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iseutz · 2 years

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Impossibe Colors - Chapter 5

Black Stains

“One last thing, before we adjourn the session.”

Medarda’s voice, soft as it was, shattered the tenuous wave of relief that was surging in Silco’s heart. The day had been hard on him, the bureaucratic machine moving at a glacier’s pace against Zaun’s pressing needs. On top of that, his evening migraine had been triggered earlier than usual and forced him to wear sunglasses even indoors. He was starting to suspect that his habitual dose of Shimmer needed revision. He slipped off the spectacles and rubbed at his temples, trying to relieve the throbbing pain; gone were the days when Shimmer eye drops were enough to keep the deterioration at bay. Too soon, the Doctor had to devise that infernal eye-stabber. It had been easy enough to use when the solution was fairly diluted and the sting of the needle was the worst of it, but inevitably he’d grown to need it raw, and so…

“Can’t Sevika do it?” “I’d rather it be you.” “I don’t… what if I jinx it and you lose your eye?” “There’s no such risk. Don’t be scared: you can see that I’m not.” “You should be! I will jinx it!” “You know… I really hope so. I happen to like Jinx very much.”

He bit his inner cheek and focused his attention on Medarda’s voice:

“...but I think now that the turmoil is over we should pay some thought to Councilor Silco’s official portrait.”

A general murmur of approval. Silco felt his eyebrows knitting together.

“There are infinitely more urgent matters than that,” he muttered. Mel Medarda turned towards him, her voice syrupy.

“There are, Councilor, and we all appreciate your modesty. Yet we can’t forget that one of the duties of this Council is to preserve historical landmarks, so to speak, and your installment is one of these.”

“You are the first Zaunite Councilor in history,” Talis chimed in.

“Yes. I am aware of that. Still-”

“So you understand the importance of leaving a testimony for the future generations," Medarda pressed on.

“A good photograph will serve perfectly,” he replied.

The assembly chuckled, delighted. A pang of migraine warned Silco that he’d been holding his frown for too long; he forced his face to relax.

“This will only take a few minutes," Medarda reprised. “Any suggestions for the artist?”

Several pairs of eyes lowered to inspect fingernails and paper files. Medarda let the moment stretch. Why don’t you purr while you’re at it, Silco thought.

“Well," she said finally. “I was thinking of SHIFT.”

Silco blinked. “...Shift?”

“The artist," she offered.

“It’s written in caps.” Silco turned towards the voice: Viktor was sitting on Oono’s chair at the end of the room, directly behind Silco’s seat - the customary spot for Councilors attendants and staff.

Standing behind Viktor, hands clasped on the chair’s backrest, Oono added sheepishly, “It was in your dossier, sir.”

“You’ve met them, Councilor," Medarda explained. “At the soirée? You had a brief exchange regarding their fresco, I believe.”

“He talked with SHIFT?” For a second, Councilor Kiramman actually turned and looked Silco in the eye, a most unique event. Neither of them enjoyed it.

“SHIFT is notoriously jealous of their privacy," Talis told him from his spot at his right. “Nobody knows their face, or where they live.”

“I’ve heard that their manager has to appraise their work from photographs because he’s not allowed to know the address of SHIFT’s studio," Hoskel chimed in.

An egomaniac, he thought. Fantastic. “Since it’s my portrait we’re talking about, I say a Zaunite artist would be more appropriate," he said.

“SHIFT is Zaunite," replied Medarda.

Touchée. Inside Silco’s mouth, his molars drew blood from a pinch of cheek’s flesh.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Chirped Hoskel. “But of course, many of the best are: only through tribulations can an artist truly thrive.” He took a sip of wine, smiling in his cup.

Silco slid off his glasses. His red eye found Hoskel’s gaze and stared on, while he made a show of polishing the lenses.

“Yes. This is why we starved and worked to death in the mines. For art.”

“I wasn’t insinuating…”

“Councilors, please," Medarda’s voice nipped the exchange in the bud. “The day has been long and we’re all tired. If no one has further suggestions I will be happy to contact SHIFT’s agent and inquire about their schedule. Anyone?”

Silence. Medarda nodded and adjourned the meeting. Silco slid back his chair and stood, gathering his papers. Oono appeared at his side -again, his bad eye failed to register them approaching; he passed them a couple of folders.

“Fetch me a coach. I-," a wave of nausea hit him; he pushed it back with a sharp inhale and empty swallow.

“Sir? Are you all-right?” Oono’s voice sounded distant. He waved a hand at them, the other fumbling blindly on the table for his spectacles.

“Just a nasty headache. I don’t feel like walking, is all.”

“I’ll stay with him.” A thick accent. A bony hand, holding out his glasses. Oono hurried away.

Silco accepted the glasses, pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow. He straightened his back, grateful it didn’t pop.

“Can you walk?” Viktor asked softly.

“Of course I can walk," Silco grunted. “I’m not- fuck.” He caught himself a second too late. Viktor merely smirked.

They slowly made their way out of the Council Hall. The brighter light in the hallway had Silco wince despite his best efforts to keep a straight face. Viktor noticed.

“It’s the eye, am I right?”

“Yes.”

Their steps echoed in the corridor.

“Have you considered visiting a clinic in Piltover? Medical progress is really-”

“I already have a personal physician.”

“And their response?”

“Progressive. Irreversible.”

Viktor sighed. “ I know that song.”

Silco glanced at him sideways; at first, he had barely noticed Viktor’s sickly complexion: a runt of the litter, he’d thought, like many others he’d seen growing up in Zaun. Like him. But soon he had realized that the gaunt face, the waxy pallor, the limp were telling a different story than that of an unfortunate past: their story was ongoing, and it was one of malady. He sighed, averting his gaze from Viktor’s stoic profile. He was so young. So bright: Piltover owed him his technological supremacy over the nations of Runeterra… well, to him and Talis to be perfectly honest. What was the saying? The tallest blade of grass is the first to meet the scythe and all that, but Silco had been around long enough to know that the scythe didn’t give two fucks about the grass altogether, save for a sharp preference for the Zaunite variety.

A steamcoach was ready by the curbside when they exited the building, Oono waving at Silco from the backseat.

“Thank you for your aid," he shook Viktor’s hand, the young man’s shake strong despite its frail frame.

“From one Zaunite to the other," Viktor smiled.

Silco climbed into the car, the smell of well-greased leather from the seat mercifully pleasant to his nose. He let his head rest back against the seatback and closed his eye. The coach rocked gently forward.

“Oono.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Why are you in my car?”

“I thought I could accompany you to the hotel, sir.”

At least three sardonic replies popped to his mind. Instead, he asked: “Do I look that bad?”

A pause. Silco cracked his eye open, immediately rewarded by a painful throb between his eyebrows.

“You look… really tired, sir.” Hunched over, hands between their knees, Oono looked strangely big in the cabin of the coach, but the huge, worried eyes they fixed on Silco belonged to a child.

“How old are you, Oono?”

“Soon I will be twenty-six, sir.”

“Oh.” They didn’t look much older than Jinx. Maybe they could have been friends… but Jinx never had friends her age. Why? Had it been his fault? Why, yes, of course: he’d raised her amongst criminals; he’d tied her to his crusade; he’d taken for granted that she shared his ideals, his thirst for revenge. He pushed her to death, a girl so young, so bright. His teeth found a pinch of flesh to grind.

He sent Oono back to their lodging in the coach.

It took him some time to get the right angle for the injection; his hands, shaky and sweaty, refused to cooperate. Eventually he resolved to down a little scotch to unwind; it didn’t help his stomach, but it took the edge off his nerves enough to make him able to handle the syringe.

His shirt was damp with sweat, cooling in patches on his back and under his arms. He removed it and dumped it in the laundry basket; the cleaning staff would collect it the following morning, then some poor, underpaid fellow would have to deal with his stinky clothes. He wondered why he felt so guilty about it: he had people do his laundry before: it was taken care of by the same staff who dealt with cleaning the Last Drop. Dry-cleaning his vests couldn’t have possibly been worse than scrubbing puke and sweat from the sofa pillows, could it?

I paid them well; enough that they could afford decent living from my patronage alone and on top of that I sent more clients their way. I cared. Here, all I can do is tip; it can be enough for Piltovans, but not for me.

He was in the bathroom, washing himself with a wet towel by the sink, when the phone rang. He took the call while rummaging in the nightstand drawer for an undershirt.

“Sir.”

“Sevika.”

“Sir, someone set fire to the Drop last night.”

“What?”

“We caught it on time, sir; there’s been no structural damage, no casualties-”

“I’m coming down.”

“This is not a good idea; the Lanes aren’t a safe place right no-”

“The Lanes are mine, Sevika. I won’t sit around while someone sets fire to my things. I’ll be at the Drop in a half.”

“At least take a car, don’t make an entrance," Sevika snorted.

“In that case, expect me in twenty.”

It had been a sloppy job, Silco assessed as he stepped out of the car in front of The Last Drop. Whoever did it, it had probably been their first attempt at an incendiary bottle, and Silco was thankful for that. The projectile, aimed to one of the slit windows close to the ceiling of the club, had smashed the glass and shattered into pieces at the same time, spraying combustible half in, half out of the building: the outside wall was charred black in a couple squared feet area, but it was just burnt paint.

Silco sniffed the air, hands clasped behind his back: the smell of smoke was nothing compared to the Undercity’s usual bouquet of chemicals and waste; a spring shower was approaching, a further aid in washing the stench away.

The door to the club opened and Sevika appeared in the entryway, pipe dangling from her lips. She wasted no time in greeting him, instead interposing her body between Silco’s and the streetway, pushing inside by her bulk alone.

“You’re early.”

“I’m quick.” He took some steps inside, eyes adjusting to the light: only the bar’s lamps were lit, their colorful neons a stark contrast against the blackened patches on the floor at the other end of the vast room. Sevika was already behind the counter, tequila bottle in hand.

“‘Told you, it’s no big deal. Most of the kerosene ended on the dancefloor; one table got damaged, end of story. We’ll change the carpet and repaint the wall, re-open in a week or so. Drink?”

“Scotch.” Sevika nodded and grabbed a bottle. “Any damage upstairs?”

“Just the smell of smoke.”

“The culprit?”

“Probably already running away before the bottle hit the spot.”

A door opened and closed upstairs. Silco frowned, glass halfway to his mouth.

“Shouldn’t this place be empty?”

“It is, sir. Apart from him.” Sevika turned towards the figure stepping down the stairs. Silco followed her gaze.

“Good evening, sir," Doctor Singed reached the bar counter and took a seat next to Silco. “Could I have a glass of water with a slice of lemon, Sevika dear?” Sevika nodded and disappeared below the counter, rummaging about.

“What’s going on here?” Silco’s voice was dangerously low. In years of collaboration, he could count the times he had seen the Doctor outside of his lab on the fingers of one hand and never once before had he set foot in Silco’s office -not to mention The Last Drop.

“Sevika is merely being over-protective," dispassionate under every other aspect, the Doctor insisted in treating Sevika like a devoted niece; it spoke volumes that she allowed it. “I will be back to my quarters tonight.”

“Out of question," she snapped. “The lab will be relocated. We cannot risk-”

“Risk what, Sevika," this time Silco raised his voice. Sevika grimaced, slamming the glass of lemonade in front of the Doctor.

“The attack here was a decoy. The real target was the lab.” Sevika averted her gaze when Singed pulled down the cowl that hid the lower half of his face. Silco didn’t: he waited, watching the Doctor insert a straw into the portion of his mouth where the lips weren’t fused together and mottled with chemical scars. He drank slowly, sucking with every care, some droplets rolling down the straw anyway; he kept eyes locked on Silco, the two men sharing the familiarity with broken flesh. Finally the Doctor smacked his lips and patted them dry with a handkerchief; the cowl went back to his spot.

“A trio of, eh… unfortunate souls paid me a visit yesterday night. I guess they were after Shimmer, or its formula; or maybe," he chuckled. “They had in mind to kidnap me and have me work for them, poor kids… Anyway, as you very well know, my lab is, eh… thoroughly secured.”

Silco nodded: there were three air-tight hatch doors to unlock before entering the lab, all snared. The first two were unpredictable, the Doctor having a penchant for testing new chemical compounds in his security system; had someone made it past them, they would be irrevocably halted by the very fastly self-replicating fungus in charge of the antechamber. It hardened like coral in a matter of seconds and fill the compartment in under two minutes; it wasn’t toxic per se, but it searched for water.

“Which door?”

“The second one.”

“Impressive.”

“Indeed. They used explosives on the first one… poor kids, I admire the effort; unfortunately I had been working on a, eh… gaseous corrosive compound lately and the heat generated by the explosion seemed to enhance its effects.”

“So, no survivors.”

“Hell, nothing left to identify," Sevika cut in.

“Sevika is right: the lab must be relocated," Silco downed his scotch. “We can make room for you by the docks.”

“It was also my idea," Sevika agreed. “The area is already well guarded and there’s all the room you need.”

“I am already pretty safe, Sevika dear. If anything, this accident proves it: they didn’t even make it past the second door-”

“But now people know where the lab is. More will follow.” Sevika wasn’t having it.

“And how do you plan to dismantle and transport a whole laboratory without drawing attention?”

Sevika sneered. “We used to fly blimps full of Shimmer; that won’t be an issue.”

The Doctor was getting fidgety, his fingers tormenting the straw in his drink. “Some of the equipment is quite fragile; I, eh… have ongoing experiments that need not be disrupted-”

“We can work around that," Silco stopped him. “The lab will be moved, it’s not negotiable. You can survey your experiments, under escort. Do we have spare men, Sevika?”

“For this sort of job? That’s the only thing we’re never short of, nowadays”.

“You will use my apartments upstairs for the time being," continued Silco. “Has it been aired recently, Sevika?”

Sevika blinked.

“Aired? You took the key away when you moved to Piltover: nobody’s set foot inside ever since.”

“Goodness. I better go take a look, then.”

“One for the road, sir?” Sevika raised the bottle of scotch.

Silco nodded.

It surprised him that his hand wasn’t shaking when he turned the key to his apartment’s door lock. That’s where he spent the entirety of his… convalescence, right before moving to Piltover and taking his seat in the Council. His last two weeks in Zaun.

Two weeks. The time he’d been allowed to grieve.

He realized, stepping in, that his suite at the Ambassadors was sensibly bigger than the place he called home in the last decades: it wasn’t much more than a bedroom with a private bathroom; a dresser and wardrobe at one end, a little writing table on the other, bed against the wall opposite to the door. It looked rather crammed, really. The fact that the place was absolutely trashed didn’t help.

He didn’t have clear memories of the last days he spent holed up there. He didn’t want to: several empty bottles testified so. Now, what had been the theater of his misery looked like the stage of a play: the toppled furniture; the clothes ripped from the closet and strewn around, some still with their hanger; the curtains half torn from their rod. Everything impersonal, a set of props.

There were blackened splatters on the mattress, matching stains on the pillows. That hit something in his chest, filled his head with teeth-chattering buzz: the only person he’d asked for during the fortnight had been old Nellie from the Crown of Thorns. She’d come in with her big leather bag and got out, a couple of hours later, with eyes as red as his.

“Mr. Silco.” The doctor was closing the door behind him. Silco had forgotten about him for a moment; he moved to the window, opening the shutters to let some air in. The old man (but was he old, after all? Or simply maimed, much as he was?) didn’t seem to care in the slightest for the state of the room.

“You know I have live specimens down at the lab," his cowl billowed in time with the hurried whispers. “I can’t risk moving them, I can’t have people see them; not yet at least.”

Silco bent to pick up a chair and sat upon it; he unbuttoned his coat, put his glass of scotch down beside him, produced his cigarette case. A routine, countless times rehearsed. Both men were familiar with its subtext: already Silco could see Singed’s shoulders slumping, ever so slightly. He lit one cigarette.

“You know I admire your work very much," he began after the required, dramatic first puff of smoke. “So much that I have never inquired into its ethics, or lack thereof.”

The doctor didn’t answer. Silco took another drag.

“I am trying to build the reputation of our newborn nation of Zaun -quite literally from below ground. I would relish your collaboration in this endeavor.” This time, he let the silence stretch indefinitely. Eventually, the Doctor muttered a “Yes. Of course.”

Silco smiled and leaned back in the chair.

“Make a list of the equipment you need: whatever cannot be retrieved from the old lab will be bought anew. Special transportation for live specimens can be arranged, if they hold particular interest. I have in mind to involve you in our Public Health Ministry-”

“You know I’m not that kind of doctor…”

“...a commitment, I’m aware, that may require state-of-the-art instrumentation. I’m already forming connections towards acquiring them.” He grinned into his drink when no replies came from Singed. He made a show of standing up, dusting imaginary specks of dust from his pants and snuffing the cigarette butt under his shoe tip (the carpet was beyond hopes of salvation anyway). The doctor didn’t move: he knew well enough that the final line of that farce was yet to be spoken. Silco waited until the last button of his coat was closed.

“You have three months," he stated. “Whatever will be left in the old lab after then will be on you to get rid of. I’m sure you need no advice on how to dispose of lab rats.”

His hand was on the doorknob when the Doctor’s voice reached him.

“How’s your health been?”

Quite the dramatic timing. “You just said you’re not that kind of doctor.”

“I never saw you wearing dark spectacles, let alone inside, at night. And, eh… your hand is shaking. Not much,” he hastened to add. Silco forced his gaze away from it, scowling. “How have you been feeling lately?”

“I’ve been having migraines, that’s all. I’m quite used to them”

“Yet now you need to resort to dark lenses.”

“I… the colors bother me. Sometimes.”

“Can I examine your eye?” Singed stepped closer; Silco closed his hand on the doorknob. The Doctor stopped in his tracks. “Mr. Silco, I may not be a physician, but I consider myself, eh… in charge of your condition, regardless. Please, allow me to take a look at your eye.”

Silco grunted, but he went back to the chair and sat down. He removed his spectacles and the Doctor’s head appeared in his field of view, one hand rustling in the pocket of his jacket somewhere out of sight. A second later a little flashlight was aimed at Silco’s eye. The Doctor turned it on.

Pain blasted in his socket; it was one with the blinding flash of light, filling his head, his nose and teeth. If his eye could scream, it would have. His nostrils flared, his hands clawed at his thighs; bile rushed up his throat. For a second, he was sure he would have puked on his own lap.

