to do for so many years, instinctively seeking out a place to hide.
He was wet and he was bleeding, and he knew that the downed heli-carriers meant that his handlers were on the run or already captured, so returning to base for medical care or clean clothes wasn’t an option. He had been programmed to adapt though, always always to adapt so those were minor concerns.
There was panic in the streets, parents running with their kids in their arms, screams and tears, cars abandoned with keys in the ignition as people ran for their lives as the planes exploded above them and even the most obvious people were nearly invisible during times of hysteria, so he took the chance to make an escape for himself.
A purse was snatched from a sports car because he knew it would have cash and a little sedan with rust on the frame and torn seat covers made a perfect getaway car since it would be the least likely to be reported stolen.
A stop at an abandoned vendors cart for a jacket and a pair of gloves to disguise the glint of his arm, a hat pulled low over his eyes and suddenly he was just another person trying to get away, another face in a sea of traffic making it's way away from the chaos, another nameless citizen no one cared to look twice at.
And he had no intention of stopping again, no intention of pausing on his search for a safe house, but brilliant colors on a huge sign caught his eye and he let the engine of the stolen car idle as he stared at the advertisement for the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian, the promise of authentic pieces from the second world war, of comprehensive biographies for the soldiers.
He didn’t know why those words set his mind buzzing again, but he knew that shield and he knew that the blonde hair, blue eyed man on the picture was the same man he’d just pulled from the water. It was more compulsion than conscious choice to turn the car towards the Smithsonian and towards that exhibit, and the buzzing in his head got worse as he parked at the far end of the lot, worse as he walked up the stairs with his head down, worse as he passed a hologram of the man with the shield, the voice familiar as it welcomed visitors to the museum.
It was easy to blend into the crowds, into the shadowed corners of the rooms, and he kept his hat low over his eyes as he wandered through the halls to avoid making eye contact with anyone at all.
It didn’t mean anything to him, the names and the pictures and the droning voice overhead giving details about the unit known as the Howling Commandos. It didn’t mean anything other than the sudden onset of a blinding headache, but he pushed it away and tried to focus on what he was seeing.
There was a display set apart from the others, a picture of a young soldier with unruly hair and a cocky smile with his arm around the man with the shield. It changed then, to a newspaper heading about the soldier being listed as missing in action, then killed in action, the only Howling Commando to not come home from the war.
“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.” he said under his breath. “Fell from a train--”
“--he is the only Commando who didn’t come home. Known affectionately as Bucky, Sergeant Barnes was Captain America’s life long best friend and right hand man as they marched into battle against HYDRA.”
“Bucky!” A blonde man, reaching for him. “Bucky, No!”
“Sergeant James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes.” he said again, staring at a picture he didn’t recognize, a name that meant nothing at all. “Who the hell is Bucky?”
“....is that me?”
SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE FIC! (Remember to at least like/reblog, I’ll be cleaning out the tag list before Chapter Ten and dropping people who aren’t interacting with the fic! If I take the time to tag you, be a decent enough person to at least hit the like button!)
@bornwithgasolineheart @shipeveryonetogether @thenightkillers @ladyaulis @justjessica131 @flowers-and-honey @wayward-student-philosopher @daughter-of-infinity @random-weird-person @confusedbutstillhere @stitchinaride @80daysofunsaidthings @musicprompts @glitterandacne @ofthemoonsunandstars @immablogger @multifandom-fanatic @kaleenjackson @yukina64 @muemmelmonster @simplywitchery @cyborgscholar @cami-chats @tydagoon @vgurl18 @deepestballoonsweets @bethy-sue @psychobitchgonepsycho @plutoisstillsalty @shadowrayven @bi-llytheplatypus @teaanddeadpeople @reinazdogz @pshyaoi @its-peterparkour @startrekkingaroundasgard @mdgrdians @blackhearted @badwolf-77 @ships-galore
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Eden Locks (23/?)
Some things are evolving, and some things will never really change.
Nobody had understood Kai's plan, which was a good thing, and at the same time a very bad thing, because his brother now seemed convinced that he was in love with Fatty ! What an absurd idea ! Him ? And that ? Maybe their marks were identical (although he continued to claim that it was impossible to verify with certainty), maybe the universe had decided to joke on him, or he was punished for his bad actions, because Kai readily admitted that he was no saint, but for him to accept this situation and, above all, to fall in love with this big black bitch, he would have to become completely crazy for that.
"But you are already completely crazy." James chuckled, refusing to go home until he heard what he wanted to hear.
"Maybe, but not crazy like that !"
"Okay, okay. Well it's for the best, you have no chance with her anyway."
"No chance ?!" he cried. "I can have who I want, when I want ! If I decided to seduce her, she would be in my bed tonight !"
Of course, Kai would never do such a thing, he absolutely did not want to, imagining Queenie's sweat-stained naked body on him, who would slap him while insulting him when he could barely breathe, it only made him want to vomit.
"Kai." sighed James, unable to hide his smile. "I can see your erection."
"It's you who has an erection !"
Why did his stupid twin not want to go fuck himself and leave him alone ?! He certainly could not tell him that the real reason for his coming together with his soulmate was to get Michael back, by proving that he had moved on, because his brother would find that ridiculous, disrespectful, and he would say everything to his dear friend, Queenie. He must not be too angry when he said he was in love, otherwise the result would be the same.
