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bellakitse · 4 years ago

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Making friends in Life or Death situations

“No,” Nancy shakes her head quickly, tightening her hold on his face so he can focus on her. “You have to stay awake,” she continues, her voice cracking as fear grips her again. This is her friend, sure they don’t know each other that well, but Carlos is nice and sweet and the love of her partner’s life. He’s her friend, damn it, and she’s not going to lose him, not after losing Tim. “Please, stay awake.”

Carlos and Nancy are trapped together after a tornado hits the pharmacy they are in.

Written for @911lonestarweek - Day 2: Emergencies/“Please, stay awake.”/Angst

Nancy Gillian walks into the Walgreens just as her phone rings out another tornado warning.

“Dear, we’re closing early, in 15 mins,” an older woman behind the counter says to her with a quick smile. “Because of the tornados.”

Nancy gives the woman a nod of acknowledgment and quickly makes her way down to the pet aisle. She wouldn’t even be out if it wasn’t for the fact that she realized she was down to her last can of cat food and with no time to make a Costco run for her new tabby. Looking through the limited selection, she picks a few of the chicken options, dropping them into her basket, and heads for the junk food aisle. Just some salt and vinegar Pringles to go with the leftover Easter chocolates she has back at her apartment, and she can head home and ride out the bad weather.

Turning the corner without looking in her rush to finish her shopping, she bumps face-first into a solid chest, bouncing right off it. She feels herself fall back and closes her eyes, bracing for the pain falling will cause, but it never comes. Instead, strong hands grab hold of her waist, keeping her upright.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry – Nancy?”

Nancy opens her eyes at the sound of her name, finding familiar brown eyes looking at her with concern.

“Officer Reyes!” she squeaks out, blushing when he raises an eyebrow at her. “I mean, Carlos – hi!”

Carlos gives her a friendly smile in return. “Hello, Nancy.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes quickly, gesturing around them. “I was in a rush to get what I need before the tornados touch down and wasn’t looking.”

“Same,” Carlos says with a laugh. “TK sent me to get what we need to ride it out before we are eventually called into work when it’s over.”

Nancy peeks into his basket, her eyebrows going up when she finds condoms, lubricant, and ice cream in it. “The essentials for sure,” she says dryly, biting back a smirk when she sees him blush and start to stammer in response. “Relax, officer,” she continues, feeling bad for how red he’s turned. “We all know how nauseatingly in love you and my partner are. This is not shocking.”

“Maybe not shocking, but embarrassing for sure,” Carlos grumbles back, scowling at her when she lets out a snort.

She grins at him, pleased when he gives her a reluctant smile back. She doesn’t know Carlos all that well. She’s been to his place a handful of times now that TK has made it a point to invite her when the rest of the 126 meets up at their apartment. But Carlos is usually in the kitchen making sure everyone is well-fed, and afterwards, he seems to enjoy sitting back and watch their brassier friends interact. She understands the instinct, feeling they’re a lot alike, which is why she can’t help but feel comfortable around him even though they’re not super familiar with each other.

She opens her mouth to tease him some more when a piercing siren rings out and the lights in the establishment flicker seconds before the whole place starts to shake.

“Shit,” Carlos curses, already on the move as he drops his basket and takes her arm, moving her further back.

“The cashier – “ she starts to say, only for her voice to get lost under the howling winds. It’s so loud; it sounds like a freight train barreling straight for them. She blinks, once, maybe twice, less than a second of time, but it’s all that’s needed for the front of the place to disappear under collapsing walls and ceiling.

She feels strong arms go around her waist, and the next thing she knows, she’s rolling across a hard surface and landing on the floor. Carlos covers her as best he can with his body, trying to make them as small as possible as they cower under the counter desk of the pharmacy section of the Walgreens. She can’t hear much past the whirling winds and her racing heart, but somewhere in there, she hears a hard grunt. She looks up at Carlos, still hovering over her, doing his best to protect her, but she sees pain clouding his expression.

“Are you okay?” she shouts, worry spiking her pulse as she sees a trail of blood rolling down the side of his face.

“Something hit me in the head and my back,” he grits out as the winds begin to calm down. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine; you’re bleeding,” she points out, not sure if he’s noticed yet. Given the way his eyes widen when he touches his hairline, she doesn’t think he has. She goes to say more when the walls around them let out a loud groan followed by a series of bangs as more of the place falls down around them.

She closes her eyes, tucking her face into Carlos’ shoulder.

Carlos pulls her closer to him in return, and she’s thankful for the kindness as she hides in his frame. If this is the end, she realizes she doesn’t actually want to see it.

A few minutes pass like this as she waits for it to end, be it the disaster or her life, she’s not really sure, but slowly the howling lessens until it’s only a dull echo in her ears.

“Nance – it’s stopping,” Carlos says softly, giving her a slight shake, bringing her back to the present.

Slowly she pulls back, surprised she can still see, realizing that somehow the lights have managed to stay on, flickering, but on. She looks at Carlos to find him giving her a concerned look.

“Well,” she starts to say, licking her lips nervously. “That was terrifying.”

Carlos lets out a chuckle that quickly turns into a hiss.

“What, what is it?” she asks quickly as she watches his face go slightly grey.

“I – I think,” he stops, closing his eyes but not fast enough to hide the pain from her. “I think something is in my back?”

“What?” she squeaks out. She moves to her knees, her hands hovering over Carlos’ shoulders as he sits down on the floor with a heavy sigh. Going around him, she starts to probe him, stopping short when she feels something hard and jagged by the right side of his flank. She swallows a gasp as she realizes what it is.

“How bad?” he questions, his voice tight as the obvious pain starts to set in.

“It’s – it’s glass,” Nancy whispers with dread as she notices the patch of blood on his shirt is growing.

Carlos lets out a weary sigh. “Of course it is,” he mutters dryly. “TK is going to be so pissed.”

Nancy ignores his comment, starting to get up from under the desk counter. “Okay, we need to get you out of here,” she says, just for Carlos to let out a chuckle.

“Hate to burst your bubble, but I’m pretty sure the front of this place collapsed, trapping us back here,” Carlos says far more calmly than she feels the moment merits. “We are lucky the walls dividing the back of the pharmacy and the front held up – protecting us.”

Nancy looks through the counter’s window, where she would usually wait for her prescriptions to be filled, and realizes he’s right. Carlos pushing them behind the counter saved them, but now the whole front is a maze of rubble with no apparent way out.

“Fuck me,” she swears, feeling the frustration and panic build inside her. She lets it for a second before pushing it aside. She’s a trained paramedic, and right now, her main priority is making sure she stops Carlos’ from bleeding out. She looks behind her, letting out a relieved breath to see that the space they are in is relatively sound. If she’s going to be trapped with an injured person needing her care, there are worse places to be than a fully stocked pharmacy.

“Check your phone, Carlos,” she says to him, already on the move. “I’m going to get supplies to care for your injuries.”

She gets a grunt back from Carlos and takes it as an okay as she steps over the mess of pills and supplies on the floor and thanks whatever higher power might be watching over them when she finds bandages, alcohol, and even a pair of scissors in her search. She makes her way back to Carlos to find him hunched over, his expression dazed as he stares at his phone.

“Carlos?” she questions, repeating his name louder when he doesn’t answer right away. He blinks in her direction, and she can see he’s not all there with her. She ignores the trickle of fear that runs up her spine as a result. “Did you get through to anyone?”

Carlos shakes his head slowly. “The lines – they’re not – “

“Okay, that’s okay,” she rushes to reassure him as she comes to sit in front of him. She takes ahold of his face, feeling the tackiness of the drying blood on his head. Two injuries then, she makes a note. “We’ll try again after I bandage you up, okay?”

“I’m tired, Nance,” Carlos answers, his speech becoming slurred, and Nancy adds likely concussion to the list. “My side hurts, and my head.”

“I know, hon,” she answers with what she hopes is a comforting tone. “But I’m going to fix it, okay?”

Carlos blinks at her slowly. “Sleep.”

Carlos looks at her with wide eyes before slowly reaching up to touch her face, startling her as she realizes that it’s wet from tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed. “Don’t cry, Nance.”

“Then stay awake,” she answers back, letting out a shaky smile when he gives her a solemn nod in return with an ‘I promise.’

“Okay,” she says softly, letting go of his face to turn to his back. “I’m going to clean and pack the wound. We can’t take the glass out because you’ll probably bleed more, but we can secure it.”

“Okay,” Carlos answers, giving her permission.

“Sorry about your shirt,” she says quickly as she starts to cut it up the middle.

Carlos lets out a hiss as she pours the rubbing alcohol over the wound. It’s thankfully not as big as she initially thought, but she winces when Carlos lets out a shout as she starts to press the gauzes around it. She tries to think of a way to distract him from the pain, letting out a quick breath when it comes to her. “Talk to me about TK,” she instructs him, hoping it will achieve the goal.

“TK?” Carlos questions sluggishly.

“Yeah, tell me about him, about the two of you,” she says as she rolls out more bandages.

Carlos lets out a sigh. It has the same sappy sound that she hears when TK talks about Carlos or is on the phone with him. “I just love him so much,” he answers, and even though she can’t see his face, she knows he’s smiling through the pain. “He’s beautiful and kind, silly and sweet, and when he looks at me the way he does, I feel like I’ve won the lottery. I’m so lucky he loves me back.”

Nancy smiles at the comment; she’s heard TK say the same exact thing. She tells Carlos as she makes a quick finish of securing his wound before moving to face him and deal with his head injury.

“He has?” Carlos questions her with a boyish grin, looking loopier, his eyes heavy. “That’s good. I bought him a ring; now I just have to work up the nerve to ask him to marry me.”

Nancy stares at Carlos for a moment, sure that he wouldn’t have revealed that if he was in all his five senses.

“Are you sure I can’t sleep?” he questions quietly, swaying towards her.

Nancy shakes her head at him, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Not when she can see that his eyes are rolling back, and she has just enough time to keep his face from meeting the floor as he slumps forward.

“Carlos!”

֎֎֎

Nancy has grown to hate the sounds and smells of hospitals. She thinks she’s lucky to not be a doctor or a nurse and not have to be in one every day, but she’s still in them enough because the people she cares about are danger magnets, and she hates it.

They get rescued not long after Carlos has passed out, but it still feels like eons to her. She rides in the ambulance with him, ignoring the paramedics that want to look her over in favor of holding Carlos’ hand. She doesn’t let go until she absolutely has to in order to allow the doctors to work, and she doesn’t break down until she sees TK walk through the hospital doors with a panic-stricken look on his face.

She cries on his shoulder, feeling horrible that he’s comforting her when it’s his boyfriend who is hurt. Fresh tears spring up when he hugs her tight, thanking her for saving the man he loves, and even though he tells her to go home, she waits until Carlos opens his eyes again.

She doesn’t have a home anyway; her neighbor left a message telling her the tornados destroyed her place, luckily he managed to get her cat out, watching over her until she can get back.

She sits in one of the uncomfortable but familiar chairs as the 126 and Carlos’ parents come and go in the later hours, all the while she remains next to TK as they wait for Carlos to wake up. It’s late at night, and TK has fallen asleep next to her when Carlos finally opens his eyes, and Nancy springs forward, rushing to his side, holding her breath as he slowly blinks to consciousness.

“Nancy,” he gets out roughly, and Nancy feels her eyes sting in return. “Are you okay?”

“You said you’d stay awake,” she accuses him as the tears roll down her face. “You promised.”

Carlos looks like he’s in pain, but it doesn’t stop him from giving her a kind look. He reaches out to take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I did. I’m sorry, Nancy.”

“You can keep calling me Nance,” she whispers, squeezing his hand back. “We’re friends now.”

Carlos smiles at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Very cool,” he says softly before looking past her at his sleeping boyfriend. “Is he okay?”

Nancy nods, giving TK a soft look of her own over her shoulder. “He’s strong, and he knew you were going to be just fine,” she says with a smile. “Let me wake him up.”

She starts to turn, only to be stopped when Carlos holds on to her hand. “What I told you – “ he begins, looking at her with those big brown eyes of his that endears him to everyone who meets him, herself included.

“I’m not going to ruin your surprise,” she assures him, chuckling when he lets out a breath.

“Thanks, Nance,” Carlos says, smiling once more.

Nancy returns it kindly. “Hey, what are friends for.”

#911 lone star #carlos reyes #nancy gillian #lonestarweekend #lsweekend2021 #tarlos fic #because they are still mention #even though this is a Nancy and Carlos friendship fic first #911 lone star fic #my writing

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bluejayblueskies · 4 years ago

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for prompt 1 of jontim week: rumors, introduction

cw for bullying/nasty rumors/talking about someone behind their back. tim is influenced by these rumors but he doesn’t contribute to or agree with them. all rude/insensitive comments happen in the past/off-screen.

The first thing Tim thinks when he meets Jonathan Sims is he’s shorter than I expected.

Though Tim doesn’t know what he expected, really. He’s not usually one to put much stock in rumors, but after the tenth time he’d heard the name Sims whispered in the break room or in the hallway in passing or in the area behind the Institute marked off for smoking, he got curious. Maybe it was because of just how different all of the rumors were.

He’s just so standoffish, don’t you think? I tried to say hello once, you know, just to be polite, and I don’t even think he looked at me. It’s a bit rude, don’t you think? I was just being nice.

I had to take a whole week off when my sister died—funeral arrangements and such—and he offered to take on my workload for the week. And you know, I really think he was sincere when he gave his condolences. He’s rather kind, when you give him a chance.

I swear, I left for lunch, and when I came back it didn’t look like he’d left at all. I invited him once, just to the canteen, and he got this look on his face and said no, thank you. It was polite, but—I don’t know, like being polite was an inconvenience?

Elodie—you know, she volunteers at that animal shelter in Brixton—said she saw him there one weekend, just- just staring at the cats. When she asked him if he was interested in any of them, he said his flat didn’t allow pets. Apparently, he sounded so heartbroken about the fact she nearly offered to write a note to his landlord to appeal for special consideration. God, can you believe it? Jonathan Sims, getting all teary-eyed over some kittens.

Despite his efforts against it, Tim had built up quite an image of Jonathan Sims, who he’d somehow managed to avoid actually meeting until his second week working at the Institute. Elias Bouchard’s week-long training program was boring, tedious, and way too invasive for a job that barely provides a living wage, and it kept him from doing any actual work (and from having access to the library, which apparently he couldn’t access until he was properly trained). By the time he finally got assigned a desk in the research department, he was tired and annoyed and itching to finally get some real work done.