The light went out. The voice of the Doctor came from a distance, from the other side of the hand cupped over his eye, pleading the pain away through darkness.

“The deterioration has worsened, I’m afraid.”

“That much I’ve noticed myself,” he groaned. He picked the glass of scotch up from the floor where he’d set it and swished a sip in his mouth to wash away the taste of bile, then spat it on the floor. The Doctor awaited.

“How much can you see from it?”

“Not a great deal.”

“You said the colors bother you?”

“I can… taste them, sort of. Not all the time, but ever more often as time passes. Along with the headaches it makes me nauseous.”

“Are you eating? Have you lost weight?”

Sico scowled. “I don’t have time to hop on scales and watch after my figure. I do manage to eat: you know food lost most of its appeal to me years ago.”

Singed squatted down to his eye level.

“Mr. Silco, we knew from the start that the nerve damage you sustained was, eh… irreparable. I would like to conduct a proper examination, but without my instrumentation…”

“Nice try," Silco sneered. He downed the remaining scotch. “You can have what you need be brought here, I’m going to come back around next week.”

“There’s no room here for the equipment I need-”

“It will do for the time being. Three months from now you’ll be having a brand new lab: you will toy with me then.” He stood up, combed his hair back -his hands were shaky. “I’m sure I will still be alive by then.”

His hand was on the doorknob when the answer came.

“Probably, sir.”

Oh.

He didn’t turn. He turned the doorknob instead.

“Understood.”

Peter Singed heard Silco walk downstairs and order Sevika to get someone to tidy up the room for him. He turned his gaze around, not really taking anything in, distracted by the noise.

Three months there? He would never be able to concentrate with people coming and going downstairs at all hours, and didn’t Sevika mention a dance floor? How could Silco consider this an acceptable solution for him?

He’d known the man for the past… ten years? Twenty? He was simply standing, backwaves up to his knees, arms wrapped around his body; Singed had run into him during an early morning walk along the seaside. He was delirious with fever and skittish; when Singed tried to approach him he’d slashed at him with a knife that wasn’t there, but adrenaline couldn’t fuel him forever and the offer of medications and no questions asked had him follow Singed back to his lab before collapsing and lying unconscious for two days.

Well, with a little help from Singed himself: it was just easier to clean and treat that nasty eye wound if the patient didn’t move. The cut was infected, body temperature dangerously elevated and the young man was generally malnourished: better give the body some time to recover and absorb nutrients and medications via IV drip.

His course of action paid: Saving Silco’s eye had been Singed’s first triumph in administering Shimmer as a medication -on a human being. His research had progressed immensely thanks to the studies on Silco’s tissue samples. He wondered, scraping something from the floor with the tip of his shoe, had he ever mentioned it to the man himself? The role he played in the development of the drug he built his fortune upon? Singed often wished he had the chance to treat that eye with the knowledge he possessed now: he was almost sure he could manage to save the nerves, not to mention spare him from the scarring, but retaining vision (in any capacity) and slowing down cellular degeneration had been a striking success anyway.

Yet, not a complete success: the damage never stopped spreading. Bent over Silco’s face he’d heard the low hiss in his lungs, catched the sweet, almondy note in his breath. What a time to hinder his studies, right when stakes were rising; he’d grown complacent, he remarked himself pacing round the devastated bedroom: he got carried away, dilly-dallying with artistic experiments instead of focusing on refining Shimmer to the panacea he knew it had the potential to become. In the comfort provided by Silco’s patronage, he had forgotten that the man alone stood between him and clandestinity… or exposure. Now lives were at stake because of his slacking: already as he brooded about, many of his specimens were in need of food, therapy… education.

Enough. He took a deep breath; anxiety was never fruitful. Setbacks were inconvenient, but he had overcome worse than this. He merely needed to update his priorities and set a new schedule. He was good at that. He exited the room, closed the door carefully, almost tenderly.

Sevika was patting raindrops off her poncho when he joined her downstairs; probably she’d escorted Silco to his car, because he was nowhere to be seen.

“Sevika, dear. Would it be possible to get some bigger tables for my room? I need some equipment brought here and it will never fit that little desk upstairs. Besides, one of its legs is broken.”

Read it on Ao3 My undying love and the promise of my soul to @chickenparm and @ink-and-dagger for beta reading and helping me out with a title. Calling Singed Peter is another triumph coming from @chickenparm's dangerous mind: I could never come up with a better first name for him, so I asked for her blessing to name him the same. If you haven't already, go read her All That's Left for more Peter Singed and much more.

#fan fiction #fanfic #silco #arcane #impossible colors #ao3

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wheeler-beretta-harwood · 2 years

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Meant To Be (Cash Wheeler x Reader)

Chapter Nine

You checked your small suitcase again, for the fifth time now. Shorts, some tops, Cash's birthday present, a light jacket just in case, the black lace lingerie set......just in case. It seemed everything was ready for your trip to Cash's place, but you still felt like something was missing. The ringing of your doorbell interrupted your thoughts and you went to open the door. Although you knew exactly who'd be standing outside, you were taken by surprise at how handsome he looked. He wore a simple black tank top along with some grey shorts and Aviator sunglasses. Cash had never looked so gorgeous before. At least to you.

"Hey darlin! You ready?" He asked as he shot you one of his million dollar smiles.

"Almost. Come in, I'll be ready in five." You answered while holding the door open for him.

As he passed you, he took off his glasses and gently pressed his lips on yours. Damn, if only he'd come home to you like this every day for the rest of your life.

Ever since your little talk with Dax after their match at Blood and Guts, you realized your behaviour towards Cash had changed these past days. You were more needy for his attention, and more possessive of him in general. You wanted to make sure he knew you were all his, and that he should be all yours.

"Do you want a drink while you wait?" You added, admiring the man's butt. What an asset.

"Water would be nice, it's ridiculously hot today." As he turned around, he noticed you were not really paying attention to his words, and he raised an eyebrow at you. "Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm good. Fantastic even. Water's coming, hold on a second." As you walked over to the fridge, you brushed your hand along his upper arm, giving it a light squeeze. He meekly grinned at the soft touch.

"You look extra handsome today, baby."

He looked down at himself, obviously flattered with your statement before he chuckled.

"You're really easy to impress, Y/N."

"That might be true with you. I even figured out the secret formula to your hotness: The less you wear, the hotter you get."

When you handed him the glass of water, Cash's face had turned a bright red. He didn't know what exactly happened to you, you had never been so flirtatious - and blunt - with him before. But truth be told, he was enjoying this new side of you. After a few moments, he had gained his composure again, and retorted, a lopsided grin on his face. "Hmmm, I'm really curious if that statement is true for you too..." Then, he chugged down his water as if he'd never get a drink again.

"Well, maybe you'll get to find out soon." You said while zipping your suitcase and moving to stand next to him. He didn't reply, but just looked at you, so you took the glass from his hand, put it in the sink and walked back to him. "Come on, let's go, Pawla's waiting!" You pecked his lips and saw him out. As you did, he took your suitcase from your hand and pulled it for you. His other hand moved down to grab yours, fingers smoothly interlacing with yours. It felt like your hands were meant to be put together, he thought to himself.

In the car, he smiled over to you before turning on some music. "You don't mind, do ya, darlin?" As soon as the first few notes made their way to your ears, you rolled your eyes and groaned loudly: Orville Peck. If there was any type of music you couldn't stand, it was Country. He LOVED it. It was maybe the only downside the man had. Cash laughed at your reaction and put his hand on your thigh.

"Come on, it's not that bad. You'll love it sooner or later. And hey, on the way home, you get to choose the music and I won't roll my eyes when you play that...what are they called? Seven Avengers?"

"They're called Avenged Sevenfold. And I'll remind you of it once I see your eyes roll ever so slightly. Damn, this is gonna be a long drive..."

But you were wrong about it. The second song started, and Cash was feeling it. He sang along, louder than the radio, and dramatically gestured in the car. It surely was a sight to see. When you guys had to stop at a red light, the people in the car next to you even noticed his breathtaking performance and laughed about it. Your first reaction was to feel second hand embarrassment, but when you looked at Cash's face and saw the gleeful expression, you realized it didn't matter what random people in cars thought about you. The only thing that mattered was him.

As you didn't know the words to any of the songs, you started dancing along in the limited space of the passenger's seat, and clapped and woo'ed at the end of each song, asking for an encore. Which Cash, being the showman he is, would have never denied.

The two-hour drive from Jacksonville to Orlando just flew by and before you knew it, he parked the car in his driveway. You looked out the window, trying not to be too impressed with the house, but admittedly, it looked beautiful from the outside. You would have expected your country boy to have a traditional, wooden house with a veranda. This however, was very modern and cool looking...and spacious.

"Wow. That's a pretty nice place you call your own."

"Thanks, darlin. Come on in, I'll show you around." He once again laced his fingers with yours while running his thumb over the back of your hand. You had never been with anyone that was so tender with you, it actually took your breath away for a moment. It got only worse because next thing you knew, he pressed his lips against your temple before unlocking the door.

"Welcome to the Wheeler mansion! Mi casa es su casa!"

Spreading his arms wide, he stood in his foyer grinning at you before he started to show you the kitchen, gym, and then the living room. You stopped to look at a few photos that sat on his shelf when he came to stand next to you.

"Your family?"

"Yup, that's my mom right there with my brother James. Here, we have some of my friends. This is John Skyler, you might know him, he's currently working at Impact. He'll be here tomorrow as well."

"John Skyler? THE John Skyler?! God, I love him, he's so criminally underrated!"

Cash smiled. "He'll be happy to hear that. Now, wanna see the pool?"

Your eyes grew big and you were fidgety like a little child. Cash loved the way you got enthusiastic over seemingly small things. It was another charming side of you that he had come to admire.

Once you were outside, your eyes had to adjust to the bright midday sun shining down, the reflection of it on the water further adding to the almost painful sting in your pupils. As soon as you were able to see again, you gasped. He wasn't lying when he told you it was a real pool, not some lame jacuzzi sized water pit. Excitement overtook your body and you couldn't stop yourself from running a lap around it. When you came back to stand next to a laughing Cash, you almost yelled at him. "It's sooooo big!"

"Told ya!"

"I can't wait to get in there! I honestly didn't bring a bikini though, it wasn't just a joke."

"Good for you. You pomised I could help pick it out. We can go shopping now, I'll show you the rest of the house and your room later. Let me just quickly unload our stuff. And on our way back, we'll pick up Pawla from the dog day care."

"Sounds like a plan!"

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

"So tell me, Mr. Wheeler, what exactly do you have planned for your hair? I see it's getting longer and longer in the back." You asked while sipping on your banana milkshake as you were walking through the crowded mall, holding hands yet again. This seemed to be your thing now, and you didn't mind the sweet gesture one bit.

"Well, I've been thinking about getting a mullet for some time now, and I think I'm finally ready for it."

"A mullet?! Really?"

"What? Not a fan of the idea? Guess you'll have to live with it, I'm doing it either way." He shrugged at you.

"That's cold. I let you talk me into getting the red bikini when clearly the black one would have looked better. And I don't get to have a say in this?"

"Nope." He slyly grinned at you. "And how would I know which one looked better? You wouldn't let me in the changing room! So that's 100% on you."

You smiled at his statement, knowing full well it bothered him.

Just a few minutes earlier, you were picking out your bikini when a beautiful, black one caught your attention. Cash immediately shook his head and handed you a suspiciously tiny looking, strawberry red one.

"No. Just no, Cash."

"Come one, just try it on. I think you'll look breathtaking."

You shook your head at him and moved to another rack and then another, only to be followed by Cash and the red bikini. Every time your turned around, he was there, holding it straight into your face. After ten minutes that felt more like 2 hours, you finally gave in.

"Fine, I'll try it."

"Great, I'll come along!" He followed close behind you, but you pulled the heavy fabric functioning as door for the changing room right into his face.

"In your dreams Wheeler!"

He patiently waited for you to get out, let him peak inside, or at least say something about how it looked, and when you did neither of those things, he mock knocked on the curtain. "So? What do you think? I have exquisite taste, right?!"

"I don't know about that, baby. I mean, the top looks great, but the bottom half of it..." You said while poking your head out, making sure to hold the fabric of the curtain close to your body so he couldn't see you.

"I am sure you look stunningly beautiful." He brushed his lips against yours before kissing you. You didn't even notice, but he slowly stood on the tip of his toes, peaking into the small room, right at the mirror behind you.

"I can already tell your ass looks fucking fantastic."

When you realized he had tricked you, you pushed his face away from you and closed the curtain completely again, changing back into your clothes. Once you were done, you left the changing room, mockingly huffed at the man, but went to pay for the red bikini anyway. He once again followed you, satisfied he got his way with you.

"So how long do you plan to grow this mullet? Like Brian Pillman Jr.?!"

He chuckled, amused with the shock in your voice. "No, sweetheart, just down my neck. I want it to cover that scar I have. I hate it when strangers ask me about or even touch it." He chuckled once more when you let out a sigh of relief.

"Cash, is that really you?" The female voice made him stop dead in his tracks and almost drop the small bag that held your new swimsuit.

Damnit, he should have paid attention to the people around him and not just you. If he had seen her approaching, he would have turned the other way.

"H-Hi Lindsay." His hand held yours even tighter now, his knuckles burning white.

"Hey, it's been quite some time since we last saw each other. How have you been?" Her voice was saccharine, almost to a degree where it was annoying you. But damn, was she pretty. Her wavy blonde hair fell flawlessly past her shoulders, and her legs must've been twice as long as yours, it looked like it to you. She was superthin, but somehow managed to have rather big boobs. If you were a man, she'd be one of those women that turned your head.

"I've been doing great. Thanks." You noticed he didn't ask her back, and he was more than uncomfortable with this whole encounter.

An awkward silence fell between the two, and Lindsay shifted her focus to you, but didn't say a word. She just smiled at you, and you weren't sure if it was genuine. You decided to break the ice nonetheless.

"Hi, I'm Y/N!" You tried to reach your hand out for her to shake it, but Cash wouldn't let go of it. No matter how hard you pulled to offer her your hand, it was glued to Cash's. To the other people around, this must've looked comical, you just felt awkward. Before any of you two women could do anything else, Cash spoke again through gritted teeth, his mouth running a hundred miles an hour.

"We're kind of on a tight schedule, so we gotta go. It was nice seeing you, Lindsay. Bye."

He let her say a quick goodbye before he dragged you along with him, staring straight ahead.

"Are you okay, babe?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Y/N."

"Who was that?" He frowned at your question - or maybe because he didn't know how to answer it, you couldn't tell.

"Lindsay. An ex."

That was it.

You got nothing else out of him, only that it didn't end well when they separated. What a shocker, you thought, you could tell from the death grip his hand had on yours.

He just stared blankly ahead and remained silent, even on the drive to the dog day care. It wasn't until Pawla waddled over to him that his face lit up and he started talking again.

You felt in your heart that there was something else there...she wasn't just a regular ex. He wouldn't tell you, so maybe you could ask someone else about her. Tomorrow, at the party.

Chapter Ten

#aew imagine #all elite wrestling imagine #cash wheeler x reader #cash wheeler #cash wheeler imagine #dash wilder

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impossible-rat-babies · 3 years

Text

pollux like you can’t see my eyebags these sunglasses are gucci

#Shejsjs I kept thinking w that piccrew like dang you look terrible pollux #but then I added the sunglasses and it’s like oh now you look fantastic #I genuinely think he owns a pair of gucci sunglasses #they’ve all been gifts though like rebecca got him a pair when he got out of rehab #as like a im so glad ur healthy again + I know you’re eyes are still sensitive as hell here have a nice pair of sunglasses #in fhr they were a gift from ortega and he’s been given a pair Twice #once for Christmas back in the day and he Genuinely thought about selling them fr #he was baffled by someone spending that much money on him + you could’ve taken him to like. the grocery store #and let him have the run of the place and it arguably would’ve been better #he does keep them though #and he ends up getting them back from ortega #they were amongst the others in his collection when those were returned to him #and he still likes them. they’re teal #like the frameless acrylic ones that are all like. paying for the brand name of them #he wears them with his goodwill/shitty thrift store clothes and things it’s Classy #he will look absolutely terrible dragging himself to the corner store for smokes at 5am after a late night bender #bc He was Not Vibing #and he’s got his stupid expensive limited edition gucci sunglasses on #oc talk: pollux

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ekaterinatepes · 3 years

Text

Nothing but the Best

XIII.

(Part 3/3)

He hurried to his seat only grabbing a glass of champagne before he disappeared behind the curtains to the VIP area. Satoru was certain Suguru would be here to see you and he wanted to avoid confrontations.

Once in the privacy of his balcony he sat down and sighed, he was nervous. It wasn’t like you were going to see him and yet his heart wouldn’t stop beating erratically thinking about the fact he would be so close to you and watch you do what you love the most.

Finally after almost half an hour everyone was seated and the curtains were lifted. The story unfolded before his eyes. He has seen this piece before, you performed as Clara back in Tokyo but in this occasion you were the alluring Sugar Plum, even the part fitted your sweet personality. When you finally appeared on the stage he moved closer to the edge of the balcony, his heart melted once more and he was reminded of how absolutely gorgeous you were. He was… enamored with you once more. Your grace, precision and artistry was remarkable. You had gotten so much better since the last time he watched you perform. Satoru was speechless as you executed a sequence of pirouettes en chaîne. Followed by a pas de chat. The whole scene was spectacular.

By the end of the performance he was standing up, clapping with a huge smile across his lips. You had been perfect. He was proud of how far you have come. Regardless of how you felt about Satoru he had come to terms with the fact he would always love you and would always support your dreams. You deserved the world, even if it wasn’t by his side.

Gojo wanted to go to you and talk to you but it would not be a good idea. More than anything he was scared thinking about how you would look at him. What if the next time both met you didn’t feel anything for him anymore. Satoru wouldn’t be able to stand it if he saw it in your beautiful e/c eyes.

Sighing he grabbed the single red rose he brought in with him and warped to your changing room before the dancers came back. There was a sign with the name Ekaterina Petrova on the first door down the hall backstage. He entered it and immediately was welcomed by your smell. Costumes hanging in an open closet. Your bag, regular clothes, ballet shoes and a vanity filled with make up and hair styling tools. Swallowing hard he walked to the vanity and settled the red rose for you but before he left he couldn’t help but steal the red scarf hanging on the back rest of the rolling chair in front of the mirror.

