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psychopersonified · 4 years

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Who’s the brunette?

Part of the prequel series to "Are we ever going to talk about this?".

I'll post little snippets of their 'not dating' days in this series. Little events that draw them together and the intimacy they share in plain sight.

This particular snippet happens Monday after the Friday party in “Keep Calm. Dance On.”

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“Oh 007, did you hear? There is the most unusual rumour going around. Seems someone thought they saw the Quartermaster leave last week’s party in an Aston Martin DB5? You wouldn’t know anything about this would you?”

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Monday 8:30am - SIS HQ.

The lift doors open at Parking Level 2 to admit a well rested and impeccably put together Eve Moneypenny.

“Moneypenny, morning. How are you?” Bond says in greeting.

“007. You’re early,” she skips the greeting, her tone a little frosty as she gets into the lift and turns around to face the doors.

“So it’s 007 today? May I know what I’ve done to deserve it this time?” Bond knows enough about women to know that it is always his fault.

“IF you’re interested… someone I call a friend left me all alone at a party last Friday.”

Bond freezes... ah that. He’d completely forgotten. He drops his head in embarrassment. After all, It was Eve who convinced him to attend. A decision he was incredibly grateful to her for. He recalls the night and how he spent it in the company of a leggy brunette.

“Ah… I must apologise. That was terribly ungentlemanly of me,” pause, he needs to get himself out of the doghouse, “How can I make it up to you?”

“Well, for starters, you might tell me who it was that caught your attention. So much so that you left a good friend high and dry?” She’s laying it on a bit thick, but where would the fun be otherwise?

“What makes you think it was a someone? It was an office party after all.”

Eve leans over to him, a hand reaching up towards Bond’s shoulder. He’s still wearing his outer coat, having come straight up from the parking garage. Her hand comes back with a strand of hair between her fingers; she holds it up in front of his eyes - it clearly isn’t his.

“Who’s the brunette?” She teases him.

Bond schools his face into a neutral expression looking straight ahead. Bloody spies and their deductive skills.

-Ding!- The lift announces its next stop on Ground Level. The lift doors open, revealing a small group of people waiting for the lift - including Q, R and Mark at the front.

Everyone squeezes in. The lift is packed tight, yet no one wants to take the second lift; a result of the lifts being notoriously slow during rush hours.

There is a chorus of polite greetings:-

“Good Morning.”

“Excuse me.”

“Pardon. Which level?”

“How’s it going?”

“Level 7 please. Thanks.”

There is some awkward shifting as the occupants arrange themselves according to who is going to alight first.

Q ends up standing in front of Bond, back to him.

Eve has a mischievous glint in her eyes. She still has the strand of hair between her fingers. So she lifts it and holds it up to the back of Q’s head. The colour and length is an exact match.

Bond slides his eyes towards her. He wants to smack her hand away. They are in a packed lift for Christssake. Eve’s little action catches R’s attention and she tilts her head thoughtfully at them. Eve shots her a meaningful look.

The lift dings their arrival at Level 3. Five people alight except for Bond, Eve, Q, R and Mark - they are headed for the Executive floor on Level 12 to their respective meetings.

The remaining occupants sigh in relief. They start moving apart to give each other more personal space. But before they can do that, six more SIS employees enter - making it worse than before.

“Hold the lift please! Thanks!” A -seventh- person calls just as the doors start to close. A breathless Accounts Department employee squeezes her way in while struggling to carry two cardboard boxes of files. Everyone has to politely shuffle closer to the back to make room.

Bond is forced all the way to the back corner of the lift, the hand rails digging into his back. Eve has to move to the other corner. He can’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance. Why couldn’t M see him later in the morning?

This leaves the Quartermaster on his side of the lift. Q also has to shift back but accidentally steps on Bond’s expensive Italian leather shoe and jolts away too quickly in apology - nearly losing his balance.

“Oh! My apologies—,” It comes out as a rushed whisper.

“—you’re alright.” Bond places his hands on Q’s waist to steady him. Q is wearing only a cardigan made from the softest cashmere over his dress shirt and tie. Bond can feel the warmth of the flesh underneath. He uses the slightest pressure to pull Q backwards into his personal space, so that the others can move in.

Q’s right shoulder blade makes contact with one of Bond’s pectorals. But the younger man makes no protest, on the contrary - unless Bond’s imagining it, he feels Q lean further into the touch. They are pressed close in the compact space, he can smell the fresh scent of Q’s soap and shampoo.

Maybe there is some good that comes from being in crowded lifts. The rest of the ride up feels like an eternity spent in awkward silence for everyone inside with the only distraction being the soft jazzy elevator music. It feels like the lift made a stop at every floor.

Bond does not remove his hands until the lift arrives at Level 12 where M’s office is located. They all alight. Bond and Moneypenny head directly to M’s office. The techies movie off to the conference room for the monthly joint Ops meeting.

Eve waits until she is alone with Bond just outside of her office to ask:

Busted. Yes, so he did spend the party stuck to the Quartermaster’s side. And yes, he did steal Q out for a post revelry kebab supper - which may have included a long stroll along the river after. Finally yes, he did make sure Q got to his doorstep at the end of the very late night/early morning, but only out of concern for his safety.

Bond considers his options.“Name your price.”

“What exactly are you implying? I’m offended that you’d think I’d stoop to blackmail—“ Eve places a hand over her heart in mock indignation, “—but I suppose since you do owe me an apology…” She bats her eyelashes at him.

She mulls over it, “There is this restaurant in Soho, it’s booked out for months. But I’m sure you have your ways around it. My family is in town next week.”

She unlocks the door to the office, letting them both in. “I’ll text you the details.”

“Consider it done.” Bond assures her courtly, he really was sorry about ditching her on Friday. Nevertheless, he is surprised at how easy he is being let off on this - when you consider how protective Eve can be over their Chief Boffin.

“Aren’t you going to warn me off?” Bond wonders aloud.

“Do I have to? It is still just a harmless game... isn’t it?” She searches his face for any indication otherwise, though she reckons she knows the answer even if Bond himself doesn’t know it yet.

He holds the door open for her. M arrives behind them cutting off any answer he might have.

———

Friday 4:30pm - SIS HQ

If Bond has to hear about North Korea again in the next 3 months, it would still be too soon. He had just finished an all day strategy conference with Mallory, 009 and their Korean Station Chief about how MI6 was going to extract their operatives embedded in the regime in the face of the recent crackdowns.

It is not that he’s being insensitive, the meeting is critical and he had played his part in contributing to the discussion and assessing the tactics available to them. It is just that both M and 009 have a tendency to prattle on (his opinion) and discuss ad nauseam every detail, while 007 prefers to… well, get on with it.

Unsurprisingly the meeting ran overtime and Bond is feeling peckish. And when his blood sugar runs low, his patience runs thin. At least this time, he had managed to behave long enough for the meeting to end.

It takes him 20 excruciating minutes to reach Q-Branch. It is Friday afternoon, and like any other civil service, MI6 lobbies and lifts are a hive of activity with most employees trying to wrap up for an early weekend.

Most of the time was spent waiting for the lifts, and then riding the lift, then letting people in and then out the lift - there has to be a better system to organise the lift service.

Bond is inordinately relived when he finally arrives at Q-Branch all the way in the basement floors of the building.

Once he’s through the doors, he makes a beeline for Q’s office nook and Q’s desk. The man is not around, but Bond helps himself with familiar ease. Bond pulls open the second drawer and retrieves a bar of protein snack from the stash in the drawer.

He is almost finished with the bar when he realises that Q has not returned to his desk and is nowhere to be seen on the work floor. Curious, he makes a circuit of the floor trying to be surreptitious.

Jamila catches him ‘not’ looking and puts him out of his misery. “He’s downstairs, in the Firearms Lab with 003,” she doesn’t bother asking if he is there on official business.

Bond tries not to look like he’s been caught, but manners win out and he attempts a casual, “...Thank you.” - his feet starting to carry him towards the main doors.

“Badge!” Jamila calls out to remind him.

Bond backtracks smoothly, heading to Q’s desk and that second drawer to grab his blasted employee ID badge that he keeps in there. He can get away without it on the upper floors, but the Lower Ground labs contain live ammunition and thus require extra authentication for security.

—-

The labs are a study of industrial utilitarian design - an amalgamation of concrete, steel and glass.

003 is easy to locate. Her stunning if scant evening gown incongruous in the surroundings. Bond can only see her from the back. She has one stiletto heel resting on something in front of her.

As he draws nearer, his viewing angle changes and he can see what or more accurately who her heel is propped up on.

Their Quartermaster is on one knee in front of her. The toes of her shoe resting on his thigh. The side slit of the dress is cut high and hides very little.

Q is adjusting her thigh holster, a specially designed and fabricated skin-coloured thing worn fairly high on the leg to make it less obvious. To improve stability, the holster is anchored with clips that connect directly to 003’s one piece undergarment.

“Oh Q, the material is perfect - incredibly comfortable, but the fit needs to be tighter.” She provides him with feedback. When she looks up, she catches Bond in the reflection of a nearby glass wall - watching them with wide blue eyes.

“Yes, right. There is an adjustment strap on the inside so all you have to do is… “ Q pulls at the tab - careful not to touch her skin in so much as he can, seeing that the tab is located near the inner thigh. 003 gathers her skirt up higher to allow him better access.

From Bond’s angle, their combined actions are grossly inappropriate.

“…pull this tab to adjust for the required fit. We’ve gone with the new hook-and-loop fasteners so they shouldn’t catch on most fabrics, even delicate ones. This should allow you to use it with any frock of your choice.“ Q explains still oblivious.

“How thoughtful of you Q. I don’t suppose you could make them in… lace trim?” She says to the top Q’s head, smirking into the refection, raising a perfect eyebrow at 007.

“We can make them in any colour or trim you’d like 003. Just let us know what you need. Please allow for a few weeks though, as the elastane base material is specially sent for.” Q looks up at her with a shy smile.

“Oh you spoil us Q. We never had such personalised service until you came along.” She coos down at him while she ran one hand lightly through his hair combing back his fringe while the other formed a hooked finger under his chin to tip his head up to her.