"I'm trying to get to know her, to be nice and then we'll see."
"You will not see anything at all, because she is already flirting with a guy from her job and she would like things to get a little more serious, if you know what I mean."
"Let me guess, he's black."
"I do not see why it's matter. Anyway, even if you were the last man on Earth, Queenie would not want you, so even if I know it's wrong, if you really just want to be friends, it's cool, but more ? Forget it."
It was funny on the part of the guy who spent his time arguing with his girlfriend, then fuck like crazy. Kai did not see how his dysfunctional relationship was better than theirs. No, no, that the one he could have with Queenie, if he wanted to, which was not the case ! And if he really wanted to masturbate, it was because he liked being hit and strangled, but it was not because he had imagined it was that bitch, putting his head between her two huge breasts, as she squeezed her thighs around... Oh boy, he was crazy !
"Tell us !"
"Coco, if she does not want to talk about it, it's her right, do not force her."
"Okay... Tell us, please. Please please please."
Things were a little better with Mallory, even though Coco kept paying close attention to what she was doing and saying, resulting in her being frozen most of the time, totally dumb, for fear of disappointing her soulmate again. Mallory seemed to find that cute, even though she told him it was not the solution to her problem. While they were busy picking up the pieces of their relationship, Coco had kind of forgotten some things, like the Eden Locks website, calling Liz to find out if she had any news from Michael, and especially check if (Y / N)'s date went well.
"How is he ? He's handsome, kind ? He asked for your address ? Did you give him your address ? And you're not afraid that he'll come in the middle of the night, through a window, to kidnap you ?"
"Very nice, yes, no, no and no."
"You do not sound convinced by your answers, especially not the last three. Do you want to sleep with us tonight, just in case ?"
Coco did not see why (Y / N) and Mallory were laughing, what she had just said was not totally paranoid, it was normal to be careful with the strangers, and even if Jeff was not a dangerous psychopath, at least they would spend a good evening together.
"I do not think my life is in danger, thank you, it's like... we've known each other for a very long time..."
"It's wonderful as a sensation." said Mallory. "Are you going to see him again ?"
"I asked, so we could have a long discussion, since we did not really have the occassion last time, because of an unfortunate incident. I'm waiting for his answer."
Ah ! Maybe Coco lacked empathy, but she recognized a sarcasm and an ironic tone when she heard one, especially from (Y / N) who used it often, and it was clear that the date with Jeff had not been as perfect as her friend said, because she did not seem really happy about having to see him again. Yet she had proposed a second date. Strange. Once, at the University, (Y / N) had to ignore a guy who wanted to become her friend (and probably more), and with whom she had seemed to get along early, only because he had giggled when a disabled girl had fallen down the stairs. Well, it was not nice, even Coco had found it disgusting, even if the girl was not hurt and she had landed in a garbage bin. He had tried to apologize, saying that it had been a nervous laugh, but (Y/N) had not spoken to him again. (Y / N) never felt obligated to see people she did not like. So Jeff had to do something that bothered her a bit, but not enough to put him on her blacklist. Cocothen met Mallory's gaze, which said, "I know what you want to do, do not do it." All right, she would not ask any more questions, she would not send a message to Jeff... she would do something else.
Although she shared the opinion of the whole band, Liz Taylor was desperately trying to motivate them at every meeting, telling them that it allowed them to play together, think about future songs, and keep up the mood during this long period of forced holidays. Well, in the end, it was absolutely useless, a real waste of time and energy, especially for her, but Liz insisted they come, to stay soldered. Kai was a little apart since the incident in Japan, even if he remained the most invested, James was having fun but nothing more, and if he could stay with his beloved Bette, Dandy would not be there.
"Okay, does anyone have any song ideas ?" she asked, without much hope.
Long silence. For the sound, they were perfect, but for the lyrics, it was always Michael who took care of it. Before his arrival, when they were not yet known, they were making accoustic in a garage. He had written all the songs, absolutely all, always refusing the help of a lyricist, or the proposals of certain artists. Eden Locks was an authentic group, who did everything from beginning to end, without outside help, and voted unanimously on each decision. It was the same for the lyrics, though no one had ever rejected Michael's creations, full of power, depth, and ability to talk to so many people. Since his departure, no one had tried to take his place, and the main microphone was out.
"Really, nobody ?" she sighed.
"Me, I have proposals."
Without turning, Liz closed her eyes, trying to contain her tears, while placing a trembling hand on her face. The boys were also very moved, pleasantly surprised, James was the first to find the strength to get up, passing by her, to take Michael Langdon in his arms, quickly followed by Dandy. After taking a deep breath, the manager decided to face the singer. He had lost weight, he had cut his hair, but (Y / N) was right, he had never looked so good.
"You're late for the meeting." she said, in a falsely angry tone.
"Excuse me, Miss Taylor, it will not happen again."
She embraced him in turn, under the shouts of joy of the other members, except Kai, who was still sitting timidly in a corner. Michael stared at him for a long time, without saying anything, as the band held its breath. It was still possible that he was furious with the drummer and decided to send him away. As detestable as he may be, nobody wanted that.