He warped back to the balcony where he sat down and buried his face on your scarf. Your scent could not compare to the perfume he used back home on his bed. You smell was a mix of your perfume of roses but there was also hints of honey, and something else… something sweet that was part of your person. Making your aroma impossible to emulate.

Stroking the fabric he thought longingly about you. He needed to see you, just once more… once more, he promised himself and then he would leave you be. Just… one more time.

He warped to the rooftop of the building next to yours and waited for you to get home. You got out of a cab alone and then walked in. You were alone. How strange, wasn’t Suguru with you this evening? Or was he waiting at home for you? But he lights in your apartment were all out. Removing his sunglasses he couldn’t perceive the raven haired sorcerer’s energy. He wasn’t home, maybe he was away in a mission.

A part of his mind screamed it was the PERFECT opportunity to see you! There was no Suguru around to interfere this time. Satoru groaned, he promised he would leave you alone and wouldn’t try to bother you but… it was so hard, having you so close and yet so far. Would you be mad at him if he showed up at your door? Would you kick him out in the cold?

Biting his lower lip he decided just to watch you for now. Staying away was not without effort but he tried his best.

Gojo watched you go through regular routine, you went for a shower and after that you walked out with your wet hair and a set of flannel pajamas into the kitchen where you poured a glass of red wine for yourself. Once more you disappeared down the corridor and he was sad to think maybe you went to bed and wouldn’t be able to see you again but you showed up on the roof top of your building. Leaning on the edge you sighed « Happy Birthday Satoru » he heard you whisper to the wind and only then Gojo realized today was his birthday… you still remembered. You still thought about him!

Fuck it!

He warped behind you, watching you from a few feet away, he didn’t want to startle you when you were so close to the edge of a very tall building so he waited for you to turn around. When you did your eyes opened wide and your glass slipped your fingers. He caught it with his infinity preventing it from spilling and breaking in a million pieces.

Panic washed over your features and before you could run Satoru stepped in front of you not touching you but still trying to prevent you from leaving « please, don’t run away from me… y/n, I’m not here to hurt you… I just… wanted to see you. Nothing else, I promise » his tender tone and kind eyes told you he was honest « wh.. why are you here? » you asked trying to control yourself. But he could almost heart your heart racing while you looked at him “ I came to see your performance tonight…” he confessed his little secret “you were absolutely spectacular Y/N! I don’t think I have ever seen you dance like that… it was… beautiful” he added with a little smile “th… thank you” you answered with a blush.

What the fuck! Oh my god! What is he doing here!? Your thoughts raced through you mind a thousand miles per second.

As much as you convinced yourself you were over your ex husband you couldn’t help the reaction of your body. There was still a big part of you that instinctually reacted to his presence. You were actually excited to see him.

“How… have you been?” He asked you “I’m… alright, I’ve been….fine” you admitted “how about you?” Could this be the first steps you took to heal? Maybe trying to be civil instead of running away from him “I… uh… not as well as you” he admitted with a boyish and bashful grin taking a hand behind his neck scratching it. “You know… same old, same old” of course if you considered the fact he lived in misery, thinking about you all the time and missing you in his life like a lovesick fool. Yeah, same old. Same story since you left.

“I… uh… good, it’s good to know you are alright” you added awkwardly. How was one supposed to treat a person who was everything in your life once but now was not even part of it. There was something utterly bizarre about acting so detached with a man who had seen, touched and fucked every inch of your body for about 6 years of your life! And now you both played your part as polite acquaintances.

“Where is Suguru?” The curiosity was killing him “He had a mission in Portland, he had to leave for a couple of days” you answered honestly “I see…” Satoru didn’t want to cut his time with you but his brain wasn’t cooperating, he needed an excuse… anything to just spend some more time with you before you kicked him out again. Fuck! God! Anything! Please! He didn’t want to leave you, not yet… just a little longer. But he didn’t know what to do or say to buy himself more time.

“S… Satoru… would you like to come in for a glass of wine?” You asked shyly. It was his birthday after all. He could have been anywhere in the world he wanted in this day. Hell! He could have been partying the night away in a club in Tokyo, instead he was here. He came to watch you dance… half way across the world.

“YES!” He replied too enthusiastically “I… I mean yeah, thank you I would like that” if he was a dog he would be wagging his tail by now. He followed you inside and took a seat next to you at the kitchen table after you poured him a glass “I know you don’t really like wine because it’s too bitter but I don’t have champagne” you offered a little apologetic smile “don’t worry about that! It’s alright… I can enjoy a glass of wine here and there” he replied taking a sip with a smile. He couldn’t believe you actually invited him in, he must have died and gone to heaven!

“Happy birthday…” you say softly looking into his beautiful cerulean eyes. Satoru smiled tenderly at you and looked at you with absolute adoration “thank you….” There was no other place in the world he would rather be right now, no other person he would rather see. This place and this moment meant everything to him.

The intensity of his gaze made you blush and look away. “I… have some red velvet cupcakes… would you like one?” Gojo nodded enthusiastically “I would love one” he watched you stand up and walk to to the fridge where you pulled out a plastic container with cupcakes. You placed it on the table and offered him one. He took it from your hands making sure his fingers touched yours in the exchange. Pure thrill electrified his body when he felt the warmth of your fingers on his skin. You looked into his eyes, he knew you felt it too but the moment was broken when you pulled your hand back and hurried to sit back across from him. “Thank you…” he took a bite of his desert and moaned in delight. He recognised the flavour of your recipe. You baked those yourself. “This is amazing Y/N” he praised your cooking with a delighted moan as he finished his cupcake and then went for another. You chuckled, some things never change. Satoru’s sweet tooth was the same as it had always been.

“Thank you… I tried a couple different ingredients this time” you confess making the white haired sorcerer swoon “it’s fantastic” you were fantastic. God! He had missed you so much! Fuck… seeing you so close, breathing you in, having you at his reach was killing him. He wanted to close the distance and wrap you in his arms.

A sudden movement from the corner of his eye alerted him of something climbing on his lap. He almost jumped out of his skin before he made sense of what it was. A little meow told him a feline had decided to make him his seat “and who is this?” Satoru asked petting the chubby and cute tabby cat that was now making itself comfortable on his lap “oh! Sorry about that! That’s Kiky,” he smiled and looked at the cat who was now purring “don’t worry… you know I love cats” he added chuckling, the gesture made your heart warm. “she usually is not this nice to anyone other than me…” your little kitten was even a little wary of Suguru. Geto explained it was because of his technique, he had too much chaotic cursed energy contained within him out of consuming curses which in exchange made cats not like him. Satoru on the other hand had a more stable flux of cursed energy that was an inherent part of himself which in exchange attracted felines to him.

“Well I am glad Kiky approves of me” at least someone in your household did! That was progress… right?

After that you both talked about cats while Kiky slept on Satoru’s lap, he kept letting the animal while your conversation went well into the night. It was as if an unspoken truce have been settled between the both of you. Talking about your career and his missions, a little bit about movies and shows you both watched, connecting in an innocent way.

“It’s getting late…” you said looking at your phone which read 2:33am “y… yeah, I should probably go back to the hotel and let you rest…” he said in a deflated tone. He didn’t want to leave but he knew he had to give you your space. “Thank you for the wine and the cupcakes” Satoru said while carefully moving the sleeping Kiky to the couch “of course… you are welcome” you said walking to the door with him. Satoru stopped and turned around to look at you. He wanted to close the distance between you both and kiss you with all his might. He couldn’t do that, he had to respect you. But he couldn’t help himself when he pulled you in for a hug. You were frozen for a minute before you replied wrapping you arms softly around his waist. “Thank you Y/N” you heard him say “Happy Birthday” you whispered once more before the sorcerer pulled back reluctantly “thank you” it was the best way he could have celebrated this date. With you.

By the time he got back to the hotel he went to bed with a huge smile on his face. Best birthday present ever, he got to spend it with you.

———> Chapter 14

Tags: @sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@okkotsuoasis

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

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@syynnaaah

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@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

@tampon-earrings

@actualdeemon

@janenks

#gojo x you #jjk #gojo saturo x reader #jjkgojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo x reader #gojo angst

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tvdiaries-imagines · 3 years

Text

Old Flame: Pt. 17

Warnings: Cursing, tobacco use

Word Count: 4694 (the longest chapter so far!)

OLD FLAME MASTERLIST: CLICK HERE

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

Klaus roared throughout the courtyard, furious that you are nowhere to be found after you successfully snapped his neck. The moon was out the last time he’s seen you but waking up, the moon had disappeared and now it’s daylight. He usually wouldn’t have woken up this late from a simple snapped neck, but you took a page out of his book and stuck a vile of vervain in his system after successfully finding his vervain collection.

Hayley and Jackson were across the way on the second floor, having a quiet chat beside the railing. “Who?” Hayley asked, puzzled.

“Y/N!” Klaus shouted, fuming as he’s glancing around the vicinity.

Kol stepped out of one of the rooms on the second floor after hearing a frantic original. Hayley and Jackson stepped inside the nearest room, figuring Kol could handle Klaus. “I thought she was with you, Nik?” Kol brought up.

“Apparently, she said she was fine last night.” Klaus raced towards his brother who sauntered inside the bedroom he’s occupying during his stay. “Then she snapped my bloody neck and disappeared with the stake.” He retrieved his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed your number. After a couple rings, he nearly cursed after being sent to voicemail. It wasn’t a surprise to him since almost every time you’re in a dire situation, your phone is never answered. But, Klaus figured he’d try.

“What happened to her when I left to speak to Esther?” Klaus asked, jaw clenched.

“If I tell you, give me your word that you won’t be cross with me.” Kol eyed him anxiously.

“What did you do?” Klaus muttered in an alarming tone.

“All I did for Y/N was a favor. I had no control of how she’d react.”

“Spit it out, brother. What is it?”

“She was worried about her friend, Kai Parker.” Kol answered. “Figured Esther was behind it, so she requested I find out. Turns out, mother sent him to a prison world and there’s no fixing it.”

“And that’s the reason for her lunacy?” The hybrid’s nostrils flared in aggravation.

“It is.”

“Good riddance. I don’t know what Y/N sees in that imbecile.” Irritation pricked at him.

To add even more stress, an angry Finn Mikaelson immediately walked in, magically breaking one of the vases on the table. “Where is she?”

“Finn, please, join us.” Klaus said with blatant mockery.

“Don’t make me ask again.” Finn sneered.

“I assume you’re referring to our mother. Fear not, she’s tucked away somewhere perfectly safe.” Klaus added. “You’ll never find her.”

“You think you’ve won. Let’s see how long that arrogance lasts, brother.” Finn glared at his brothers before turning around and marching away with heavy steps.

Klaus tried reaching you again but was sent to voicemail. That alone ticked him off and he was close to throwing his cell phone at the brick wall.

“I’m going to find Y/N. You’re coming with me, Kol.” Klaus made his way out of the bedroom in lengthy steps.

“Oh, splendid.” Kol responded back, trailing behind his brother.

Reaching the courtyard, there were a handful of Hayley’s wolf allies and Marcel’s group of vamps gathered together. Klaus is aware that it’s Hayley and Marcel’s attempt for them to make a truce for the bigger picture.

“Klaus, stop!” Hayley blurted, Klaus and Kol stopped in their tracks.

“Finn spelled all of the exits. We can’t leave.” Marcel added.

Klaus put a palm up at eye view, slowly reaching out until his skin sizzled against the spelled blockade, letting out a faint groan from the affliction. He threw his healing hand down to his side and shifted his view to his youngest brother, expression hardened. “Fantastic.” Klaus muttered sarcastically.

(Meanwhile…)

After disappearing into the night, you booked a suite at the Ritz-Carlton. You’re aware that Klaus has plenty of connections, so you assured that you didn’t put a card on file in case he traces it. Instead, you compelled the staff to allow you to stay for free. You even took extra precautions and showed them a photo of Klaus so that if he ever steps foot into the Ritz-Carlton, they’ll notify you right away.

Having your humanity off so far has been dandy because you had no care in the world. If you were your normal self, there’s no doubt that you would be following Klaus around like a lost puppy during one of his missions and the thought made you sick to your stomach right now.

You woke up this afternoon to your suite nearly trashed from the little party you decided to throw last night because you gathered a handful of good looking people from bourbon street and plenty of liquor to keep you inebriated throughout the night. A man and a woman stayed overnight, thanks to your compulsion. You knew you’d be famished this afternoon and fresh blood ultimately did the trick for you.

After an incredible shower and devouring your sinful snacks, you compelled your victims to bandage up their wrists and be on their way. Housekeeping began tidying up your suite after you made your way out.

Though your craving for blood is fulfilled, you desired a hot bowl of gumbo, so you threw on your sunglasses and trekked through the quarter, crossing your fingers that your pesky beau isn’t looking high and low for you in the area. Your heels clicked along the cement, wearing your best black dress sitting pretty just above your knees.

Gumbo Shop was what you decided on and the friendly host sat you down at a table inside, farthest away from the windows. She did as expected by leaving a menu with you and handing you off to a server.

Within the hour, all of your cravings are satisfied so you left a generous tip for your server and went on your merry way. You weren’t sure what you planned to do next, so you allowed the city to decide for you. A street performer captured your attention so you stopped to observe.

Out of the blue, you spot Finn Mikaelson nearly walking past you in a rush. “Hi Finn. Why are you always so glum?” You teased, brow raised. He put a halt to his steps, hands behind his back. He wore a dark suit, the jacket fully unbuttoned.

“No use in going home anytime soon, dear Y/N.” He implied arrogantly. “Nobody can get in or out, thanks to my spell.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but alright.” In the blink of an eye, Finn strolled away. “Change of plans I guess.” You smirked.

(Later…)

Entering through the gates of the compound, you discovered over a dozen people in the courtyard. It seemed like they were not enjoying themselves whatsoever. There were a few familiar faces as well, including Marcel, Josh and Hayley. You wondered if Klaus or Kol managed to get trapped here as well since they weren’t in the space from what you can see. Your presence seemed to catch everyone’s attention though.

“Don’t you all look cozy.” Your haughty tone was obvious.

“Y/N wait!” Marcel alerted. “Don’t take another step. Finn put up a boundary spell.”

“Thanks for the heads up Marcel. But I already knew that. I bumped into Finn earlier.”

“But you came anyway?” Marcel raised a brow in suspicion.

You shrugged your shoulders in response, leaning against the wall close enough to the invisible barrier. Once everyone else besides Marcel realized that you were no help in freeing them, they were no longer interested in your presence and went back to sulking.

“Ah I see.” He came to a realization. “You’re here to gloat. Why?”

“There you are.” Klaus appeared from the shadows. His edge of irritation returned and drew a scowl over his face.

“Here I am.” You were feeling exceptionally smug. While examining your fingernails, you planned to get a manicure after this foolish conversation.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?”

You showed uninterest without any eye contact as you pulled a cigarette and lighter from your purse. You placed the toxic stick in between your lips, lighting the end of it and taking a puff effortlessly as if you’ve always been a smoker. Klaus glared at your repulsive act.

“I’ve been around.” You responded after exhaling, finally making eye contact with the hybrid.

“Care to explain why you felt it was necessary to render me unconscious for hours on end and then scurry off to god knows where.” With a brisk elevator look, he motioned a nagging hand at you. Klaus was displeased with your outfit choice without him there to claw the eyes out of every man that looks at you with hungry eyes.

He almost asked you about the whereabouts of the white oak stake, but he remembered that there are ears around that he doesn’t trust.

“The thought of having to explain to you bores me.” You fake yawned. “So I don’t think I will.”

“Something’s different about her, Nik.” Kol added, his mouth set in a hard line.

“I’m aware. Her humanity must be off.” Klaus made his way closer towards you, stopping as close to the barrier as he could. You stepped over to be face to face with him, sniggering.

“There ya go.” You snorted in amusement, the toxic stick weighing at your sides, carelessly flicking off the ash on the grounds of the compound. “You really aren’t the dumbest Mikaelson, Nik.” Klaus ignored your unnecessary comment, his firing eyes following the cigarette going from your mouth to your sides.

Kol began sauntering over to his brother, standing side by side. “Oh sister. Your humanity, eh?” He shook his head in disappointment, arms folded across his chest. “I thought you were bigger than this.”

You dropped the half finished cigarette on the concrete by your feet, crushing the butt with the ball of your stiletto. “My favorite Mikaelson brother is disappointed in me.” Your hand flew to your chest, fake pouting. “I’m crushed. I really am.”

“Stop this nonsense immediately, Y/N.” Klaus said, a scowl strewn across his face.

“Or what?”

“Do not test me.”

“Well last time I checked, you’re trapped in there while I’m free out here. So joke’s on you, my love.” You teased.

A sinister chuckle left Klaus’s mouth. “You shut off your humanity for whom? A useless dullard.” You stared at the ceiling, placing your hands at your hips. “Out of all the choices Esther has made in life, I’d say that sending Sir Malachai Parker back to the prison world was the best one.” He grinned, hoping to have hit a nerve to get your humanity back. “It pleases me knowing that he will be stuck there for all eternity. All alone.” He chose his words carefully and perfectly.

Suddenly, your hands fell and your blank eyes set onto Klaus’s, unmoving. By your reaction, there was a glimmer of a chance that it worked. You grasped both of the Mikaelsons’ undivided attention.

“Nice try.” You cocked your head to your side, your once unreadable expression is now evidently complacent and it boiled Klaus’s blood. His hands clenched at his sides as he’s trying to hide his defeat from you. Kol just simply sighed at their defeat, aware that it was a longshot anyways. “I’m bored. Bye boys.” Without a care in the world, you turned on your heel and departed the compound.

Once you were out of sight, Kol turned to face his brother who was still looking at the spot you were once standing at, unable to mutter any words. “Nik?” Kol murmured, careful not to overwhelm him.

After a beat, Klaus continued to ignore his brother and vacated the spot where he stood. He made his way towards a vacant section of the compound. Kol followed behind him.

Before Klaus could touch the handle of one of the doors on the first floor, Kol attempted to acquire his attention for the second time. “Brother?” Klaus puts a halt to his long strides, taking a deep breath.