003 is wearing a self-satisfied grin. What a picture they made! Her deft manoeuvring had Q looking like the very picture of a besotted young man attending submissively to his object of infatuation.

She sees 007 in the refection clenching and unclenching his hands. Whoops…. she knows 007, having worked him with him over the years. They get along fine. But this new development is interesting. What is his problem anyway?

Perhaps it would be best to end this here for now.

“Well, thank you Quartermaster. I’d best not take up anymore of your time. Will it be alright if I stayed here to have a chat with 007?” She dismisses him politely, adjusting her skirt and removing her heel from his thigh.

“Oh, yes of course. Sure.” Q stands, brushing his trousers.

“Ah 007, I didn’t see you there—,” the sentence is cut off when Q catches Bond’s blazing blue eyes and dark expression and is confused, “D… did you need anything?”

Bond schools his expression back to neutral. “Not at the moment. Just need a quick word with 003. Meet you back upstairs?”

Q collects his tablet and nods his leave to both of the agents.

When Q is out the doors, 007 closes the distance between him and 003 - who to her credit is not cowed. Instead of stepping back, she steps sideways and the two double-0 agents circle each other for a few moments.

“Oh don’t look at me like that!” she finally says, exasperated with his posturing, also she was getting dizzy with the circling. They were friends, well as much as trained assassins with trust issues can be.

“You—,” she points a finger at him, “—need to learn how to share. You monopolised all of his time last Friday night! After that delicious display of his, I’d like to take him out clubbing and see what else is hiding under that cardigan wearing persona.” She confesses, but still annoyed at 007.

She makes a squeezing motion with her hands, a gesture usually reserved for when talking about cute animals, “He’s so adorable I want to stuff him in my pocket--,” then she indicates to her skin tight dress, “—if I had any.”

Bond is not moved. He feels like they are siblings negotiating playtime allotment with a favourite pet or toy. Well, he was an only child and he had never learnt to share.

“The rest of us would like to play too you know. Alec says—,” 003 nearly throws a tantrum.

“He’s not a plaything!” Bond’s vehement whisper surprises even him. Where did that come from?

“Pot. Kettle…” Comes her practiced reply. But something in his tone catches up to her. She studies him closer. Bond appears to be grappling internally with his own words.

-Oh.My.God- Can it be? 003 abandons her petulant tantrum. The adult slipping back into place.

“You’re not… playing anymore are you?” the question comes from a place of genuine interest.

No answer. Just a sullen 007 staring at his feet, hands in his pockets.

“Huh! Of all the people you choose...” She shakes her head at him.

Well then, there is only one thing left to do. She comes right up close to him, cups his face in her perfectly manicured hands, forcing him to look at her - then says with as much sisterly fondness as she could muster:-

“Don’t. Cock. It. Up.”

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Note: If you liked this fic, there’s more like it on the blog. Including my take on a kidnapped Q. Enjoy!

#00q #00q fanfiction #00q fic #Q #Quartermaster

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sarcasm-and-references · 4 years

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hi! here is the spotify link for my Trollhunters playlist in which i chose one song to represent each episode, listed in order:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7mdB5Vss7D0jAAS2S1sbPP?si=RGdbyHgvQY6PUCM_djbRYQ

full list of why i chose each song + some disclaimers under the cut (very long)

first off: it’s named pretty inconspicuously because this is my personal spotify and i didn’t want my friends figuring out what it was

okay so i’m a musician and i love the use of music in media, so i will often draw connections between how i feel listening to a song and how i feel watching a film or tv show

as a result, i’ve compiled a playlist and an explanation for 52 songs (one to represent each episode of Trollhunters). it’s in order but you could also just shuffle it for a generalized Trollhunters vibes playlist

one final thing: this is by no means a definitive list, and it is heavily biassed because of my taste in music which means it is mostly alternative or indie pop and rock music (there are also a few explicit songs, just a warning) so just to put that out there

alright, here is the complete list of why i chose each song:

Becoming: Part 1

Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra

Nothing too specific, it just gives off the vibes of morning, a small town, and the start of something big. I think the lyrics work a bit too but the sound and energy are perfect in terms of cinematic elements so full send on this one.

Becoming: Part 2

Could Have Been Me - The Struts

Chances are, you know this song if you’re a tik tok cosplayer or have seen any video of that sort. This choice felt right in terms of both lyrics and the music itself. It’s very hopeful and it talks about wanting to make something of oneself. I tend to associate this song with Percy Jackson and there are some parallels there. Kind of a modern-day heroism feel, which is definitely fitting for this show and the episode specifically.

Wherefore Art Thou, Trollhunter?

I Wanna Get Better - Bleachers

This episode seems to me like more basic exposition and is just setting up the first arc of the story, so I chose this song not completely for the lyrics (although I do think they fit for Jlaire in terms of Claire and Jim’s interaction but I’m trying my best not to focus too much on them). I think the sound and energy is pretty good for this song, and if you strip the song to its most simple interpretation, it’s clearly about wanting to improve.

Gnome Your Enemy

I’m Just a Kid - Simple Plan

Ha-okay this choice is a bit of a joke because of the angst but honestly I do think it fits for the gang’s first mission and Jim’s attitude and reluctance towards trollhunting in general.

Waka Chaka!

Killer Queen - Queen

Yeah this is mainly for Nomura and her introduction. Not much thought went into this choice but as I make this list I’m finding that episodes that I choose a song for often end up with a song for a character that’s featured (dw there’s not too many of these).

Win Lose or Draal

Centuries - Fall Out Boy

Jim’s first real fight; showing off everything he’s learned so far. Being a moral person and not ‘finishing the fight.’ A hero in the making.

To Catch a Changeling

Brother - Kodaline

So I think this song could definitely be used to represent Jim and Toby, but I wanted to take the chance to choose a song for the protective trust that Draal starts to build with Jim. Obviously this episode is much more than that, but I see that scene where Jim is reflecting Draal’s fighting moves as the unofficial start of their brother-like relationship. So yes, I did pick a song because of one small scene.

Adventures in Trollsitting

Hey There Delilah - Plain White T’s

This one is a bit of a joke but Jim is definitely simping for Claire in this episode by volunteering to babysit so I have chosen a song to fit with that. (Also, wOw this explanation makes it VERY clear I’m gen z).

Bittersweet Sixteen

100 Bad Days - AJR

Lyrics specifically fit here. Yes, a lot goes wrong in this episode, but the relationships are strengthened (Blinky and Jim) and it’s sweet in the end.

Young Atlas

Number One Fan - MUNA

Not gonna lie, I wanted to sucker punch Jim in this episode. This song choice is kind of satirical but really just for being confident and self-assured. Lyrics fit for the chorus and parts of the verses.

Recipe for Disaster

Carmen, Suite No. 2: VIII. Habanera - Saint Petersburg Orchestra of the State Hermitage Museum Camerata

Wow that’s a long title. Okay this is the only choice that has no lyrics/is classical on this list, but that is mainly because I chose it specifically for Strickler because he seems like a classical music kind of guy (maybe it’s a changeling thing @ Nomura). Also this is a pretty recognizable piece (in my opinion) and I also think it would sound pretty epic and would make for some great cinematic effects if played during the fight in this episode.

Claire and Present Danger

Seashore - The Regrettes

Originally, I was going to go with a song that fit the heroism arc in this episode but! I focus on Jim a lot in this playlist. Instead, this song is a choice for Claire and where she is in the story (finally being brought into the action). I’ve always loved her for being feminine and badass at the same time, so this song is somewhat a choice as an anthem for her (especially her being so headstrong and determined).

The Battle of Two Bridges

Young Volcanoes - Fall Out Boy

Teenage recklessness and power. Reminds me of adventures and young adulthood, plus the whole modern heroism again. I think this song also correlated with a high-stakes battle which is exactly what happened in this episode. Plus? How sick would it be if there was a fight and the strikes and dodges were coordinated with the beats in this song??

Return of the Trollhunter

Kids in America - Kim Wilde

More for the vibes in the beginning when it feels like it really should have been a new season. I think the lyrics fit pretty well here too. Fits with Claire joining the team and the heroes starting to come into their own.

Mudslinging

What’s Up Danger (With Black Caviar) - Blackway

This one was fully for Angor Rot and his first real introduction. He’s presented as an obvious and looming threat. While this song’s lyrics fit more with the more badass side of modern heroism (connects to Jim showing off his skills), I think the sounds fit with Angor and how he has begun to raise the stakes. This also may be a result of me associating this song with teenage heroes since it’s from the Spider-man: Into the Spider-verse soundtrack.

Roaming Fees May Apply

Welcome to the Jungle - Guns ‘n’ Roses

What can I say? The gang finds themselves in an unpredictable situation. It’s an adventurous episode to say the least. I feel like this song is used for action movies somewhat often so I’m throwing it in for this episode.

Blinky’s Day Out

Hooked on a Feeling - Blue Swede

This is almost completely a comedic choice. Barely any thought went into this one, and the lyrics have nothing to do with it. It is purely for the good vibes that always accompany this song because I feel like Blinky’s time on the surface was (at least initially) a “good vibes” situation. The apparent simplicity of being human can feel that way.

The Shattered King

Never Gonna Give You Up - Rick Astley

I’m using this episode to focus on Toby. Although there’s not much character development in this episode specifically, I think Toby deserves a better arc and I do want to give him at least one song. While I think there’s a lot more to Toby than he lets on or that which is shown in the show, he’s often used for humor and is basically the stereotypical funloving best friend. He seems like he’d enjoy a feel-good, upbeat, “classic” song, and there’s silly dancing in this episode so danceable song! (Also if the show were more accurate to today’s teens, I wholeheartedly believe Toby would be a meme-lover).

Airheads

Little League - Conan Gray

I absolutely love the simplicity of this episode, even if it’s just filler, but I have indeed found a way to make it angsty. This song choice is fully for the lyrics (though the sound isn’t completely wrong for the feel of the episode). I think this show gets progressively more emotional throughout the seasons, and, at this point, the kids are competing for Spring Fling nominations while Toby and Claire deal with a ridiculous problem. Something about this episode just seems to represent naiveté and this song talks about longing to return to childhood and innocence.