He meets Jonathan Sims in front of the section of the library regarding circuses, the nametag clipped onto the lapel of his suit jacket just barely visible beneath the impressive stack of books he’s carrying. (He’s one of the only people who actually wears that stupid ID they give us, his mind supplies in the voice of Mark from the filing department.) After short, Tim registers in quick succession grey-streaked hair cropped close to his ears and thin rectangular glasses and dark purple chipped nail polish. (And, unhelpfully, the fact that none of the rumors had mentioned the fact that he’s hot, in that kind of bookish, professorial way.)

Then, Jonathan seems to notice that Tim’s there, and he takes a small step back from the shelves. “I’m sorry, am I in your way?”

His voice is deep, and Tim’s too busy thinking about that voice cooing at kittens to properly register his words at first. The pause is just shy of embarrassing when Tim finally says, “No, you- you’re good.” He eyes the stack of books in Jon’s arm with curiosity. “A little late-night reading material?”

Jonathan opens his mouth, then pauses and seems to shrink back into himself ever so slightly. “They’re for a case,” he says flatly, holding the books a bit closer to his chest.

(Don’t think he has much of a social life outside of this place, to be honest. I mean, heh, I really don’t either, but at least I go home at a reasonable hour.)

“You know,” Tim says brightly, “I think I have a few more I could recommend to you. I don’t know if they already have them in the library, but I could get you a list? Oh, or I could just let you borrow one? I have a few back at my place—I can bring them in for you if you’d like?”

Jonathan gives Tim a wary look. “That would be… very helpful, thank you.”

“Great!” Tim makes a mental note to stop by a bookshop (or ten) after work. “Oh, I’m Tim, by the way. I just started—I work in research.”

Jonathan seems to brighten at this, if only slightly, and Tim counts that as a win. “I suppose we’ll be seeing more of each other, then. I’m Jonath—er. Jon. You can call me Jon.”

Jon. Tim neatly disposes of every whispered rumor and false image attached to the name Jonathan Sims and replaces it with Jon. It fits more comfortably in his mind, fits better with the man standing in front of him who’s now smiling, if a bit tentatively.

“I don’t suppose they’ve assigned you a case yet?” he says, shifting his grip on the books as he does so. “If you’d like, I… I could request that you be added to this one. As you can see, it’ll be quite a bit of work, and I could use your expertise. Or even just a second pair of eyes at this point.”

(Not much of a team player, in my opinion. Tried to work a case with him last year and he wouldn’t even let me touch the files. Now, I don’t even try.)

“You’re in luck! As it happens, my schedule is completely open.”

Jon seems a bit surprised to have such ready agreement. “Right. I- I’ll get that arranged then.” He hesitates a moment, then says, “Would… would you like to take some of…?”

(Doesn’t ask for help. Thinks he has to do this job all on his own.)

Tim’s starting to get the feeling that he hasn’t heard a single completely true thing about Jon before now. (Well. Maybe except for the kittens. Tim really, really hopes except for the kittens.)

Tim takes half of the books and brings them back to Jon’s desk. The research is just as long and arduous as Jon said it would be, but it’s exactly what Tim’s been looking for—evil clowns and all. So he stays late that day, and then the next, and then the next after that.

Tim makes mistakes, and Jon is blunt when he corrects them, but not cruel or snappish. Tim suggests they stop for dinner and doesn’t push when Jon says (with unnecessary guilt) that it’ll interrupt his workflow. (Though Tim does begin to bring leftovers; enough for two.) Tim mentions offhand that he enjoys rock climbing, and Jon spends the next ten minutes asking Tim about his setup and where he likes to go and how much training he has to do, eyes wide and curious.

They finish the case. And when Jon hesitantly asks if Tim wants to work the next one with him as well, saying yes is as easy as breathing.

#tma #tma fic #the magnus archives #jontimweek #jontim #my fic #my writing #feeling kinda bleh about this one but it's late and i'm tired #lmk if need to cw for anything else!

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scribble-blog · 5 years ago

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Soulmate AU part 3!!

First • Previous • Here • Next

Side note, I’m a grandma in a 22 year old body who doesn’t understand technology. If somebody can teach me how to get readmores to work on tumblr mobile, and possibly how to start linking the posts together, I’d appreciate it!

Also, the taglist is now full! Though if people want, I could try doing a supplemental taglist? Either in a reblogged or in a separate post to notify you? Let me know in the replies!

Damian Wayne, as it turns out, is almost very certainly the son of Bruce Wayne, who sponsored their entire trip to Gotham. There are only two official pictures of him that are clear enough to truly check against, but Marinette sees the eyes and she nods. “That’s him.”

Trixx, Pollen, Kaalki, and Plagg are scattered about the bed, napping and lounging. Adrien also lounges, catlike and crosswise with the bed, entirely over the pillows at their back. Chloé holds the laptop that Marinette is hovering over, even from her seated position with her much smaller stature.

“It would be you,” Chloé snorts. “Oh, let’s just traipse over to America for a quick class visit! Oops, my soulmate is the incredibly handsome son of the incredibly wealthy man who invited us here!”

“Still more believable than you, Miss ‘My soulmate and I have literally been standing two feet from each other for weeks because not only do we have the exact same friends, but we’re part of the same superhero group and never realized until Ladybug allowed us to learn each other’s secret identities.’” Adrien doesn’t move as he calls her out, lazily curled into the warmth of his two friends and the pillows cocooning him.

“I don’t think any of us can speak,” Marinette groans. “I’m living a cheap rom com, Chloé’s got all the plot elements of a high budget Shakespearian drama, and Mr. ‘Didn’t know I wasn’t straight until my soulmate mark was a guys name” is straight out of a b movie comedy.”

“At least I got my act together pretty quickly once it occurred to me that I could like guys too,” Adrien points out. “And now Jon and I talk all the time, and he even comes to Paris sometimes to see me, or we’ll meet up for my occasional business trips in America. Which reminds me,” he pulled out his phone, sending off a quick text, “he wants to come meet you guys. Next week, while we’re all actually on the same continent.”

“Kudos to you for shaking off whatever Gabe tried to stuff your head full of,” Chloé says. “Took me ages to admit that I was gay, and that was even WITH my soulmark and both Marinette and Ladybug constantly in front of me.”

“Feeling pretty objectified,” Marinette protests.

“Oh shut it, I know for a fact that you’ve basically been the gay awakening crush of every not straight girl in our class. And several outside of it. And that’s not even counting all the dudes that fall in love with you.”

“I still object,” Marinette pouts at Chloé.

“Objection overruled.” Adrien sits up. “Marinette. You’re like, the perfect crush. They have a warning about you in the introductory packet for Mme. Bustier’s class.”

“They do not,” Marinette gasps, outraged. “I wrote that packet!”

“And then the class unanimously decided you were too dangerous to be walking around without a warning sign,” Chloé pinched her cheek. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s still in the packet despite Lila’s best efforts to get it thrown out.”

That does make Marinette feel better.

“Damian Wayne resurfaces after year of being believed dead,” Adrien reads from his phone. “Gotham’s Newest Wayne: The True Son! These all read like tabloids but as far as I can tell the Wayne’s don’t tolerate stuff like that. So I guess it’s true?”

“I’m tired of looking him up,” Marinette groans. “Can we just leave it be?”

“Nope,” Chloé pops the P. “Congrats, Dupain-Cheng, this is what friends are for.”

“I wish I could talk to Tikki about it,” Marinette sighs. “Especially because I have literally never heard anyone talk about that- electric feeling when we touched. Is it a Ladybug thing?”

Plagg opens one big green eye. “Cool it, Spots. It’s definitely a Ladybug thing. You’re literally the reason these marks exist.”

Marinette sticks her tongue out at the mini god. “I just miss her.”

“Join the club,” he grumbles, closing his eye and going back to napping.

“Good news,” Chloé says, bringing her attention back to the laptop. “Searching your name very easily leads to you, and our class, and the fact that we won the contest. So, unless he decides he’s not ready to meet you, you’ll have the chance to find him at the gala. Or at Wayne Enterprises. Or at any of the places the Wayne’s own, which is two-thirds of our trip destinations.”

“Oh god,” Marinette says. “What if he didn’t want to find me?”

Adrien, Chloé, and four Kwamis hit her at the same time, shoving her back into the bed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mari,” Adrien scolds her from his position atop the newly formed cuddle pile. “I saw his face too. If the boy isn’t already in love with you, he’ll be hunting you down just for the chance to fall.”

Trixx nuzzled into her side. “I may not be Tikki but all of us Kwamis know how incredible you are, Marinette.”

She sighed. “Alright guys, get off.”

———

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Tim already knew who the girl was, because he’d been curious when his favorite artist had started talking about the source of his newest looks.

But having Damian demand his help in searching for everything he could find on her, and then only asking for the bare minimum of information about her trip itinerary- Tim wasn’t an idiot.

“So. She’s your soulmate.” Tim takes a sip of the coffee he’d been working on, making a face and instantly setting it back down when he realized it had gone cold.

Damian carefully did not change his expression, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. “And so what if she is?”

Tim looked back at the monitor. “So nothing. Congrats, Demon Spawn. I’m happy for you.”

He barely caught the edge of the scowl the younger Wayne tried to hide.

“Hey, no.” Tim spun his chair to face Damian. “Look, we’ve had our differences and disagreements-“

“You had me on the superhero equivalent of a terrorism watch list,” Damian interrupted.

“And you literally tried to kill me within the first day of meeting me.”

“A byproduct of my indoctrination from birth into a murder cult,” His brother kept his face still but the tone was wry.

“You kept trying to kill me.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you!” Damian finally exclaimed, losing his collected demeanor. “Just-“

“Point being,” Tim stressed, “even if we haven’t always gotten along- haven’t ever, really- I’m still happy for you. Soulmates are a special thing. We all kind of thought you might not have one, with the way you always acted when Dick tried to ask.”

Damian forced down the immediate retort and looked at Tim. “I thought that maybe my dying would have prevented my name from showing up for them. And my teachings-“ he said the word with the inflection that meant he was discussing Assassin Upbringing rather than here- “were as such that most connections, be they familial, friendly, or romantic, were- unnecessary and even dangerous.” It felt tantamount to a betrayal of his younger self to confide anything in Drake like this, but... Damian really was, in many ways, a better and more mature person than the spoiled, aggressive, near sociopathic brat he’d arrived as seven years ago. He still kept the veneer of it up, but he was no longer the boy who needed to fight Drake to prove his worth as Bruce’s son.

Now he just waited for Drake to embarrass himself by passing out after staying up for far too long surviving on caffeine and energy drinks. Much easier.

And Drake didn’t ever seem as eager to blackmail and fight as Damian ever had, so he figured a small amount of vulnerability was a proper thank you for his discretion in finding Marinette.

Tim just took another grimacing sip of the cold coffee. “Man. In that case, even happier for you that you’re shrugging off yet another of the Child Assassin School’s upsetting and frankly terrible rules. Though as for the dying thing, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t actively die now that you have the mark.”

Damian shrugged. “Irrelevant now, as I will not be dying anytime soon, and neither will she. And she clearly knows that we’re soulmates.”

“Still confused about that,” Tim frowned, looking back at him. “You said there was an electric current between you? Or it felt like that?”

Damian couldn’t stop his hand from twitching, the memory of it clear enough to feel. “Yes. I don’t understand it myself either.”

“I’ll search around. See if anything comes up.” Tim handed him a pile of papers. “Here, the info you wanted on her itinerary, plus things I thought would be pertinent without going over whatever line you seem to have drawn.”

Damian took them, and very begrudgingly said, “Thank you,” before ducking out of the room.

He waited until he was back in his own room before flicking through them, finding the trip schedule and the hotel rooms listed, the names of her class and teachers, and finally a list of her accomplishments and a copy of the paper that had won her class the trip, authored by her.

He read through it, noting the names of her classmates and their own community efforts, and the way her own section in the paper was minuscule compared to both each other persons section and the list of accomplishments Drake had drafted.

One classmate had, if no less written than than any other person, a distinctly different tone to what Marinette had written, and most of her community building and service events were merely echoes or assisting what another person had done. Damian shrugged it off, as there were sometimes people who simply tagged along, and never put their own effort out there. Followers, and not leaders.

All in all, he found himself more intrigued than ever about her.

TAGLIST:

@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @jessigurl-design @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @kuroko26 @moonystars14 @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @area51qt @renscorpio @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @tired-butterfly @catthhay @shamefullove @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @bigpicklebananatree @abrx2002 @cici-schnee @multplelifes @shreky-boi @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person

#maribat #daminette #daminette soulmates #soulmate au #fanfic

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abundanceofsoph · 4 years ago

Text

SkyFire 3: Chapter 10

I’m free as a bird when I’m flying in your cage: Nov/Dec 2017

Word count: 3k

SkyFire 3 MASTERLIST

Please for the love of god, if you like the story just hit the reblog button. I really don’t know how to say it nicely but it’s really starting to bother me and maybe that makes me a dick but so be it.

>Instagram posts

Thankfully, after a day and a half of vocal rest, Harry was ready to go for the Manchester show and he very much dialled his performance up to 11 for his hometown crowd. Just as she had told Grimmy, Aurora stayed off social media in the days following the interview, but she heard from others that a small section of the fandom was absolutely furious with her and the social media manager that Mark had hired years ago to clear out her comment sections was working overtime to keep some of the nastier shit from her feeds. As much as Aurora herself was able to avoid it all together, she knew that a lot of her fans would be reading the comments and she wanted to keep it safe for them. Harry’s team was also working to keep his own accounts clear as well, and while they couldn’t hide from what was being said about them or Louis and Elanor, they could try to filter out the worst of it. This was the one part of celebrity that they all agreed was the worst. It was the unfortunate consequence of having such passionate fans. Ella had no such inclination to avoid the comment sections and was spending her free time picking fights with Larries and attempting to set them straight on the reality of Harry and Louis’ relationship as nothing more than brotherly love. Aurora tried to urge her to let it go, but unfortunately her best friend was feisty and easy to anger which was not a good combination with how overprotective she was about her loved ones. By the time they stepped out onto the Manchester stage, both Rori and Harry were happy to put aside the drama and focus on the music. Things started to cool down over the following week which took them up to Glasgow and then on to Stockholm, Berlin, Amsterdam, and Milan. By the time they returned to London on the 11th, the music video for Kiwi had been live for 3 days and the fans had thankfully moved on from Aurora’s interview in exchange for raving about the new video.