In the blink of an eye, he vamp speeds to Kol, barely leaving any space in between the two as his murderous eyes bore into Kol’s. “Don’t.” Klaus warned through clenched teeth. That dangerous tone itself informed Kol to leave him alone in the meantime. And just like that, Klaus swung the door open and violently slammed it behind him, causing a few of the other vampires and wolves to flinch.

Your mani and pedi finished in an hour. You began scouring the quarter for inspiration on what other shenanigans to get into again. After walking in and out of a few gift shops along the way and stopping to tip some of the street performers, you finally stumbled upon bourbon street.

Normally you’d throw your money at the bartenders in one of the many jazz clubs, however, house music blared through one of the other clubs and it instantaneously called your name. Males and females in their 20s occupied this loud space, yet, you didn’t mind one bit because they’re of your age compared to your 1000 year old lover with anger issues.

Dancing and mingling with these fine people made your current cold heart wish that Camille was here to join you. But you wouldn’t dare risk having her call Klaus or Kol and informing them of your whereabouts. Who knows, you might end up snapping her neck dead for doing so and you didn’t care to waste your energy. Marcel and Josh could be trusted not to tell a soul, however, they’re trapped in the compound.

You released your sharp teeth from a poor soul’s neck on the dance floor undiscovered. The warmth of her blood brought you satisfaction. “Go wipe that up in the restroom.” You compelled her and she walked off like a zombie.

(Meanwhile…)

The longer time passed with the magical barrier being up, the more Marcel and his vamps’s hunger grew for blood. It wasn’t looking good for Kol and the werewolves. They were practically walking blood bags.

To make matters worse, Klaus’s patience started running out. He needed to get to you before you caused any havoc or came to any harm. This is the first time you’ve ever turned your humanity off so he has no idea what to expect. The feeling made him sick to his stomach. Not to mention, the white oak stake can be anywhere but he trusts you’re smart enough to have it hidden somewhere good.

The entirety of the barrier will not diminish until nightfall and they couldn’t wait that long. But to their luck, it’s a miracle that Davina fancied Kol. She received a phone call from him, needing her assistance for a spell to lift the barrier and she put whatever she was doing on hold to come to his aid.

They were almost certain that the spell would work. However, being that Finn is channeling something extremely powerful, they were only to be given 60 seconds for the barrier to be down. The plan was to have the wolves, Kol and Klaus exit the vicinity.

Davina and Kol now stood face to face with the invisible barrier in between, palms as close to touching as it would allow them. Small, lighted candles lined up in front of the witches and a circle of salt surrounded them as they continued muttering their spell to one another.

Due to the spell taking its course, all of the vampires needed to resort to cowering in the shadows until after Kol and Davina’s spell die out. Klaus and the wolves were allowed to wait beside the barrier.

A gust of wind abruptly flew through Kol and Davina, causing the candles to blow out and some of the salt to scatter. They exchanged smiles and were relieved to have the chance to touch palms.

“Okay, Jack. Now!” Hayley announced.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jackson didn’t hesitate to rush his pack out of there, guiding them towards the exit along with Hayley.

“Remember, 60 seconds!” Kol reminded them. He was eager for the werewolves to egress and then he followed suit.

But before Kol could take another step, Klaus dashed to him, holding him by the shoulder. “Slight change of plans, brother.” In a trice, he threw Kol in the air until he landed about 50 feet away, grunting in pain. “I no longer have to treat you like anything but the treacherous liar you truly are.” The hybrid spat. Davina’s neck snapped to him, bewildered.

“What the bloody hell?” Kol gradually sat up, feeling just as confused as Davina.

“Where is she?” Klaus questioned, vampires eyeing his brother hungrily while they still waited in the shadows.

“Please, they’ll kill him!” Davina pleaded.

“Well, he should’ve thought about that before he betrayed our sister.”

“What will Y/N think?!” She added.

“Not to worry about my beloved’s opinions of Kol’s predicament. Let’s just say, she’s not herself today.” Klaus replied to Davina before returning his attention to the mischievous Mikaelson, who now rose to his feet. “Rebekah never made it to her new body, did she? Seeing as how you casted the spell, and well, you’re you. I’d hardly call it an uncrackable case.”

“Rebekah’s fine, Nik. It was a prank.” Kol quicked marched towards his older brother. “Nothing more than what you lot have done to me.” He pointed a nagging finger. “But I guess it’s different when it’s one-” The magical blockade was up and running again and its wrath burned Kol’s pale hand, causing him to reel backwards and hiss in pain.

“Barrier’s back up.” Klaus flickered his eyes at the ravenous vampires coming out of the shadows. “And those vampires look oh so hungry.”

Kol grew anxious as the vampires made their way to him like a predator ready to take down its prey. Davina’s eyes began to well up in tears, yearning to come to Kol’s aid.

“I was willing to welcome you back into my home, but you had to return to your selfish petty jealousies.” Klaus said. “Well, let’s see how they help you survive when you’re stuck in there!” He stormed off towards the exit without the thought of a glance. He felt no remorse whatsoever for his little brother.

(Meanwhile…)

The sun began to set and it was no secret that you look damned good in the tight dress and towering heels. A handful of men even offered to pay for your drinks and you obviously obliged although you could’ve easily compelled them to. This made your job much easier.

Since you were pretty buzzed and in an amazing mood, you allowed one of the pathetic men to dance with you, only being allowed to touch your arms or your waist.

Due to the substantial amount of liquor in his system, his confidence was at an all time high and he attempted to lean in for a kiss. You snorted at his juvenile gesture and turned the other cheek. “N-Nice try. Fun’s over.”

“Oh come on.” He insisted. As you were about to free yourself of his hold, he tightened his grip on your waist and it caught you off guard. Little does he know that you aren’t human, so you prepared yourself to use your vampire strength to free yourself. You smirked, allowing him this minor moment before you stripped it away from him.

The drunkard fool leaned forward once again to press his lips onto yours while his hands stroked your waist. You rolled your eyes, snickering as you seized his wrists. “I said-” In a flash, he was thrown across the dancefloor but it wasn’t because of you. Some of the clubbers' attention were focused on what just happened and others acted like nothing happened. Before he could think to stand to his feet, one of the sizable bouncers roughly brought him to his feet to begin dragging him out.

Everything happened so fast and you focused your view to the only person standing beside you to your left. Klaus Mikaelson. “Oh fuck you, Nik.” You grimaced at your inessential savior, your heels rapidly clicking off of the dance floor towards the exit. As much as you wished to vamp speed away, you were smart enough not to do it in the public eye. Humanity off or not.

Instead of hiding off in an alley, you stayed put by the entrance of the club where passersby can clearly see you, leaning against one of the brick walls. You searched through your small purse until you found a cigarette and lighter, but as you were about to light it, rough fingers pulled it out of your mouth.

Klaus didn’t mutter a word, but you can tell by the expression on his face and his body language that he was seething inwardly. You were revelling in the moment. “I’m a vampire. I can’t get lung cancer, idiot.” You scoffed at him. As much as you want to try to light another cigarette, you know that Klaus is just going to toss it.

“We’re going.” He grabbed a hold of your bare upper arm, signaling to follow him or suffer the consequences. You shook his grip off, unphased by it.

“You’re hilarious.” You said, keeping your feet planted to the ground. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I’m serious, love. This isn’t a game. Let’s go.” Klaus remarked, towering over you.

You peered up at him through your lashes, shooting daggers. “Did you forget? I don’t fucking care. Now leave me alone.” You shot him a glare and attempted to walk past him, but he stepped to the side as a wall.

“You out of all people know what I am capable of.” Klaus started. “And yet, you are determined to incur my wrath.”

“Your wrath?” You snorted. “Okay then, show me. Right here, right now. In front of all of these people.” Klaus took a peep over your head, unmoving. You hummed in amusement. “I thought so.”

You wasted no time and began trekking down bourbon street’s sidewalk, unsure of where you are headed as long as it’s away from Klaus. You freed your cell phone from your purse and began endlessly scrolling through social media, ensuring not to bump into anyone coming your way.

To your misfortune, Klaus materialized beside you, walking on the outside of the sidewalk. “Oh, you’re still here.” You said dryly, eyes never leaving the screen.

“In what world is this heretic worth your humanity?” He asked, disgusted. His eyes flickered from straight ahead to you.

“My world, apparently.”

“You know, you have people that could have helped you. There’s Stefan, Damon, Kol.” One by one, Klaus counted up to three fingers in the air before going back to relaxing his hand at his side. “Even Rebekah, if it weren’t for Kol’s foolish prank.”

“Good to know, Nik.”

He gazed at you, swallowing before speaking. “You also had me.”

“I can see that since you keep following me.” You finally peeled your eyes from your phone, throwing it back in your purse, raising your chin up at Klaus. He briskly narrowed his eyes, not allowing your cold response to get to him.

“Oh come now, sweetheart. Let’s not make this difficult for the both of us.”

“You’re making it difficult for yourself.” You waved an airy hand. “Now shoo, you’re killing the vibe.”

“Alright then, Y/N. I’ve been far more patient with you.” Klaus creeped up behind you and swiftly cracked your spine so that you were comatose. Then, he scooped you into his arms so that he held you bridal style.

To his luck, his swift, yet flawless gesture didn’t get a second look from anyone in the crowd. It seemed as if you were absurdly tipsy and he prevented you from falling to your knees. He felt a pang of relief and his tense shoulders relaxed knowing he can safely bring you home.

(Later…)

Finn’s barrier spell throughout the Mikaelson compound is now nonexistent. It is dead silent and the only two souls occupying this vast structure are you and the original hybrid for now. Your limp, unconscious body is tied to a wooden chair including your wrists and your ankles.

Klaus has been pacing for the past few minutes, conjuring up different plans to mentally bring back the woman he loves, instead of this facade of a nightmare that is taking over. And hell, if it weren’t for your humanity switch, he would revel in tearing that dress off of you and making love to you until the sunrise.

The sudden sound of your groaning put a halt to his steps. He watched as your head steadily moved up and you cracked your neck. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your surroundings which appears to be one of the many rooms in this godforsaken building. You raised a brow at your lover who is standing merely a few feet away just ahead of you. “This doesn’t look like the Ritz-Carlton.” You said in your head.

“It would be impolite if I didn’t ask how your catnap was.” Klaus commented, wearing a shit eating grin.

“It was fantastic.” You returned his cocky expression with a flashing smile of your own.

“Now that I have you where you can’t simply walk off, let’s get to business then, shall we?” Klaus took amble strides towards you and kneeled until he was at eye level with you. “This will only take a second.” He noted, voice low enough for only the two of you to hear.

As soon as his irises stared into yours, you turned your chin to the right, but Klaus was quick to seize your jaw with his strong fingers, shifting your view back to him. You knew exactly what his intentions were at that very moment.

He’s going to compel you.

The location of the white oak stake is still unknown to him and since he is closer to getting you back to your normal self, he’ll finally get the stake back.

“Get on with it already. I don’t have all day.” You implied. Klaus kept his frustration in check from your moronic remark and went on with what he intended to do.

Your eyes focused on his, observing his pupils fascinatingly growing and shrinking. "You will put an end to this madness and turn it back on.” He released his grasp on your face.

You blinked twice and your lips parted, chest rising and falling. “Nik.” You paused. “I-” Klaus began freeing one wrist from the bindings.

“What is it?” He asked, concerned.

As soon as one wrist was free, you sneered at him and before he could blink, you tore off the arm of the chair, flipped it over so that the sharp bit pointed out and stabbed Klaus in the neck with it. “Ah!” He called out, face contorting from the unexpected laceration.

Obviously, you could have simply kept playing it off as if your humanity was back so that Klaus frees you of all of the restraints. But, you wanted to poke fun at him instead. Inflicting pain onto Klaus was significantly more gratifying right now.

“You really thought you had me there, didn’t you?” You let out a burst of laughter. Klaus cried out in pain while pulling the stick of wood out of his neck and tossing it to the floor, taking heavy breaths as the gash healed. “Nice try, Nik. But I’ve been drinking vervain as of late. Thanks to Stefan and Damon for the tip.”

Instead of inflicting the pain back to you or snapping your neck to shut you up, Klaus stormed out of the room to overlook the courtyard from the railing. As much as he wanted to rip the railing off from his frustration, he shockingly kept his cool and an idea came to mind. He obtained his cell phone from his pant pocket and dialed a familiar number.

After many rings, his call was answered.

“Klaus?” The voice on the other line said.

“Hello, old friend.” Klaus grinned, oddly comforted to hear their voice. “I’m in need of a favor.”

A/N: Hope you guys appreciated the longer chapter!! I know the last one had a lot of Y/N x Kol moments, so I gave you guys more of Y/N x Klaus moments in this one. I have to say, it was quite fun writing with Y/N’s humanity off. And it was especially fun writing Klaus’s responses to it lol...Oh and I’m sure you guys can guess who Klaus’s ‘old friend’ is :)

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antipodeanpineapplelump · 3 years

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WIP... Tuesday?

Just in case anyone was wondering what useless novelty project I’m spending my time on now, may I introduce:

Or more accurately: “Shisui Uchiha and the Saga of the Overly Complex Movie Poster that’s Taking Up all of the Author’s Writing Time.”

Or: “Shisui Uchiha and the One-off Story that Accidentally Turned Into a Trilogy, much to the Author’s Total Lack of Surprise.”

So anyway, I have 30,000 words (3/9 chapters of the first part) so far and as usual, no timeline for completing this story. But I’m definitely in too deep to back out now! My new approach to stories is to write the whole thing, then post week by week. So this one is still probably several months away at least...

But here’s a quick preview:

The list of things Shisui Uchiha regrets in his life is pretty small.

A handful of ill-considered one night stands, several embarrassing bets with members of his family, the summer he decided to turn emo, oh—and one particularly notable fuck-up early in his career that very nearly ended it prematurely. But, for the most part, it’s been smooth-sailing.

Sure, maybe the odd rival takes a pot shot at him here or there. Ancient booby traps try to kill him, or the local wildlife steps in where they’ve left off. He and spiders are categorically never going to get along. But he’s never had cause to regret his career itself. He loves everything about treasure hunting—the adventure, the danger, the intellectual challenge of it all. The way his heart races when he finds some ancient artifact supposedly lost for good.

So, all in all, his current position—perched twenty feet up a silk cotton tree in India, surrounded by about two-dozen armed thugs personally out for his blood—well, that’s just another day at the office.

Two of the men walk below Shisui’s hiding place and he holds his breath, watching. They’re thick-built meat-heads; improbable amalgams of every jackbooted thug to ever grace a movie screen, with jawlines Chuck Norris could break a fist on, and brows that would make a Neanderthal proud. Supressing the snicker that threatens to escape him at the thought, Shisui wonders where Gato keeps finding these idiots. Some sort of steroid-fuelled body building conference maybe…

Comfortable they’re far too stupid to realise he’s here, he swings his legs back and forward, checking his bag to make sure his prize is still undamaged. Thankfully, despite having beaten a hasty retreat through the crowded city streets, the jewel-encrusted golden elephant winks up at him like a winning lottery ticket. One that’s going to pay for fancy canapes, champagne and extra leg room on Shisui’s flight home. Then a lot more afterwards.

But karma, as they say, is a bitch.

And karma, for Shisui, makes itself known in the form of a fluffy grey creature that plops down onto the branch beside him, joined in short order by half a dozen other partners in crime. At first, the macaque just fixes its intelligent gaze on Shisui, as though assessing what to do with him. Then, one very pregnant pause later, after the apparent realisation that no food is immediately forthcoming, the ringleader opens its mouth and screams. Loudly.

Shit.

“No, shhh…” Shisui orders in a loud whisper. “Oh come on, don’t be an asshole.”

The screaming continues, soon swelling to a cacophony as the others join in.

“Shoo!” he pleads, waving his arms around to try and scare them off. “I’ll buy you bag of bananas or something when I get down from here, just please shut up…”

But the little bastards don’t stop and, if anything, Shisui’s heated objection only seems to be pissing them off more. Which is fantastic, because truly the last thing he needs today is to catch rabies or—

From the bottom of the tree, someone clears their throat. “Ahem.”

Or that.

It’s smug, officious, and quite frankly, about the last voice Shisui wants to hear right now. Every part of him sinks. On reflection, maybe it was a bit arrogant to think he wouldn’t have been followed to the temple. To think he was just going to walk in, pilfer a several-centuries old treasure, and walk out again, a comfortable five-figure sum the richer for it.

But then, it wouldn’t be the first time.

Sighing, he looks down to see his least-favourite human approximation of a turd. “Gato.”

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favourite globe-trotting Uchiha. Fancy seeing you here,” Gato says, appearing inordinately pleased. His trademark sunglasses sit awkwardly atop his bulbous nose, straddling a pencil moustache that looks like a worm met its unfortunate end on his face some years ago, and he never bothered to wipe it off.

For reasons he can’t currently articulate, it annoys the shit out of Shisui. Possibly because if there’s anything he hates more than someone getting the better of him, it’s someone who’s as much of a fucking waste of space as Gato getting the better of him.

“Yeah well, you know how it is,” he says, glancing around for a quick exit. “Ancient treasures to find, damsels in distress to rescue…”

But unfortunately, the crowd of highly armed men around Gato is growing by the second, and Shisui’s options are looking somewhat thin on the ground. At least, all the ones that don't end with him riddled in bullet holes. Damn macaques…

Gato grins. In the pre-monsoon heat, sweat rolls down his neck and spreads like an oily stain across his collar. “Oh, I’m well aware of how you operate... You’re a businessman, just like me. Always taking jobs for the highest bidder.” Before Shisui can open his mouth to disagree, Gato holds up a hand, adding, “I know, I know… you don’t see yourself that way. Moral code or whatever it is you like to call it. But in reality, the only difference between us is that you have the air of legitimacy that comes with an academic backing, whereas I’m willing to admit what I really want.”

“And what do you want, Gato?” Shisui asks flatly, already knowing the answer. The tired old game they’re playing here.

“That trinket you have in your bag.” Gato licks his lips, as though he can taste the champagne he’s going to be drinking once he returns the statue to whoever hired him, to disappear into some private collection, never to see the light of day again.

“What do I get in return?” Shisui asks, even though it’s obvious from Gato’s expression that he’s not going to like it, whatever it is.