Where Is My Mind?

Hotel California - Eagles

Seeing as the obvious choice might have been Where Is My Mind? by Pixies, I tried to branch out here. This episode is honestly eerie because the characters face their worst fears but never discuss them or understand why/how it happened. For me, the vibe was a sort of mellow rock song and a dreamlike state. Thus: Hotel California. If I think about it enough, the lyrics work because of the sort of ominous false sense of security that I imagine using this song for in a story. Ultimately though, it’s the sound and energy.

Party Monster

Candy - Robbie Williams

This is solely for the vibes just because it feels like a party song to me for some reason. Sorry I didn’t put much thought into this one. Also though? This song and its lyrics low-key remind me of Mary and this is one of the few episodes in which she was featured somewhat prominently.

It’s About Time

Blitzkrieg Bop - The Ramones

Definitely not for the lyrics, I think it’s just the sound and the energy almost completely for this song. For me, it just seems very high-energy and almost tense because of a fast heartbeat? I can just imagine this song playing as Jim is racing through town as quickly as possible. It’s a bit stress-inducing, honestly.

Wingmen

Victorious - Panic! At the Disco

High energy, but this is more of a simplistic choice to go with the fight scene and the progress we see from Jim as far as his training goes.

Angor Management

Carry On Wayward Son - Kansas

I chose this song as a representation of the dynamic that we see starting to form between Strickler and Jim. They’ve become unlikely teammates and Strickler is obviously a guiding figure for Jim, but I wouldn’t necessarily say he’s a father figure yet? Lyrics play into this choice a lot.

A Night to Remember

Just Like A Movie - Wallows

Specific to the dance scene. Nighttime lit up by emotion; bright kind of vibe. I thought about some other songs like Don’t Take the Money and Reckless Love (both by Bleachers), also Electric Love by BØRNS (didn’t choose that because I don’t really want to support BØRNS but I won’t get too into that). Ultimately, I think this one works best both with lyrics and overall sound. I’m a sucker for Jlaire so I had to focus on this part of the episode and how cute it was (sorry (not really tho)).

Something Rotten This Way Comes

Lessons - mxmtoon

Thinking about what you’ve learned and how to move forward in the present. Correlates more with where the story is at in this season finale, not as much with what exactly happens in the episode. Definitely a choice made for the lyrics (although Jim probably should have listened to the part about patience).

Escape from the Darklands

Hero - Weezer

Any upbeat, modern rock music for me always seems to fit the vibe for teenage heroes. I think the lyrics hit the nail on the head for characterizing Jim in this episode. He feels a huge responsibility and fear, and isn’t sure he can live up to it. Also I love him but going into the darklands alone? Not the smartest.

Skullcrusher

Off She Goes - Bad Suns

For Claire and her development in this episode. The emotion she has to use and how she pushes herself. The vibes are there but the lyrics in the chorus are what mainly influenced this choice.

Grand Theft Otto

Weightless - All Time Low

Not too sure about the sound with this one but I like the lyrics here for the dual plot of the episode. I think the whole thing with having a hard time and struggling but also not giving up hope resonates pretty generally with the trollhunters, but also specifically with Jim in the darklands and Claire and Toby (& Blinky) getting stuff done because they’re determined to save both Jim and AAARRRGGHH!!!

KanjigAAARRRGGHH!!!

Highway to Hell - AC/DC

This one is kind of a joke but kind of not. Seeing as this is the episode that the rest of the group goes to the *Darklands* to save Jim, I think the lyrics unironically fit in a humorous way. Can’t go wrong with classic rock either. (Can you tell I was struggling with this one?)

Homecoming

Life on Mars? - David Bowie

Okay, this is kind of just an excuse for me to throw this song in here, but it reminds me of a ragtag team of heroes who don’t necessarily win but live to see another day (probably because of this song’s feature in American Horror Story: Freak Show). Lyrics not so much throughout the song as a whole, but the vibes are definitely there in the chorus. A joke song that came to mind for this (for obvious reasons) was My Boyfriend’s Back by The Angels.

Hiss Hiss, Bang Bang

Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year - Fall Out Boy

Mostly for the vibes, correlates with the energy that Jim has after finally coming home. Also, lyrics fit pretty well here.

Hero with a Thousand Faces

Istanbul (Not Constantinople) - They Might Be Giants

I was searching for so long to find a song to match the chaos and hilarity of this episode (idc if it’s filler I love it so much), and realized only something just as obscure would work. The song and the episode have virtually nothing in common other than they are both ridiculous and I love them for it (sorry if that’s disappointing but hey). Also ever since I saw The Umbrella Academy use this for a fight scene I’ve loved the idea of this song in shows/movies with heroes so maybe this could fit with when Jim fought Hunter!Jim.

Just Add Water

The Kids Aren’t Alright - Fall Out Boy

I love this episode for the irony of the flour baby assignment. The main group is just dealing with so much more than health class homework at this point and yet they still take it so seriously. I chose this song partially because I really wanted to fit it in this list somewhere but I also think it correlates with the characters being so heavily involved in this dangerous, heroic life and still flying mostly under the radar in their small town. They’re going through a lot yet no one seems to notice.

Creepslayerz

I Wanna Be Sedated - The Ramones

This one is for the eagerness that Eli and Steve have to fight the ‘bad guys.’ They’re excited to form a team and I think their dynamic works with this. Also I love their dynamic so much we need more of them.

The Reckless Club

I Was a Teenage Teenager - Green Day.

Really just a fun loving song about kids being kids. Considered Don’t You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds as a Breakfast Club reference but figured I’d try not to make it too easy.

Unbecoming

Generation Why - Conan Gray

Correlates with ordinary life, lack of adventure and wanting something more (both sound and lyrics).

Mistrial and Error

Run Boy Run - Woodkid

Purely for the scene in The Deep where Jim fights his greatest fear. The lyrics are perfect and I could absolutely see this song playing as Jim faces The Deep.

In the Hall of the Gumm-Gumm King

Revolution Radio - Green Day

I think high energy fights + the neon color palette and destruction in Trollmarket fit perfectly with the energy and sound of this song. Obviously also the epic portal escape at the end. I didn’t want to use Children of the Sun by Thomas Bergensen (although that’s a super good song and the instrumental version, None Shall Live, is used in the episode) and thought this one’s lyrics fit well with the team’s resistance/rebellion and renegade status.

A Night Patroll

Next Up Forever - AJR

This is not particularly chosen for the lyrics, but I do think they fit more or less. Correlates with this being the start of season 3, the tension is getting thicker and the stakes are rising. The vibe here is not necessarily being ready to take on responsibilities you know you have to, and being nervous to do so. (I am definitely focusing on Jim a bit much here, but the show is too).

Arcadia’s Most Wanted

Young and Menace - Fall Out Boy

Although the team has been acting as heroes for a while, this is their first time defeating regular crime - the first few phrases of lyrics fit with that the most. Figured it goes with underestimating teenagers. Also I’m noticing while editing that there is a ton of Fall Out Boy in this playlist.

Bad Coffee

The Reckless and the Brave - All Time Low

I chose this one for one of my favorite team-up dynamics: Jim, Toby, Steve, and Eli. The energy and the lyrics in this song I just think are perfect for this group and I think could also correlate with the whole grave sand training thing Jim did in the beginning (‘reckless’ & ‘brave’).

So I’m Dating a Sorceress

Love is Dead and We Killed Her - Doll Skin

Purely for Morgana’s raw badass energy. That’s it, that’s the explanation.

The Exorcism of Claire Nuñez

Rubi - Doll Skin

Specific to Claire, could also be seen as her possession but leans more into her own personal power. Lyrics are definitely important but I think the sound also fits Claire's character.

Parental Guidance

The Times They Are A-Changin’ - Bob Dylan

Not for the energy at all because I can’t really pinpoint that but! lyrics are important here and (even though I think it’s self-explanatory) represent the parents’ reactions.

The Oath

The Ghost of You - My Chemical Romance

The lyrics for this one definitely work - about pain and grief but also moving through it. Definitely chose this one for Draal but his death was the main event of the episode so that feels justified. I think the sound is a bit intense for the energy of this episode but I’m really pushing the angst and sorrow with this one. At least I didn’t use Another One Bites The Dust by Queen >:).

For the Glory of Merlin

Yesterday - The Beatles

This one is a bit of a stretch and it was difficult to choose for a while but I personally see Merlin as a morally gray character (although i wasn’t a fan of how he talked to Claire and manipulated Jim but anyway) and I think he’s got a very complicated past. He mentioned that he used to have a pure heart and I found that very interesting so this song is an ode to who he possibly used to be with its lyrics. Also they literally step back into a frozen moment in this episode in time so this felt fitting.

In Good Hands

California Friends - The Regrettes

More for the sweet relationship building that this episode does, and the potential of a closer friendship (the kind we see in D’aja Vu in 3Below). This song is arguably more about romantic love but I think it could work with platonic. (Also Arcadia is literally in California and we need a sunshiny song amidst all the angst in this season).

A House Divided

Ribs - Lorde

Ha-yeah, sorry guys but I had to do it. Quite obviously specific to the bathroom scene and especially the montage right when Jim steps into the tub, about loss of childhood and memories, growing up. I think a lot of people know and have cried to this song, much like a lot of us cried watching this episode.

Jimhunters

Untitled - mxmtoon

Slowly growing up, having to deal with changing relationships. Dealing with hardships while lonely is clearly a big part of most of this episode, but the song correlation breaks off a bit towards the end; the lyrics focus more on pushing through on your own while the episode talks about counting on one another in difficult times. I think it also plays into being a bit fearful of the future and having to adjust to new situations while remembering the past.

The Eternal Knight: Part 1

Don’t Stop Me Now - Queen

The vibes that go with the battle of the bands and also the onset of the fight when everything is getting more dangerous. Also the part of the battle before Jim takes on Angor Rot and Gunmar, where all the trollhunters, creepslayerz, and citizens are fighting together.