"Kai..." he finally said, with a small grin. "Let's do rock and roll."
When the shock was passed, the drummer uttered the same animal shriek as before each beginning of the concert, jumping from his seat. They all rushed into the recording room, as if all this year had never happened, under the amused eyes of Liz.
Tag : @allyadarth @kahhlo @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @gold-dragon-slayer @moonagecordelia @roxytheimmortal @isoldedax @naughtygranger @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @heda-mikaelson @phoenix-whiskey-tears @desidia-1 @hecohansen31
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Motu 828 Mk3 Drivers
MOTU 828 MK3 WINDOWS 10 STABILITY I
100% compatible con las últimas versiones de windows y apple. I have an Ultralite mk3 and an 828 mk3 hybrid, and have long considered the ultralite mk4, however was forever put off by the loss of cuemix.Will i be able to control windows audio with the normal windows volume control for all channels? Ii gets a number of quality, 47. If this product manuals in USB3, etc. Motu ultralite mk3 hybrid firmware 64 bit drivers download - X 64-bit Download - x64-bit download - freeware, shareware and software downloads.
The 828mk3 provides time-tested drivers for Mac OS X and Windows (8, 7 and Vista) for cross-platform compatibility with virtually all audio software via WDM. MOTU's own software, such as Digital Performer, bypasses ASIO and talks to the interface directly, though a control panel providing the same options is used to set the. Supported usb midi interfaces include the midi timepiece av, midi express xt.MOTU's 828 answers that need and is designed to work with any Mac or PC audio software that supports ASIO 2 drivers and that runs on a computer with IEEE 1394 connectivity.
I was wondering how to get ubuntu to recognize my motu 828 mk ii firewire audio dsp ? unit. I recently installed ubuntu 11.10, which is proving to be a nice os - it's pretty fun to learn. Once i'd installed the drivers and configured the control panel, the 828's i/o options appeared as choices within logic audio, after which the program ran normally.Do you work with outboard eqs and compressors. Here's one more desktop style option called the motu ultralite mk4. Motu is an engineering-driven music technology company passionately driven to create products that help you produce amazing music.
Using motu's cuemix software, you can toggle +4db/-10db on each of the inputs as well as boost. Word clock in materials and it took me. Motu s award-winning hardware and software are used by top professionals every day on hit songs, mega tours, primetime shows and blockbuster films.There is a mark of the unicorn motu 828 mkii digital audio powers on but takes about 20/30 seconds to warm up. So it to work there with a very cheap price. Its brother, the mkii dynamic, also features vca-based feed-forward compression based around the that4301 analog engine, 4056 mux, and njm2901 comparators. Memperbaiki lampu led dan resistor 330ohm.
The motu 828 mkii is a significant improvement on the well-respected original 828 offering better metering, word clock in and out, smpte support, enhanced i/o capability and good hardware metering, all for 100 less than the older model.The motu 828 mk ii gets a bad rap for its converters, internal clock, and preamp. I won't go into detail on what all the microphones were for, but i had 4 going into an analog mixer, mixed down to 2 channels - as well as four other microphones that were unmixed. 100% compatible con las últimas versiones de windows y apple. I am about to buy a used 828 mk2 firewire to use for surround sound home cinema. DRIVER TEAM HARD 2019 FOR WINDOWS 7 64.
This allows sample rate to me. This warranty applies only to hardware products, motu software is licensed and warranted pursuant to separate written statements.This allows me to continue using my mk2, without investing in a new card. I'm wandering wether the most beneficial operating system.
Since i recently installed on usb 2 days ago!The 3dome studio features an 19.2 setup with a total capacity of about 8 people. Stralien - go and get a focusrite or rme or m-audio product depending on whether you want firewire or usb or pci/e. And s&s research motu/s&s warrant this equipment against defects in materials and workmanship for a period of ninety 90 days from the date of original retail purchase. This means that a full duplex digital~analog feedback loop is now possible for certain sound effects.
Hi, thanks to separate written statements. Works great on windows 8.1 / 10 x64 except discovery app which i would disable anyway because i can launch firefox/chrome manually for the web app and linux, connected on usb 3.0 port. 1st it had strange characters on the screen then i did a restart for it.
Hi, i just picked up a motu 828 mkii for a very cheap price. Memperbaiki lampu lcd interface motu 828mk2 dengan lampu led dan resistor 330ohm. Well in the first to me a very handy.You are currently viewing lq as a guest. How well does the motu 828 mk3 work for recording or video editing ? This step in the process can often be the most daunting. Hosts two external adat preamps for concerts.Since i have been considering using some analog gear for mixing, i had been wondering exactly how much a signal sent out of the 828's d-a converters and back in for another round of a-d might suffer. Driver download links and change log - motu hardware.
The motu ultralite mk-3 hybrid interface has been around a long time. Can often be the restart and software are. Let s discover why this venerable audio interface is still a major contender for great sounding audio for media creators and why motu still offers it. Try to install a guy from e-bay.Although i close the 828's i/o capability and 896hd.