A mirthless laugh assaults his ears. “I’ll let you live to cross paths with me another day.”

As offers go, it’s not very believable. But as much as Shisui hates to admit when his luck’s run out, even he can see the writing on the wall. Today really isn’t his day. Sure, he might trust Gato about as far as he could throw him, but even Gato isn’t stupid enough to shoot him on a main street, in broad daylight. Probably…

Retrieving the golden elephant from his bag, Shisui tosses it carefully down.

Turning the trinket over in his hands, Gato lets out a hum of appreciation. “Very nice. My client will be pleased.” He hands it off to one of his many thugs to box up, then peers back through the branches, looking more like a slug than Shisui would ever have thought possible. Reinforcing the impression, his lips twist with a slimy smile. “Well, as always, it’s been nice doing business with you Shisui. But I think, unfortunately, you’ve caused me trouble for the last time.”

Far too pleased for Shisui’s taste, Gato steps back, raising his hand in a gesture that looks awfully like it’s intended as a final farewell. Or a smug ‘fuck you.’ Either way, the message is perfectly clear.

Shisui rolls his eyes, mentally scratching off another predictable villainous turn on his treasure hunting bingo card. “All right,” he calls after Gato’s retreating back. “Nice doing business with you too! See you next time...” Under his breath he mutters, “Asshole…”

Truly, Gato doesn't have an original bone in his body. It's like he once read The Idiots Guide to Being a B-Grade Movie Villain, then internalised it on the spot to make up for a lack of anything remotely resembling a personality. But, pathetic imitation of a villain or not, his bullets are still effective.

The leaves around him shred beneath the pop, pop of gunfire as Shisui sucks in a rushed breath, bracing himself for what he’s about to do. The branch wobbles precariously beneath his feet as he races along it, pushing off into air that rushes past, disconcerting and empty. The slender gap to the building seems to widen to the span of a gaping abyss—

He hits the rail of the apartment with thud, clambering quickly over it to fall on his back on the balcony, winded, but mercifully unharmed. A macaque peers over the guttering at him, with a leering grin that clearly threatens more screaming.

“Don’t you start,” he warns, waggling a finger at it.

But there’s barely a moment to catch his breath before the sound of splintering wood below indicates another problem. Or an extension of the same one. Bounding to his feet, Shisui scoops up his hat, settles it back on his head, and checks over the railing. A bullet clips the plaster nearby—a pretty good indication that Gato’s men have every idea where he’s gone. That, combined with the way they’re currently pushing through the lower doors to the complex probably doesn’t mean anything good for him.

“Shit,” he announces to no one in particular. It’s times like these he really wishes he carried a gun…

Forcing his way into the mercifully empty apartment off the balcony, Shisui slips quickly through it. Cracking open the door on the far side, he checks the coast is clear. It is.

Of course, it doesn’t stay that way for long. Halfway along the open air corridor, there’s a cry of discovery from his pursuers, followed by more shooting. Seriously, why are the bad guys always bringing guns to Shisui’s knife fights?

Ducking, he runs faster, bursting into another apartment filled with hazy cigarette smoke and shocked faces before finally making it to an exterior stairwell on the far side. Looking at the next building over, it’s immediately apparent the gap is way too far for him to use the same trick he did before. But with Gato’s men advancing on him from below, maybe he can just make it to street level and bypass them altogether…

A thicket of power cables criss-crosses the span between the buildings, with one nearby running almost to the level of the shop awnings below. Sending a rash of silent prayers to whatever gods take care of Indian power line maintenance, Shisui detaches a length of rope from his belt and flings it over the wire, gripping each side like a makeshift zipline. Holding his breath, he pushes off into empty space. To his surprise and considerable delight, the line holds.

It sweeps him across the street, picking up more and more speed, until the side of the other building is rushing at him like—

Shit.

He impacts it with his shoulder, coming to an uncomfortable and jarring stop. Pain shoots down his arm and he lets go of the rope, crashing through a fabric awning and landing ungracefully in a huge stack of bagged flour. Dust floats down around him and Shisui groans, moving each of his limbs in turn. By some miracle, nothing seems broken. Not even his tantō in its leather holster at his back.

Oh well. Fall down seven times, stand up eight…

Apparently his exit was none too subtle though, because Gato’s men are leaning over the stairwell railing, yelling and pointing at the mess he’s made. Dragging himself to his feet, Shisui evades an angry store owner, brushes flour off of his clothes and resumes running for his life.

Never let anyone say archaeology is boring.

As he emerges back onto the main street, searching for quick and easy exit, the sound of screeching brakes and angry honking carries from the road. Cutting a wild path through traffic is an old open-top olive-drab Jeep with several gold charms dangling from its rear-view mirror. It jerks to a stop just before hitting Shisui, both side wheels riding up on the curb.

“Need a ride?” the female driver asks, grinning.

Her windswept hair hangs past the fashionable silk scarf tied at her neck. Unmanicured nails wrap around the slender metal of the steering wheel, like they couldn’t be more at home there. They’re a stark contrast with the cream suit linen she’s wearing, rolled up neatly to her elbows. Speckled with dirt, it looks like she’s probably travelled halfway across the country to be here, and been up to her elbows in the grease of the Jeep’s engine at some point to do it. She’s a walking contradiction—albeit one Shisui is delighted to see.

“Izumi!” he exclaims happily.

Eyes sparkling, she waves. “Hey.”

“I thought you were practicing on the course in Reno this weekend… What’re you doing here?”

A shot rings out, kicking up dust near one of the tyres. Glancing behind him, Izumi rolls her eyes, reaching across to throw open the door. “What am I always doing? Saving your ass, you idiot... Now get in before one of us gets shot, or I have to find out whether my rental insurance covers illegal firefight damage.”

#uchiha shisui #uchiha izumi #future shisuita #new story #my art #really having fun writing this one #I'm such a sucker for adventure movies #and snarky team banter #and this combines both #aaaaand we've just been thrown into another covid lockdown #so more writing time here I come!#Shisui Uchiha and the Lost Treasure of Asura

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holykillercake · 3 years

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Hazy Justice - 03

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🇨‌🇴‌🇵‌!🇸‌🇲‌🇴‌🇰‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇽‌ 🇲‌🇮‌🇱‌🇮‌🇹‌🇦‌🇷‌🇾‌🇩‌🇴‌🇨‌🇹‌🇴‌🇷‌!🇷‌🇪‌🇦‌🇩‌🇪‌🇷‌

word count: 2.5k

summary: After eight years serving your country in a war, you returned to your hometown as the new head of Trauma Surgery in one of the best hospitals in the country. You were expecting a calmer life now, but suddenly you see yourself choosing between your brain and your heart, light and dark, justice and evil.

highlight: ¨You looked like millions of dollars, and you felt like millions of dollars.¨

warning: Use sunglasses. Too bright.

notes: .Dear comrades, it has been a while but it's finally here! With new characters and lots and lots of threads.

🇱‌🇪‌🇦‌🇻‌🇪‌ 🇨‌🇴‌🇲‌🇲‌🇪‌🇳‌🇹‌🇸‌, 🇭‌🇪‌🇦‌🇷‌🇹‌🇸‌, 🇦‌🇳‌🇩‌ 🇱‌🇴‌🇻‌🇪‌!

¨Hello...¨ you were instantly greeted by the tingling doorbells that let the owner know whenever a client entered the establishment.

Your eyes traveled to the half-moon bar where the slim and tall woman leaned casually, cigarette adorning her elegant fingers. Her eyebrows raised as she took in your figure, double-checking if you were not someone else.

¨Oh! Y/N-chan, is that you?¨

¨Shakky!¨ she made her way out of the bar to hug you ¨It´s so good to see you! You haven´t changed at all!¨

Her kind chuckle made you feel like a kid again, and you couldn´t stop yourself from tearing with the nostalgic feeling.

¨Thanks, Baby. Now you,¨ she put her hands on your shoulders and opened a distance, eyes examining you like a mother hawk ¨you look tired. Eight years in war made you no good.¨

You nodded and laughed ¨I guess we can put it that way.¨

¨Come, treat is on the house.¨

Clapping your hands, you followed the lady towards the bar. ¨So, where´s Rayleigh-san?¨

¨He just left, but it shouldn´t take long. He´ll be happy to see you, Y/N-chan.¨

The circumstances that connect you to Shakky and Rayleigh go way back to decades ago when your parents were still alive. By that time, all you knew was that they were friends, people you could trust. You were not allowed to ask more questions about their jobs, and you couldn´t find a suitable answer with the information you had.

They were always on the road, visiting only once in a while. They would bring incredible gifts from various countries and discuss ¨adult matters¨ with your parents while Crocodile helped you with homework.

Whenever you brought up your curiosities to your brother, he would say that they talked about the war, and you were too young to hear such things. Crocodile was also not allowed in the room, but he´d always peer into the conversation through the ventilation ducts.

If he´s saying, it must be true.

Since your dad was a Lieutenant Colonel, there was always the possibility of his unit being requested to offer back up or engage actively. You never minded it, though. He had already been sent to a lot of dangerous missions, and he came back every single time. He was strong and invincible. He would always return to his family.

Well, that was true until the day you found your mother in the kitchen, breaking in tears, holding a smudged letter in her hands, together with your father´s dog tag.

You stared at her and your brother, blinking in the hope of seeing what was wrong. The woman at the kitchen table did not look like your mother. She had no sparkle in her eyes or pride in her chest.

On the contrary, thick and dark tears fell from her eyes, blurred from the makeup that always accentuated her piercing gaze. Her lips were not curved in the tender smile she used to carry. Instead, she bit her lower lip so hard that you could almost see blood staining her pink lipstick.

¨Dad´s not coming home.¨ was all Crocodile said.

That was not the time when things got completely off track, but it was a significant change in your family's life. The government offered a military pension and a country flag for the services provided by your father. However, you had to be transferred to the Commercial District, where your mother worked as an archivist at the Ohara Institute of Historical Research.

¨Y/N?¨ you heard a male voice call, making you turn.

Your eyes shifted between the two male figures standing at the door. ¨Rayleigh-san!¨ you shouted like a kid seeing Santa Claus at the shopping mall ¨Smoker!?¨ this one came out more like a question.

¨You have grown, little one!¨ he patted your head like old times. ¨Maybe my white hair makes sense. I´ve aged!¨ he laughed cheerfully, and Smoker tilted his head.

¨Finer than wine!¨ you giggled, then turned to the other white-haired man, cheeks blushing ¨This is, uhm... I swear I´m not following you.¨

¨Oh, you two know each other?¨ Shakky asked, adding two more old-fashioned glasses on the counter.

¨We´re neighbors!¨

¨That´s great! Come, we have a lot to talk! Today is on the house!¨ Rayleigh shouted similar words as his wife. You wondered if that was the synchronization of personalities or if the alcohol he had prior was impairing his judgment.

Shakky decided to close for the day, wanting to spend as much time as possible in your company. The clock seemed to have stopped while you were drinking, eating snacks, and catching up on years of conversation.

It was funny how sometimes it felt like a ping pong game between you and Rayleigh. Every so often, the conversation would turn into matches of him serving shots of military-wise improper questions and you backhanding with ¨That´s classified information, Rayleigh-san.¨.

Did he have a poor memory or all those years of scotch and cigars in your father´s office taught him nothing? Either way, you were having too good of a time at that table to worry about his faulty memory.

¨Are you sure you´re neighbors?¨ Shakky asked with a playful grin ¨You seem to know nothing about each other.¨

¨I would say that´s a pretty sharp point.¨ you answered in the same lighted tone.

¨Tight schedules, I´d say.¨ Smoker added, shifting on the couch.

¨But it looks like you´re free today. How about dinner? Four of us, our house, like old times Y/N.¨ Rayleigh seemed too keen on this, and you wondered if he was trying to set you up on a date.

¨Well, as much as I would love that, I´ve got plans for tonight.¨

¨Let me guess,¨ Rayleigh created a tension ¨classified information?¨��

You laughed loudly at his stupid joke. It was a predictable Ray-san ice breaker, but you couldn't help yourself. This man was a blissful delight.

¨Much to your content, tonight´s plan I´ll be able to spill.¨ you teased him ¨I´m having dinner with Crocodile tonight!¨

What happened after you pronounced those words would have gone unnoticed by someone inattentive. It felt like a slight change in the air, like those quiet moments before a bomb exploded, when the clock stopped ticking.

You didn´t have the chance to question before Shakky took the wheel.

¨That´s great, Y/N!¨ her elegant hands embraced yours, affectionate and caring ¨Did you see how much he´s changed?¨

¨Uhm, actually,¨ you blinked, focusing back on the conversation ¨it´s the first I meet him in... eight years.¨

The tightness you felt in your chest almost made you tear, and the woman saw it. Her eyes carried a hint of compassion... or pity.

¨You miss him a great deal, right, Baby?¨

¨Yeah...¨ you shrugged ¨he was out of town when I arrived, so I only got the chance now. But how´s he doing? Did he change a lot?¨

¨Oh, baby, it´s been a while since we met. He´s a busy man, you know.¨

Your brows raised, then furrowed, and you had a perplexed smile hanging on your lips. You would not have believed those words if they hadn´t come directly from them.

¨Oh, wha- well, I´ll¨ a nervous laugh left your mouth ¨I´ll drag him by the hair, then! Busy man, bullshit! He used to bug mom and dad all the time, asking why you guys couldn´t live with us!¨

¨Don´t stress yourself over that, Y/N.¨ Rayleigh said with his gentle smile. ¨He runs a lot of businesses, I´m sure he would drop by more if he could.¨

Shakky nodded¨And, it´s your first time in the Light District, right? Was that the only district you haven´t lived in yet?¨

¨That and the Noble District, obviously.¨ you rolled your eyes.

¨You lived in all other districts?¨ Smoker asked after a silent moment in the conversation.

¨Yeah, long story and not that interesting. You´d be bored, trust me.¨

¨It´s rather difficult to find someone who lived in more than two districts, so I´d like to hear that.¨

¨Alright, but don´t say I didn´t warn you.¨

You peeked at your wristwatch, running some basic math in your head and deciding that it was time to go if you didn´t want to be late for dinner. Your lips twisted in a pout, and your expression dropped a little for having to leave this fantastic moment.

Surprisingly enough, leaving them was not as difficult as you imagined. Maybe because they reminded you that you could visit them anytime now, or because you did not want to act like a crybaby on Smoker´s car.

He said it was also about time for him to leave and offered you a ride back home. You would not have to take the subway and would get the chance to know him better.

A win-win situation.

The first minutes were a bit silent, but after you asked him if he should be driving since he had quite a lot to drink, he responded with an awkward stuttering that was rather charming. The conversation that followed was smooth as you realized he was way easier to talk to than you imagined.

Smoker was respectful, always making sure that it was ok for you to talk about your past while sharing some things about his life as well. Inside of that car, he almost seemed like a different person. His brows were not furrowed ad his voice sounded relaxed.

The ride ended too fast for your liking, and you saw yourself waving goodbye when deep down you wanted to ask him to stay for a coffee. Unfortunately, you couldn´t, maybe some other day. Now you had to make yourself presentable to meet your other half, your brother.

...

The Light District was nothing like you had seen before. The entrance was marked by a gigantic golden arch, which carried an equally shining bell.

Tall palm trees swayed in the cool breeze, tinged with orange by the sunset. Luxurious establishments, whose signs began to be lit, occupied both sides of the clear sidewalk.

From a distance, you could see the tip of the Ferris wheel of the Sora park. It did not spin due to the recess, but the lights remained on. The roller coaster that had been the cause of the accident was surrounded by tall metal poles, being repaired for the reopening of the place.

The driver Crocodile sent to pick you up lowered the window so you could enjoy the view to the fullest. Your hair started to fly in the wind, and a delicious smell of butter invaded your nose. The restaurants had already begun to heat up the pots to receive their customers.

The Light District was projected to offer convenience to the ones who were willing to pay the price. Therefore, all that was best was located in Eldorado Avenue, the main passage that extended for kilometers like a luxurious and soft red carpet.

¨We are approaching the hotel, miss Y/N. Sir Crocodile awaits for you.¨

¨Uh...¨ you murmured, amazed by the view.

You squinted when something reflected in your eyes, catching your attention, and a gasp got stuck in your throat when you spotted the famous Hotel Verde.

Well, it was impossible not to notice it.

First of all, it did not look like a hotel. It resembled more a small town. Even taller palm trees guided the way towards the entrance, both sides occupied by ponds and tropical plants. The building stood tall like a lighthouse and at the top rested an enormous golden statue of the reptile that represented its owner.

You did not wait for Daz, the man your brother chose to escort you, to get out when the car stopped. You put yourself out as soon as the limo parked in front of the main stairway. After so many years without putting on a heel, maybe you would accept a hand to go up the stairs.

Your hands smoothed the dark green silk dress that dragged on a short tail, courtesy of Crocodile, along with shoes and jewelry. You looked like millions of dollars, and you felt like millions of dollars.

When the valet took the car somewhere else, Daz put himself beside you, offering you his arm. Your heart pounded like the Ox Bell at every step, and you breathed through your mouth, trying to keep your cool.

You saw various types of people coming in and out of the hotel, all of them embellished with jewels and shiny tackles like Christmas trees. Each and every one exalted wealth and power, with their nonchalant glares and pointed noses. Your gut twisted, remembering Shakky and Rayleigh´s words, wishing Crocodile hadn´t turned into someone like them.

The long stairway was divided in the middle by a golden rail, separating who went up from who went down. That might have been the reason why the man coming down your way caught your attention. Or perhaps it was the weight of his gaze, hidden by the reddish specs. His blonde hair and skin seemed like gold, the pink suit looked orange-ish due to the sunset, and his wide grin made you quiver.

He walked with two men by his side, freeing the way for him. At some point, no one dared to come close to the stairs. It was only the five of you.

¨Daz!¨ the man, who seemed more familiar now, exclaimed ¨I wonder who´s the person that would make you leave your boss´back.¨

He approached you, hungry gaze brimming on his tongue. He was tall and seemed even more as he closed the distance.

¨Not even the luxury dolls get to be escorted.¨ he gently took your hand and kissed your knuckles with delicacy.