The Eternal Knight: Part 2

Time of Our Lives - Tyrone Wells

I know we’ve all heard this in fan-made edits after a series or show ends, but there’s a reason everyone uses this song. Feels like a very nice culmination, specific to parting ways with those you love after shared experiences. Really just for the last scene. This whole playlist idea came from me listening to this song in an edit and getting emotional so there’s that.

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franklyshipping · 5 years

Text

Day 14 ~ Christmas 2019 Ego Fanfics

OKEY DOKEY WE'RE ONTO DAY NUMBER 14 AND I THINK IT'S TIME WE GOT SOME DANCING UP IN THIS FESTIVE JOINT! LET'S DO THIS!

TAGGING: @bingy-switch and @bingylee

I feel like dancing at Christmas is a seriously unspoken thing of sweetness, whether it be with a romantic partner or with friends, having a wild boogie is a staple for this time of year. First off, it’s cold weather season and you gotta keep warm somehow because you KNOW that for at least a few days in December whatever is heating your home is going to break; frankly I think that’s why dancing was invented. Second, who doesn’t want to be close and moving in sync with the ones they hold most dear? Well…I can name person who wasn’t in the mood for any of that: Bingiplier.

The android was NOT in a good mood. He was curled up on a couch frowning and huffing, annoyed and sad that the icy and snowy weather made it impossible for him to go and skate and have fresh air. It was such bullshizzle and fudgery and cutlery (imagine what swear words those are yourselves), and Bing was just feeling bummed out by it all. However, someone was about to come along who was going to try and get Bing out of his moroseness….and that, surprisingly, was Mini Bing.

‘Sah dude!’

The three foot tall android skidded into the room with a grin, and I know you’re probably a tad surprised right now, perhaps assuming since they were both versions of Bing, they would both feel the same things. Au contraire! Mini Bing had a number of different hobbies compared to his taller, musclier self, and so the colder weather didn’t have him bummed out as much….much to regular Bing’s annoyance.

‘Dude….how can you be happy right now? Haven’t you looked outside man?’

Bing huffed sadly as he gestured to the snowfall outside, before folding his arms at his chest again in an annoyed fashion. Mini Bing’s face fell for a moment, but he managed to soon regain his chirpiness because now he was filled with a purpose, to cheer up his counterpart.

‘Aww c’mon man, there’s tons of fun stuff ya do can inside! Hang on…’

Mini Bing bounded over to a radio that was on a nearby coffee table, that Gooper seemed to be snuggled against; Gooper just found the texture of radio speakers to be super comfy okay don’t judge. Mini Bing booped the glob softly with a grin.

‘Heya bud, can ya put on some bangin’ festive tunes for me?’

Gooper wiggled at the boop, and let out an eager coo; in Gooper’s esteemed opinion it had been way too quiet all day, and he’d been waiting for someone to find an excuse to have music on. Mini Bing giggled as Gooper set about nudging a few nobs and straightening the radio’s aerial, and soon classic Christmas music was sweeping through the room.

‘Thank you maestro!’

Mini Bing pet Gooper softly, making him purr and wiggle at having done a good job, before the little glob bounced up and down on the spot (it was his method of dancing). Mini Bing meanwhile, slid across the floor so he was in front of Bing, and started to shimmy happily.

‘C’mon bro dance with me! Get that robo-booty shakin’!’

Bing rolled his eyes at his mini counterpart’s exclamation. He was happy he was having fun, but he himself was just not feeling it.

‘Nah dude, I’ll pass.’

Mini Bing huffed and pursed his lips; he wasn’t going to take no for an answer! He stalked to Bing, grabbed his hands…and started trying to tug him off of the couch.

‘I….am not giving up…until you get up!’

Mini Bing huffed and grunter, strained noises leaving his lips as he scrunched up his reddening face, using every single ounce of strength in his small body….aaand he only really succeeded in unfolding Bing’s arms. He wasn’t a strong guy, bless him. Bing huffed and gave the straining android a withering look, and honestly he was starting to look like a displeased Google Blue.

‘You’re not gonna stop buggin’ me are ya?’

‘Nope!’

Bing sighed resignedly, and just decided to stand up since he knew he wouldn’t be left alone. As he stood, the next song came on, which transpired to be even more upbeat and spurred Mini Bing to jump up and down and eagerly shimmy his chest; he was hoping his latent energy would transfer to Bing….somehow.

‘AYYY SHIMMY WITH ME BOI!’

Alas…it didn’t quite work. Bing merely stood still, slouching, and swaying minimally as he muttered.

‘I don’t have the energy.’

‘Your charge is at 88%!’

‘I still don’t have the energy.’

‘Aww c’mooon! Where’s my big badass Bingy bro at huh?’

Mini Bing elbowed one of Bing’s knees jovially, but internally the smaller android was starting to feel crap at seeing his big bro so disheartened and sad, especially when he continued to huff.

‘I’m just not in the mood, the music’s nice and all but….m’not feelin’ it bruh…’

Bing rubbed the back of his neck as he shifted his gaze to the floor, and now, Mini Bing started to really brainstorm. He could see that Bing’s emotions were only a little low on the surface, and weren’t as a result of some deeper hurt, so that meant that goofiness would be a more than appropriate method to help deal with them…but it was how that goofiness came across that Mini Bing had to really think hard about. Soon though, the smaller android grinned and mused.

‘Hmm, maybe the music’s not getting’ into ya enough…’

Thus, without any warning, Mini Bing jabbed his fingers into Bing’s sides, making the bigger android yip and jump in surprise. Not only that, but he smiled a weak smile, trying to cover his sides as he mumbled.

‘D-Dohooon’t, m’not ihin the mood for thahat…’

Mini Bing raised an eyebrow as his grin widened….a small smile and giggles? This was definitely the way to go, so he jabbed his sides once more as he teased.

‘Oh aren’t you? Cuz that little smile says a lot different buddy…’

Bing spluttered, starting to giggle even more as he weakly batted at his attacker’s hands as he tried to shimmy and back away from him cutely. Not only that….but he could feel flustered feelings creeping up on him at being teased about his smile.

‘C-C’mohon mahan i-ihit’s ihinvoholuntary!’

Bing tried to insist, which made Mini Bing snicker in amusement as he followed him with his tiny, tazering fingers, not relenting for a second as he crooned.

‘Oooohhh that’s a big word, Googs’d be so proud! And is that a salsa I see there? And here you said you weren’t in a dancing mood!’

Bing’s eyes widened as his cheeks burned a soft orange hue, feeling so embarrassed as he realised how much he was shimmying and wriggling from his mini counterpart’s tickling. Bing was properly caught up in giggles now too as Mini Bing’s little fingers skittered and pinched up and down his sides, with no sign of mercy.

‘Shuhuhush ihihit! S-Stahahap beheing sohoho teheheasy i-ihit’s mehehean!’

Bing was so embarrassed….but….he could feel himself getting happier from the tickling, and Mini Bing could see the joy growing inside him too.

‘It’s gotten rid of that poopy frown of yours hasn’t it?’

That made Bing whine and bow his head, because it was absolutely true, he was very far away from frowning right now. However, he still wasn’t going to let himself completely submit, and so decided to use one of his legs to try and force Mini Bing away from him.

‘Frihihick ohohoff duhude!’

Bing snorted amidst his giggles as he used his shin to try and knock Mini Bing aside, which Mini Bing was frankly VERY offended at! He set about grabbing said offending leg and squeezing Bing’s kneecap in retaliation.

‘Hey! I’m tryna cheer you up here!’

Bing squealed with wide eyes at the sudden attack on his kneecap, crying out adorably.

‘THIHIS IHIS AHANDROID AHABUSE!’

Bing started hopping about as snorts and cackles flowed from his lips, tugging at his leg and trying to kick it as Mini Bing delivered ticklish squeezes and pinches to his knee. The smaller android snickered at his struggles, and retorted with a raised eyebrow.

‘Looks more like a bad attempt at a Cossack to me.’

Bing spluttered and yipped, crying out once more because honestly he was SO done with Mini Bing’s mean teasing!

‘YOHOHOU’RE AHA AHAS-EEEE!’

Unfortunately however, Bing didn’t get the chance to finish his insult thanks to him tripping on the edge of a nearby rug and crumpling to the floor, which only allowed Mini Bing to cling to his leg even more securely. Mini Bing scratched the back of Bing’s knee furiously now too….because he knew that Bing had just been about to insult him, and Mini Bing ain’t the kind of android to let people get away with being rude.

‘Oooohhh were you just about to say a naughty word?’

Mini Bing teased as Bing threw his head back with flustered mirth, shaking it too as he laughed.

‘NAHAHAHAAAA!!’

Mini Bing kept up the devilish scribbling in his knee pit as he cooed teasingly.

‘Ohhh I think you weeere! You were nearly gonna sweeear!’

Bing hid his burning amber face in his hands as he squealed and laughed desperately; he was especially flustered right now because Mini Bing was always very insistent on punishing him if he ever used, or got close to using, bad language. So Bing knew he was seriously in for it now.

‘IHIHI WAHASN’T IHI WAHAHASN’T!!’

He tried to insist, but Mini Bing merely giggled as he hugged both of Bing’s legs together…and shuffled down towards his bare feet.

‘Ohohohhh you know what happens when you use naughty words!’

Bing couldn’t bring himself to even peek through his fingers as he whimpered in anticipation, squeaking and scrunching his feet as Mini Bings little fingertips teased the tops of his ticklish feet.

‘I-I-Ihi wahasn’t gohonna I-I wasn’t Ihi wahasn’t-EEEEE NAHAHAT THE FEET AAAHHH DUHUHUUUUDE!!!’

Mini Bing giggled evilly as he scratched Bing’s soles relentlessly, snickering as he gasped dramatically.

‘Ooohh we almost had ya in tune with Mariah there! C’mon, I bet ya can reach her pitch!’

As it so happened, the festive hit “All I Want for Christmas is You” had come on, and Bing’s ticklish reactions were very nearly in tune with the high notes of Mariah Carey….of course, Mini Bing pointing this out just flustered Bing to no end. Bing shook his head as he writhed with happy laughter, the tickling on his feet was driving him ballistic.