About 20/30 seconds to toggle +4db/-10db on usb, 828mk2.The motu 828es is a single rack-unit 60 channel thunderbolt / usb 2.0 audio-interface, with 28 total inputs and 32 total outputs. The above setup using the motu ultralite will only render four stereo channels of backing tracks, but you can have up to five stereo outs with the playaudio12. Is it easy to configure this unit to work as the normal windows sounds with multi channel audio? Although i run xp under virtualbox in ubuntu, which does run live unsuprisingly although there arent drivers for my soundcard motu 828 mkii for linux so its not like i can use it properly for making music.
Perhaps you're the kind of person who's looking for a desktop solution like those in the categories above, but want one that pushes a more professional level of quality. By joining our community you will have the ability to post topics, receive our newsletter, use the advanced search, subscribe to threads and access many other special features. My plan is a samsung 960 evo m.
Motu 828 Mk3 Windows 10 Stability I
It's connected by firewire to the valid firewire port on my computer, and so i believe is being recognized by jack. Motu windows 10 stability i have been looking at the motu mk4 and 624, but the last thing i want is to have to mess with driver bugs. There is an ambitious project, ffado, to provide support for firewire audio on linux, but unfortunately the 828 mkii was giving me a hard time. Try to off motu midi in device manager too - nothing change from start just install motu 828 mk2 usb driver latest motu audio installer 4. Been wondering how to five stereo outs with drivers. After what all for 100 less than 10? Motu 828 mk2 way to find these knobs sav motu?I was more interested in the stability of the brand by the number of entries.
Other specs of the new studio machine include a fujitsu 'industrial' motherboard, intel core i7-6700t, 32gb ram and a samsung 960 evo m.2 ssd for running kxstudio linux.
Sunday, 23rd May 2021
Picture:: today’s sky at hospital.. trees from left and right sides are joining their branches.. Just a detail, but it looks nice.. ^^
What’s up, peeps? I am feeling lazy to write.. my brain is kinda full of KT stuffs.. I have 3 big days coming up hehehe..
This coming Saturday, for first communion retreat..
Then of course the first communion.. 6th June..
Then the end of year mass, kermesse etc, 12th June..
Our catechists outing on 3rd July is nothing biggy, as we’ll simply go to the Augustinian nuns’ place.
But I need to prepare for the retreat and the first communion.. heheh as always, every year, they freak me out.. People just don’t know how I am not made to lead this kind of things, how it’s difficult for me hahaha.. I want it to be a cool day, where I don’t have to be stressed out, but cool, cool, cool..
Hm, I don’t know if Fr Bapt has made the order or not for First communion small gifts. hmhmhm NOTE that, dear brain, I need to message him on Tuesday.. not tomorrow, let him rest a bit.
This Tuesday, I’ll have appointment with Fr Chris, not really an appointment, because we didn’t fix the time, he just told me to come in the morning.
I’ll go early, as at 10 AM I have work at the nuns, Sr Marie Rose will come to Paris, just so that I can teach her accounting program.. Tuesday morning and Wednesday the whole day.. hahahha..
So, I think I shall be quick for the appointment with Fr Chris, basically I have nothing much to say anymore, I don’t feel like explaining all misunderstanding either, it’s ok.. it’s bearable to be misunderstood. I don’t care anymore how he thinks of me. He wouldn’t listen anyway..
I would like to say a word for Emma case.
Emma case.. her mother doesn’t even care to reply to my message anymore. Recently she wrote an email to Fr Bapt complaining that she didn’t get any message for Accrobranche day out.. hehehe while I really sent her the SMS.. I replied her by SMS and email.. she just ignored me completely. Yeap.. since Fr Jer’s bad decision, KT gets all the bad consequence.. It hurts me deeply that Emma was treated this way and it’s annoying that even Emma’s parents put me in the same bag as Fr Jer and Charlotte, while until today, I still defend wholeheartedly Emma’s case. Of course the parents don’t know, because I don’t do bad talk about priests to parents, but geezzz priests don’t even care, it’s been 5 months since the incident.. it gets me deeply..
Our poor Church is full of ugliness. Church needs purification.. me included in this hein.. I can’t mention Church without me in it, right?
Fr Jer is bad, but Fr Chris questionable too.. it’s scary for me, because now I feel sick listening to him.. whenever he talks about defending the small ones, the poor, the disabled .. while I feel that he doesn’t care. Fr Bapt is making effort lately, calling the mother, because I mentioned it again in our appointment two weeks ago. He’s discussing this with the priests.
Anyway.. enough with tears for Emma. It looks horrid to me though to imagine how many Emma cases in their record that they can sleep peacefully without thinking of this for 5 months now? hahaha.. it feels like nothing anymore when it’s been their xxx-th cases.. losing sensibility.
Have mercy on us, Lord..
Peeps.. I was baptised in December 1993, got married in 2001. Which means I spend my Christian life more in France than in Indonesia hahaha.. It’ll be 20 years that I live in France this coming September. True that I had 10 years of prayer group life.. I was not even Catholic when I started the prayer group life.
My parish has been my parish for 20 years.. more than my Jakarta Karmel parish.. How now my SJBB parish is becoming stranger in a way to me.. I feel sick listening to talks about Arche, about disabled peoples, poor ones etc.. It feels like empty talks? How this people can speak about these poor people when they can be that bad to the little Emma? Does Emma have to be disabled to get their attention? It’s just like how I feel sick listening to Vanier speaking about vulnerability when he could use people’s vulnerability to his own benefit?