You weren´t convinced by his gesture. If anything, you felt bothered to see him disrespecting the house´s rules, as if that disrespected you directly. ¨Tell me, dear, what is your name?¨

¨If you wish to know something from someone, it is more appropriate to introduce yourself first.¨ your voice came out indifferent and a vein popped on his forehead before breaking into laughter.

¨Fufufu I can´t say you are wrong!¨ he leaned back, large hand on his stomach. ¨I´m Donquixote Doflamingo. It surprised me that you couldn't put that together. Now tell me, doll, what do they call you?¨

You sighed and looked around, spotting a figure at the top of the stairs that lifted your mood and gave you all the strength and confidence you needed to end the conversation. A smile grew on your lips as you turned to Doflamingo, eyeing him with nothing but the will to leave.

¨They call me Lieutenant-Colonel Y/N L/N, Division Surgeon of the Army. Or just LT Colonel L/N if you prefer.¨ you offered him a respectful nod before turning your attention to the man who waited for you with a smile on his face. ¨Now, if you excuse me, Mr. Donquixote.¨

#one piece #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #captain smoker #smoker #smoyan hahaha #op fanfic #crocodile #sir crocodile #eldorado #daz #dark king rayleigh #rayleigh #shakky #one piece doflamingo #doffy

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anubislover · 3 years

Text

A Tea Party for Baby 5

(Gift fic for @velvety-love for the OP Secret Santa 2020! I really hope you like the fic - it was a ton of fun to write!)

It was quite the sight, the infamous Donquixote Doflamingo sitting at a small table in a child-sized chair, his knees practically pressed into his chest, but he would maintain that for a man of his status, any seat was a throne. Before him was a decadent assortment of pastries, chocolate-covered fruit, finger sandwiches, and quiches. Baby 5 had recently begun training to be the family’s maid, and this tea party would be a useful way to hone her serving skills. Since the eight year old girl was still too short to reach the dinner table, this was a perfectly reasonable alternative.

And yes, the dolls and stuffed animals sat up in their own chairs with cups and saucers was also absolutely necessary. She needed to learn to serve multiple people, after all.

“More tea, Young Master?” Baby 5 asked, hefting up the large china teapot, a hopeful smile on her face. There was a bit of tension around her mouth, though; visible strain from the weight of the pot that she desperately sought to hide for fear of disappointing him.

Doflamingo grinned, holding out his pink floral-patterned cup. “Yes, please.” The child had insisted on being useful to him, and while his main interest was in the deadly Devil Fruit powers she possessed, it was nice having some proper servants around.

However, her little arms trembled, the pot far too heavy for her, resulting in her inadvertently missing the cup and instead spilling hot tea onto his hand.

“Gah!”

“Oh no! Young Master, I’m so sorry! Let me get you a towel, or some ice!” she cried, nearly dropping the teapot in her panic. Luckily, Doflamingo was able to grab it before it could fall and set it on the table, preventing tea from splattering everywhere and staining his suit pants.

For a moment, his hand clenched and he glared down at her through the lenses of his fierce red sunglasses. The former Celestial Dragon wanted to be upset. She’d burned him! How dare she—

But then he looked at her distraught little face, eyes already wet with tears, and he was suddenly reminded of his precious little brother when they were children and how hard he’d tried to please him…

Picking up a napkin, Doflamingo wiped his hand clean of the tea. Honestly, it hadn’t hurt. Barely anything to someone like him. And she was trying. Really, it was impressive she could even lift the pot, considering it was nearly as big as she was and how thin her arms were. They really needed to get some meat on her bones—she wasn’t the half-starved waif who’d come to him in desperation anymore. She was part of his family. It was his job to take care of her.

Coming to a decision, Doflamingo removed a stuffed dog from the chair at his right and patted the seat. “No worries, Baby 5. Come here and I’ll pour the tea.”

“Ah! But Young Master, I—”

He gave her a reassuring smile, one as gentle as he could manage. “It’s fine, Baby 5; proper tea party etiquette says that the host should serve.”

“But then, you don’t need me,” she said sadly, small body slumping miserably.

Inwardly he grimaced. The last thing he wanted was for her to cry. So, he grinned more widely and picked her up by the back of the dress, plopping her down into the chair. “Sure I do! I need you to be a good guest! I can’t work on my hosting skills if I don’t have guests. These guys,” he said, indicating the dolls and toys, “are terrible conversationalists.”

Baby 5 visibly perked up, thrilled at still being needed in some capacity. “Oh! That’s true. Then I’ll be the perfect guest for you! I’ll be anything you need, Young Master.”

A small sigh of relief escaped his chest. Crisis averted. She was happy, and while serving himself was not ideal in most circumstances, the child could learn by example and he wouldn’t have to worry about his suit.

Getting an idea, he attached his strings to one of the dolls sat around the table, making it lift the teacup so he could pour. “Watch carefully; it’s important to hold the pot from both the handle and the spout to avoid spilling. We don’t want even a drop on the nice white tablecloth, do we?”

“No, we don’t,” she agreed, studying his technique carefully. Her dark eyes took in his every movement with near-reverence, her own little hands even miming him to ensure she would get it right later.

Satisfied, he filled Baby 5’s cup and offered her a blueberry scone. “Here, eat up—you’re a growing girl, and someone who works as hard as you deserves a treat.”

“Really?” she asked, even though she was already practically drooling as the smell of the pastries she’d baked that morning wafted up her nose.

“Really. Now have a scone, then some sandwiches, and then you can help yourself to the tarts and cupcakes.”

Practically glowing with happiness, she snatched one off the plate, but froze before she could shove it into her mouth. “Oh. Sorry,” she said, setting it on her plate and picking up her knife and fork.

Doflamingo shook his head. “Nah, you were right the first time. Eat the scone with your hands. Save the fork for the quiche.”

Thrilled that she was getting to sit at the Young Master’s side and enjoy the goodies she’d baked and laid out to his specifications, she tucked in, smile so wide her cheeks ached.

It was…kind of cute, seeing her so happy. Just a child eager to belong. Sure, she would make a fantastic assassin, but there was no reason not to let her have little moments like this, right? The chance to just be a kid and have fun? His father’s foolishness had denied him that joy after they’d left Mariejois, but he was far better than Homing.

He was the patriarch of the Doflamingo Family; it was his job to keep everybody happy. To give them all they could ever ask for so that they would do the same for him.

Looking her over, he wondered what else he could do. Her bow and dress were looking a little worn. He’d order replacements. Simple ones for everyday wear, but he was sure he could get her something cute and fancy as a reward the next time she got back from a mission. Dress her up like a doll and show her off. New shoes would be a must, too – he and his brother had constantly been outgrowing theirs, and while he doubted she’d every reach his exalted stature, she certainly would grow up to be a lovely young woman.

And lovely young women attract boys, he thought, scowling for a moment behind his teacup. Gonna have to watch her like a hawk once that happens. Can’t have anyone thinking they’re good enough for Baby 5 and trying to steal her away. I’ll make sure she’s got no reason to leave the Family. Who could provide for her like me, anyway?

On a whim, he got another idea – something that would surely amuse and delight her. Holding out his hands, he attached his strings to a pair of dolls. Like a puppet master with a pair of marionettes, he made them waltz around the table, chuckling while Baby 5 applauded and laughed with joy.

“Figured the least they could do was put on a show for us as thanks for our hospitality,” he explained, making a few more join in so it almost resembled a ball. “Too bad we can’t bring the toys to life—then they could dance without the strings.”

“Maybe there’s a Devil Fruit out there that can do that,” Baby 5 said excitedly, eager to help in any way she could.

“Hmmm, maybe there is. I’ll have to look into it,” Doflamingo agreed, rubbing his chin. The hand fell to pat her on the head. “What a clever girl you are.”

As she beamed up at him, there was a knock at the door, and without delay Corazon strolled in carrying Buffalo and Law by the back of their shirts like a pair of squirming kittens. Law even seemed to growl at his manhandling. Clearly, they’d been caught by his right-hand man doing something they shouldn’t, at least if the way he ground the cigarette between his teeth was anything to go by. However, all three of them froze at the sight of their leader serving tea to his maid-in-training surrounded by a bunch of dancing stuffed animals.

“What the he—” Law started, staring in utter bafflement.

“Ah, just in time! Baby 5 and I were having a tea party! Sit down and join us!” Doflamingo exclaimed cheerfully, indicating the newly-empty seats.

“Yes! Please, join us!” she chimed in eagerly. Even though they could be rude and mean, she considered the two boys her closest friends, so of course she wanted to have them involved. Corazon, too, even though he was grouchy and clumsy and might make the tablecloth catch fire.

Corazon looked between the tiny chairs and the uncomfortable-looking way his brother was sitting, then raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“Oh, come on, little brother! It’s perfectly comfortable,” he said, even though he could already feel his legs cramping up. Ah well. At least he wouldn’t suffer alone, and Baby 5 could have some time enjoying herself with friends. She needed more socialization. Maybe he should call up Vinsmoke Judge – he had a daughter about her age, didn’t he? Maybe they could set up a play date.

“I’m not taking part in some stupid tea party,” Law groused, glaring at the utter ridiculousness around him.

“Kid, you can either sit down under your own power or I can tie you to the seat,” Doflamingo warned with smile. He turned to the child beside him. “But thank you for providing Baby 5 with another valuable lesson – boys are obnoxiously stubborn.”

“Law, c’mon, let’s play along-dasuyan,” Buffalo not-so-quietly whispered, eyeing the tray of cupcakes.

“Fuffuffuffuffu! But they’re easily bribed with food,” he added, smirking when she giggled. Pleased with himself, Doflamingo gave the three new guests a terrifying smile. “Now, you gonna join us like proper gentlemen, or am I going to have to show you to your seats?” he asked, raising his hand meaningfully.

A shiver ran down their backs and neither Law nor Buffalo argued as Corazon plopped them both in a chair before gingerly taking the spot opposite his brother, grimacing at how sore his legs and back would be after this.

Pleased that her friends were in fact joining the party, Baby 5 instinctively rose to her feet to serve them. A large hand on her shoulder stopped her, though, causing her to look up at Doflamingo inquisitively.

The patriarch smiled down at her, sincerity in his tone. “Now now, I told you the host should serve. The hostess who made all the preparations needs to take a load off and enjoy herself. Let us take care of you for once,” he said, pinching her cheek.

Yes, he’d take care of her, she’d take care of them, and they’d all live together as a big, happy family. What more could anyone want?

@op-secret-santa-2020

#op-secret-santa-2020 #One Piece Fanfiction #baby 5 #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo family #donquixote rocinante #donquixote corazon #trafalgar law #trafalgar D. Water Law #buffalo #tea parties #tea party #tooth-rotting fluff

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astrovian · 3 years

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the official ranking of Claude Becker outfits

the official ranking of Daniel Miller outfits here

the official ranking of Adam Price outfits here

all Claude Becker outfits & rankings under the cut

we all know RA looks good in a suit, blah, blah, blah

after two of these rankings, this outfit is the physical embodiment of a yawn

I do appreciate the patterned tie to change things up a tad even if I’m not into the pattern itself. the intent is there, just not the execution

I will give props to the team for giving Claude a patterned dress shirt here (you have to squint a bit on the second image - more on patterned dress shirts later), but they really should have upped the game a little - change the tie & be less subtle with the shirt pattern

and I ask you, does Claude Becker not strike you as a man who would insist on at least a pocket square with his suits?? dream bigger stylists

3/10

@whoever stores old movie props if these weren’t disposed of immediately after filming i will pay you for a copy of one of these

putting aside the hilarious social commentary and fucking literal writing on this magazine cover done by some poor prop designer at 2am (”How to starve artists and other capitalist things”, as well as ”Claude Becker rolls up his shirtsleeves and unties his tie and puts on a vest and casually hangs his hands from his pockets” etc.), this is a nice change-up that made me question why we don’t have RA in just a waistcoat and dress shirt more often

also that tie pattern? fab. I love it. that is how to do a patterned tie. I hope we all know RA looks good in a suit, blah, blah, blah is paying attention

that being said, minimal points because we don’t actually see Claude wearing it in real life

4/10

where, oh where is my polo shirt? oh look, it’s right there

is there any RA character who is not afflicted with a polo shirt? not recently, apparently

I genuinely thought that it was a dress shirt for a moment which had me disappointed at the banality but then that turned into utter devastation as I realised we actually are looking at a long sleeve zip up polo shirt

the draping of the coat? phenomenal and what really brings this entire thing together

the long/three-quarter sleeves? the zip-up rather than buttons? better than one can normally expect from a polo shirt... and then they went and added stripes to the collar and sleeves?? regret

could be a lot worse but could ultimately also not be a polo shirt as well 4.5/10

could have tried harder during lessons but was a pleasure to have in class

I’m sure you all know my long-sleeve shirt obsession with RA but I made a promise to be honest with myself on these lists. the only feeling this outfit evokes is a ‘eh’

the equivalent of a middle slider 5/10

the Claude you’d actually have a fun day with

there’s something about RA in a hoody that just bangs. good lord I also have a weakness for those forearms

I also thought for a good moment these were dark jeans, but they disappointingly turn out to be sweatpants? however, it has made me think that we need to see RA in some darker denim shades more often

this Claude is could have tried harder during lessons but was a pleasure to have in class but with just a little more fun and class to boost it *just* outside of the ‘eh’ zone

5.2/10

now this is how we do a long-sleeved shirt

I think it’s been fairly well-established by now that loose, long-sleeved RA is my ultimate weakness, so it’s nice to see that Ocean’s 8 is also making a concerted effort to murder me

also Claude’s obsession with sweatpants is giving me life

this is the Claude you make pasta with. and that pasta would be damn tasty, too

5.9/10

come hither

just-woken-up Claude is made 100x better by the bed head hair and the sleepy gaze

this man needs to get back into bed for a snuggle (preferably with me)

I can’t decide if I’m into the loose boxers or missing the tighter Adam Price undies. either way, it’s definitely not a bad aesthetic. and it reminds me, like dad chic Adam Price, that we don’t get enough of RA in shorts

I feel bad assigning numbers to a a shirtless one BUT Claude does transform into being fully-clothed in this scene so I’m going with it 6.4/10

you can kiss my hand anytime

the blessing of this film is not only the visual assault of attractive actors from all sides and genders, but it also instigates in me the thought that RA is wearing printed dress shirts and I can’t remember the last time I saw this?? I never even realised how much I need to see a lot more of this kind of look on RA until we were blessed with this vision

look at those lil’ elephants!! adorable. I hope Claude has a closet full of these with different animals on them

this outfit was so good, RA even wore it in his behind-the-scenes interview

7/10 for a printed, suited dream

the Claude you take home to mom & dad

god, it’s even better without the suit jacket

this is my honest appeal to the powers that may or may not be to put RA in more printed dress shirts

7.6/10

sometimes I think I should be more ashamed of myself

I feel like I need to preface this one thusly: okay, but like hear me out for real this time

I know this is ultimate hipster white-dude look and RA plays into that character so fantastically with Claude here. I mean just look at his expression. something about this whole look makes me want to simultaneously punch this man in the face and also take him home with me

this is a man who you know is a mistake before you make it, but choose to follow through anyway. he’s that last shot of tequila or the 5th glass of wine. you know you would go for him too. don’t even try to deny it

is the high ranking because of the novelty factor? is it because I’ve never seen RA wear a beanie like that and honestly the infamous running Daniel Miller could take notes? is it because I can’t take anyone who wears a beanie like that seriously?

all we do know is that I also can’t believe this is so high on the list

7.8/10

the moment we all learned Claude is 100% a bottom

one of the most iconic Claude moments in the film. RA plays the ‘dumb horny idiot’ character so well in this scene

not so into the pinstriped suit jacket but the hoodie peeking out from underneath combined with the thin scarf makes it for me

8/10

question: how may teeny-weeny scarves does Claude own, exactly?

who could forget the iconic moment when Sandra Bullock nearly shivs RA?

we have another printed dress shirt and I am HERE for it. it even has birds this time!! nice to see that Claude is not just a land mammal sort of man

I will concede that this is the sort of pattern that few men can pull off but RA is making it work and I am living

8.7/10

I’m not sure I can make a comment on this one that is even remotely appropriate except for “I told you Claude is a bottom”

safety first, buy some proper restraints for the bedroom please Claude/10

modern royalty au Thorin

this is the moment that every single Hobbit fan went “hell yeah, now I have the perfect new aesthetic for my modern royalty Hobbit AU” (as an avid lotr/hobbit fan, I am not joking here)

RA looks like royalty here because he should be. please sign my petition to have RA usurp the British Queen

for real though, that baby blue sash is the 1000% perfect added touch to this suit and we love RA in a baby blue. a decent (and clearly successful) effort to match the faux Met Gala theme: European royalty. however, it is also pretty accurate re: the imaginative effort that most men have with altering their Met Gala outfits to fit that year’s theme

we need more RA in ‘modern royal’ roles for the #aesthetic and also so that he can dress like this more often

9.3/10 for a princely (or dare I say kingly?) figure

James Corden looks so gleeful running after Claude that it makes me happy. I get it, James. I get it

there’s really nothing spectacular about the general outfit here - except for the swagger RA is giving this

pants? shirt? boring, meh

check scarf? a brilliant switch up from Claude’s normal thin scarves.

the popped coat? now we’re cooking

the sunglasses and wind-ruffled hair that screams “I’m hungover but I still look effortlessly handsome”? delectable

the dogs?? the best set dressing one could ask for

the attitude and ‘I’m too cool for you’ swagger? priceless and what makes this the second-best outfit of the whole film

9.6/10 this man could punch me and I would be grateful

hot diggity dog, someone get me Claude’s handcuffs

from the front view, it could be argued that this outfit (well, technically it may not really be a separate outfit as it’s the undone version of modern royalty au Thorin), while fairly exceptional, does not first place make

however, someone had the idea to shoot RA from a side angle in this and for that I am eternally in their debt

it’s all about the tease with this one. the glimpse of the suspenders (and holy shit, RA in suspenders was not a look I had thought about before). the way the waist coat hangs off Claude’s chest like that, just enough to make its presence obvious. the cufflinks. the delicate pocket watch chain.

if previous outfits on this list have been all sex and swagger, this is the foreplay. the subtle strip tease.