They spent the first few days relaxing at home before Rori headed to North London to meet up with Liam at the recording studio he liked to use to work on the song he had mentioned at Niall’s launch party. Aurora had spent the last few weeks listening to the demo on repeat while pouring over the sheet music Liam had emailed her. She was obsessed with the song and the two had been messaging back and forth constantly, discussing the arrangement and which parts each of them would take. Stepping back into a recording studio, even one she’d never visited before, felt like coming home after weeks on the road and her face lit up immediately as soon as she caught sight of Liam, wrapping her arms around him in a rib crushing hug.

“Ready to jump straight in?” he asked after letting her go.

“Absolutely,” she replied excitedly before following him as he introduced her to the producer and technicians that they would be working with for the following few days.

With a full week before Harry and Rori were due to fly to Shanghai, neither she nor Liam were on a tight schedule to finish the song. This meant that the environment in the studio was very chilled and there were many tangents and breaks taken while they worked.

“How attached are you and Lou to the lyrics?” Rori asked on their second day in the studio.

“Of course, you want to change something,” Liam laughed in a response. “Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Rori replied with a laugh of her own. “I am who I am.”

“I know,” Liam agreed. “So, show me what you’re thinking.”

“I’ve been tossing around the pre-chorus and I was wondering if instead of what you lads have there, instead we go with this.”

I'm free as a bird When I'm flying in your cage I'm diving in deep And I'm riding with no brakes And I'm bleeding in love You're swimming in my veins You got me now

“Well fuck,” Liam replied. “Think I need to stop writing with Louis and start writing with you more often.”

“You like it?”

“Rors, I love it,” he said. “It’s way better than what we came up with. Let’s get back in the booth and record it.”

They ended up spending four days finishing the song which left Aurora with a few remaining days to catch up with Ella and also relax at home with her husband before they were thrown back into work.

xXx

The day before they were set to fly to China, Aurora headed over to Ella’s flat in Wimbledon. “I brought cake,” she yelled as she let herself into the flat with the spare key Ella had given her when Rori first moved back to London.

“Fuck yes!” Ella cheered in response, her voice carrying down the hall from the kitchen. “I’m just making us tea,” she continued as Rori made her way inside. “Get yourself comfy on the sofa and I’ll meet you in there, babe.”

Rori made herself at home in the living room, Ella’s elderly tabby cat Elliot, immediately padding over to make himself comfortable in her lap.

“You were recording with Liam this week yeah?” Ella asked as she joined Rori on the sofa, placing mugs of tea in front of them. “How was it?”

“God, it was so much fun El,” Rori sighed. “I didn’t realise how much I missed being in the studio. I mean don’t get me wrong, I love touring and I’m having an incredible time on the road, but it felt so good to be back recording again and it just has me itching to write again.”

“You should make sure to do more of it over the Christmas break then,” Ella pointed out. “Speaking of which are you going to be in New York or are you coming home for winter?”

“We’re planning a bit of both. Christmas and my birthday in New York with my dads and then we’ll come back here for February before the tour kicks off again in March. I think Gemma and Anne are going to join us for Christmas too and then when we get back Liam and I have made plans to have a writing session together. ”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Ella nodded before taking a sip of her tea. “Selfishly I’m glad you’ll be spending a decent chunk of time here. I miss you.”

“Urggh,” Rori groaned. “I miss you too. Was thinking of maybe doing something for Harry’s birthday and getting you, Lou, Liam, and Niall over to our flat for a game’s night or something. I feel like Harry could use something a little more lowkey this year after the insanity of tour.”

“Don’t feel like you need to invite me,” Ella replied awkwardly. “I mean, if you’re inviting the band over, I’m not really part of that group.”

“Oh bullshit,” Rori laughed. “They boys love you just like I do. You all get along great whenever we were all together for wedding stuff or the album launch. Why on earth would you feel like I shouldn’t invite you too?”

“Rori,” Ella sighed. “While yes, I have gotten along with yours and Harry’s friends in the past, that doesn’t mean that I run in the same circles as they do. They’re celebrities, you are a celebrity and I just think that sometimes you forget that I’m just your old friend from school. It’s two separate worlds that you live in.”

Aurora rolled her eyes in response, taking a sip of her tea while she compiled her rebuttal. “That’s such a load of shit El. They are mine and Harry’s friends and so are you. When we are away from the paparazzi, they are no different to you and me. I get that we grew up with their pictures on our bedroom walls but once you put that aside they’re just a bunch of really great guys that I think could become your close friends too if you let them in and stop freaking out around them.”

“Ok fine,” Ella agreed after a moment of silent staring between the two women. “I’ll try to get over myself and give them a chance next time we’re all in the same room. Can we change the subject now?”

“That’s all I’m asking for and absolutely we can change the subject. How’s things with Tim? Feel like we haven’t talked about him in a while.” Ella made a face and Aurora felt her heart break for her best friend. “When?” she asked softly. “What happened, love?”

“He broke it off a few weeks ago,” Ella explained. “Said he didn’t feel a spark or something.”

“I’m sorry babe, things seemed to be going so well when I left for the tour.”

“They were. At least I thought they were. We barely made it past 3 months before he gave up.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were half a world away having the best time,” Ella replied. “If I’d told you then you would have just felt guilty for not being here.”

“And now instead I feel guilty for not even being able to be a sympathetic ear since I couldn’t provide a shoulder. How are you now?”

“I’ll be ok. I’ve been a bit down in the dumps, but I think it’s for the best. He made some good points about me not really knowing what I wanted and he’s right. I think I’m gonna swear off dating until I really figure out who I am and what I’m looking for.”

“Well if you ever want help figuring out who you are, I think I know you pretty well by now.”

“I might take you up on that offer,” Ella said with a small smile before changing topic. “Now enough moping, you said you brought cake with you? You are never going to believe the scandal that’s broken out amongst some of the girls in my Colonial History class.”

xXx

Occasionally something would happen in Aurora’s life that would give her pause and remind her how incredibly ludicrous her life had become. Standing behind her keyboard in the middle of a Victoria Secrets show in Shanghai while her husband sang and danced his heart out in front of her while literally supermodels strutted past them was one of those moments.

It was hard for her to believe that only 2 days ago she was sitting on her best friend’s sofa eating a chocolate cake from Sainsbury’s and discussing the latest high school drama playing out in Ella’s classroom. She found herself thinking about how her mother would react if she somehow had a way to travel back in time seven years and tell her about this moment and all the other life changing moments that had occurred since they parted. It was while her thoughts were caught on her mother that Harry turned, catching her eye, a mile-wide smile lighting up his face as he winked at her, causing her own smile to grow in response. No matter how strange her life had become and how much everything had changed since she was an average teenager living above a small bar, she knew that she wouldn’t change a single thing that had happened if it meant ending up here with Harry smiling at her like that.

xXx

Following the Victoria Secrets show, the band arrived in Singapore early and spent a few days exploring before their show there after which the flew on to Australia, a country that Harry had toured many times over the years with One Direction, but Aurora had never managed to visit herself. They had a week in the land Down Under, with shows in both Sydney and Melbourne and Aurora made it her mission to see as much as she could of the 2 state capitals, often dragging Harry or other members of the band along on her adventures. Given that it was the last week of November everywhere was getting into the Christmas spirit, however since it was the southern hemisphere the weather was scorching hot and the group found the combination highly entertaining, if somewhat baffling.

While in Sydney they took in the iconic sights such as Bondi beach, the Opera House, and the Harbour Bridge, as well as a day trip out to explore the Blue Mountains. In Melbourne they visited the Eureka Tower with it’s Skydeck that offered an amazing view of the city spread out beneath them. They also spent some time at the Melbourne Zoo and National Gallery of Victoria, then the day after their show at the Forum, they were taken on a drive out of the city and down along the coastal Great Ocean Road.

The tour stop in Auckland was similarly packed out with touristy opportunities where Aurora’s highlight was the art gallery Toi o Tāmaki. While the laid back vibes in both Australia and New Zealand captured Aurora’s attention, it was the week they spent in Tokyo that held Harry’s, so much so that while everyone else headed home the day after the last show, the young couple made a last minute change to their travel plans and extended their stay by an additional week to explore the city more.

Once again, Tokyo was somewhere that Harry had visited many times with the band while Aurora had never been, and he enjoyed to opportunity to show her his favourite parts. Something Aurora noticed almost immediately about Tokyo was that unlike in the US or the UK, people either didn’t recognize them when they were out and about or they did but respected their privacy and left them alone. She pointed this out to Harry on their second day wandering the city streets and he smiled back at her, agreeing that it was something he’d also noticed in a previous visit and had definitely played a role in him falling in love with the city.

They spent their days wandering the streets, ducking into quirky shops that caught their eye and just revelling in the normalcy of being together in public. As they walked, they both realized that they had never had this; a chance to be like everyone else crowding the sidewalks around them. Save for stolen moments in the early days of their relationship like their first date in Hampstead Heath or when they were able to sneak into galleries on quiet days, they’d never really been able to be themselves within a crowd. They’d always needed to wrap a scarf that little bit higher around their chins or wear a hat a little lower on their heads or glasses a little bit larger. To walk hand in hand like any other couple was freeing in a way that Rori hadn’t realized she’d been missing, and she soaked up every moment of their time in Tokyo. If only for a week she felt like she was living the life she would have had if her mother hadn’t died. If she had continued living as a normal girl from Wimbledon instead of being thrust into the spotlight, free to live her life without the scrutiny of the press and the public. Of course, it wasn’t lost on her that the man holding her hand wouldn’t be Harry in this parallel universe and for that she would happily trade in her freedom. She could accept that the price she paid to be married to Harry and be Steve and Tony’s daughter was that she would never really be allowed to have this normality, so she simply tried to make the most of their time before they flew on to New York for Christmas. They never spoke about any of this during their little vacation away from their lives but even without voicing her thoughts, Rori was certain that Harry was thinking the same thing and would willingly make the same sacrifices for the life they had built together.

xXx

Both Aurora and Harry were exhausted by the time they reached New York and were grateful to find Happy waiting for them as soon as they exited the arrivals terminal at JFK. He offered a quick hug to Rori before collecting their bags from them and leading them to the town car waiting for them. She leant against Harry in the back seat as they made the hour long drive into Manhattan. Her blinks began to lengthen as the airport shrank in the rear-view mirror and she was fast asleep before they reached Queens. Harry had to gently coax her awake once they finally reached the tower and she slowly made her way out of the car and into the elevator up to the penthouse. Tony and Steve were waiting up for their arrival and excitedly pulled their daughter into tight hugs the moment she stepped out of the elevator. It was Steve that noticed the way both Rori and Harry’s eyelids seem to droop and their gazes glazed over while Tony asked them a dozen questions about their recent adventures, and Rori was grateful when her Pops shooed them both off to bed with promises that they could catch up properly over a homecooked breakfast the next morning. They were barely conscious by the time they stripped out of their clothes and crawled into bed, however Aurora remained awake just long enough the think about how good it felt to be home.

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

#skyfire fic #Husband Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #dad!tony #domestic fluff #iron dad #step dad steve rogers #aurora stark #harry styles #tony stark #live on tour

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jasonrae117 · 4 years ago

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Night at the Wayne Casino

PART 6

Here we are, Part 6! Sorry this doesn't have much in the damirae department, but there will be more! I also wanted to see if anyone would be interested in a sort of behind the scenes chapter of the more mature stuff (what happened in Damian's suite) etc. that happens throughout. I'd post it on my ao3 account for those that want to read something ~saucy~ like that. Let me know! 💙💜💚

Damian had dressed himself and wanted to drown himself in his work. His mind was pulled in every direction and he was utterly conflicted. He had stared blankly out the window for an hour trying to process everything that had happened since the party and where it had all gone so wrong. Of course he knew it was his fault that his plan backfired. He had slipped and slept with the demon he was trying to expose.

It was strange, he felt less motivated to bring her down, and the thoughts that occupied his mind when he recalled their�� encounter, were about how badly he wanted to fix things, not about figuring out her next move as it should have been.

He had forgone his morning workout, seeing as though he and Raven took care of that some hours before and he had slept in late. He figured he may as well head in early to work because he desperately wanted the distraction.

He was almost in the clear to the security office when a large figure accompanied by a smiling face intercepted him.

“Jon, now is not the time.” Damian tried to brush past him, but Jon was quick and kept his pace and swung an arm around his shoulders.

“There’s always time for your best friend, especially when you need to tell him all the details from last night.” He waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner and Damian scoffed at him.

“Grow up Kent. I don’t have to tell you anything. It wasn’t official business, therefore I have no need to brief you on what happened. Not that anything did.” He was quick to throw in the last part to avoid any misunderstandings of his words.

“Aw, c’mon Dami, this isn’t work. I wanna know as one of the guys, as your best friend. That’s got to give me some clearance to what’s going on in there.” Jon used the arm around his shoulders to pull him down and ruffle his hair.

Damian grunted and forced himself out of Jon’s grip. He straightened his collar and ran a hand through his now unkempt hair. “Being an asshole won’t get you anything. Besides there’s nothing to tell. I observed her and besides countless men hitting on her, there unfortunately wasn’t anything suspicious. Now would you leave me alone.”

“And how exactly would you know that I’m lying?” Damian had stopped his movements and his voice was low. almost threateningly so.

“Damian,” he whined. “You can trust me. I know when you’re lying… well sorta, but the point is I know you’re not telling the truth.” He crossed his arm over his chest and looked down at him.

A nervous laughter escaped Jon and he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Well...you see I kinda sorta was monitoring people coming and going from the elevator on that floor. It was a slow night and Dick had everything under control.”

“What exactly do you think you saw?”

“I saw you show up and a few hours later I spotted Raven. Then I saw you both enter the elevator together and uh...get close. Then you both left pretty excitedly, and well...one can only assume.” He trailed off.

“Well your assumption is incorrect.” Damian growled out. Internally Damian was panicking, he didn’t want to lie to Jon, but it was his only chance to get out of this mess unscathed.

“Damian,” Jon almost sounded disappointed, “I tried to give you the chance to tell me on your own but you’ve given me no choice.”

“What are you-”

“Raven told me everything. Well everything from her perspective. And I gotta admit bud, you don’t look too good.” Jon shrugged dismissively and began to walk away. Damian, however, was stunned. She had gone to his best friend to get her story in first so it would be harder to prove ill intentions, that sneaky witch.

“Whatever she said is probably a lie. Some fantastical story she made up to make me look bad.”

“As much as I want to believe you, and truly I do...I can’t help but feel that her story sounded fairly accurate. Given how well I know you.”