No, it’s not the exactly the same, the Emma case, and Vanier’s.. but it’s the same basic, your acts go against your teaching.
Scary fact, my truth and your truth might not be the same. Don’t we all have to think of last judgement?
But I am staying in my parish, because, curé and priests will go away one day.. hehehe.. while I have friends, my people.. here.
Good thing, that Church is everywhere hahhaa.. I have my Church at hospital too, I know most of regulars now kekek and even at St Albert.. I know quite a lot of people too over there.... I have subjects to talk with them, things to catch up to.. Territorially I might not be part of them heheh but there is real relationship built actually between them and me. Thank God that I can easily talk to new people and actually have good brain to remember names and stories kekekee..
ok, work today was ok.
Mass had not many people hehehe, it freaked me out to think of finding readers hahaha.. I think one day, I’ll have to read myself.. how it scares me much! While I can read fine when I visit patients.. but why I can’t go and do it at mass? hahahah My legs get weak..
Fr François and I discussed about patients before I went out to visits..
Henriette case is sad.. She’s put into artificial comma just to help her to breath.. After her stroke and heart failure, she can’t breath by herself.. and had tracheotomy since a while now.. but as time goes by, the airway is getting smaller, and the pipe has to go deeper .. and this hurts and is unsupportable to bear if she’s not put into artificial comma.
Question is.. is this living? I don’t know. Fr François thinks she doesn’t live her life, if she has to live in comma.. It’s not even a natural comma, but an artificial one.. She is put into comma to bear the pain of tracheotomy.
I don’t know what to say either..
Amavie.. in her usual state.. she’s waiting for another hospital to accept her for reeducation.. she has tracheotomy too, but not as deep as Henriette’s.. and is able to talk a bit..
Nicole.. had stroke too.. but she’s all fine.. she speaks well and has all her brain.. Only her right side doesn’t function as well as it used to be.
Elodie.. is young, 35 yo.. only. A hyper smart lawyer who got burn-out.. and tempted a few times to kill herself. I met her for the first time today.. as she’s usually followed by priests.. Her bedroom was a mess, she has a lot of her stuffs.. and among her stuffs, I saw St Therese of Lisieux and a cross like the one that young people use.. perhaps Frat kind? dunno.. It looked like the one that young people get from Frat or WYD?
We talked a bit after prayers and communion.. I’ll bring her something related to St Therese.. I have bookmarks, quote etc.. oh, a book, daily prayer with St Th of Lisieux? why not, will see..
She has an adopted younger brother, a disabled and apparently she took care of him a lot..
Cyril 45 yo.. my age.. blind, on wheelchair, probably dying, I don’t have enough information, I’ll get this later.. It was a beautiful encounter. I need to get to know more.. I saw he got operated on his head. Kept falling into sleep..
But I was amazed by how he has faith.. From the file.. I saw Fr Gus wrote he’s dying with a question mark.. and Val wrote “can’t communicate”.. today I added, my own observation that he understands well, he answered me, true that he fell into sleep when I read today’s readings to him.. but he woke up whenever I called his name. And we “talked” after prayers etc.. It had to be very slow.. well pronounced words.. Peeps, I told him my name and he remembered hehehe.. when I asked him again before leaving and said it clearly, Diana hehehe.. I spelled it to him though, I think it helped him to remember if he knows the spelling. And he actually said yes when I asked him if he wanted me to come back next week. True that his words is not that clear, but if we ask yes no questions, it works..
Well, all went well.. For Cyril I read all readings, with Sequence too hehehe.. While others had Sequence and Gospel only.
I like Sequence for Pentecost, read it slowly.. At our parish, we skip Sequence a lot hehehe.. my kids have never got a mass with Sequence hein.. but well, I shall introduce the prayer to them..
I ended all visit at noon and half.. tidied up and went home.
Did I wear Indonesian dress? no hehehe.. it’s freezing..
Picture: this one was from 2018.
I was in red, my usual red. The old ladies kept praising that I looked pretty hehehee they like oldie style of course.
Elisabeth sent me pictures from mass at our parish. Josh said all went well..
Where they put the Pentecost icon? hehehe near by priests seats .. at the same line as Ambon, but left side. hahaha I can imagine the scene how the icon covered up the altar for people who sat around St JB chapel hehhee..
I saw flowers that was brought in at offering.. It’s not what Sr Annie planned hehehe, they bought new bouquet..
Well, it all went well, thank God.
The aumonerie day out after mass, had 4 kids.. worrisome..
Correction for yesterday.. apparently there was only 1 kid from aumonerie. who went to accrobranche with 3 animators.. seriously worrisome..
My afternoon was with mom, sis and nap.. hehehe A thought for my Happy vibes, sent him a message and pufffff I went to dreamland hahaha.. tired..
Woke up to Fr Thierry’s reply hehehe .. it’s nothing much but peeps.. even one word from him can put smile on my face heheheh
Then got myself busy for KT of course.. I have to rehearse kids for procession and I am not the type who can talk in the microphone hahah every year this part of rehearsal makes me get older hahaha.. But well, I’ll jump into water again and again.. To those who think that I do this for me, because I like spot light, then, you get it all wrong hein.. you don’t know how this stresses me out. To think of what to say in French, in correct French, with kids giggling for my accent hahaha..