‘NAHAHAHAAAHHH STAHAHAPPIT! PLEHEHEEEASE!!!’

Saline tears were pricing at the corners of Bing’s eyes as he scrunched up his feet as tight as he could, but Mini Bing’s tickling fingers only scratched harder, their owner cooing playfully.

‘I’ll only have mercy on these feetsies if you promise to boogie with ‘em!’

By this point, it was a) a no brainer, and b) Bing was so confused by laughter, that any thoughts of sadness had been very thoroughly vanquished. Bing wailed as Mini Bing focused the climax of his tickly scratches at his inner arches, he was definitely at his limit now.

‘IHIHI PRAHAHAMIHIHIIISE!!!’

Mini Bing giggled with satisfaction as he had mercy and released Bing’s legs, thus leaving his ticklish counterpart giggling and panting residually on the floor as Mariah’s voice faded out in the background….swiftly followed by Wham. At the sound of the new song, Mini Bing stood, and offered Bing a hand with a grin.

‘Ready to dance this roof off dude?’

Bing wiped the corner of one of his eyes as he looked up at Mini Bing…and wasted no time in accepting his hand up and smiling a smile that was unencumbered by sadness.

‘Man…I’m ready to dance the frickin house down!’

With that, they danced…no, correction, they boogied. Actually, not only did they boogie, but they took the radio with them throughout the entire ego household and proceeded to obnoxiously boogie in front of every single person that they saw. Let’s be real though, that’s just the energy that Christmas music invokes.

WOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DO WOOOOO LUV YOUS XX

#markiplier #markiplier egos #bingiplier #bing #mini bing #sfw #platonic #ego fic #ego fanfic #tickle fic #tickle fanfic #tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #day 14 #christmas 2019

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avengers-nextgen · 5 years

Note

18 with Sage saying it, because I can totally imagine it in my head

18: Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!

— — —

Sage was a Christmas grinch. She didn’t like it. She’d spent one to many alone, in the streets, freezing her ass off, watching parents by candy canes, and hearing one too many horrible Santa impressions. In fact, she couldn’t remember when she’d even believed in Santa to begin with. The only aspect of Christmas that amused her was that Santa re-arranges spelled Satan.

So, needless to say she wasn’t thrilled when Enzo started thrusting Christmas sweaters at her demanding she wear them. Or when Nathaniel tried to put mistletoe everywhere resulting in people like Scout taking them down lest he have to kiss Orion every five seconds because Orion knew where every single one was.

“I hate Christmas,” Sage whined, bursting her head under her pillows as Penny blasted ‘Rockin around the Christmas tree,’ from her room. Salem gave a goal of agreement and his entirely beneath the mountain of pillows.

“You do this every year,” Alex pointed out. “Granted we never really got to celebrate it since bad people like to ruin holidays and stuff.”

“Precisely my point. You can celebrate baby Jesus being born while I celebrate not nearly dying again by remaining in my room unbothered and relaxed,” Sage remarked.

“With Penny’s music playing?” Alex snorted. “Not likely. Now come on, why do you really hate Christmas?”

“I told you why,” Sage glared, peeking out from the pillows. “Christmas isn’t fun for everyone and I hate having it shoved down my throat.”

“Did you ever have a nice Christmas? Just one?” Alex asked hopefully.

“I don’t know,” Sage admitted. “My mom always had a hard time with it. Since my grandma’s a bitch and all.”

“Well, this year will be different,” Alex promised, “you’re going to have the best Christmas ever.”

“How can you be so sure?” Sage frowned.

“Because I’m gonna make it happen,” Alex smirked.

— — —

“Why are you wearing a reindeer onesie?” Sage asked, shuffling out of her room to spot Alex helping Scout take down Nathaniel’s mistletoe.

“Because it’s comfy,” Alex smiled. “It has antlers too!”

Without missing a beat she pulled on the hood and sure enough there were antlers. Sage couldn’t help but poke them. “Flimsy.”

“Don’t be negative.”

“I’m a negative person. I thrive on negativity,” Sage protested, earning a roll of the eyes from Alex in return.

“Yeah well, get positive because we’re getting presents for everyone,” Alex decided.

“Gross.” Sage sighed.

“Nathaniel always gets the best ones,” Scout pointed out, tucking another string of mistletoe in a plastic grocery bag. “No one beats him.”

“It can’t be that hard.” Sage snorted.

“Oh it is. I don’t know how he does it every year but he does.”

And thus...an idea was born.

— — —

Sage had found the perfect gift for everyone. Even as they all looked skeptically at the presents with her name on them she couldn’t help but grin. If anyone was out doing Nathaniel it was the Christmas grinch.

“No way!” Piper laughed, “how did you get this?”

“Magic.”

Piper only shook her head as she examined the old little tool set from when she was a kid. She’d broken nearly every one and it had long been thrown away.

“The fish book!” Scout cried out, whipping out a children’s book with a fish on the cover whose scales glittered. “So shiny. Oh, I missed this.”

As one person proclaimed their excitement another soon joined in and all Sage could do was laugh to herself. They were all excited over things from their childhood. It was amusing, especially seeing Nathaniel’s astonished face.

“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!” Sage cackled, “and may the Christmas grinch win this year of gift giving.”

And the Christmas grinch did win that year of gift giving as all the motherfuckers were happy.

#avengers #avengers next gen #marvel #mcu #romanogers #black widow #captain america #natasha romanoff #pepper potts #scarlet witch #asks #holiday #christmas

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loversandantiheroes · 7 years

Text

Like Blood Running Warm - Part 2

Author’s Note: So this is largely the result of my attempt at Nano participation, which is honestly pretty paltry. Thanks to @longjackets, @nikkidee, @kingandcrook, and @veradune for the beta help - sorry I tried to flag you all down on a mutual hell week! There’s a lack of musical references in this chapter. My apologies, I promise there’ll be more in chapter 3.

Summary: A snowstorm strands a group of bus passengers at a near-derelict station overnight near the Colorado border. One of them just can’t seem to get warm.

Rating: M probably for the sake of blood and swearing and bodily harm.

Warnings: Angst by the bucket, Terminal Illness, Simm!Master being…Simm!Master and thus a walking dumpster fire, Actual Blood and Vampirism, Implied Harassment, Light Body Horror (no really, it got an “ew” from all the betas).

Word Count: 5314

AO3 Link: here

Previous Chapter: 1

- 1:28am

The sudden darkness was dizzying, and John shuffled off-balance. The quiet mutterings and conversations around him twisting into startled cries and yelps. Someone screamed. Blackpool’s hand clamped down almost painfully on his, and the dark brown of her irises gave a dull flash in the darkness. The first real thread of fear wound itself around his chest, drawing tight.

Well good job, old man, he thought, wheezing, either you’re delirious or you’ve flipped your fucking lid.

The maglite twisted in his hands, sliding back into the ring at his belt and pinching two of his fingers with it. He jerked it free, cursing, and clicked it on. Faces turned to the light like moths, wide and blank and fretful.

“It’s alright,” he said, trying to pretend he couldn’t hear the reedy rattle and whine in his own voice. “It’s alright. Lines go down every winter. Probably the only thing they account for around here. There’s a generator in the back.”

John leaned over the front desk, letting loose an unpleasant hitching cough as the pressure got to be too much. It was like his lungs itched. He searched blindly in the cubby under the desk, listening to the clatter as more than a few things were jostled loose and clattered to the floor. Finally, his hand seized on a thick, rubberized, plastic handle and hauled up a heavy torch lantern. He clicked it on and handed it to London.

“Point it up,” he said, gesturing to the ceiling. “Diffuses the light, should keep you from burning any retinas.”

“Yes boss,” she said with a little salute. She was smiling, but the beam of light from the lantern jittered and shook across the acoustic tiles.

John clucked his tongue, pointing at Masters. “You, give me a hand in back.” He stifled another ragged cough with his jacket sleeve. Inhale three, exhale two. Not far out enough to make it rattle. Come on, you old fuck, get it under control.

Masters gave him a look that was all puckered forehead and pursed, scowly mouth, but when John dragged on his coat and made for the Employee’s Only door, Masters followed.

“Should be through here,” John said, shining his torch down the narrow hall. To his left was a storeroom; to his right the back office, break room, and the driver’s office, which was furnished with a cot and a couch. At the far end was a heavy door that led to the sheltered storage compartment.

“Not quite sure what you need me for,” Masters said, and for the first time, John heard a faint trace of Northern England in the man’s accent. Not the caricature he’d used on Blackpool; this was real, but faint and faded. Stateside awhile then, maybe. “Starting up a generator isn’t exactly a team exercise. Push button, pull cord. It’s usually pretty fucking simple.”

“Maybe,” John agreed. “But the way things are going tonight, I’d rather not make any assumptions. And besides,” He turned, pointed the beam of the torch at Master’s chest and watched him squint. “I really don’t trust you.”

“I...excuse me?”

“You’re new to this route, yeah?” John turned away and heard the shuffle and squeak of the man’s shoes as he stumbled a little in the dark.

“Yeah.”

“Fairly new myself,” John said. “Only been working here a few months. But you get used to people, y’know? At least a few of them. This stop’s rubbish. Most of the big stuff goes straight through to Denver. We get little outbound trips or layovers and a few little stops and changeovers, like your one.”

“You gonna get to a point, old man?” Masters regarded him strangely in the glow of the torch, head tilted, eyes narrowed.

“My point is you’ve had this route for one night, and there’s already two women walked off that bus that cannot wait to get away from you, can barely stand to look at you, and as far as I’m concerned that tells me everything I need to know.”

“Bullshit,” Masters said, weak light bouncing off his teeth as he bared them in a nasty grin.

“Oh, I doubt that.” John felt his pulse pick up, drumming fretfully in his throat. He gestured to the badge on Masters’ chest. “New route, old ID. I’d be willing to put down a fair chunk of my last paycheck you got shunted off your old route for the same thing you’re trying to get up to now. Probably even the one before that. Must have friends in Admin somewhere, but if they’ve stuck you all the way out here, I’d say you’re probably on your last legs. Been getting too handsy or too mouthy.”