“What the hell does that mean? Tell me what she told you!”

“I have no obligation to brief you on what she said, best friend or not.” Great Jon was being cheeky. What the hell was with people finding a way to use his own words against him?

“Jon, you tell me now or so help me.” Damian snatched his by the front of his shirt, not caring that it would leave it a wrinkly mess.

“Fine, fine, relax. We’ll talk in the security office.” Jon frowned at his wrinkled shirt but reluctantly followed Damian to their shared office.

This one was slightly different from the room Tim used. It had two desks each with a state of the art computer that also had access to the security camera feed. Behind each desk were large cabinets of files from all cases they’ve had throughout the years. Tim’s had more of the recent and ongoing hardcopies, but they were shared electronically, this office was more of an archive section. It also doubled as a semi-interrogation room.

Damian took his seat behind the desk and folded his hands together as if preparing to listen to a business report. Jon on the other hand was pacing until he settled for leaning against his own desk. Damian looked at him expectantly and stayed silent waiting for Jon to begin.

“So..uh, Raven said that she showed up to the party late because she was trying to get ready but was interrupted by her boss. When she got there, all sorts of guys were approaching her which was starting to get on her nerves until you popped up.” Damian leaned forward gaining interest. “She was surprised to see you there and not on duty. She mentioned that you were handsome and charming by the way.” A heat rose to his ears. “Then she said after a drink and some flirting you invited her back to your suite. She was pretty excited when she was telling me this. She told me that she thought you were hot when she ran into you that first night...so uh there’s that. Now where was I?”

“Raven was excited that I invited her to my suite.” Saying it outloud made it too real and his blush deepened as he cleared his throat. He held a hand up gesturing for Jon to continue.

“Get on with it Kent.” This was absolutely humiliating, having their night together thrown back in his face by his friend.

“Oh right, well then she said you made the first move, kissing her and adamantly trying to remove her clothes. Apparently you ripped her dress?” Damian glanced away and tugged at his collar. He remembered being so impatient with the material, he wasn’t sure how to properly take it off, he just knew it needed to come off. “So that’s a yes. Anyway, then after hours of screwing her, of which I must commend you, she said you were quite formidable and were very attentive, you both were tuckered out and fell asleep. She said she asked if you wanted her to go, but you ignored her and cuddled...Who knew Damian Wayne cuddled?”

“Geez alright. Well then she gets up in the morning to take a shower and clean up and when she comes out you are right outside the door completely shocked. At first she thought you had been drunk and forgot what had happened but it turns out that you were aware and had completely dismissed what had happened between you two.”

“I wouldn’t say I dismissed it-”

“You said it was a misstep.”

“I-”

“Did you not?”

“I mean I did, but I was being honest!” Damian rose to his feet.

“You weren’t being honest, you were being an asshole. Then you get mad at her for using your computer! Like what the actual hell?”

“She wasn’t supposed to use it, and now she had access to the security footage and who knows what she did with that access.” His eyes went wide as he took in Jon’s face. Jon’s eyebrows were furrowed and his head tilted while he was processing what Damian had just revealed. I guess she didn’t tell him why I was pissed that she used my computer. He had just told Jon on his own.

“Why do you have the feed transmitting to your personal computer?” Jon pushed off against the desk and was now standing, only a desk separating the two.

“I like to know what’s going on around the casino.” He shrugged.

“Damian, this is serious. That is totally not acceptable. It certainly isn’t protocol, and it breaks at least a dozen policies. Do you think I can’t do my job well enough without you?”

“Jon, it isn't about that. I just like doing my job. My computer software is encrypted so nobody can access it or see it unless I want them to.”

“Nobody except Raven.”

“That was an accident. I didn’t lock the program. It won’t happen again.”

“Damian, it shouldn’t have happened at all! You’re supposed to be the leader. You sure as hell have given the rest of us enough lectures about what’s acceptable and what’s not. And then you have been doing this the whole time? Do I even want to know what other shit you might be doing off the clock?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“You need help Damian, that or a stable relationship.”

“Would you stop!”

“You need to make this right.”

“I can’t get rid of the software Jon. You’ll never know how helpful it has been in keeping this casino safe.”

“Yeah, but it’s not right. Think about if it got out! Huh? We could be in so much trouble and in lawsuits up to our eyeballs.”

Damian hadn’t thought too much on the matter, he always assumed he would never be caught. The failures kept piling on.

“And that’s not the only thing I’m talking about fixing.” Jon sighed. Damian just shot him a quizzical look. “I’m talking about Raven. It’s clear you’re attracted to her and she is to you. You’re letting your stupid overanalytical brain mess up something potentially good for you.”

“She’s not ‘good’ for me, I hardly know her.”

“You seem to have gotten to know her fairly well last night.” Damian glared at him. “In any case, you can’t leave it like this. You were wrong about her and treated her like an ass. You need to apologize.”

“She’ll be gone in two days, what do I care how she feels about me or if she’s upset? This is her first time and probably last time in Vegas. I’ll never see her again.” The prospect of that statement made something inside twinge strangely.

“You could try to see her again. You know, long distance relationships. Who knows she may live somewhere close.”

“She lives in Seattle.” Jon looked at him surprised. “What? She was a suspect and I needed more background on her.”

“Hmm...funny, you said she was a suspect. Are you finally relinquishing that crazy theory?” He now smiled broadly, seeing that Damian was finally coming around.

“I suppose she has shown no more clear signs of being a threat.”

“Great! So will you go apologize to her now?” The peppy and energetic Jon had returned much to his dismay.

“I’m not using company time for personal matters.” He spoke flatly.

“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing that you’re not on the clock for another hour and a half. Now go, before I force you, and that will just be more embarrassing for you.”

“Please Kent, you can’t force me to do anything. But I suppose that I can’t leave an unhappy guest if it’s my doing.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Whatever gets you to do it.”

Damian dragged his hand over his face and groaned. He hated apologizing, he hadn’t had much experience since he rarely found times that he was wrong and the situation actually called for it. He moved to the door to begin his quest.

“Oh, and we’ll have a discussion about the use of company software on personal devices later.” Jon had called after him.

The door shut behind his and his shoulder slumped. He could feel a headache coming on. Well, I better get this over with so I can get on with my life and get to work. He guessed that she would still be in her room avoiding the risk of running into him so soon after their fight. He stopped by the cafe and picked up an order of tea and a chocolate croissant as a peace offering and then made his way to her room.

Suddenly he was right in front of her door and he realized that he hadn’t even thought about what he was going to say. His throat felt dry and he seemed to be too warm. This is a bad idea, she doesn't want to see me. She probably doesn't even care. What if she isn’t even in her room? He paced outside for a few minutes before he heard a muffled voice coming from the inside of her room. He felt only slightly creepy as he pressed his ear to the door to listen to what was being said. It was definitely her voice and an indistinct voice on the phone.

“Yes, I’ve gotten quite a bit of research done, but it’s not quite going the way I wanted.” The other person sounded irritated by the inflection of the muffled sounds. “The participants gave me some information, but none of it is really useful for us. Perhaps we should look elsewhere….I don’t know maybe another casino? Look, it’s your job to find someplace we can actually work with. It’s my job to survey and collect data and tell you if it's worth the investment or not.” The voice grew louder and he heard a loud exhale from the woman. “I’m telling you that I don’t see a good outcome of working at this casino, and that’s my professional opinion. Have I ever let you down?” She was clearly agitated. “Great, I’ll be coming home Tuesday and I’ll wrap up my report by the weekend.”

The creak of the bed signaled that she was done with the conversation and had sat on the bed most likely out of annoyance and irritation. Was it really the best time now? Now or never he supposed. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

A moment passed before the door finally swung open revealing a tired looking Raven. Her hair was thrown up into a messy bun and there was a small smudge of mascara under her eyes. Most intriguing to him, however, was the navy silk robe she was wearing. You’re not here for that. She cocked her hip and raised her eyebrow in question.

“Damian.” She said curtly.

“Miss Roth. I came to..uh..apologize.” He held out the now barely warm tea and croissant. Her face lit up with surprise taking the items into her own hands. She still eyed him skeptically, but took a step back gesturing with her hand that held the croissant for him to enter.

“Sorry for the mess, I’m between packing up for my return trip and figuring out what to wear tonight.”

“I’m sorry for my intrusion to your plans, maybe I should come back-”

“No.” She commanded. “You came here for a reason, and so you should see that through. I’m intrigued.” She took a sip of the tea and scrunched her nose a bit before hastily putting it down onto the nightstand. She proceeded to sit on the bed criss crossing her legs, allowing the robe to split open revealing lacy underwear. Damian quickly averted his eyes to her smirking face and his throat suddenly felt tight and his face felt hot.

He cleared his throat and began pacing, keeping his attention away from her alluring body.

"The way I proceeded with our engagement earlier was unjustified and I regret that I upset you. As a guest of our resort, it is my priority to make sure you are happy and content with your stay here." He chanced a glance at her face and was surprised to see it held astonishment and something close to disgust.

"You've got to be fucking joking." Damian blinked dumbly at her not understanding. "You're not...wow. Ok, try doing this," she spun her finger around indicating his speech, "again, but this time be a fucking man and talk to me like Damian. Not the head of security or son of the CEO. Otherwise get the fuck out."

Her face turned red with fury and she stood. Her arm shot out pointing to the door. "Get the fuck out now!"

Damian swallowed, he hated this. He hated that Jon convinced him to do this. "Fine, I'm sorry that I fucked you." The words had left his mouth in a rush and he even shocked himself at how it came out. He spun to her hoping he didn't just royaly fuck up this apology. Jon is going to kill me.

"Wait no. Raven, listen."

"You're not listening. I said get out, or do I have to call your friend to get you out. How dare you come here and say that to me."

"Would you stop. That's not how I meant it. I don't regret doing it, I regret how it came about."

She looked bewildered. "What do you mean how it came about?"

Shit, this is why he meant to come prepared. Well no use in hiding it now. "I wished it had happened naturally, like you and Tim." The words were bitter in his mouth and she licked her lips looking off to the side. "I...I was following a lead that you were a suspect in conning our casino."

Raven's head snapped to look at him, mouth open slightly. She shook her head and rubbed at her temples. "You're telling me that all of our encounters haven't been accidental and you've been stalking me because you think I was going to pull a fast one over your casino?"

"Essentially, yes."

"Who was in on this?"

"Tim actually logged it first when you had been winning probably more times than usual. But he quickly dismissed you, particularly when he found out you were single. The others in security knew about you because they were doing their jobs, but they didn't believe it to be true. And the girls at the spa knew after when I discussed it with them. Admittedly I was the last one unconvinced." He cast his stare at the floor finally feeling guilty at his stubbornness. Saying it out loud, he could hear how foolish he had been.

She released a humorless laugh. "Wow. I...I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I am sorry for how I behaved. I see the errors of my ways. I convinced myself you were still a suspect so that I had an excuse to learn more about you and get closer to you."

"If I wasn't so pissed off right now I'd say that's kinda romantic in a stalkerish kind of way." A ghost of a smile graced her lips.

"I know you're scheduled to leave Tuesday, but would you consider accepting a free four night stay? We'd even reimburse your plane ticket. Though we may have to upgrade your room if there's a reservation on it."

"Excuse me?"

"We'll the girls want you to join them for their plans on Friday. And it's the least we can to make up for the time you wasted being bothered by all of us. Namely me." He didn't know what made him offer her these things. He had never done such a thing for any other guest and it was actually a rather expensive apology.

Raven pursed her lips trying to weigh her options. "I suppose it would be foolish not to accept. But is your father alright with comping this?"

"I rarely care what my father is alright with. I'll see to it myself that it is all taken care of." He shuffled around a bit before nodding in her direction and making his way toward the door.

"Damian wait!" He stopped and watched her jog a few steps, closing their distance.

She fiddled with her hands as if trying to decide whether to use them or not. Damian quirked an eyebrow at this and just watched with anticipation. "I accept your apology." Her eyes were still on the floor.

"Thank you, I suppose I should leave you alone now." Raven's hands on his chest halted his exit.

He looked down into her mesmerizing indigo eyes and saw how they gleamed with mischief. She bit her lower lip and turned her gaze to her hands running smoothly over the plane of his chest sending a trickle of electricity through his body.

"What if I don't want you to leave me alone? I can think of another way you can make sure I hear your apology." Her eyes looked up at him through her dark lashes with a coy smile on her lips.

Damian smirked in response and pulled her in, relishing the way her body feels against his. He leaned in keeping a fraction of space between their lips. He could feel her chest rise and fall with heavy and excited breaths.

"Where do I begin?"

#raven #teen titans #damian wayne #damirae #demonbirds #robrae #night at the wayne casino #casino au #jon kent

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beholdme · 4 years ago

Text

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 14

Chapters: 14/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13]

One night, in the middle of a shift, Gerry gets a pounding migraine and goes to the back to have a cigarette. He knows it won't help, but he smokes it anyway and considers things as he paces the back room.

He's terrible at being sick, and it makes him miserable to be around. Still, the pain makes him ache for his partners, and he can't help picking up the phone to call Jon. It's close to midnight, but Gerry hopes that it won't be the one time Jon has gone to bed at a reasonable hour.

"Hello, Gerard," Jon answers the phone with an ocean of warmth in his voice.

"I miss you." Gerry presses his forehead into the cool window, seeking some sort of relief from the agonizing pressure in his head. He whispers the words like a confession, smokey breath fogging up the glass before him.

"What's wrong my love?" Just Jon's heady, seductive voice provides the emotional support Gerry was seeking, and he wishes he could sink into the words, the feelings behind them, and leave his fracturing body behind for a while.

"Nothing. Not feeling well is all. I just wanted to hear your voice." He sounds pale and washed out, even to himself.

"I'm still at the library, I'll come by and haunt you until your shift is over." Jon makes the offer very casually, although that fussy part of his personality that enjoys mothering Gerry and Martin shines through a bit.

"On a Friday, Jon? You should be home with Martin." He can't help but chuckle at his sweet idiot, even through the pain.

"Martin is out with Sasha and Tim for the evening, remember? I was hoping to stop by and tempt you over to mine tonight anyway." Far from being chastised for his workaholic tendencies, Jon injects all his fond affection into his tone. "Would you be interested in spending the night in a handsome man's bed?"

"Fuck yes. Obviously."

"Oh Gerry, my Gerry." Jon sing-songs into the phone. "Always saying just the right thing to make my heart skip a beat."