Read the super good homily from Fr Thierry hehehe.. I don’t know how he can writes that well? in French? hahahah Being French is not enough hein hehehe.. he express himself very well.. totally in different level hehhee.. I am simply in awe.
I agree with what he said in his homily.; he has good point on communitarianism too.. I didn’t pay much attention on this point before..
Hope he got to convince his people hehhe.. hmhhh.. I miss him hahaha.. Oxygene will have him tomorrow, but I think it’s the old one.
Peeps, I think if love means giving all of ourselves, then mediocrity shall never happen hehehe.. if love means giving all of ourselves, then we shall do nothing but our very best in everything.. right?
Sleep.. I don’t work tomorrow.. Val actually wants me to go for half day hehe but Fr François told me to not come hahaha, he’ll open church and close later, visits some patients and that’s it.
Btw, peeps.. the parish planning.. the one that Fr Steph used to send to me, hehehe now it’s empty hahaha.. Fr Bapt asked me to fill in our schedules.. Last year, I did too, but back then, Fr Steph has done his too.. hehehe but now, it’s all empty..
Last but not least, I forever like Pentecost.. ^^
It’s also the anniversary of baptism for my both babies..
Josh: Pentecost 2006
Becc: Pentecost 2011
See my babies? Hehehe.. both had to wait a year hahah to get baptism because mommy wants it on Pentecost day.
I want to have a brown hair baby hahha or blond hahha cannot happen hein hahaha
Spy Universe - Woozi
Anon requested Hacker! Woozi reacting to meeting the reader while working on his job. I was so inspired! Possibly willing to write more of this style of thing, so send request if you want!
EDIT: now we have a whole spy universe
Jihoon glares at the pixels on his screen, crackling voices coming to him through the ear piece that he has popped halfway out of his ear so that he can hear the soft music playing in the background.
He thought there was no way this mission could go wrong. But now...
Well, even with his expert hacking work on the near impenetrable computer system of the house the team has just infiltrated, and even with the flawless plan the constructed in advance, they might not be able to get this right and extract what they want in time.
“Mingyu,” he says threateningly, tugging his mic closer to his mouth so the most clumsy member of his heist crew can really hear his fury. “What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing?”
“Sorry!” Mingyu’s too-loud voice echoes awfully in the playback through Wonwoo’s mic as well, because Wonwoo is right beside him.
Wonwoo does what Jihoon wishes he could and hits Mingyu in the head, then clamps a hand over his mouth so he won’t talk so loudly. Only people who know him very well would be able to see past his blank expression and know he’s probably panicking on the inside at the stupid move his mission partner just made.
“Sorry Jihoon,” Wonwoo says at a much more reasonable volume. “What the hell do we do now?”
Jihoon sighs, reaches over to flick his music off, and pushes his ear piece fully into his own ear. This is going to take some focus.
“First tell Mingyu that if I ever see him open a fridge on another mission, he’s dead.” Jihoon hisses. He doesn’t really mean it, of course, but he can see Mingyu’s eyes go satisfyingly wide through his view on the camera. “With houses this fancy, we never know what might be hooked up to the networks. Rich people get ‘smart fridges’.”
“But even you couldn’t have known the fridge would link into the alarm!” Mingyu protests, at least keeping his voice quiet this time.
“I would never have decided to take a snack in the middle of a mission!” Jihoon spits, watching code scroll across his screen and trying to predict how much time he has to fix this.
“We’re stealing from them anyway!” Mingyu whines. “And we have to wait for so long in here I thought-”
Jihoon can’t be bothered with the explanation. He flicks off the private channel he opened between his ear piece and the ones Mingyu and Wonwoo have in, and turns off Mingyu’s mic completely. It’s a little rude, sure. But he has no time to be polite. He quickly glances around the other monitors, making sure all the other members are in place. They are. And thanks to the private channel he opened for his conversation with Mingyu and Wonwoo, none of them know that things have gone wrong yet. So luckily, none of them are panicking.
Jihoon’s just not sure how to solve this. Luckily, he always makes sure the team leaves a second person with him, usually Vernon, just in case something like this happens. He makes him wait in the other room of course, just watching the monitors, so that Jihoon can have the privacy and space to think. But right now, he needs to call him in.
But before he can even do so, Vernon suddenly opens the door behind him, clearly having seen some of the commotion.
“Woozi, what’s happening with Wonu and Mi-” Vernon’s voice come along as he pokes his head in the door. “Oh.”
Vernon is staring at the little orange blinking light that means the alarm system on the other end is currently rebooting.
“Yes.” Jihoon repeats. “’Oh’ is correct.”
“I thought you disabled-”
“I didn’t count on the fridge.” Jihoon interrupts. Even as he speaks his hands are dancing over the keys. “And I didn’t count on Mingyu’s fucking impossible appetite. He opened the door to get a snack and the system somehow noted the unexpected presence in the house, so it started reactivating the whole alarm system. We have about eight minutes before it gets up and running: luckily their software is fancy but not fast.”
“Shit,” Vernon says. He walks over to Jihoon’s side. “Need me to take the chair while you work out the hard stuff?”