“I don’t think you know anything. I think you just want to play white knight for your little girlfriend back there so you can try and get in her panties before the roads clear, provided you can get that withered old pecker to stand up on its own. What about it, Granddad? That thing even raised its head since Y2K?”

“This is your last shot, am I right?” John carried on, unblinking, patient. “Last run before they drop you for good, before somebody can press charges and make it shit for the whole company instead of just you.”

Masters blinked, his grin faltering and falling into a sneer.

John stepped forward, eyes boring down on the shorter man. “Ah. There it is. Thought so. Now, alas, my scrapping days are a bit behind me. So as much as it’d do my heart good to chib your perverted little ratface back through your arsehole, I’m afraid that’s not really an option. But I promise you, if you so much as breathe at those ladies wrong, I will be on the phone to human resources first thing come daylight, and I will do my level best to make sure there are charges filed against you. Are we clear?”

Master’s lip was twitching. He looked fit to spit nails if he was given half a chance. “Crystal,” he snapped.

“Wonderful.” John made for the heavy door, twisting the handle. The door crackled, gave a fraction, a thin whistle of cold wind coming through the infinitesimal gap, and stopped. It wasn’t iced over, not properly. The outer storage was sheltered, but it was cold enough it had frosted up the gap in the door frame just enough to stick fast.

“Damn. Gimme a hand here, door’s stuck.”

Masters socked his shoulder against the door.

“On three,” John said. The itching in his chest was maddening. He zipped his coat all the way up, ducking his head to cover his mouth and nose with the collar, puffing in what little warmish air he could.

“Three!” Masters lunged suddenly, driving his shoulder into the door.

John yelped as the door popped open with a loud crack, sending him spilling down the short steps to the concrete floor, flashlight tumbling from his grip, scraping skin from the heels of his hands and twisting his left knee painfully beneath him. The storage room was sheltered but not heated, and the pavement was icy cold. The first lungful of cold air hit his lungs like ice water, and he coughed it back up, pins and needles pricking up and down his arms and chest as he rocked and wheezed.

Masters stood over him, regarding his current state with mild distaste. “Ooh, sorry about that, Granddad. Guess I got a little over-eager.” He squatted, knees popping. “Y’know I gotta tell you, friend. You don’t look so good.”

John could feel his face turning purple, as much from humiliation as from strain. Brokedown old fool, you can’t even protect yourself let alone anyone else. There was a horrible tearing sensation in his chest, and he groaned and hocked up some horrible mass of spongy tissue that did not feel like phlegm. He spat into the darkness, wiping his mouth judiciously without sparing a glance to whatever had torn itself loose.

Masters tutted. “In point of fact, you’re in just about the sorriest state I’ve seen anybody who wasn’t rattling the chain ‘round the pearly gates.” The man rocked back on his heels, chuckling.

“I’m good enough,” John grated and pulled himself up, hanging onto the door handle for purchase. His knee throbbed but just barely took his weight. A hot flush surged through him. The first sharp little beads of sweat formed across his forehead, stinging in the cold. Not good. Not good at all.

John waited. A taste of copper lingered in the back of his throat. His stomach knotted. He balled his fists but did not raise them, shifting his weight to his good foot.

“If you mean to try it, be my guest,” he said. Every word hurt, like his chest was full of knives. “Have at. Then you can have a jolly old time explaining to the day manager why you took the half-dead porter out into the cold for a few rounds. I mean, provided I don’t just keel over after one hit, right? Come on. Give those chains a good rattle, mate.”

The glee drained away from Masters’ face, leaving only that ratty, pinched look of disdain. The prick didn’t want a fight, especially one that might leave a half-frozen corpse in the storage shed of his employers. “Well, well,” he said bitterly. “Spunky old fuck, aren’t you?”

John pointed to the far corner. “Generator,” he snarled.

“Yeah, yeah. Right. Generator.”

Only when Masters had backpedaled a good five feet did John bend to retrieve the flashlight. The generator was shored up behind a plywood and chainlink partition, latched but not locked. The beast itself wasn’t quite as old as the rest of the building would’ve left him to believe, but it was hardly new. It was, at least, fairly well maintained by the looks of everything. The fuel tank was nearly full with diesel, and the exhaust hose still had a solid seal. Small mercies, finally. Master had been right about one thing: this was not a two man job. The generator had a simple on/off switch and a pull cord. Flip one, pull the other.

John flipped the switch. He took a deep breath, hiding his mouth and nose under the collar of his coat again, and pulled the cord. The generator belched fitfully, then roared, sending up little wafts of exhaust and steam into the cold. The open doorway filled with thin light as the electrics kicked on.

“Right. In,” John said, jabbing the maglite at the open door. “And I meant what I said. I don’t much care what happens to me, doesn’t matter much at the end of the day. But you leave them alone.”

“Yes sir,” Masters sneered.

- 1:59am

“Blimey, you look like death, you alright?” London jogged up as John came limping in, rubbing her palms nervously on the legs of her jeans.

John shook his head dismissively. “Back door was stuck, took a tumble, I’ll be fine. Everyone alright here?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re good. Susan had to use the ladies, Clara went with, so I gave them the torch. They’ve been gone for a few though. Clara’s been looking kinda pale, probably just nerves or bad cafeteria nosh.”

“I’ll go check on them.”

London blinked. “I mean, that’s sweet, sort of, but it is a ladies’ room. Fairly certain you’re not a lady. I can do it.”

“I didn’t say I was going to just walk in. There’s this fantastic thing that got invented a while back called knocking. People do it on doors, I hear. Wild stuff, thought I’d give it a shot.” He spared a glance at Masters, who had found himself a spot on a bench in the far corner and was fanning through the pages of some expired magazine.

“Here,” he said, an idea striking him. He pulled the keys from his belt, found the strange, fat, round one, and held it out to her. “Vending machine. Bottom of the panel. Be sure you lift up when you try to open, it sticks.”

“You sure? Won’t you get in trouble?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh I’ll definitely get in trouble. They’ll whinge and moan and take twenty dollars in junk food out of my next paycheck. To hell with ‘em. You lot could use a pick me up.”

“Sweet!”

The bathrooms were down a narrow hallway next to a janitorial closet and a pay phone. John raised his hand to knock, then froze. A grunt came from inside, followed by a thud. In his mind he saw Blackpool dropping like a stone to the stone tiled floor and any sense of propriety immediately fled. He threw the door open and staggered in, preparing himself for anything.

It wasn’t Blackpool that had fallen. Susan, the older blonde, lay half-propped against the tiled wall under the electric hand dryer. Her eyes were rolled up to the whites, lids fluttering, mouth ajar. It was the sort of vacant, ecstatic look John had only ever associated with either good drugs or good sex. Blackpool bent over her, stroking her hair gently, face buried in the blonde woman’s neck.

“B-Blackpool?”

Her head snapped up. A thin line of blood trickled from one corner of her mouth. Her eyes had gone a bright, burnished gold like wedding bands around wide, blown pupils. “Fuck. Glasgow,” she said, almost mournfully. Her canines were too long, too sharp, bone-white spindles glinting bloody in the greasy fluorescent lights. “Please don’t be scared.”

Please don’t be scared. It was more than a request. He felt it hit the center of his brain, the flow of adrenaline suddenly ceasing. The scream he felt bubbling up died off in his throat. He was not calm, but his fear had been stopped wholesale. The shock of it, after everything, was too much. His knees gave, and he collapsed in a tangled heap.

Blackpool watched him fall, pained, as if she hadn’t meant to use whatever power she’d thrown at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. Give me one moment. I can explain. I promise you. Please. Just let me explain.”

She stuck her thumb in her mouth, and John heard an unpleasant crunch of as one of those fangs punched through the skin. She squeezed until the blood ran, then swiped it across the neat punctures on Susan’s neck. They closed almost instantly, and Blackpool bent to lick away the remains.

“This, this isn’t, this can’t be. You can’t be…”

And then she was beside him, cold hands cupping his face. He squeezed his eyes shut. Sharp nails scraped against the sides of his scalp. He breathed her in, a bouquet of bloody lilac and dark chocolate like a grim valentine, and beneath it something darker, wilder, older. Here at last was death, not inside him but above him, with feral teeth and bloody breath. The first tears, hot and stinging, started to fall. In the absence of his fear he was left with a cold, bone-deep emptiness, a ragged hole where the fear had been. He marked the shape of it with mild interest, noted where it sat, the odd frayed ends where it connected to him. It was a queer sensation, this detachment, but the separation brought with it it’s own horrible realization: in this manner or any other, he was afraid to die.

Her thumbs traced the hollows of his face. “Glasgow. Doctor. Look at me. Please.”

Cautiously he opened his eyes. The gold in her eyes was fading slowly back to warm brown, fangs receding. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her hands fell away, and whatever control she had imposed on him fell with it. She slumped away from him, wild patches of roses blooming in her cheeks.

“I didn’t want you to see that,” she said.

“Tell me I’m delirious, Blackpool,” he whispered. “Do that. Please. Tell me I’m crazy. Anything.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re not.”

“This is real?”

“Yes.”

John passed a hand over his face. “You’re a vampire. Vampires are real and you’re one of them.”

“Yes.”

“Right. Okay.” A long beat. Then: “Is she dead? Did you kill her?”

“No,” Blackpool said immediately. “I don’t do that. I won't do that. I took no more than I needed. She would’ve given up more in the back of a Red Cross van. She’ll only be out for a few minutes.”

John’s laugh sounded horrible to his own ears, something mad and hyena-like, high and wheezing and verging on hysterical. “Then we should get her out of here. Quickly, before someone else comes to check.”

Blackpool stared blankly at him. “What?”

“Would you rather leave her on the lavatory floor?”

“No, I just… You’re going to help me? You saw what I did, and you’re going to help me?” she asked disbelievingly.

“For the moment, yes. I’m going to help you. And then I’m going to put the kettle on, and you and I are going to sit down and you are going to explain this to me, because right now I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“And what about the rest of them? What will you tell them?”