Gerry takes a moment to consider his state. He can barely see out of his blurry eyes, and the pounding in his ears makes him feel vaguely underwater. His forceful personality makes it hard for him to admit, but he knows he shouldn't be working like this, and that he'll be much better off with his lover than alone in his own flat.

"I'm going to beg off the rest of my shift, will you come fetch me?" He desperately tries to keep his words easy, but he comes off sounding rather plaintive.

"Yes, Gerry, of course." Jon is frowning audibly now, but he leaves his concern be for the moment. Gerry can hear him moving about, probably packing up his things. "I'm leaving right now, I'll be there soonest. Gerry?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Gerry squeezes his eyes shut tight. "I love you too, Jon."

Jon takes one look at Gerry's drawn, pale face, and calls them a cab.

Gerry doesn't offer even one argument, and a pit of concern opens up in Jon's stomach.

"Do you want to go back to your place, after all?" He asks, sliding his hands up Gerry's arms to rest on his shoulders. "Maybe you'll be more comfortable in your own space."

"No, let's go to yours." Gerry draws their foreheads together, standing out in the cool air of the street. "I like being in your space, with your energy and your things. Besides, how can I resist an invitation to your bed."

"Yes, all the cuddling we've done there must really make your heart skip a beat with lust," Jon responds drily.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Gerry tells him firmly.

The taxi arrives and they climb in. Gerry is several inches taller than Jon, but he manages to scoot down enough to lie draped over the smaller man. Jon notices with some amusement that Gerry has adopted a rather Saturn-like posture, curled around him like an extremely large cat in the limited space.

They arrive at Jon's building and trudge up the several flights of stairs and through his door. Jon drags Gerry firmly by the hand, worried that without the right forward momentum, he'll lay down on the floor and pass out. Jon, under no misunderstanding about his physical prowess, knows that once his lumberjack-shaped boyfriend goes down, he certainly won't be getting him back up.

They go straight to the en-suite, and Gerry strips down to his briefs, Jon encouraging him to wash his face and half-heartedly brush his teeth. Halfway through, Gerry lets out a startled chuckle.

"What?" Jon asks from nearby, changing by his armoire.

"I own three toothbrushes." He tells him in an airy, disconnected tone. "Don't you think that's kinda silly?"

"No, Gerry, what would be silly was if you only had one and you carried it everywhere you went because you weren't sure whose bed you might end up sleeping in that night." And indeed, the multiple toothbrushes solution had originated from them unexpectedly sleeping over at each other's flats with no planning- and no toothbrushes.

Gerry giggles again, and Jon begins to worry about what kind of bizarre migraine he might have. Having suffered through a fair few in his life, he is more used to them presenting like all-consuming misery than like some kind of weird foggy drug trip. Gerry could be unique that way, though.

"I never thought I would have so many bed options that it might be an issue," Gerry whispers, staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Changed into his sleep clothes, Jon goes over to stand behind him and wrap an arm around his waist. It's normally a Gerry or Martin posture, since Jon is smaller than them, but there's a different kind of satisfaction in having Gerry relax and settle into him, sighing with something akin to relief.

He looks at their reflection in the mirror and even with Gerry looking haggard, eyes sunken, 5 o'clock shadow coming in, hair thrown haphazardly into a messy bun, Jon can't help the swell of contentment that fills him. How did he, Jon 'walking disaster waiting to happen’ Sims, manage to get this right?

"Then I suppose it's a good thing my bed has been waiting for you all along," Jon eventually responds. "Come on, let's get you into it."

Gerry allows himself to be tucked in, although he refuses food and is only convinced with great reluctance to take two ibuprofen. His eyes remain stubbornly open, but the moment Jon finishes his own nighttime activities and slips into bed with him, Gerry curls around him, and promptly passes out.

The next morning, Gerry sleeps far longer than he normally would, even though he went to sleep several hours before his typical bedtime.

When he surfaces, approaching midday, he's groggy and stiff and feels rather hungover. Gerry thinks maybe a hangover would be better- at least then he would have had a good time to compliment his current misery.

Despite that, as he blinks his eyes open, the strains of gentle piano music drift through the flat, and he can't help the smile that spreads across his face. It’s not particularly loud, and Gerry is incredibly soothed by it. In fact, when he says he likes being at Jon’s flat, this is why. He often sits down to play in the softest moments, if Gerry and Martin are around. Any normal, oft-repeated, potentially boring activity could be made delightful and atmospheric if Jon is sitting at the piano.

Jon had once confessed that he vastly preferred playing when one or both of them were around to hear it.

"At least half of the joy of music is in the audience," Jon had confessed quietly to them one day. "And you two are the best audience of all."

Now, as he wakes gently to the sound of his partner making music, Gerry can’t help but feel special and treasured. Never before in his life had he picked up the phone in a crisis with the complete certainty that there would be a loving voice on the other end. He had not even realized he was lacking such reliability until he had come to be able to depend on it, but now that it exists, he shies away from even the thought that he might lose it again.

He takes a moment to consider the current reality of their relationship. He obviously loves them, has always loved Jon, from the moment he growled at Gerry in the literature section of the library when he was seventeen-years-old. Now Martin fits with them both so well, Gerry wouldn’t know how to breathe without him. They’re it for him, he can see that clearly.

He can see it in the way that pain and illness drove him straight to Jon like true north and the way he managed to care for him through it perfectly.

He can see it in the way that Martin never seems to be less affected by finding Gerry in his bookstore, and the way Gerry’s heart feels hot and heavy in his chest every time Martin finds him still and focused and takes a moment to braid his hair in one way or another.

He can even see it in the way he immediately self-destructed when he thought he was going to lose them, pushing every part of his life into immediate turmoil at the thought of being alone again. Family-less. Without his Jon, and his Martin.

And he can see that he’s it for them too, in the way they clung to him to keep him together when he almost sunk the whole thing.

They are, he can see now, as essential to one another as breathing.

Gerry suddenly wishes that this could be the home that they all share. He wishes that every time one of them came home to him, they never had to leave to do laundry or water plants. He wishes, most of all, that this music could fill his house and his heart every morning, and that he would never again have to wake up trying to remember whose bed he was in - because they all shared the same one.

He hopes, desperately, that one day that will be their reality. Maybe not tomorrow, but eventually, he’s confident he can convince he’s partners to stick around for good.

Until then, he’s content to be so loved that he needs three toothbrushes.

Gerry thinks maybe he drifts off again, because the next thing he knows, Jon is gently kissing his hand to wake him, a cup of tea in his other.

“Hi,” Jon whispers, sitting down on the bed next to him.

“Hey there,” Gerry offers in return, slowly sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. “How are you today?”

Gerry takes the tea and sips it gratefully, finding it sweet and herbal. Camomile, he thinks, but wouldn’t swear his life on it at that moment.

“How bad could I be?” Jon asks, a mischievous glint in his eye, “I have a beautiful boy in my bed and I think I’ll keep him there all day.”

“Does this stunning nocturnal visitor get a say in the matter or…?” Gerry manages to offer a slightly dimmer version of his flirtatious grin.

“Maybe, if he makes it worth my while.” Jon teases, before sobering a little. “How are you though? You seemed in a pretty bad way last night.”

“I think I’m fine now, I guess it was just a fluke.” Gerry stretches, joints popping.

Jon picks up the tea to take a sip.

“It’s not as good as when Martin makes it.” He mutters to himself, grimacing.

Gerry finishes stretching, rather like a cat again, before shifting up onto his knees to hover slightly above Jon, as is his preference. “Maybe, but it’s still my favourite kind of thing because it's something you made for me.”

Jon reaches up, wrapping a hand around Gerry’s neck and pulling his lips down to meet his own. It’s gentle and dragging, and they tangle together enjoyably for several minutes. Gerry pulls away to kiss Jon’s cheeks, his nose, his forehead. Eventually Jon giggles and pushes him away, handing the tea back over in an effort to distract him.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Jon queries.

“Not just yet. Maybe a shower?”

“That sounds like a good plan. You should take it easy today.” Jon pauses, considering his next suggestion. “And maybe I could convince you to take tonight off from the bar too? Then we can all spend the evening together.”

"Yes, I think I could be tempted to do exactly that."

Gerry lingers in the shower, letting the water work out his stiffness and lift the fog hanging pervasively over him.

He washes his hair with Jon's shampoo and hopes the scent will linger on him. He decides not to shave, feeling too loose and lazy to handle any sharp objects.

Jon force-feeds him after, and then he braids Gerry's hair to keep it out his face.

"I can't believe you never braided your hair before you met Martin," Jon says as his fingers move through his hair rhythmically.

Gerry shrugs. "There was never anyone to teach me on myself, and my mother was bald for my entire formative life, so I couldn't learn from her."

Jon hums in acknowledgement.

"Speaking of Martin, where is our errant lover?" Gerry asks buoyantly, bouncing slightly.

Jon laughs at him, "Apparently he was out all night and then crashed on Tim's couch. He's going to come over later when he's managed to disinfect himself."

After, they move back to bed to read their books and rest, basking in the simple comfort of each other's presence, waiting for their third.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #fic #also on ao3

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awhitehead17 · 4 years ago

Text

Universal Signs

Chapter 12 / Previous Chapter

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

When Tim wakes up, he spends a good amount of time simply staring at the ceiling of his room not doing anything. There’s a lot on his mind and it kind of makes him not want to leave the bed so he doesn’t have to deal with any of it.

Wouldn’t that just be easier? To simply avoid everything and pretend that there’s absolutely nothing wrong. Pretend that he was in his large open bedroom in the Manor instead of a supply closet on a spaceship. Pretend he was on Earth with his family and friends instead of floating through space with over-powered aliens. Pretend his enemies were the press instead of a whole league of killers potentially after him…

He shakes his head and lets out a moan. He can’t believe this is his life right now. What the hell is he going to tell his family once he gets back to Earth? Would they even believe him? That’ll be a bridge he’ll have to cross once he gets to it. For now he needs to decide on whether he wants to face the reality of his current situation or avoid it for as long as possible.

Unfortunately that decision is taken away from him as his room’s door opens up. Not even bothering to ask for permission, Kon walks into his room and stares at his sprawled out form on the bed.

Tim doesn’t bother getting up, he’s kind of gone the past the point of caring about impressions. Alternatively he curls up into a ball, wrapping the blanket tighter around him and shoots the alien a glare. “You know, we humans have a thing called knocking and waiting for permission before entering a room, also known as manners. Remind me to teach you about them at some point.”

Kon raises an eyebrow at him, Tim guesses that’s either because of his attitude or because of the subject. “Well hello to you too.” Kon says evenly. “You’ve been in here a while I thought I’d check on you but also invite you to join us while we train.”

“Train? Train for what?” Tim questions with a frown.

“Now we know that The League of Assassins may be after us, we thought it would be good to do more training to improve our fighting skills and strengthen our abilities. Would you like to join us?”

“I uh…” Tim blinks at him for a moment as he comprehends the question. Fighting? The only fighting he’s ever really done was dirty wrestling matches with his brothers and the self-defence classes he’s been through, however he admits he’s pretty good with a bo staff. On the other hand, he’s never actually been in like an actual proper fight before.

Plus there’s the fact of the fact these guys are aliens, he’s seen what they can do with their inhuman powers, what chance does he have?

Well, he’s always liked a challenge. “Sure, why not. It’ll be interesting.”

Smiling, Kon nods. “Great! When you’re ready just come on over.”

Kon’s manners are just as bad as they were when he first entered Tim’s room. The alien simply turns around and leaves, abruptly ending their conversation before Tim could question him further. He huffs in indignation. Manners; is that so hard?

At least these aliens are better than the ones he was imprisoned by, they didn’t even respect him like they do on this ship. Also another bonus of these guys and not the others (beside not being a prisoner) is that at least all three of them look human. On the other ship there were all kinds of creatures Tim had never even imagined seeing before. There were a couple human appearances but those people were simply assholes.

Somehow he finally finds the willpower to get up and out of bed. Once standing he does some light stretches to loosen his muscles before moving around his room to change into some clean clothing.

As he’s getting dressed he suddenly realises that his back hadn’t hurt at all, throughout all of that movement. Not once did it twinge in agitation or pain, he had actually forgotten about the wounds that had nearly ripped open his back.

If he had to guess he would say it’s been about three or four days since that incident happened. His internal clock is still haywire as he hasn’t yet worked out what time it would be. That cream the others have been putting on him has really done wonders if he’s already all healed up! Tim will get one of the others to check his back for him to make sure, but at least that part of his current life is over.

At this point, it’s all the little things.

Once changed, he exits his room and starts wandering down the corridor. Its only when he’s close to the common room that he realises he has no idea where they were training. He curses Kon for his abrupt leaving earlier and starts looking through every door he could.

On occasion he finds his mind getting distracted by the strange looking technology that fills up different rooms. He’s able to pull himself away before he gets too invested but makes a mental note to go back later on. He’s been on this ship for who knows how long and he still hasn’t explored everything yet!

Eventually he finds where the crew were gathered. Walking through the door, Tim stares at the room and takes it all in. On one side of the room there was some sort of simulator running. It takes up half of the room and currently has blue holographic bodies of all shapes and sizes running in different directions. There’s a blur of motion and suddenly the holographic bodies burst and disappear like sprinkles before reappearing elsewhere.

The second half of the room was split into three sections. One third had what resembled a variety of weights on a rack with different bench presses around it. The second third, the biggest of the three, simply had large mats placed on the floor. The final third had, from what Tim could see, a variety of weapons all stacked neatly in a large cabinet type of thing, it reminds him of something from a spy film when all the weapons get revealed from behind a closed door.

It was there on the second third that he sees Cassie and Kon. The two aliens were engaged in what looked like a hand to hand fight. He watches them with fascination as they kick, punch and dodge the other’s attacks. It looked like they were dancing, just a very fast and violent dance. Kon was brute force, putting all of his weight into his swings and kicks. Cassie, on the other hand, seems to be more agility based, dodging with speed and using a few different tricks to strike against Kon. With them two on the mats, that must make Bart the one in the simulator.

Tim stands there for a while watching the aliens spar with one another. It doesn’t even look like their tiring, which is insane, but eventually they spot Tim standing awkwardly at the doorway and soon stop to look his way.

“It’s about time. We thought you may have changed your mind.” Kon greets him with a smile.

Tim shrugs, “Nah, I’m not a chicken, I can handle a challenge.”

His comment gets him two identical confused looks, it’s then that Tim realises what he just said. Of course they wouldn’t understand the chicken reference, chances are that they don’t even know what a chicken is.