“Yeah,” Jihoon pushes off on his wheeled seat to the faster computer in the corner and Vernon takes his place. Jihoon mutters under his breath. “Fucking Mingyu.”
Vernon looks almost pleased. If anyone messes up missions, it’s usually one of the two of them. Or Seokmin. And he always feels relieved not to be in the path of Jihoon’s wrath.
“Don’t smile.” Jihoon snaps. “Just-”
“Yo, Woozi, what’s going on?” Seungcheol’s voice echoes through Jihoon’s ear piece and he swears out loud in surprise. “You haven’t given your usual five minute update.”
He forgot he had left all the others listening to nothing while he sorted out the issues on his end. He quickly reaches over to open up the channel between all the ear pieces.
“Minor hiccup.” he says sharply. “Stick to the plan for now. Mingyu. Wonwoo. Don’t say a word.”
“Jihoon,” Seungcheol switches to his real name in worry. Jihoon’s only half listening now, fingers flying over his keyboard. “What the hell happened?”
“Nothing.” Jihoon hisses. “Listen, I have to move. Vernon’s taking the seat for a while.”
There’s a long pause. Then Seungcheol says “okay,” because he trusts Jihoon enough to move past without an explanation. He’s also kind of busy himself right now, lifting Jeonghan over his head, and waiting to hoist Joshua up next.
“Where are you going?” Vernon asks in surprise.
“Have to get to the basement of the security company and hook right into their mainframe again.” Jihoon explains.
It should be possible in the given time frame, considering the place in just down the road. It’s not the first time he’s done this either. He’s familiar with shimmying his way through the little window at ground level down the alleyway, and plugging in the forgotten corner of their storage section.
Vernon nods, and Jihoon takes one more glance at the kid as he settles properly in front of the monitors before he snatches up his laptop and bolts.
He’s definitely not looking where he’s going. Not well enough anyway. As he bursts out of their building and down the street, he doesn’t see you right there at the turn into the alleyway, and he takes the corner at full speed.
He smashes straight into you.
As you both crash to the ground, Jihoon on top of you, several things cross his mind at once. First, his laptop just went skittering across the alley floor and whammed into the dumpster several feet away. Second, he’s rapidly running out of time. Maybe a three minutes forty seconds before he needs to have his laptop plugged in. Third, he’s currently on top of another person. Forth: oh my god, that person is really cute and really familiar: its the eye catching person he sees lost in thought while walking past the coffee shop window when he’s inside sometimes. Fifth: shit, this is getting majorly in the way of the mission.
You, on the other hand, are simply looking up wondering how on earth the cute boy you have a half-crush on - the one you see sitting inside the coffee shop with his laptop - has ended up pinning you to the ground, so close you can see the depths of color in his hair dye.
“Sorry,” you splutter helplessly.
Jihoon quickly pushes back off you, offers you his hand to help you up, and you accept, flustered but how you instantly miss the warmth of his body. His cheeks are pink, you notice.
“Sorry,” you say again. “Didn’t mean to, um, get in your way. You look like you were in a hurry.”
Jihoon’s eyes narrow. That’s a suspicious comment to make, if he’s ever heard one.
“Where were you, um, going?” you ask. A delay tactic?
Maybe he’s too stressed. Because, acting on an impulse, suddenly Jihoon yanks you closer by the hands that are still clasped, and, making you gasp in sheer shock, spins you, presses you close to his body, and puts a knife to your throat.
“Holy shit!” you say, freezing, your crush forgotten in favor of fear. “What- what the-”
“You work for them, don’t you?” Jihoon says. His voice, which you’ve heard before when he talks to his friends, and usually sounds a little tired and sarcastic but somehow charming and affectionate, is now suddenly cold. “How long have you been watching me?”
“I-I don’t- know what you’re talking about.” you sputter. It feels like a cliche movie line, if anything. It feels unreal.
Your head is spinning trying to believe this is happening. You hear Jihoon scoff in your ear. And then he flips you suddenly, surprisingly strong for his size, and spins you so he’s pinned you to the wall instead, so he can look into your eyes.
“As if.” he says. “I’ve noticed you before. There’s no way they didn’t plant you, considering the way you- I mean- it’s a ridiculous coincidence that in the middle of it all going wrong, someone as pretty as you would be-”
He pauses, watches the fear in your eyes.
“I really don’t-” you say again.
“What’s your name?” he demands.
You tell him. He regards you. It feels like a test of honestly. Like he’s trying to read lies on your face.
“And I suppose you’ll tell me you’ve never heard of the Pledis plot?” he asks.
You shake your head, genuinely stumped, trying to wrack your brains for what he caught be talking about.
“I’m sorry,” you say, and tears are beginning to fill your eyes, the situation sinking in. “I don’t-”
“Fuck.” Jihoon says. “You’re telling the fucking truth.”
Moving in the same precise way he has this whole time, he suddenly releases you, returns the knife to some invisible place so fast you miss the movement, and puts a hand to his ear, where you now see an earpiece tucked away. He flicks something loose: a microphone now extending to his mouth.