“What will you tell them?” he asked, too sharply. “I found you in here with her after she’d collapsed. If anyone needs a story here it’s you.”

“She fainted,” Blackpool said without hesitation. She didn’t even blink. “Clocked her head on the tiles.”

“Fine. Good enough. There are cots in the back in the driver’s room. We can lay her down there. Help me get her up.”

He moved to get up, but his knee buckled, and he slid back to the floor, stifling a yelp.

“What happened, what’s wrong?” She was leaning towards him cautiously, hands out.

“I…” he considered, reconsidered, shook his head. “Door to the back was frozen shut. We got it open, but I took a spill. It’s fine, I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, so you keep telling me.” That concern was back, her mouth set, brow furrowed. Carefully, she laid a hand on his knee, feeling him wince away from the touch. Reflexively, she put her other hand to his chest, meaning to hold him still or calm him, he wasn’t sure which, but then she stopped dead.

The hand on his chest slid down, twisted, curled around his ribs. Her face fell. She could feel it. Somehow she could. He’d found her not five minutes ago feeding on the blood of some upper middle class housewife in a public bathroom and now here she was on her knees beside him with pain and pity in her eyes, fingers finding in seconds what it had taken sixteen hours in an ER and a CT scan for the doctors to find. “Oh God. Glasgow-”

“Don’t,” he said, his heart in his throat, strangling the word. “Not now.”

She swallowed hard. “Alright. Alright, I won’t. But your knee will not hold up you and her both, and you’re running a fever. It’s not bad, not yet. I can help, a little, if you’ll trust me to.”

John found his mouth too dry to speak. The initial shock was fading, and the fear he’d felt for that brief moment still had not returned to take its place. Behind Blackpool on the tiles, Susan had taken to snoring gently. The banality of it was jarring, clattering up against the still-fresh image of the grotesquerie he had stumbled in on. It was getting harder and harder to believe he had seen what he had seen. Monsters, in his limited experience, were not meant to be merciful.

What, then, did that make her?

He asked, “What did you have in mind?”

She held up her right hand in offering. Blood still trickled slowly from her thumb. “It won’t change you, not like me,” she added reassuringly. The hand on his side squeezed gently. “And I’m sorry, but it won’t cure you. But it will help for a time.”

Heaven help me. This night cannot get any stranger.

He nodded dumbly. “Alright.”

John opened his mouth and waited, thinking distantly of kneeling before a priest for communion. Blackpool slid her thumb into his mouth, three neat droplets of blood collecting on his tongue. Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.

The effect was almost instantaneous. The pain in his leg vanished, the stiffness in his joints, too. The prickling flush of the building fever faded, leaving in its stead a low, pleasant hum. He felt good. He felt fantastic, actually, the hum building into something warm and sweet that made a small shiver trickle down his spine. Instinctively, he moved forward, wanting more, but Blackpool pulled her bloodied thumb back and held him fast.

“No. That’s enough.”

John blinked, hearing his breathing come a little too quick and ragged. “Sorry,” he said stupidly.

“It’s ok. I should’ve warned you first.” She rocked back onto her feet. “Can you stand?”

He laughed. “I think I could run the Boston Marathon right now. What the hell are you made of, morphine and adderall?”

“And slugs and snails and puppydog tails.” She smiled and offered him a hand.

For the first time in maybe fifteen years, John’s back and knees gave no protest as he stood. Three drops, he marveled. Better than Vicodin.

Susan gave a snorting groan and half-rolled onto her side, sliding down a little further toward the floor with her blonde hair trailing sticking to the tiles, trailing above her in a little fan. She was mumbling, a train of words lost in a slur of sleep, the only thing John could make out sounded suspiciously like “pancakes”.

Lifting her was astonishingly easy, as if she weighed nothing at all. Carrying her out proved to be far more awkward. Blackpool was so damned short and John so tall that Susan hung askew between their shoulders like a sagging laundry line. In his present state, John felt he could’ve hoisted her one-armed on his own, but everyone had seen him limp in from the back, and this didn’t need to seem any stranger than it already was. John managed to use his elbow to pry the door open just far enough to jam one bony hip through and shove it the rest of the way.

“Oi!” he called out, surprised at the strength of his own voice. “London! We could use a little help!”

The squeak of her shoes echoed down the hall. London gasped when she rounded the corner, her jog turning into a sprint. “Oh my god, what happened? Is she okay?”

“I dunno she just passed out,” Blackpool said as they hobbled her out to the hallway. “One minute we were drying our hands and talking about wanting breakfast and next thing I know she’s just collapsed.”

Oh, she was good. John kept his eyes judiciously forward, jerking his head in the vague direction of the back offices. “There’s a cot in the driver’s break room, give us a hand with the doors, yeah?”

“Yeah! Of course, yeah, doors, I can do doors,” Bill said, jogging along nervously beside them.

There was a small outcry when they cleared the lounge as the other passengers got a look at the unconscious woman.

“She’s alright,” John said in his best reassuringly authoritative tone. “Just a little fainting spell, nothing to worry about.”

“Pancakes,” Susan grumbled.

“Hey, you’re comin’ round,” Blackpool said, giving the woman a hopeful pat.

“I want pancakes. There’s nooo pancakes,” Susan whined, head lolling. “I-wanna-speak-to-your-manager.”

“Does anybody know, did she eat anything in Cheyenne?” London asked loudly, pushing open the door to the back offices. A few folk shrugged. “Might be low blood sugar. Moira, my foster mum, she gets it all the time, goes a little too long between meals and gets all wobbly. Passed out in Sainsbury's once on a display full of kievs.”

The driver’s room was small, walls painted the same ancient off-green as the rest of the place. A long faded brown couch sat catty-cornered next to a big boxy television with at least half of its plastic buttons snapped off. Three cots were lined up in the back, past a round chipped formica table under a row of tall, narrow windows. London scooted past them, shoving peeling vinyl chairs out of the way, and waved them to one of the green cots.

“Alright, ease her down,” John said, slipping the woman from his shoulders. “Get her feet please.”

London stooped and grabbed Susan’s fleece-lined Uggs. “So what do we do? I mean we can’t get a doctor in.”

John bent, feeling around on the woman’s wrist, counting beats and watching the second hand on the yellowed clock face on the wall tick by. “Damned if I know,” he said. “No medical bracelet, anyway, so. Pulse seems good, at least, but if she knocked her head on the way down she’s gonna have a hell of a headache when she comes around.”

He turned to London, who was chewing fretfully on her nails. “Can you stay here, keep an eye on her?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

“If she wakes up, make sure she stays put, don’t let her up. I’ll get another round of tea and coffee started and bring you a handful of nibbles out of the machine. Hopefully, it is just one too many missed meals.”

London tucked herself onto the cot next to Susan, hands around her knees.

- 2:20am

John left a stack of foil-wrapped Mrs. Field’s cookies and two styrofoam cups of tea with London. She seemed grateful, piling up the foil packets on the TV tray someone had turned into an erstwhile cot-side table and starting immediately on her tea, but her face was strained and the flesh under her eyes was beginning to bulge and sag.

“You ok?” he asked, nudging her shoulder gently.

“Yeah,” she said, an easy and automatic lie. He tipped his head, a wordless question, and she sighed. “No. I mean, it’s stupid. Don’t mind me.”

“If you’re not alright, you’re not alright,” John said, sitting carefully on the last empty cot. “It’s been a weird night. You’re allowed to not be alright all the time.”

“I just, I’ve had this bad feeling all day, and it just keeps getting worse. Like, I’m just about the least intuitive person you’ll ever meet. Ask any of my friends and they’ll tell you that. Night out on a pub crawl, I tried to ask the number of this gorgeous girl, and it wasn’t until we actually left that pub that my friends bothered to point out that the girl’s boyfriend was sitting next to her the whole time. Something could be staring me right in the face waving a little flag and I’d never see it. But…” She trailed off picking at the rim of the styrofoam cup.

“But?” he asked. The tiniest push.

“Something’s wrong,” she whispered, as if afraid someone would hear, “or is gonna be wrong. I feel like, like I’m standing on a diving board, and there’s no water in the pool. Just right at the edge of something awful. I can feel it in my stomach, snaking around. The longer this day goes on, and the more happens, the worse it gets. And I keep trying to ignore it because it’s stupid, you know? Queen of the Oblivious suddenly turns anxiety-psychic. That’s just not a thing.”

John leaned forward on his elbows. “You’re scared.”

She laughed. “Yeah, Dumbo. I’m scared. Properly bricking it.”

“Me too,” he said gently.

London looked at him, all at once stricken and relieved, and burst into tears.

“I just wanna go home to my girlfriend,” she said between hitching sobs. “We had a fight before I left on holiday. Heather, she was supposed to come with me, and then she couldn’t, and I said something stupid, and she said something stupid, and we were both just so bloody stupid. I haven’t even been able to phone her since I left. Too bloody chicken. And today I woke up cold and miserable in a cheap motel with mouse-eaten sheets, and the very first thought in my head was: I’m never gonna see her again. And the last thing she’s going to remember of us is me slamming the door.”

After everything that had happened that night, somehow this was the worst. London was a sweet girl, bright and sharp and funny, and seeing her crumble in some grubby little back office hurt in some fundamental fashion John couldn’t quite name. He wanted to comfort her, but Christ, he was terrible at comfort anymore. The part of him he’d swung open so easily to admit others had all but rusted shut with grief and disuse.

John dropped to a crouch and tugged one of her hands into his. “There is nothing wrong with scared, London,” he said, willing his voice to softness. “Scared keeps you from sticking forks in light sockets or playing tag with traffic. And scared is how you know when something matters to you. Really matters. Because you don’t fear losing the things that have no value to you.”

The shaking in her shoulders was easing, but only just. “It’s not just that.”

“What is it? What is it that has you so sure you’re not going to make it home?”

“I dunno,” she said. “Like I said I just, I felt it, soon as I woke up. It’s stupid, I know.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think you’re a long way from home and things have gone spectacularly pear-shaped. But I think there’s more to it than you’re telling me.” Her hand gave a little jerk. “Is it about the driver?”