He sighs and waves a hand dismissing it, “Don’t worry, it’s an Earth saying. So, what’s the plan?” He glances around and sees Bart as a blur of motion on the other side of the room. He turns back to the others with a sudden thought, “How come I’ve never seen you guys train or even hear you mention it before?”

They both blink at him for a moment before catching up with his questions.

“We’re going to put you in the training simulator to see what you can do and go from there.” Cassie tells him pointedly.

Tim makes an ‘oh’ shape with his mouth but doesn’t comment. Her tone of voice was one to not argue against.

“As for why you haven’t seen us train is because we happen to train at random intervals. We often train individually or when we do train together I believe most of the time you happen to be sleeping.”

He guesses that explains their absences when he couldn’t find them sometimes. He never really even thought about them training or doing some sort of abilities practice.

Cassie studies him for a moment before turning to go over to the stacked weapons. “So what weapon would you like, we have a wide variety but whatever you feel comfortable with you’re welcome to use.”

Tim blinks before making his way over to her side and has a proper look at the weapons. There’s so much that stands out to him, plenty of things that he’s never seen before however his eyes drift to the plainest thing on the shelf and something he is familiar with. A bo staff.

Tim reaches out and picks it up, feeling the weight of it in his hands. It’s lighter than he expected it to be and wonders what it was made of, it looked like it was made from some kind of wood but there’s a high chance that he wouldn’t actually know the material used.

“This will do.” He declares looking at her.

Cassie gives him a funny look but doesn’t comment on it. She gestures to the other side of the room and makes her way there, Tim follows closely behind. Bart was now out of the simulator, having left it while Tim was choosing his weapon. The speedster was stood next to Kon and was speed talking away in the Kryptonian’s ear.

The two of them get to the other side of the room and Cassie stops, not knowing what else to do, Tim stands beside her. He watches with bewilderment as she brings up a holographic screen that materialises from out of nowhere and starts playing around with it.

Tim stares at it for a moment, not having any idea on what she was doing, before looking away and back at the staff in his hands. He twists it a couple times when a sudden though appears in his mind. “Hey what happened to that metal pole I had? The one I carried around when you first picked me up?”

Cassie shoots him a raised eyebrow before turning back to what she was doing. “Why does it matter? I have no idea.”

Tim shrugs, trying to think of the answer. He liked that pole, even got attached to it. “It, uh, doesn’t really… I was just wondering.”

“You dropped it when we got attacked by the Galavent. It got left behind and we didn’t think about it because we were trying to make sure you didn’t die!” Bart says blurring next to him.

Tim takes a moment to catch up with what happened and nods in understanding. So that’s what happened to the pole, shame, he liked that pole. It helped him find some kind of balance while he wrapped his head around everything that was happening with his life.

Cassie turns to him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Ready?”

Tim glances at her, at the simulator and back again. He swallows suddenly feeling nervous and jittery. “What do I have to do? Will it hurt me?”

“Different holographic shapes and figures will appear around you, all you have to do is fight them off and not get touched. If they do touch you, it may sting for a moment.”

Tim slowly nods in apprehension. Is it too late back out? He’s not sure if he wants to do this. A side-ways look shows him all the aliens are looking at him expectantly and he swallows thickly. He takes a deep breath to try and compose himself, as long as it doesn’t kill him right? Right.

“Let’s go for it.” He tells Cassie after a moment.

She presses a button on the screen and gestures for him to enter the simulator. Tim honestly has no idea what he’s got himself into as he walks into the centre of the room, he just hopes he makes it out in one piece.

-------

He’s pulled something. Tim’s pretty sure he’s pulled a muscle or something along those lines because he is sore.

Overall he spent a good 5 hours in the training room with the aliens. It’s been about two hours since then, during that time he’s stretched, had some food and had a very pleasant shower. Now that he’s back in his room, collapsed on his bed, all he can feel is the achiness in his body and the bruising he’s received.

In reality, training hadn’t been as bad as what it could have been. Tim certainly isn’t skilled enough to keep up with the aliens and all of their super-human abilities but he held his ground for a little while. Once he had finished in the simulator, he had sparred with each of them separately, it gave him an insight on how their powers work and just simply fighting against different abilities.

That’s also where he picked up all the bruises, hopefully they won’t freak out too much when they next see him because its only after the shower that they’ve started to show on his skin now. A nice variety of ugly black and blue patches in different areas.

It’s easy to say that fighting the aliens is nothing like wrestling with his brothers.

He did manage to get the drop on both Kon and Cassie however, which was a delight considering who they are. He had surprised them both by doing a flip to dodge their attacks and striking out with one of his own. They had stared at him in disbelief for a good minute before asking what he did.

He showed them how he can perform a back flip as well as a front flip. They seemed to be absolutely flabbergast with it. At first they freaked out when he had jumped, all three of them seemed to be in the middle of rushing towards him by the time he landed safely on his feet. It took him doing the trick a few times for them to not feel so on edge with what he could do, especially since he had no powers to help him perform.

Tim laughed at their reactions and commented that they should see his brother. If they think Tim is fancy for doing a couple flips, then they should see what his acrobatic brother could do. He would love to see their faces after seeing the variety of ways Dick could bend, making it seem like he has no bones in his body.

It would certainly be interesting.

When he hears his room’s door open, Tim groans. He buries his face into a pillow and scowls. Hadn’t he just come into his room? What do they want now? He can’t be bothered to do anything else. Whoever it was stops by his bed but doesn’t move any more.

“Tim?” It was Bart. “Are you sleeping?”

In response Tim simply grunts into the pillow, not wanting to be disturbed. Bart doesn’t seem to get the message because Tim was suddenly being poked.

“Tim?”

He puts up with three more pokes before forcing himself up on his hands and sending Bart an unimpressed look. “What is it Bart?”

Bart smiles, clearly not seeing that Tim was annoyed with him. “We’re at the next planet we need to collect from. Cassie wanted me to come and get you.”

Sighing, Tim nods and starts getting up from the bed. “Okay sure, I’m coming.”

“Okay!”

When Tim blinks and reopens his eyes Bart was no longer there. He shakes his head and just lets it be, he still isn’t used to that superspeed thing. It’s becoming less surprising now but he still wasn’t entirely used to it.

With little energy Tim drags his feet across the floor until he’s out of his room and heads down the corridor towards the cockpit. He wonders what kind of item they’ll have to collect this time, hopefully it’ll be easier and a lot safer to collect than the others, especially after the most recent one.

He doesn’t really want another adventure like that thanks.

Walking into the cockpit he eyes Kon up at the dashboard, then Cassie and Bart sat at the table going over some papers. Tim strolls over to the table and collapses in an empty seat. “Please tell me this item is easier and safer to collect than the last.”

That gets him a laugh from Kon on the other side of the room, he spins around in his chair to face him. “This item is easy to collect, yes. Not all of us really have to even go, all we have to do is go to the supplier and exchange objects.”

Tim starts nodding in understanding before he stops and shoots Kon a look. “So was there any reason for Bart to come and get me or no? If only one of us needs to go then do I have to be here?” It was a bit blunt and harsh but he felt knackered after that workout session. It’s been a while since he’s done so much physical work and after being injured a couple times it’s kinda taken it out of him.

Kon blinks in surprise at the questions. “Uh, we thought you would have wanted to know what was going on that’s all. I apologise that we disturbed you?”

The alien sounds so unsure on what to make of the situation that Tim feels bad for putting him in this position to begin with. He goes to apologise but Cassie jumps in before he could.

“Actually Tim, you and I can go over some details about The League,” She tells him, “there’s information that you should probably know and I want details from your time with them. Bart and Kon can handle collecting the next item.”

Tim raises his eyebrows but doesn’t protest. Maybe finding out more about The League wouldn’t hurt, though he has no idea what information that Cassie thinks that he may know, because he doesn’t know anything at all. When he was there, he couldn’t understand any of them and was too busy freaking out about being in space.

Kon turns back to the dashboard and guides the ship until they touch down on the new planet. The Kryptonian and the Speedster say their farewells as they exit the cockpit therefore leaving him and Cassie alone.

Tim still gets mixed feelings from Cassie, one moment she seems to be okay with him then the next she’s acting kinda hostile towards him. He didn’t know what to make of her but he really doesn’t want to cause any trouble.

The two of them end up sitting at the table and Tim sits there feeling tense and awkward as he waits for Cassie to start the conversation. At the moment the Amazon is sorting through some papers into a couple piles in front of her, promptly ignoring him.

Tim twiddles his thumbs and tries his best to not fidget too much. It was beginning to get uncomfortable and he wanted nothing more than to simply go back to bed, fall asleep and pretend this never happened. However he doesn’t always get what he wants.

There were several minutes of tense silence until Cassie finally engages with him. Showing him a variety of different bits of paper she starts explaining the history of the League of Assassins. Tim does his best to keep up with everything she was saying, any questions he had she answered to the best of her ability. Once they had gone through the history Cassie moved onto asking him about his time with them. Tim did his best to explain what he saw and why he thinks he was there, it wasn’t very informative but it was something.

They were still talking about the League when Bart and Kon return to the ship sometime later. The two aliens enter the cockpit smiling and laughing with one another, Cassie and Tim stop conversing watch them as they walk over to the table and settle down next to them.

Cassie raises an eyebrow, “Well?”

Kon waves a dismissive hand. “Surprisingly no conflictions with the trade, so it was a simple swap which makes a nice change compared to previous items.”

“Yeah he was pretty crash.” Bart grins. “He even gave us extra for no charge!”

Cassie hums noncommittedly. “Our next item is on the next planet from this one, it shouldn’t take too long to get there.” She gets up and heads for the dashboard.

Kon soon follows her and takes his seat in the pilots chair, the two of them work together to get the ship in the air once again and to take off so they could get away from this planet.

“How are you feeling?” Tim turns to Bart who was watching him. Tim shrugs.

“I’m fine. Cassie and I were going through stuff about the League.”

“There’s a lot there.” Bart hums knowingly. “They’re real nasty, its sad that you got involved with them.”

He knows that Bart doesn’t mean anything by those words but Tim couldn’t help the slight anger that rises up in him at hearing it. “It wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter.” He says sharply. Tim crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, thankfully Bart doesn’t continue the conversation.

Tim uses his time to go over the notes he made when he and Cassie were talking about the League, the files she had seemed to be great, however he couldn’t read any of them so to solve that problem he wrote his own.

He moves one piece of paper which uncovers the one hiding underneath it. Tim pauses, staring at the new piece of paper in front of him. Taking up most of the page was an image of the master of the league, the Demon’s Head as Cassie had called him, Ra’s Al Ghul.

The image was, what Tim would describe as, a mug shot. He looked human, with his Caucasian skin, long face, two green eyes, brown hair with white parts above the ears and facial hair that sticks out at the chin.

Tim shivers at the sight of him. He really hopes he doesn’t see that man again, he doesn’t know what would happen if he does see him but what he does know is that it won’t be pleasant. All Tim wants to do is go home and forget this whole space trip ever happened. It’s his fault Tim was in space to begin with, he’s the one who kidnapped Tim for whatever reason in the first place.

That being said, would he go after Tim again when he returns to Earth? What’s stopping the Demon’s Head from coming after him a second time? Will Tim ever be safe again?

Shaking his head he clears those thoughts and quickly covers the paper so he didn’t have to look at that hideous face anymore. He can’t be thinking about that right now, there's more important things to be dealing with.

He glances up to see Bart staring at him with a slight frown on his face. Tim raises his eyebrows at him when they make eye contact as if to say, ‘mind your own business’, whether Bart gets the message or not he’s not sure. Tim’s soon distracted from the speedster because the other two soon join them.

“We’re on route to the neighbouring planet where we need to collect the next item. It shouldn’t take too long to get there. While we’re there we can do some stocking and check things over of the ship.” Kon informs them as he glances at each of them in turn.

“Okay, now that’s sorted, can I go back to bed?” Tim asks, almost whiningly. “It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

The three aliens look at him and he fights the scowl threatening to take over his face. He’s tired but he wants his own space as much as he wants to go to bed, so just going to his room knowing he wouldn’t be disturbed for so many hours will be more than enough.

“Actually Tim, I was going to suggest an entertainment session. We haven’t done anything fun like for a while.” Kon says.

Tim sighs and hangs his hang in resignation. Stupid aliens and their capability to go on without sleep. Opposite him Bart brightens up in his chair. “Yes! We haven’t done one of those in eons! Whatarewegoingtodo? Arewewatchingsomethingonthescreen? Howaboutplayingsomegames? Ohohohohwhataboutthecards?”

Tim rubs his hand across his forehead and doesn’t even bother in trying to keep up with what the Speedster was saying. Kon, on the other hand, has no problem interpreting what he was saying.

Kon shrugs, looking between Bart and him. “Well I was going to have it as an open discussion. Perhaps if Tim isn’t feeling okay we can do it another time.”

Well, now he just feels bad. Tim sits up straight in his chair and looks at Kon. “Don’t worry about me joining in. I wouldn’t be much fun anyway, go on without me.”

“What about we use the screen instead?” Cassie suggests. “Tim can still rest but we can do something together?”

Both Kon and Bart nod, seeming satisfied with the idea that they still get to hang out together and do something. Tim simply agrees to his fate, they want him to join in (which is appreciated) and he isn’t getting away from not doing so, perhaps he could fall asleep on the couch?

A little while later, Tim finds himself lying on one end of the couch with a pillow under his head and a blanket covering him. The others are all sprawled out along the couch beside him, everyone watching the screen in front of them.

Tim has no idea what they’re watching, there were a variety of blue and purple blobs with faces resembling something like DaVinci would paint on the screen, he figures this is perhaps some planet’s animation. He has no idea but he’s pretty sure he’s going to get nightmares from watching those things. They’re terrifying.

He must have actually drifted off to sleep in the end because the next thing he’s mildly aware of is someone picking him up off the sofa. He makes an unhappy whining sound because a sudden rush of cold air meets an uncovered part of his body, Tim attempts to curl into the warmth still there as much as he can.

Soon enough Tim’s being placed back down on something soft, he’s then covered with a blanket and is left in peace. Tim succumbs to sleep pretty quickly after that.

#universal signs #Tim Drake #Kon-El #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #Young Justice #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #fanfiction #sleep #training #tim being dramatic

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lockdownuk · 4 years ago

Text

Lockdown Diary Part 2

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 31: I went to Tesco’s at Hampton at @8pm. It was weird. But I made it less weird by buying (amongst all the legit stuff I needed and some stuff for Karen’s mum) more booze. I have, atm about 30 assorted cans and 60 assorted bottles. I’m gonna stop buying booze now until I’m down to the last dozen. I don’t want owt to happen and I leave many behind!