10/10

#thanks for the responses to my photoshoot query y'all I think that is next #though it might be a two-parter given the volume of photoshoots #then thinking lucas north after that #hoping to get photoshoots pt. 1 done next week sometime anyway #but who knows because good ol' Boris Johnson is sending me back into an unsafe environment to teach germ-riddled teens very shortly #so I need to spend some serious time doing prep work for that over the coming week #let's pray I don't catch covid from the kids until I can get vaccinated in summer!!!#based on previous experiences I give it 1 & 1/2 weeks before us teachers start dropping like flies #ANYWAY #richard armitage #claude becker #ocean's 8 #ocean's eight #oceans 8 #oceans eight

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imaveryevilenby · 3 years

Text

The Fallen and Forgotten

Chapter 1

word count: 923

The old ship rattled onto the landing platform in the City-State of Avastia. Workers quickly rushed up to aid in the ship’s descent, knowing full well what happened last time. They grabbed fire extinguishers and sent someone to run and tell the boss that “That damned ship is back! Quickly, tell it to leave before it crashes again!”

The engine sputtered and the workers held their breath as the ship picked up speed in its descent. Thankfully, the engine roared back to life a bit before the ship hit the platform, slowing its descent just enough to make a safe landing, but still making a hard landing with a mighty THUD as workers scrambled to get out of the way. The pilot smiled, amused at the panic of the landing crew. They opened the exit door and got up out of their chair.

“Nice landing, huh?” they said to the other two people in the ship.

“I mean, at least it was better than last time” responded the ship’s mechanic, Klic. “At least it won’t cost us thousands of credits in damages and repair.

Klic was a small, skinny creature with skin the color of the sky on a stormy day and large, round eyes constantly covered in sunglasses except in the darkest of conditions. His species came from a planet of perpetual night and winter, having to survive on the creatures that thrived under the ice, utilizing the heat of the planet’s core to not freeze to death. Most of his species had left their home world already, as the core had started to cool down, signifying the impending demise of all life there. They’re found everywhere across the galaxy and somehow always have the ability to speak whatever language you needed them to.

“Oh, go choke on a wrench, Klic.” Retorted the pilot, staring at Klic as though they might throw him through the front window.

“Captain, that’ll cost us about 700 credits and we don’t have that kind of money to spare.” the second crew member, Myslel butted in.

Myslel was a human of about average height and weight. Her white hair was always tied in a bun, exposing the gem implanted in her forehead. This was the only visible part of an enhancement to her body that allowed her to read a person’s brain waves and vital signs. She says it can’t be used to read minds, however she always manages to do so. Unfortunately, the procedure to have it installed had the minor side effect of erasing all her memories up to that point. So her name means “thought” in the old Earth language, Czech. She insists on calling the pilot Captain even though there really is no captain of their ship.

The pilot sighed, “I know but it would be so, so much fun,”

“Captain...”

“Alright, alright fine I won’t. Grab your gear and let’s get going. They’re probably waiting down there with a whole fire brigade.”

They opened the hatch and stepped out into the cool breeze and warm sunshine of a beautiful Avastian day on Relicta. The pilot’s long flowing hair blew in the breeze as they looked out at the frightened faces of the landing crew and the red, furious face of their boss, Jesan.

“Nas you son of a bitch! You swore to me that you’d have that gods damned engine fixed before you ever tried to dock here again!” Screamed Jesan, becoming more aggressive with each passing word”

“Well, we did!” replied Nas, the pilot. “We didn’t crash this time, and nobody was hurt so I’d say we did a pretty good job, too!”

Jesan’s rage grew, “A pretty good job?! A pretty good fucking job?! Your engine cut out during descent and pure fucking luck made it so you wouldn’t crash into the ground and kill yourselves and others!”

Nas, looking for a way to anger Jesan further, pointed to Klic and said, “He’s the mechanic, blame him.”

Klic, looking at Nas like their claim was completely idiotic, said slowly, “Nas, I would have been able to completely fix it if it wasn’t for the fact that you spent a ton of our money on drinks and gambling.”

Now, Jesan’s rage had reached it’s maximum capacity. She could barely even speak over the thoughts of murdering Nas right then ad there. Myslel shot Nas a warning glance, knowing full well what was about to go down.

Nas, trying to hide a smile, said “Oh yeah that’s right! Oops.”

Jesan, in a fit of blind rage, reared back and punched Nas as hard as she could in the stomach. There was a thud and a barely audible crack as the punch landed, Jesan reeling back in pain and clutching her hand. Nas, on the other hand, remained unphased.

“Forgot I’m half metal, didn’t ya?” Nas laughed as they watched Jesan writhing in pain.

You see, Nas was a cyborg, getting metal limbs and a torso as more than half their body was destroyed in an explosion. Nas constantly gets new modifications to it, claiming their half robotic body isn’t perfect yet.

Myslel, already at Jesan’s side, looked up and said, “Nas, why do you feel the need to do this? You broke the poor woman’s hand!”

Nas, now trying to stifle their laughter, said, “Hey, it wasn’t me, she started it!”

Myslel gave them a look and went back to tending to Jesan’s injury.

What a perfect way to land, Nas thought, I have a feeling today’s gonna be a fantastic day!

#lily writes #the fallen and forgotten

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dontcare77ghj · 3 years

Text

Stop

Tony x reader x Steve x Natasha

Notes; The reader has powers akin to Psylocke from X-Men. Also, I would have uploaded sooner, but it was my birthday yesterday, and I forgot. Sorry.

"I'm gonna miss the beard." You said, watching Steve as he shaved off the beard he had grown.

"Tony never liked it," Steve commented. "He said it was too scratchy."

"Like he can talk." Natasha snorted, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. "We're going to find him, Steve." She promised the blonde.

"And what if he was dusted?" Steve asked, turning to you. "What then?"

"We bring him back," Natasha said. "He can't get away from us that easy." She joked, causing Steve to laugh weakly.

"Y/N, you're awful quiet," Steve noted as he and Natasha looked at you.

"He needs to come home." You said, looking up.

"We know. Carol's looking for him now. If he's out there, we'll find him." Natasha assured you.

"No, he needs to come back to us." You said, placing a hand on your stomach.

"Y/N?" Steve asked, taking a step forward.

"We're pregnant." You announced, flashing a watery smile at both your partners. "I felt really sick after the battle and had FRIDAY scan me. We're five weeks pregnant."

"This is amazing, Y/N!" Natasha cheered, turning you in her arms to kiss you deeply. "We're going to be parents!"

"This is such fantastic news," Steve said, pulling both you and Natasha into his arms. "Our family is growing." He smiled, putting his hand on your stomach.

"That's why Tony has to come home. So he can be here. I don't want to just tell this baby about Tony. I want them to have all their parents raise them."

"We'll get him back," Steve promised you. "Whatever it takes."

Before any of you could say another word, there was a loud humming sound that shook the walls of the building.

"FRIDAY, what was that?" Natasha demanded.

"It appears Carol Danvers has returned. She is carrying a large spacecraft with her."

"Tony." The three of you said before rushing outside.

Bruce, Rhodey, and Pepper quickly joined the three of you, and soon the six of you were all gathered on the front lawn, watching as Carol flew down.

You'd never believed in God before, but at this moment, you found yourself praying Tony was on that ship and alive.

As the ship was placed on the ground, the door opened. A raccoon walked out, followed by a blue woman and then,

"Tony!" You shouted, rushing forward with Natasha and Steve on your heels.

Tony looked half dead. He was incredibly pale and thin. His form was shaking as you pulled him into your arms.

"You're alive. You're here." You whispered, clinging onto his shirt tightly. When Tony didn't respond, you took a step back and allowed Natasha and Steve to embrace him.

"I lost the kid." Tony gasped after Steve pulled away.

"Tony, we all lost," Steve told him with a grimace.

"You need to get looked over," Natasha demanded, putting one of Tony's arms around her shoulders.

"No, we need to talk about him," Tony said, panting by the end of his short sentence.

"You need to go to the infirmary." You said, narrowing your eyes at the man. "You're about to collapse."

As Steve wrapped his thick arm around Tony's midsection, Tony seemingly lost his fight and slumped in their hold.

After having rested for a while, Tony explained what had happened on Titan to you all. When Nebula announced that she may know where Thanos could be, everyone prepared to leave.

Everyone except you.

You had volunteered, been forced to stay behind by Natasha and Steve, to stay with Tony.

"Tony, you need to stay in bed." You sighed, gently pushing on his shoulders.

"I can't stand this. Who invented bedrest? I just want to talk to them." Tony grumbled, leaning back against his pillows.

"Yeah, I don't think you can talk to him. He died in 1914." You informed him.

"Absolutely ridiculous," Tony said under his breath.

You were about to reply to him when a sudden bout of nausea overwhelmed you. You rushed over to the trashcan by the door and lost this morning's breakfast.

"Y/N?"

"I'm fine. Just give me a second." You said before throwing up again. "Ugh, that's gross." You complained once you were done.

"What the hell was that? Are you okay? Are you sick? Is it the flu?" Tony asked in rapid-fire succession.

"I'm fine, hon." You cut him off. "I'm gonna put this in the hall. This is disgusting." You said before moving the can into the hallway.

"Are you gonna tell me what that was?" Tony asked as you moved back to his bedside.

"I was going to wait until Natasha and Steve got back, but now's going to have to do." You sighed, taking his hand. "I'm pregnant, Tony."

Tony went quiet. He didn't say anything as he stared at you.

"Tony?"

"We're going to need to start planning for a nursery. I'll get FRIDAY to call a designer and have them send over some color swatches. Do you know if it's a girl or a boy? How far along are you?" Tony asked as he grabbed his tablet from the side table. "FRIDAY, can you download baby books for first-time parents? Do you think there are youtube videos we could watch?"

"Tony, I'm barely following a thing you're saying." You informed the man. "Wait, so you're not mad?"

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" Tony titled his head. "We've been talking about this for how long? Have you told Tasha and Steve?"

"I told them just before you got back." You nodded.

"We're going to have a family." Tony smiled largely. "Oh God, we're going to have a family."

"So, Thanos is dead."

"Yes."

"And the stones are destroyed."

"Yes."

That had been playing on a loop in your head since everyone had returned.

Thor had left that night.

Carol had returned to space.

Rhodey had been called back to work.

Rocket, Nebula, and Bruce were sticking around the compound. Bruce would be staying permanently to help the rest of the world, but Nebula and Rocket were only staying temporarily. Once they had reloaded their ship, they would be gone too.

And the four of you, the four of you were leaving now.

"We got so lucky here, Steve," Tony said, putting his arm around Natasha's shoulders and putting the other around your waist. "We all lived. We made it out alive, and now we have a chance. We have a kid on the way, Steve."

"I know that," Steve said, rubbing his hand over his face. "But we can't just leave. The world is in chaos, everyone is panicking, and you want us to go? Go where?"

"I bought a lakehouse a few years back. It was an impulse buy, and I haven't been there since I bought it. Might be a good project for us all." Tony informed everyone.

"So you want us to go and move into a place that isn't even finished yet?" Steve scoffed.

"It's finished. It just needs some repairs."

"Steve, why are you so against this?" You cut in.

"Because we lost! Because Thanos defeated us, and then we lost again because of the stones. Some people lost everyone and everything, and we can't fix it." Steve sighed, looking away from the three of you.

"Steve, we're allowed to live our lives," Natasha said, standing from the bed and pulling him over. "Yes, it is terrible what happened to all those people, but we are allowed to be happy. We are allowed to be happy that we survived, that we have a child on the way."

"Why can't we have this, Steve?" Tony asked him. "We've been fighting for years. And the point was so we didn't have to fight, and this is not the way we thought it would happen, but it's happened. We've fought for years for this." Tony said, taking Steve's hand and putting it on your stomach.

"This could be a blessing in disguise, Stevie." You mentioned intertwining your fingers with his. "This is our reason to take a step back. To focus on ourselves for once, to focus on our little one. We've never been safe here, and we'll never be safe here. Neither will they."

Steve had eventually agreed to the plan. It had taken hours for the four of you to come to an agreement, but you finally did.

You, Tony, and Natasha would fully step back. You were done. There would be no more Avengers activities for the three of you. Steve himself couldn't leave completely.

His conscious wouldn't allow him to in a time he felt was less than desirable.

So Steve would come back to the city once a week and see if Bruce needed help with anything.

But that was it for him.

"Is that everything?" Natasha asked, putting her last bag in the car.

"Should be." You nodded, moving to stand behind her. "Anything else the movers will bring." You added, wrapping your arms around her waist.

"Someone's cuddly this morning," Steve commented as he and Tony entered the garage.

"What do you expect, Steve? You woke her up at five a.m." Tony clucked, pulling on his sunglasses.

"We had to get up at five if we wanted to load up the car and get there at twelve." Steve shook his head. "Speaking of leaving, is everyone ready?"

"I'm always ready, Cap," Tony smirked.

"Let's get going." Natasha nodded.

"Y/N?"

"Let's do this."

Non-reader POV

"Your alpaca ate Steve's laundry today." Y/N casually informed Tony as she prepared lunch.

"He's our alpaca, thank you." Tony corrected her, stealing a piece of cooked chicken. "And why was he using the clothesline anyway? We have a dryer."

"Because sometimes it's nice to do things the old-fashioned way." Y/N smiled. "Can you bring those three in for lunch?"

"Of course," Tony said, pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaving out the back door.

Tony was smiling as he made the short walk from the house to the hideout. When he was within hearing distance, Tony began to clap several times.

"Chow time!" He called. "Hello?" He greeted in a random accent as he took a seat outside the hideout. "Parker J, Sarah M, Stark, you two and your mom want some lunch?"

"Define wunch or be disintegwated," Sarah demanded, exiting in an Iron Man helmet as Parker barrel rolled out and jumped into a superhero pose.

"Woah, Woah, Woah," Tony said, raising his hands up. "You should not be wearing that." He informed his daughter as he gently removed it. "Where did you get it?"

"I let them play with it," Natasha said, crawling out of the hideout. "That was a very well done threat, Sarah." She complimented her daughter, pressing a kiss to her head. "And your roll and jump are coming along well too, Parker." She added, kissing her son's head too.

"Thank you, mama." The twins responded in unison.

"You were watching them, Nat?" He asked. "Then I suppose it's okay. You three thinking 'bout lunch? A handful of crickets and some lettuce, for you three, I think." He teased, causing Parker and Sarah to make a noise of disgust.

"No, daddy!" Parker shrieked, scrunching his nose.

"Yucky!"

"Don't worry, I won't let him poison you," Natasha said, taking Parker into her arms. "You got her?" She asked Tony.

"Always do." Tony nodded, taking Sarah into his arms. "C'mon on you three. Let's not keep your mom waiting."

Tony and Natasha began walking back to the house when they saw Steve's truck pull up. The two were smiling at the blonde's arrival until they saw Scott Lang and Bruce Banner getting out of the car too.

Reader POV

"I can't believe you brought them here, and for that." Tony scoffed.

Scott and Bruce had left an hour ago. The conversation had not gone the way Steve had wanted, with Tony blatantly dismissing the notion of using time travel.

Tony had disappeared into his garage an hour ago, but the second he came back into the house, he and Steve began to argue. You and Natasha had sent the kids upstairs while you sat on the couch and watched the two.

"Tony, Scott came back that's something. That means we have a chance." Steve pressed his husband. "We have a chance to go back and fix this."

"There is no chance. We can't go back. His theory was based on a movie. Why can't you accept that we change the past? Why can't you accept that we lost?" Tony scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the blonde.

"Why can't you believe we have a chance to fix this?"

"Because even if this plan worked, there is a chance that we lose everything." He said, waving his arms around the room. "We lose the last five years, and we lose them. We lose our kids. Do you want that, Steven?"

"Of course not!" Steve exclaimed. "You know I would never do anything to endanger our children!"

"Boys." You snapped, standing from the sofa. "Neither of you are getting anywhere like this. You are solving nothing. Cool off." You demanded, crossing your arms.

"Don't need to ask me twice." Tony shrugged, going back towards the garage.

"Fine." Steve ground out, leaving out the back door.

"You go after Steve, and I'll go after Tony?" Natasha suggested as she stood.

"Deal."

Natasha moved to follow after Tony, and you pursued Steve. You found Steve exactly where you thought he'd be.

"You know we don't need any more firewood, right?" You asked, watching as he began to stack a pile of logs.

"He never listens. To anyone." Steve grumbled, picking up an ax.

"I hope you're not going to take that to him." You joked, moving to stand across from him. "Steve, talk to me."

"This could work, Y/N. We could fix this." Steve sighed. "I don't know why he won't listen."

"Because of them." You gestured to the kids' hideout by the lake. "And because of Peter." You added, causing Steve to go quiet. "We were all close with Peter, but Tony was closest. We both know it hurt him really badly when Peter died, and now he's scared something is going to the twins."

"You know I would never do anything that could hurt them," Steve promised you.

"I know that. Tony knows that, but he's just scared. What happened on Titan hurt him more than he wants to admit in a lot of ways. He just needs time." You promised, taking the ax out of his hands and pulling him into an embrace.

After your talk with Steve, you had brought him inside. The two of you went upstairs and sat with the kids for a while. Parker and Sarah were coloring, but they insisted you and Steve stay.

You could never refuse the kids, and you even allowed them to stay up an hour later before you had to send them to bed.

You and Steve had then moved to your bedroom, where you and he just crawled into bed.

"Can I come in?" Tony asked, standing in the doorway while Natasha strolled right in.

"Of course you can," Steve said, making room for him in the middle as Natasha crawled in behind you.

"We had to put the kids back to bed," Tony said. "Tash gave them both juice pops."

"Liar." Natasha scoffed before you all went quiet.

"I figured it out," Tony murmured after a minute. "Time travel. Tasha saw it."

"That's amazing," Steve said.

"And terrifying." You mentioned.

"We got really lucky. Not a lot of people did, and I can't always help everyone." Tony said, looking at the ceiling.

"Seems like you can here," Steve told him.

"Not if I stop. I can put a pin in it right now and stop." Tony said to him.

"Tony, you've never been able to stop." Natasha shook her head. "If we could've ever gotten you to stop, our lives would be very different now." She added, causing the three of you to chuckle.

"I don't know. Something tells me I should put it in a locked box and drop it to the bottom of the lake."

"Tony, you'd never be able to stop." You said, taking his hand. "None of us would be able to rest if we knew we could've helped."

"We'd never be able to stop," Steve told him.