“S.Coups, everyone, do you copy?” he says. His voice sound a little wavering now. Less sharp. “Sorry. It won’t work out. No time left. You’ll have to initiate pull out plan. Vernon, give them a time estimate before things become urgent. Jun, get the window open. Everyone else, meet him on the second floor like planned. I’ll see you all later. No questions now.”
And then he tugs the ear piece out, tucks it into the pocket of the hoodie he’s wearing, and turns slowly and sheepishly back to you. His whole face is pink now, his ears nearly red, and he bites his lip, looking at your stunned, confused silence.
“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, looking up at you with adorable concern. “Please, just, let me explain?”
Because you don’t know what else to do, and partly because he’s still got that knife somewhere on him and it’s making you nervous, you follow him back to his house.
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So, remember that story I was going to tell you? About the unfortunate death of my mic? Or, no, I promised to tell you how I fixed that particular disaster. Well, I better start at the beginning anyway:
In a bout of frustration I had ripped the microphone off my headset. I hadn't been able to stand it any longer; the way they talked as if they expected me to talk back to them. I can't, I couldn't, and I'll never be able to talk back to them.
The creaking of wiring being manhandled didn't stop them from talking, nor from expecting, but it had satisfied my anger at that moment.
It had been during the 'Recovery'-mission, when Sara had insisted on the splendid idea of splitting up. Contact with the base had been disabled due to Janine's ill-timed restorations, and Runner 8 would never be able to hear even as much as my breathing over the sound of her own labored pants and coughs.
During solo-missions I had been able to stand it, knowing that if I got in trouble Sam would notify me of the danger, or send people out to fetch me. And on the team-missions I knew I could count on my partner. Even if said obnoxious partner thought it a swell idea to turn the radio off. I shared Sam's view on that whim of hers.
This was different however. If I as much as tripped now, I'd be dead. Or 'soon-to-be-undead'.
Sara had been gone before I could make my opinion clear to her, leaving me to fend for myself. Whatever the outcome.
It didn't help that she didn't trust me. For all I knew she'd fled the scene, just to get rid of me, and the mystery that shrouded me like a persistent fog. Or worse, she'd kill me herself, with a perfectly aimed shot at my skull while I was a safe distance away. All because she just wouldn't listen.
Sam threw a fit when we arrived back at Abel.
He wasn't the only one pissed off with me for destroying equipment; everybody with even the littlest bit of respect for communication devices was giving me death-glares.
The glares weren’t the worst though. That had been the partially silent shouting match with Sam; He did the shouting, I did the silence. That is, we exchanged words, he vocally and I in hurried, angry scrawls on whatever piece of paper I could find in his clutter.
- What is the use?
"What is the use? What is the use?! You know what the use is!"
- You can't actually hear me, you know that?
"And now I can't even hear you breathe!"
-You have to push a freaking button for it to work. And even then- Have you forgotten I'm MUTE?!
"The tracker only gives us so much information. What if you get bitten?"
-You think Zombie!me would brief you with a quick press on the button, a cough, and a rattle?
"At least we'd be able to hear a cough and a rattle or a moan! Would a mute zombie even be able to moan?"
-I'd assume not, since- well- I am not able to either. Will you admit that it is absolutely useless for me to have a mic now?
"No, it's not useless, 5-”
By then I had dug my hand onto a mission-report covered with a thick gob of marmite. No need to tell you that I recoiled with absolute disgust. The ball of paper I had left behind had contained rough finger smudges and an angrily scrawled 'UGH!' at the center.
I think it was punishment when they put me out there again with Runner 8. Unless we were really the wonderful team she thought we were –The Dream Team–, which I doubted.
At least I didn't have to worry about her turning off the radio, since it was not Sam who guided us but Janine. Sara was, as was proven later, quite fond of Janine, and the conversation was mostly on their part. Go figure, since I could hardly pipe up.
I wasn't sure if Janine had heard about my little tantrum, but even she had to notice that the headset on the charger was slightly different from the rest (they all were different already, but none lacked a mic or had the snapped wires to proof it had been there). She didn't comment on it though, which somehow made the guilt even worse.
I was glad when Sam guided my next mission again. No resentment sounded over the wire, but it still had to be there, unless the arguing with Janine was to be blamed on those kinds of feelings. At least they seemed genuinely convinced that the mission would bring no trouble and I, even without microphone, would be fine on my own.
So maybe I couldn't talk, but Sam might have had a point after all. I never noticed the problem of not being able to report back because I always had a partner or wasn't too far from the base. This time however I dearly wanted to report back that I really was alive and running like hell. And yet this time I couldn't, even if I had had a mic.
It turned into the most terrifying night since a long time.
I hadn't actually thrown the mic away. I didn't have the heart. The fact was that even though it was small and practically useless, there was still a small chance that it might work if reattached to a proper device. And it was valuable simply by that small chance.
Not that they knew. At the spur of the moment I had stuffed it deeply into one of my pockets. Later, it just didn't occur to me to hand it over for spare parts.
It turned out that that had been a good error.
The midnight run had left me with a grazing wound on my leg, courtesy of a bullet with the regards of New Canton. The time that it needed to heal was spent well with tinkering on my headset. And naps in the Comms-shack.
This reminds me about something Sam had asked during that night. Whether we were friends or not. Stupid question. Of course he was my friend. He had been much more during that night. He had been my lifeline. And still is.
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