London all but shrank into herself, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“That’s a yes, then,” John said.

“Leave it. Please.”

John took a deep breath, all at once too angry to marvel at just how deep and easily he could breathe for the moment. “Alright.” He thought to say more, to promise her protection, safety, to try for a warm, roguish smile and tell her that if Masters meant to get at her he’d have to go through him first, but the incident in the storage room was still too fresh. He was no protector, even if he wanted to be.

Instead, he said: “You ever seen the sun come up over the snow in Colorado?”

London shook her head, sniffling. He gave her hand a squeeze.

“Well,” he said, glancing up at the clock. “In about three hours, you’re going to. And by then the plows will be out, and they’ll dig out this little dungheap of a station so you can get on the next bus to Denver. Yeah? And you’ll call your girlfriend on the bus out and find out she’s probably already forgiven you for the thing you haven’t forgiven yourself for.”

She let out a dry bark that was half sob and half laughter.

“You’re gonna be ok.”

That got a smile through a fresh fall of tears. “Thank you,” she muttered.

He gave her hand one last squeeze. “Drink your tea. I’m just around the corner, alright?”

She nodded, scrubbing at her face with the sleeves of her jumper.

As John turned to leave, he found the doorway occupied. Blackpool stood leaning with her shoulder against the frame, looking at him with a teary sort of disbelief, as though he were the creature spun up from a storybook and not her.

“I’m starting to wonder if you’re real,” she said.

He propped open the door to the break room with his elbow. “So sayeth the vampire,” he muttered softly.

“It’s easy to believe in monsters,” she said earnestly. “After awhile it gets harder to believe in kindness.”

#whouffaldi #twelve x clara #doctor who fanfiction #twelfth doctor #clara oswald #vamp!clara #two in a row woohoo

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lovingalexlots · 5 years

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Chapter 3 is up on Ao3 everyone!

Or you can read it bellow the break, but don’t forget to show your love on Ao3 too!

Waiting for the results of the exam was driving Izuku up the wall.

He already went through his normal training routines, studied, played some video games with Kacchan, and did his chores. There hadn’t been any hero incidents that day, so there wasn't anything new to analyse either.

With a bored sigh, he sits down at his second desk. This one he uses for his villain business in his own little office. It’s in the family’s hidden villain quarters below their house. The quarters are a cozy, lair esk maze, with each high ranking member having their own office, a general meeting room, a gym, interrogation rooms, cells, labs, a clinic, a kitchen, living quarters, and a lovely lounge area.

After some shuffling through papers and a bit of research, he finds a great victim for Devil Swinger to go for next: Kobo Ishiwari.

The man is a small business owner. As far as the law knows, Mr. Ishiwari’s used electronics store is just a rundown electronics thrift store. In reality, it's only partially that. Izuku has it on good authority that Mr. Ishiwari buys and sells way more than just used tech.

In fact, most of the used things he does sell was stolen by Mr. Ishiwari’s little ring of thieves. Said thieves don’t just steal simple electronics. Izuku has found evidence on organ trade, security backdoors to companies, illegally filmed porn, and much much more.

The man had his own little black market going and Izuku couldn’t let that go unchecked.

Not to mention the man tended to do his business partners dirty. His father’s villain network and Shigaraki's growing “League” had no need for someone who doesn't keep their end of bargains.

With that settled, Izuku dawns his Devil Swinger persona.

Ink cascades down onto his head, making his green curls turn black and limp with liquid. It continues to run down past his forehead and stops right above his mouth while sliding down his cheeks to drip off of his chin. It covers all his freckles without any hassle. With the extra drops, Izuku coats his neck. He puts in black contacts that will make his sclera and iris completely black. An inky portrayal of a demon.

He then slips on a black button up and a grey vest, along with smokey black skinny jeans and black combat boots. The last thing he adds is a few drops of ink on each fingernail as if he painted them with polish.

Izuku decides to take his violin, feeling in the mood to play some Lindsey Stirling .

…

It only requires simple humming for Izuku to have the three large buckets of ink follow him to the location.

Standing under the streetlamp’s spot light in front of Mr. Ishiwari's shop, he lets the buckets clunk down around him.

Lifting his bow, he drags it across the strings in one long note.

And thus the song begins.

Ink shoots out of the buckets, blobs congealing together to form into his Little Devils. “Little Devils” is a loving term Izuku calls his little gargoyle/gremlin beings of ink which is where his villain name was coined from. The ink creatures have two pointy horns, huge grins, claws, and stringy tails that end in a spear.

Under Devil Swinger’s command, his Little Devils break through the glass door and windows of the shop.

Normally, ink wouldn’t be tough enough to break through reinforced glass, but his father added a few bonus features to the ink he uses for his Little Devils. Including, but not limited to: lacing the ink with heavy lead particles to make the ink pack a stronger punch, different poisonous batches, and acidic batches. But examples of those in use is a story for another day.

The Little Devils rampage the shop, breaking displays, stealing tech, breaking unwanted things, all around making a huge mess. Izuku steps inside. His steps flow like a dancer’s. A bounce whispers in his moves match the beat of his violin as he plays Master of the Tides , by Lindsey Stirling.

Izuku always thought the song was rather fitting for Devil Swinger. The music allowing him to be a master of his own tides of ink.

It also has a good beat, so there’s that...

Two of his Little Devils drag a man out from hiding behind the counter. Izuku recognizes Mr. Kobo Ishiwari instantly, instructing his ink to manhandle the man until he was kneeling in front of him.

Devil Swinger lowers his violin, his foot continuing the beat seamlessly. Heedless of the shattered glass and electronic parts all over the floor that Mr. Ishiwari kneels atop of. Izuku leans down and threads a hand through the sweaty, balding hair of the shop owner, pushing it out of his face.

“Ah, little Mr. Kobo Ishiwari. You’ve been a naughty man, haven’t you?” Devil Swinger says cheerily, an eerie smile splitting his face

“Pa-please! No! I’ve been good! I haven’t broken any laws! Please!” the man babbles pathetically.

Izuku tsks at him like a chiding parent. “Now now, Mr. Ishiwari. I don’t like it when people lie to me. Why don’t you try again?”

“But I have been good! Honest!! Please!” the man was a blubbering mess, ugly crying as if he was the child in the room, not Izuku.

“A whiny lying child. A type of person I hate having to deal with.” Devil Swinger crouches down so he’s eye to eye with the man. With a sharp whistled note, the little devils holding Ishiwari dry out and harden tough as brick. Another useful way to utilize the lead inside of them.

“Now, I’d normally kill you at this point and get things over with before any heroes are able to show up, but I’ve been bored out of my inky skull, so you’ll be entertaining me for tonight.” He leans closer to whisper in the man’s ear, “then I’m going to go collect all your little thieves and serve them up to the police on a dinner tray of evidence.”

Yeah, okay, that was a little cheesy, but whatever. Everyone loves cheese. Damn, now he was craving Nachos.

Izuku stands up, giving Mr. Ishiwari a big smile. He starts humming, droplets of ink stretching up to join the few on each of his nails.

“Oh Mr. Ishiwari tell me,” he starts singing as the ink on his nails elongate into talons, “Is it true that fear is agony?”

A claw whips out and stabs the store owner in the shoulder before retracting into a normal talon again. The man screams, but Devil Swinger continues singing his parody of Mrs. Potato Head originally by Melanie Martinez.

“Hope they cover this under warranty,” another slash goes from the man’s chin, up his cheek, and to his eyebrow in a crescent motion, “Will this scar ever heal over?”

“Oh Mr. Kobo, I’m not sorry” he sings above the man’s screams, “They’ll never remember your story.”

Devil Swinger steps behind the man and grabs his jaw to angle his head back. “Don’t you promise to have virtue,” he leans down to threatenly whisper the next lyrics into Mr. Ishiwari’s ear, “You’re much more than a simple delinquent.”

It’s then that a hero shows up. They seem to have been doing a late night patrol, dressed in all black with a weird type of grey fabric flying all over the place. Ishiwari screams anew for the hero to help him

“Did you really think you’ll get out of this?” Izuku growls the last lyrics out before deeply slicing the man's throat with his claws and running.

With quick whistled notes, he gets all his Little Demons to follow him out the back.

The hero is fast on his feet, cutting Izuku off in the small parking area behind the building. Izuku has a Little Devil hand him his violin and he prepares to fight, but before he can start playing, all of his Little Devils collapse into nondescript piles of ink goo and stolen tech from the store. He tries whistles, a few sung lyrics, even a stanza on his violin, but the ink isn’t responding to him.

His quirk…

It isn’t working…

The hero lunges for him, but he just barely dodges. He cups a handful of ink off the ground, flinging it at the hero’s face to blind him and give Izuku some time to get away.

It works. He runs back through to the front of the store, trying his violin again. This time the blobs of ink that were left behind respond to him.

Devil Swinger has the ink cling to any exposed color on him, turning his entire body black as shadows. He can hear the hero crashing through the back of the store, trying to make chase, but it’s too late. Izuku is already leaping through the frame of the broken glass door and disappearing into the dark of the night.

...

Once he’s a safe distance away, Izuku stops to take a breather.

Well shit …

That was a close call AND he lost a lot of ink and gadgets in the process! He hated when he went into the red with an outing. Getting no profit for his efforts is so frustrating. As soon as Kacchan hears of this, he’s gonna grill him into next week!

He sighs, making sure no one is around when he sheds his ink. At least he was able to keep ahold of his violin. It always upsets him when he loses or brakes one of his instruments.

He has the ink cover his legs under his pants so it’s not noticeable. Then he takes off his vest to fold up into a small square and shoves it in his pocket. His button up shirt gets tied around his waist, leaving him with just his undershirt. He purposely wears normal clothes underneath just for this reason. Today he’s wearing a light green shirt that says “Sweater Vest” in French, written in old English font (Chandail Gilet).

Now he’s going to have to go back to his boredom.

Luckily, the letter from UA arrives the next day...

_________________________

Songs used:

Master of the Tides by Lindsey Stirling Mrs. Potato Head by Melanie Martinez (tho Izu changed the lyrics)

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