Day 32: More than a calender month! I was rung up by a recruitment agent today about a contract with DHL as a remote support engineer to their aviation section. €400 a day! I’ve applied. Few beers tonight, watching a new Netflix release (Extraction) and catching up with Fog, Ham, Andy and Rog later at 10:30pm - yikes, might be pissed.

Day 33: Typing this on day 34. Dossed around during the day, few beers and another video call with fog, Ham and Rig plus I invited John Monk along. He was his usual self and signed off from the call with a moonie! Later on I had the pleasure of Scottish Louise video calling me! She was pissed, in her shed drinking den at her home with some neighbour called Ronnie and her daughter Ellie. She was her usual outrageous self who imaprted such gems as “Tim, you look old” and “Roger on coke is the only time I’ve taken it up the arse”. Nice.

Day 34: Today I skyped Laurie and ‘met’ Matthew and Nicholas for the first time. It was bloody fantatsic. Janine was there as well.I cannot believe it takes lockdown (plus an idea to get Laurie to add me to his regular Monday skype chat with Dad) that managed to get us doing something that should have happened years ago! It was so great to talk to them all face-to-face. Janine hasn’t changed a bit, Matthew is very quiet with Nicholas being the more gregorious twin. And Laurie is still Laurie. I’m reminded of how much I sort of miss him! It was all so comfortable. I loved it! Tomorrow is Dad’s 85th hence the 3-way chat idea. I hope it comes off!

Day 35: So dad and Laurie and I skyped. It was OK but my video feed was very dark, (still dunno why) and Lauire’s kept freezing. I dropped out so as to leave them to it, my thinking being the extra person takes up bandwidth, with the promise I’d call dad later. Before I could, Rita called me and suggested Dad and I skype, which we did. So, all in all, a good day of comms! And Dad seems his happy usual self - 85 years old! Amazing.

Day 36: I am really struggling to motivate myself this week. Today, I’ve done fuck all of note. That is all.

Day 37: A similar day to yesterday. All I have really managed to do is lay down audio from Pink Floyd (Absolutely Curtains) to a video I shot of a cow on yesterday’s walk. I am having a downer of a week without any good reason why, ld aside. I have worn my new walking boots today (’cos my old ones are leaking, I found out yesterday) and they fucking hurt, despite having tried to wear them in for months, albeit pathetically. Also, a few days ago (Friday 24th April), I got notification from HM Revenue & Customs that I’m getting tax rebate (from 2018-19) of £392. Yay!

Day 38: I received notification today that I’ve got a speeding ticket…last Thursday back from Tesco’s - 87mph somewhere between the A1 and Elton. I am hoping it’s a fixed penalty. I dunno whether it is yet, I just have to send the form off confirming it’s my car and I was driving. I spoke with Lynda from Woodfords asking her to ask for a rent reduction before I sign for another year. Plus, I let her know that I will be Howard and Sue’s eyes as the look at rental properties in Oundle - I do hope they return although it would be a shame for them that their plans have been scuppered (she’s lost her job in Oz due to Covid-19)

Day 39: Today I started another piece of exercise - up and down the stairs 26 times. Not sure why 26 - it was some thing online to do with the London Marathon, I think. It fucking killed. I used 13 clothes pegs for a counting system. I asked Karen to pick up some stuff when she was shopping (burgers, radishes) - Dan dropped them off, He was with Shaggy (driving his van) and going to see Jonah. That pisses me off - they should be social distancing, ffs.

Discoevered, today, that Cornershop, post-Brinful are fucking excellent. listening to the album ‘England is a Garden’ as I type.

Day 40: That 26 times up and down the stairs is fucking hard. I did videos about it today. My legs are aching like fuck right now.

Day 41: Just done Young Sam’s (Sam Clews) quiz. 3rd week running and it’s now become a habit and something I look forward to. Out of all the internet driven socialising I’m undertaking in ld, this is the weirdest - I feel totally detatched from all others taking part but, now, would feel pissed off if I didn’t or couldn’t join in. I got 47/70 this week. My best score and only about 8 off the winning score - most others aren’t doing it on their own!

Today’s walk was a cloudy one - I captured some fine, dramatic pics of the clouds. I am getting into this photography lark, albeit very amateurish. But, when I post any pics online (mostly FB), they seem to be widely appreciated, which is nice.

Day 42: Applied for a remote service delivery job with a firm called TTEC. £60k. Finished watching The Outsider. The creepiest TV show I have seen in years. Really great use of background music.

Day 43: Finished Mindhunter S2 last night. It’s so good but I cannot quite put my finger on why. Today has been a nothing day apart from day 2 of me not typing the letter ‘e’ in any post or comments on FB for a week. It’s hard.

Day 44: Watch Anna last night. A Luc Besson film that starts a kick-ass suprermodel. It’s right down my street. Today I have been lazy af. I need to pick up my online learning again…tomorrow, maybe! I watched Andy Murray Resurfacing. A documentary on Amazon. Fantastic. What a top man he is. Completely human and completely inhuman!

Day 45: Much talk in the news of possible lockdown relaxation. I am off the opinion we should stay the course until we are completely assured of beathing this thing i.e. a working, widely available vaccine. Dad and I Skyped - he is doing well, as usual. So is Rita. They both seem very happy in lockdown! Today has been a glorious day, weather wise. I had my walkk at 10ish this morming and it was very warm. Hottest day of the year so far I reckon.

Day 46: Bank holiday Friday (75th anniversary of VE day). Nice walk. Chat with Karen letting her know about being caught speeding just in case I am banned and need some out of town shopping. Watched second episode of DEVS by Alex Garland. It’s good and intriguing. Now, @7pm, gonna eat and hit the beers and smokes.

Day 47: Typing this at 15:45 on day 48. I had lots of beers and a good old chat with Rog…

Day 48: Today’s daily press conference was eagerly anticipated today with rumours of a relaxation in lockdown. It seems it was a fuss about nothing with no clear instructions - I didn’t watch it but, skimming the BBC news site, I shan’t be doing anything different over the next few weeks, not that I would anyway - furlough and self isolation are the order of the day and I won’t change that until I am sure it’s safe. Meanwhile people, including Danny flaunt the rules, it’s been pointed out to me plus I know he spends time with Jonah and Marc. It really fucks me off. So, the actions of the few mean I will lock myself down for as long, if not longer, as it takes. Attended Sam Clews quiz again. It passes the time. Also, I had half a scotch bonnet chilli with tea tonight (roasted veg, cous cous and sausages). Ridiculously hot!

Day 49: Received the speaker I ordered a few days ago (from eBay). It’s an AudioPro Addon T10. I got it for a very reasonable price from a German shop. As a result, the power lead isn;t three pin and that has seriously fucked me right off!

Meanwhile, I did my 26 stair climb before my daily walk today. It was easier than usual (surprise surprise) and I did 7km - but that was tough! ‘Cos I am on (yet another) free trial of Amazon Prime, I am ramping up watching stuff available. Last night I watched Booksmart - really nice little film with a great soundtrack. I am listening to Dan the Automater as I type. Today I watched half (3 eps) of The Night Manager and the film ‘The Founder’. The former is a superb series, the latter an OK film about Ray Kroc - the supposed founder of McDonald’s. Except he wasn’t; he was the wrong side of ambitious and a cunt.

Day 50: Stripped the 2 pin cable from the speaker I received yesterday and wired up a 3 pin plug and it worked. Win. And it sounds great. Win-win. Went to go shopping in Hampton but the car wouldn’t start. Loss. But it was the battery so I managed to borrow Karen’s jump starter which worked. Win.

Spent £107. Loss. But just under £40 was booze plus £10 for two big pizzas, two sides (dirty fries) and some dips. Win. Didn’t do any online learning - seriously fucking letting myself down. Loss.

Did my usual walking and 26 stair climb. The latter is hard but defo getting easier. Win. Day 51: Sam’s 51st birthday on day 51 - coincidence! Today I received my face mask from Lou - House of Stewart tartan. I’m pleased with it and that I have got a mask now. I managed to get up at a reasonable hour, just left 09:00, and revisit my web design course. Module 1, lesson 5 and I am fucking stuck. Trying to code an online CV with a side nav bar and I cannot get it to fucking work. Grrrrrr. Later, i got into a FB dispute (easily distracted due to the above) with someone over his statement of fact (Tim Martin’s treatment of Whetherspoons’ employees) when he doesn’t know it’s fact. It probably is, but that is not the fucking point. I wish I could leave these sort of spats alone. I am drinking, at 20:45, peppermint tea as I type. Jeez, what’s happened to me?

Day 52: Well, last night took a swift chnage. Rog message me and, to cut a long story short, I hit the beers, also called Foggy later, got trashed. I got up today at gone 1pm. Sam posted on fb that Paul had forgort her birthday yesterday. Oh dear! The 26 stair climb and walking each day is noticeable for how knackered my legs feel all the time, I noticed today!

Day 53: My birthday! Nice comments and banter of FB. Rachael brought round a bottle of whisky; gobsmacked. Karen popped round some beers and sausage rolls. Sam sent a card, as did dad with a £50 cheque. Dan’s ordering me a pizza later.

Chuffed! Day 54: I went to bed late after a lot of beers, huge pizza and chips, a few smokes and a long call with WWJ and video chats with Fog then Rog. Got up around 1pm and dossed with my usual exercises and I made fish pie with a scotch bonnet. Day 55: Late one last night but up early today (11ish). Really fretting about hospital tomorrow. Nervous anyway but the safety aspect, in terms of Covid-19, isn’t helping.

Day 56: Hospital appointment was just for an eye scan so the consultant can review it. I was very surprised to see how few people were wearing face masks! I did two lots of washing today. (After the hospital) I went to Morrsions, Asda (queue too long though), B&M (queue too long though) then Tesco’s. All to buy a baseball cap ‘cos I’m fucked if I’m going to wet my hair each time I go out and want it to look presentable! In Morrsions (no mens’ clothing apart from underwear!) I stocked up of 10 cans of sugarfree apple Caraboa….I was only thinking of this drink just the other day. Yesterday I finished The Night Manager on Amazon. I liked it a lot but, also, expected much, much more from it consdiering the hype. Hugh Laurie has come a long way from comedy sketches with Stephen Fry!

Day 57:Received an email from Sueanne yesterday asking ( as designated spokesperson for everyone) how I am. The most interestring piece of news in a rather uninformative email was that the US has started to open resorts!

Day 58: I am writing this on Day 59. I started a two walk a day regime. The first walk I do is shorter, around 4km. my aim is to be ready for 1,000,000 steps Diabetic UK challenge (throughout July, August and September). I need to do just under 11,000 steps a day. The relaxation in ld rules makes this achievable. On that score, I am allowed to visit a friend’s house, as long as it’s just the two of us, outside, 2m apart. I went round Karen’s last night. I was desperate to have a Happy Hour (I allow myself a midweek beer - today (well, yesterday) is/was Wednesday!) of sorts with another human (rather than a video chat). I was there for about 2 hours, very enjoyable, and then came home. Then I had usual roasted veg with rice and sausages but I couldn’t eat it. I used half a scotch bonnet rather than the usual birdeye chillis. It was too hot, had to sling it! Had a few more beers and, hence, neglected my diary duties!

Day 59: It’s 01:20am. I don’t know why I am still awake and up, but I am. But, also, I am now going to bed. Nothing else to report, really.

Day 60: Half way through 12 weeks furlough. I was discussing this with Dad and Rita earlier - I am expecting that, at the end of 12 weeks, I’ll be laid off. I hope I’m wrong but I reckon it’s well on the cards. Off to have a beer round Karen’s in a sec which will be pleasant. Just a hour or so. It’s fucking windy today so I shall wrap up!

#diary #Tumblr diary #lockdown #COVID19 #lockdownuk

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letterboxd · 5 years ago

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More Foghorn: The Robert Eggers Q&A.

“I wanted to be able to laugh at misery.” —The Lighthouse director Robert Eggers answers your questions and ours about what he’s wearing on Hallowe’en, being cool with memes, and paying homage to Mary Poppins.

The Lighthouse, out now in select US cinemas and opening nationwide this weekend, is the follow-up to Robert Eggers’ feature debut The Witch, one of our highest-rated films of 2016 and the third highest-rated horror of that year.

Similarly, The Lighthouse is firmly in our top ten narrative features of 2019 and is absolutely tearing up the Letterboxd reviews section with reactions like “Eggers holds nothing back in this film. He takes things far past okay and doesn’t apologize for any of it,” (Logan) and “If a bearded, bulging-eyed Willem Dafoe talking like a pirate for one hundred and ten minutes, shot on high-contrast orthochromatically filtered high-resolution black-and-white celluloid that brings out every follicle and pore doesn’t deserve five stars, I simply don’t know what does” (Jonathan).

The film’s success lies in a combination of obsessively detailed production design, singular technical choices (“a black-and-white movie in a stupid aspect ratio”, as Eggers told Filmmaker magazine), the superb acting partnership of Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson as lighthouse keepers on a far-flung rock, a borderline-ridiculous amount of foghorn in the soundtrack, and—in spite of the characters’ miserable circumstances—a hysterically funny script.

When we spoke to Eggers’ brother and co-writer Max at TIFF, he told us that the writing partnership was “a perfect fit; we trust each other, and I think that’s the big thing about writing teams is you gotta trust each other”. Their brotherly relationship naturally enabled the film’s dialogue to head into comedic territory, even as the story itself descends into hallucinatory horror. “Comedy is about that. You’ve gotta be able to be honest and trust yourselves. We didn’t know how it was going to play but, thankfully, I think the fart jokes work.”

Not only do the fart jokes work; the poetically trippy 1890s dialogue became instantly meme-able. It was no surprise, then, that when we invited the Letterboxd community to contribute questions for this interview, many of them dwelled on the script. But first, with Hallowe’en fast-approaching, we needed to know what Eggers had planned.

A24 has put out a helpful guide for those who want to do Hallowe’en as a 19th-century lighthouse keeper. You’re in the middle of The Lighthouse promo tour, but have you managed to plan yours? Robert Eggers: Hallowe’en was my favorite holiday growing up and I made many elaborate costumes, but now that I’m doing this, I will agree with Marilyn Manson where he says: “Hallowe’en is my day off”. It’s time for everyone else to catch up!