"We've never been able to stop." Natasha snorted. "It's been five years, and we're still going. We've never been able to stop."

You'd gone back to the compound the next day. Pepper and Happy had volunteered to watch the kids, and after a long goodbye, the four of you had driven back.

There Tony had shown Bruce what he had worked out, and the rest of you worked on a plan. Natasha had gone and brought Clint back, and he had test-driven the machine.

Once Clint had given you the affirmative, all you had to do was find the stones.

Everyone had been assigned a stone and a team. From there, you would travel back in time, collect the stone, and return so Bruce and Tony could add them to a glove Tony had made.

You would be going to Asgaard with Thor and Rocket.

You were all standing on the platform, ready to travel back through space and time.

"Hey," Natasha said, drawing everyone's attention to her. "See you in a minute." She smiled giddily.

And with that, you were gone.

An hour on Asgaard passed quickly. Thor had runoff, and you had had to follow him through the large halls. Thor had found his mother and finally had the reunion and talk he'd needed.

It was when Rocket rushed into the room with the stone, and Thor summoned Mjolnir that the three of you had to go back.

"Did we get 'em all?" Tony asked immediately, clicking off his suit.

"Are you telling me this actually worked?" Rhodey laughed, looking around at everyone.

"Clint," You started. "Where's Nat?" You asked, not seeing your wife.

Everyone went silent as they all turned to face the archer, who was soaking wet. Clint didn't look up as he continued to stare at the ground silently.

"Clint?"

"What are we going to tell the kids?" You asked your husbands. Everyone had moved outside to the lake. No-one had made the decision aloud, but it was just too hard to sit inside.

"What can we tell them?" Tony asked, staring blankly at the water.

"You're acting like she's dead. Why are we acting like she's dead?" Thor asked, storming over. "We have the stones, right? As long as we have the stones, we can bring her back. So stop this shit!" He demanded of the three of you. "That's your wife! Stop it!"

"We can't get her back," Clint said quietly. "It can't be undone." He added, shaking his head sadly.

"You're an earthly being." Thor scoffed. "We're talking about space magick."

"Yeah, look, I know I'm way outside my pay grade here, but she's not here. Is she? It can't be undone. At least that's what the floating spaceman said, but why don't you grab your hammer and go talk to him!" Clint began to yell.

"All of you stop it," Steve ordered, standing from his seat. "Arguing isn't going to solve anything."

"Why aren't you more upset about this, Cap?" Clint asked. "Why aren't any of you reacting? She was your wife, for fucks sake!"

"You don't think we know that!" Tony yelled, rounding on him. "You don't think we know that our wife just died for that fucking stone! Because we do! And now we have to go to a home where she won't be! Where we have to tell our kids why their mama won't be coming home! So don't fucking tell me we aren't feeling this because we are fucking feeling it!"

"All of you stop arguing." You said, standing up. "Natasha died for that stone, and I'll be dammed if we don't finish this for her. We're going in there to end this." You added, moving back towards the compound.

As you walked past Scott, who had been standing at the end quietly, you snapped.

Grabbing him by the collar, you pinned him to the pillar.

"If this does not fucking work and all this was for nothing, I will kill you. If Natasha died for nothing, I will fucking slaughter you." You promised before being pulled away by strong arms.

"We'll meet you inside," Steve said to the others who were beginning to walk past you.

When everyone had walked away, and it was only you, Steve and Tony, the dam broke.

Your legs could no longer support you, and you would have collapsed to the ground in a disheveled heap had Steve not been holding you up.

Tears were pouring down your face as your body wracked with an onslaught of sobs.

Tony's arms wrapped around you and Steve as the three of you stood on the dock, all crying.

"What do we do?" You asked as you began to calm yourself. "What do we do?"

"We finish this," Tony told you. "We need to finish this, so we can stop."

The stones had worked. It hadn't been for nothing.

Bruce had snapped everyone and everything back to life.

But of course, things never could work out for the Avengers.

Just as everyone was beginning to feel hopeful and happy at this achievement, the building had blown.

Thanos had returned.

You and Tony shielded as many as you could when the building blew. But when the time came to fight the Titan, it was only you, Steve, Thor, and Tony.

"Where are the stones?" Steve asked, standing beside you.

"Somewhere under all this," Tony said, staring at the Titan. "All I know is he doesn't have them."

"So we keep it that way." You told them, narrowing your eyes at Thanos.

"You know it's a trap, right?" Thor asked you all.

"Yeah, I don't much care." Tony shrugged.

"Good, just as long as we're all in agreement," Thor said before there was a rumble of thunder. "Let's kill him properly this time."

You were failing. Your asses had been getting kicked when the portals began to open.

And then chaos ensued.

There were so many moments of the battle you were sure you'd never be able to fully remember it all.

The only part that you completely remembered and would haunt you in your dreams for decades to come was when the glove flew from Carol's hands.

Everyone raced for it and rushed to protect it.

Thor and Steve fought Thanos together. Carol fought him alone. You and Steve fought him.

But eventually, you were all thrown to the side and forced to watch as Thanos pulled on the glove.

Carol tried once more to get the glove away from Thanos, only to be blasted to the side by the power stone.

Just as Thanos looked like he was going to snap, Tony rushed forward in a last effort attempt. He grabbed at the glove, but Thanos threw him back.

Tony landed beside you and Steve as Thanos readied to snap.

"I am inevitable," Thanos said, raising his hand. As he was raising his hand, you noticed something.

The stones traveling up Tony's suit.

His skin was already beginning to burn as the power traveled through his body.

He wouldn't survive this on his own.

You shared a look with Steve, who nodded at you.

"I am Iron Man," Tony said as you and Steve rushed forward. You and Steve stood behind him and placed your hands on his exposed skin.

You and Steve let out mirrored gasps of pain as the burning traveled through your bodies as well. You could feel a hand placed on your shoulder and heard more gasps and grunts of pain.

When you opened your eyes, Thor, Clint, and Bruce had all joined your makeshift chain.

"And we're the Avengers," Steve grunted, squeezing Tony's shoulder, who quickly snapped his fingers.

The six of you let out mirroring cries of pain after his snap. Your skin felt as if it were boiling and about to be peeled from your own body. But it was worth it.

It was worth it because Thanos’ army began to disintegrate.

And when Thanos sat down and he turned to dust, there was no greater feeling.,

"Tony?" Steve asked, causing your head to snap to the side. Tony was kneeling against a large piece of debris in obvious pain.

"Tony." You gasped, rushing towards him. "Oh God, Tony."

"It's not that bad, is it?" Tony asked you. "Do I still have my rugged good looks?"

"You could never lose them." Steve laughed, gently brushing his hand across Tony's burnt cheek.

"Tony, do you need to stop?" You asked, dreading the answer. "Because if you need to, you can stop now."

"Never," Tony grunted, sitting upright. "Where's Strange? I think I'm going to need a doctor."

The three of you were in a Wakandian hospital. Strange with some help from Shuri had been able to save Tony’s life. He had lost his arm to the gauntlet and that side of his body would forever be scarred. All six of you would forever bare the scars from this fight.

The six of you had been scarred by the power of the stones but Tony’s had been the worst.

The three of you had been in this hospital room for three days now and today was the day Pepper would be bringing the kids to visit.

“How do we tell them about Nat?” Steve asked.

“I have no idea.” You shook your head. “I don’t think there’s any version that’s going to be easy for them to hear.”

“What time did Pep say they were coming?” Tony asked.

“Any time now.” You said after glancing at the clock.

“There’s no time to plan anything is there?” Tony shook his head. We’ll just have to wing it.”

“There’s a part of me that just wants to run away.” You admitted. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“You just faced down Thanos with not a hint of fear, and two five-year-olds are scaring you?” Steve asked with a slight chuckle.

“Don’t act as if they’ve never scared you.” You said, lightly hitting him on the arm. “We all remember the juice pops incident.”

Before Steve could retort, there was a light knocking on the door. You all turned your heads to see Pepper standing at the door.

“Where are the kids?” Tony asked immediately.

“They’re right here.” Pepper was quick to reassure the three of you. “They’re both safe and ready to see you, but they have a surprise for you.”

“They better not have brought Gerald. I still haven’t forgiven him for the laundry.” Steve grumbled as Pepper stepped to the side. And in walked the kids. Both Parker and Sarah were smiling brightly as they pulled Natasha in.

“Nat?”

“Tasha?”

“Natty?”

The kids would tease you for years about the three of you crying when you saw Nat in that hospital room. They would tease you for years until they were old enough to be told the truth of what had happened.

Natasha had no idea what happened to her. She remembered falling and she remembered waking up at the remains of the compound where Strange had found her.

But it was her. It was 100% your Natasha and the three of you couldn't be more thankful that she was alive and with you once more.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Tony asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Just can’t get over how lucky we were.” You murmured, watching Steve and Natasha play with Parker and Sarah in the yard. “We got really lucky with this, Tony.”

“I know.”

“We can’t push our luck when it comes to this family. We thought we lost Nat, and we would’ve lost you if you had snapped alone. I don’t know if we’ll ever be this lucky again.” You said, looking up at your husband.

“We probably won’t, but it doesn’t matter, because we’re done. We’re finally stopping. All of us.” He promised, leaning down to connect your lips.

“Gross!” A small voice shrieked, causing you and Tony to pull apart. You saw your husband and wife staring at you both adoringly as the twins watched you with disgusted faces.

“Don’t you like kisses anymore sweethearts?” You teased, pulling out of Tony’s hold and stepping onto the porch. “You two better run, because I think I want to kiss my babies.”

“I think they both are in need of cuddles and kisses.” Tony agreed and the two of you raced towards your family.

The twins shrieked as they ran from the four of you, wanting to avoid capture. But of course they could never escape the four of you.

The day ended with you all layig on the lawn, staring at the sun, and enjoying the embrace of one another.

This is what you fought for. This is why you all fought to stop.

And it was so worth it.

Remember all Taglists are open as are requests.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @summergeezburr @buckybarton03 @sunshinepower17 @bbybarness @natasharomanoffismywife @keenmarvellover @bbybarness @storiesbystarlight @buckybarnesplumwhore @bromieeeomieee @marvelmenarebeautiful @nikishadow @pauloonig @abyssiniapleasant @beautybyfire @officialmarvelbaby

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traincat · 4 years

Note

Who do you think would be a better fit for Johnny, a young William Shatner or Chris Pine?

Oh tough one, because I think young Bill Shatner was, on a physical level, like an obnoxiously beautiful man. Like have you seen the Twilight Zone episode he’s in where he and his wife get stuck in that town? The one with the fortune telling machine? I once spent the day after Halloween lying hungover on my friend’s couch with my other friend saying, “He’s so beautiful,” over and over as we watched that and Star Trek. I mean, that caboose alone. I wish there was an emoji for “gesturing with your hands to convey the attractiveness of a celebrity’s ass 60 years ago” because that’s what I’m in need of right now.

Unfortunately, the caboose alone I feel rules him out as Johnny, because I just don’t think Johnny’s butt is all that great. I have to speak my truth here on tumblr dot com. Also, I think I associate this pic of young Bill Shatner and his Twilight Zone costar solely with Flash Thompson and Betty Brant:

Where was the ‘60s Spider-Man TV series so I could enjoy it in the present day.

So I’m going with Chris Pine partly because I feel he’s like, very talented at getting whumped in movies he’s in, which is the kind of energy we should be bringing to Johnny on the silver screen -- what is the Fantastic Four fic LIKE in the alternate universe where Chris Pine got cast instead of Chris Evans -- and he looks pretty when he’s beaten up which is like. I’m not complaining. But also I would like to point to exhibit B, colloquially known on the internet as the “desert hooker photoshoot”:

Look, the outfit is not very Johnny, because it’s nowhere near trashy enough. Throw in a patterned neckerchief and something fringed and knee high red boots and some flame sunglasses and maybe we’d get there. But the energy? Leaning on a car in the middle of nowhere like come here often? Looking like he’s an amateur model shooting an ad for a brand of cologne that is approximately 75% diesel fuel? Like he “borrowed” his sister’s JC Penney card to purchase that sleeveless shirt? Pure Jonathan Spencer Lowell Storm.

#johnny storm #traincat talks comics #*replies #things i promise i didn't send myself

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exophile3d · 4 years

Text

Old Rip

The poll I did last week came up with ‘gargoyle’ for my next Monster BF ficlet, so here’s Part 1. It was only going to be a shortie, but I got carried away!

Male Gargoyle, Female Reader.

Part 1 (SFW)

“Morning, Rip!” You wave cheerily at the snarling, stone-faced monstrosity that guards the entrance to the grand drive. It doesn’t respond. It’s never been much of a talker. It’s a good listener though and it must surely know more about you than anyone in the world. It’s almost a shame it’s a series of inanimate lumps of stone.

Your feet crunch pleasingly on the wet gravel as you make your way up to the house to start your day’s work. Ravenscourt has been your home since you were five years old: your grandparents took you in after the loss of your immediate family, and now only you granddad, ‘Grumpa’ remains. The main house dates back to the seventeenth century, although there has been a building on the site since Roman times, if Grumpa’s fireside stories are to be believed. History is rooted here, and nowhere more so than the archway next to the gatehouse where your family has lived as stewards to the Bryant estate for over two hundred years. It is an imposing entryway, perhaps built with the intent of making anyone who enters think twice about crossing the Bryants, and above it, for added intimidation waits a demonic stone figure that Grumpa refers to as ‘Old Rip’. Its head, hands and wings alone are visible, placed by some unknown architect so that it looks for all the world like it is emerging from the ancient stone to punish trespassers. As a child, it frightened you. As you grew, you came to see it for the impressive architectural feat it is, and now, you harbour a certain fondness for it, and see it as a co-worker that assists you in caring for the estate.

“Getting the gutters cleaned today, so don’t frighten the workmen when they get here,” you tease.

It’s part of your morning routine. You always greet Old Rip as you go about your chores, telling it what you plan to do, what’s needed around the estate and wishing it a pleasant day. It never answers, of course, but you’d feel rude ignoring it. It’s part of the family. You often climb the service stairs at the back of the archway, an old, worn stone spiral that leads to a treacherous, narrow ledge along the back of the entryway. There’s a spot just to the left of Old Rip’s face with a flat surface that’s perfect for sitting, dangling your legs, and looking out over the tree-lined drive. With no companions your own age nearby, you’ve been chattering away to Old Rip for years from your precarious perch atop the archway. You can tell him anything, and in all the times you’ve shared your secrets with him, he’s never once been judgmental.

“And the new owner’s coming later, so play nice! I’ll be back at lunchtime to share my sarnies with you,” you call over your shoulder as you trudge along the driveway. “Ham and mustard - your favourite.”

Neither you, your stalwart Grumpa nor the demonic stone guard could have prevented the passing of old man Bryant. The last of his line, he left no will, and with no family to argue over the house and land, Ravenscourt has been put up for sale. You’ve agreed with the lawyers that you and your grandfather can stay on site until the new owners take over, and they will decide whether they want you to stay on: it will be up to you to argue your case. Over the weeks, prospective buyers have come and gone. Some plan to restore the house, some to turn it into an artists’ retreat or a wellness centre, and yet others to repurpose it into luxury apartments. You like none of the potential newcomers as much as you did old man Bryant, but you accept that times must change, and you’ve managed to keep a civil tongue around them all, not knowing which you might need to talk into letting you and Grumpa stay.

In the end, it was a city banker who forked out the cool nine mill, and today will mark his first visit to Ravenscourt since he bought it. He turns up in a DB9 and a sharp suit and immediately starts making plans to build this, tear down that, split this room into three, put in hot tubs and jacuzzis, oh, and last but not least, pull down the ugly old gateway and put in mock-Grecian columns that would suit the seventeenth-century charm of Ravenscourt about as well as a disco-ball.

“Pretty sure that gateway is protected,” you argue as he takes off his shades and saunters over to you. “Grade II listed.”

“You’re the stewards, aren’t you? I heard you came with the gatehouse,” he drawls. There’s something both possessive and condescending about the way he phrases that comment and you shudder, but he does at least seem to have forgotten about the archway. Good. “Any decent restaurants around here?”

You pause before replying. There are some fantastic family-run eateries in the village a mile down the road, but not only do you not want to inflict this city boy on them, but you suspect he’s looking for something rather less ‘rustic home-cooked goodness’ and rather more ‘pretentious haute-cuisine with Michelin stars’. “There are some nice restaurants in Oxford city centre,” you inform him.

“Great. I’ll send a car for you around six thirty,” he says, sliding his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“You’ll- what?” you ask.

“We need to talk about your options,” he says, with a tilt of his head towards the little stone cottage you’ve come to think of as home. “I thought we could do that over dinner tonight. My days are spoken for.”

You shrivel inside. The thought of spending a couple of hours in his company turns your stomach, but if you want to ensure security for you and your grandfather, you’re going to have to grin and bear it. “Six thirty,” you confirm as he gets into his Aston and revs the engine unnecessarily.

He stops the car under the archway and leans his arm on the open window. “And wear something pretty,” he says, looking at you over the top of his expensive-looking shades and winking. You feel physically sick. You can see where this is going, but if this banker decides he doesn’t need you living in the gatehouse and looking after the property any more, then you and Grumpa are out on the street with nowhere to go. You manage a smile and he leans a little further out, his smile widening as he opens his mouth to make a further suggestion, when a chunk of masonry the size of a breezeblock detaches from the archway and lands neatly in the centre of his pristine Arizona bronze DB9 bonnet.

You manage to keep a straight face until he has stopped swearing, removed the block, ascertained there is no damage to the engine, and driven off in a huff. You walk to the end of the drive to see him off, then turn back and head for the house to get dinner ready for Grumpa. You pause under the archway, noting that the masonry detached from just under Old Rip’s hand and you shake your head and tut at the lifeless stone effigy.

“That wasn’t very friendly, Rip!” The wind blows your hair across your face and a family of ravens wheels overhead, cawing loudly. Just for a moment, with strands of hair undulating in your field of vision, it almost looks as though Old Rip is laughing. You scowl as you pull the hair from your eyes. “You better be nice to him, or he’ll tear you down and replace you with a pair of concrete columns!”

Part 2

#monster x human #monster love #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster lover #fantasy #gargoyle #gargoyle boyfriend #romance #adventure #angst

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