At TIFF, we spoke with your co-writer and brother Max about your collaboration. Letterboxd members Kevin and MrRabbit7 are interested in what the writing process was like with Max. Does that relationship allow more of an ‘anything goes’ approach? I know my brother, so it’s easy for us to write together. My movie that was leaked in the trades a couple days ago [The Northman] I also wrote with another writer. I’m finding, as much as I like writing scripts on my own, it’s fun to collaborate. It’s actually joyful to pass the drafts back and forth and see how you’re lifting each other’s work up.

We had many questions (including from John, Austin and Tyler) about The Lighthouse’s dialect and vernacular. Can you tell us about the work you did in constructing dialogue in unfamiliar languages, including the sources you consulted? It’s a lot of research and there is some quoting the sources directly. There’s much more of that in The Witch, where sentences remain intact. There’s very few intact sentences from the research in this film. There’s certainly many turns-of-phrase. When I’m looking at my primary source material from the period, I’m writing down vocabulary words in my own thesaurus that I can turn to.

I tend not to write in modern English and then translate the dialect. I try to write in the dialect even as I’m learning to do it, so the thesaurus is organized more [as] moods and ideas. I’m washing my eyes with words and hoping something turns up that works as I’m moving forward. You’re studying the sentence structure and trying to find the rules.

Thankfully with The Witch, because it was written in early modern English, which was a golden age of English writing, there were plenty of books available to teach me what the rules were. In studying the various Puritans, I could find how different people broke the rules and did things their own way. With this film it was much harder to find that, but eventually my brother came across the work of Sarah Orne Jewett. She was writing in coastal Maine dialect, interviewing working people to get their dialect. My wife found a thesis written by Evelyn Starr Cutler where she provided rules for different dialects—where are ‘r’s omitted and where are ‘r’s added, so on and so forth—so we could create consistent dialects for both characters.

“Why’d ya spill yer beans?” “Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?” Everyone—even A24’s marketing team—has taken to the film with meme-able gusto (exhibit A: these goofy Lighthouse emoji). How does it feel to have your deeply researched script torn apart in this affectionate, ironic way by internet culture? Does it make you hesitate in your approach to writing and directing these types of lines? (This question brought to you by those who quoted those infamous questions in response to this AMA.) No, it’s cool with me. The Lighthouse was designed to be a black comedy and not just have moments of black comedy. The Witch takes itself very seriously, but I think that there’s something kind of film student-y about how serious it takes itself. I’m glad that people can make PlayMobil and Lego playsets as jokes. You need to be irreverent, and with The Lighthouse I was exploring misery again but I wanted to be able to laugh at misery. Werner Herzog talked about it like, you’re on the floor laughing, you know?

You and your brother both have deep roots in theater. After listening to your A24 podcast with brother-in-arms and Midsommar director Ari Aster, Solly F wants to know which playwrights you look up to, and who was particularly useful in your approach to The Lighthouse? I like Shakespeare [laughs]. I don’t know if he was particularly helpful for this, but he’s pretty good! Clearly [Harold] Pinter, Sam Shepard, and evoking the name [Samuel] Beckett is almost worse than evoking the name Shakespeare, but you know, they’re good at what they do, and for this two-hander about identity it was impossible not to think of those playwrights.

Many members are curious about the films that inspire you and, more specifically, your most influential Ingmar Bergman films. So, which Bergman were you looking at for The Lighthouse? Also, Evan McKenzie dares to ask, “Given the chance, which Bergman film should you like to remake?” Well, I would not remake a Bergman movie because that’s just insanity! Even though I dared to talk about remaking Nosferatu—which also probably does not need to be done—so I guess, yes, I am insane. Fair enough question. Obviously Persona and any of his chamber dramas would be the ones I would be thinking about here.

There’s a shot where Willem is knitting and Rob is smoking in the foreground, which Jarin [Blaschke, The Witch and The Lighthouse’s director of photography] and I referred to fondly as our Hour of the Wolf shot. Of course we’re using a much wider lens than Bergman ever would have done and had a different approach to lighting than he did, so it doesn’t seem all that Bergman-esque in the end, even though it was our homage.

Youssef asks: which foreign-language films are your favorites, or provided you an entry point into the non-English language arthouse? The arthouse films that I saw in high school were ones that just happened to be in my local video store. Only one of them is foreign language, The City of Lost Children, but that, Eraserhead, and Brazil were three movies that I can think of that made me ask: “Oh you can do that? Wow!” Julie Taymor’s Titus also was another film from high school that made me realize that there was something other than—and not to speak disparagingly—Spielberg and Tim Burton and whatever was more easy to see in rural New Hampshire cinemas.

Robert Pattinson and Robert Eggers on the set of ‘The Lighthouse’. / Photo: Chris Reardon

The Lighthouse has an ambiguity that has led to many of our members questioning its genre. Even Ari Aster wasn’t sure when he mentioned the film in his Q&A, and you’ve referred to it as a black comedy here. But we have to ask, for the sake of our community’s sanity: is The Lighthouse a horror movie? I don’t see it as a horror movie. But I’ve definitely spoken to people who get my intentions that think it is. So maybe? I don’t care what people call it.

It’ll probably make our top horror lists, if that’s okay. That’s fine.

Let’s not tease too many hypotheticals, since this question is based only on your two-feature output so far, but there is significant interest in whether you’ll branch out into other genres, specifically sci-fi, and other time periods, specifically the future. Well again, pointing to the leaked Viking movie, that ain’t a horror movie. And I’ve written other movies that aren’t horror movies. It’s just The Witch and everything that I’ve actually gotten made so far have been horror or horror adjacent. That’s just how it’s been—fine, happy about it.

Never say never because I am interested in sci-fi. I feel like generally when people are trying to ask big questions and challenge current philosophies, to look at things that are bigger than ourselves today, it’s always done with sci-fi. So for me, I’m enjoying doing that kind of stuff in the past just because that’s not how people often use historical movies today.

Writer-director Robert Eggers.

We love asking filmmakers this and Filbert wants to know: what are your go-to comfort films? The movies you’ve seen the most? Anything that could surprise us? The Big Lebowski I’ve watched a lot. We have a little bit of a nod to it in The Lighthouse when [Pattinson] throws their shit off the cliff and it hits him in the face. It’s pretty damn close to the ashes of Steve Buscemi. I think it’s not going to surprise anyone that I’ve seen The Shining a zillion times. I’ve seen Mary Poppins a lot, and we have a little nod to it with our weather-vane shot.

By the way, when I’m writing it I’m not thinking ‘this is the Big Lebowski scene’ or ‘this is the Mary Poppins scene’. I’m just kind of writing and you say, “well, I know where that came from.”

Finally, the 2010s are drawing to a close and many of us, including Max and John, would like to know: what are your essential films of the decade? I’d have to think about it more, but recently I thought Trey Edward Shults’ Waves is great, Hereditary is great, Parasite’s great… I’m sorry, I haven’t seen Parasite [laughs]. That’s a microaggression, I meant to say Burning is great. Anything by Ciro Guerra [director of Embrace of the Serpent and co-director of Birds of Passage] is great. Yeah, there’s a few.

‘The Lighthouse’ is in US cinemas now. All images courtesy of A24.

#The Lighthouse #the witch #robert eggers #max eggers #robert pattinson #rpatz #willem dafoe #scriptwriting #screenwriting #writing #19th century #film #black and white #cinematography #mermaid #a24 #A24 films #a24 movies #letterboxd

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ohtheseboysilove · 5 years ago

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The sunflower always finds its sunlight I [Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 2, 400 (the next chapters are longer!)

Warnings : Slowburn!fic, language, sad shit, angst (but who is surprise?)

Summary : Roger likes Reader since forever but the timing seems to just never be right for them. Reader is still haunted by her past relationship and kept rejecting Roger who know nothing about the abuses she had been victim of. After being rejected for the sixth time, Roger thinks it’s time for him to move on…

Note : Yes it’s lme again ! With more angst because i can only write angsty story bruuuh! So here is my latest baby and I had think about writing it since months so I’m happy to finally show it to you lovies ! The story covered a period of eight years during the first two chapters which are essentially flash-backs then it’s go back to the present and it’s definitively a slow burn!fic.

Hope you’ready for heartbroken!Roger because he is gonna suffer, im telling you (Reader too ofc!!!)

Also very important : This story is going to talk about very sensitive topics like eating disorders, physical, sexual and emotional abuses so if you don’t feel comfortable about any of them, please don’t read my story. I will put it in the Warnings section when the chapters will abord theses topics.

☀ Masterlist ☀

Roger gulped the rest of his neat whisky, wiping furiously his teary eyes. He knew catching feeling was the worst idea possible but he didn’t decide to, it just happened. And now he was regretting to finally experienced a heartbroken. It sucked. The girl he had been stupidly in love for years had reject him not once, not twice or even three times but six painfully times. And he perfectly remembered each of these times even if the first no you said to him had happen almost eight years ago, the night when you met each other.

You were just eighteen, the little newbie in the city of London, here for your studies when you met Freddie at the Kensington market. He guessed right away that you weren’t from here and after hours of talking, he invited you to come with him at a gig his friends had during the evening. Of course you said yes, it was your first night out after two weeks in London, you were excited.

Don’t Forget to Smile! was a great band, good music and powerful energy, you spent a fantastic night with Fred and his not-yet girlfriend Mary. He introduced you to the band and all of you had a beer in one of the crappy booth from the pub, Tim, Brian and Roger were as nice as Freddie so you did enjoy your evening.

Freddie told you the drummer was a real flirt, no meaning any harm but it just couldn’t resist to do does-eyes to every pretty girl in the pub, including you.

“How a sweet little thing like you could be single ?” You smiled to Roger, flattered to be pretty enough for the blond to use his charm on you.

“Well, introduce me to a cute guy and maybe it could fix the issue” You sassed back with a grin, earning few laughs from the table.

“You got one right in front of you, love” The blond winked at you, his round eyes checking you out without a once of shame.

“You’re right Roger” You nodded and gave him your most charming smile before turning to Brian. “Want to have a drink with me Bri ?” Everyone laughed excepted Roger who rolled his eyes, pouting like a kid.

“If I wasn’t with my fantastic girlfriend, I would certainly say yes (Y/N)” The guitarist joked back and gave your hand a kiss like a perfect gentleman.

“I understand Brian” You sighed deeply then turned toward Tim. “Maybe I had a chance with another cutie like you ?” The singer blushed and took a sip of his beer to hide his flustered state. You were a pretty girl and he wasn’t blind.

“Tim forget that, (Y/N), you should go on a date with me. The girls always have a good time with me” The drummer stood up and came sit next to you, arm throwing around your shoulders, cocky and confident smile on his features. “What do you say ? Want to go out with me ?” One of his hand ended up on your knee, squeezing it gently.

“Nice try but no thanks Rog” You giggled as you shook your head, pushing him away. “And if you want an advice, next time you ask a girl out, don’t leered in another girl neckline in same time” You grinned and glanced at the girl sat at the bar, cheeks flushed by Roger’s not-so-discrete glares.

All the table let a Oooow out, teasing the blond about it.

“I wasn’t– Okay I was looking at this girl but she’s hot and, this one, she is interested in me so I guess I’m gonna talk to her” He finished his drink and lowered his head to your ear, murmuring words that at the moment weren’t serious, not knowing that years later, he would still think about it. “I saw how you look at me, even if it take me ten years, I’m gonna kiss these pretty lips of yours and made sweet love to you, beautiful girl” Your eyes were wide-opened at the audacity of the man but chuckled anyway, watched him with an amusing smile walking to the redhead girl.

Roger waved to the bartender for another whisky, a double one as all these memories were coming back, roughly hitting him in the face. The first time had been a joke but the second time was more serious but completely useless as he totally misread the situation purely and simply.

During the next six months, you became of good friend of the band, hanging with them most of your free time and Roger found himself growing attached to you. Not in a romantically way but friendlily speaking. You were one of the first girl he was only friend with, without wanting something more. Well, of course if you decided suddenly you wanted to have a wild and hot session of sex with him, he wouldn’t say no, you were too pretty for that but, it was rather nice to have you as a friend, he found you funny and real cool to hang around. He kept flirting with you but lightly, more like a joke than anything until one day he heard you chatting with Fred.

“I don’t think he feel the same about me...” You complained with a whining voice. “I mean did you see him ? He is really popular with girls, why he would waste his time with me ? It won’t happen”

“Don’t be silly darling, this man is always ogling you, I know he have a thing for you” Replied the dark-haired man in a scold. “I can feel the tension between the two of you when you are around each other. You need to do something about it”

Roger smirked at his friend’s words, he wasn’t wrong about the sexual tension, the blond felt it too. He cleared loudly his throat to announce his arrival and entered the flat he was sharing with Freddie.

“Roger, darling ! The man (Y/N) wanted to see” You made big eyes to your friend, silently scolding him. “I have some stuffs to do so I let you talk” He winked and disappeared of the flat, leaving you nervously fidgeting your fingers.

“How ya doing love ?” He gave you the most flirty smile he had in stock as you blushed, tucking your hairs behind your hairs. “What do you want to talk about ?” He sat on the sofa and tapped the empty space next to him.

“Well, hum...I wanted to ask you something Rog” The drummer smiled wider as you sat, finding incredibly cute how crimson you were becoming. The thought of dating you gently germed in his brain, he could eventually give it a try. “Do you think your friend Donovan would be interest to go on a date with me ?” You quickly gabbled with a shy smile.

Roger found himself silent at your demand. Donovan ? You were talking about Donovan during you and Freddie’s conversation ? He felt incredibly stupid.

“I...hum, I don’t know, never think about it” He stuttered with pink cheeks, he never thought you were into his and Brian’ school friend, Donovan. How did he miss that ?

“Oh. I got it, it’s okay Rog, I prefer honesty you know” You replied sadly, persuaded that he didn’t know how to told you his friend didn’t like you back. Roger looked at you, completely stupefied that you could even think someone wouldn’t be into you, what a joke. “That’s fine, really. He is way out of my league anyway” You chuckled but interiorly you wanted to cry.

“No, no, no ! I think you have your chance (Y/N)” The blond caught your hand and gently pressed it. Maybe it was for the best if you stayed friends, Roger wasn’t the best in relationship and he didn’t want to lose you. “I’m sorry you thought the contrary, I...I thought you were about to ask me out” He confessed with a little smile, earning a surprised gasp from you.

“Oh! Oh! Roger I’m sorry–“

“(Y/N), it’s more than fine, okay ? I just acted a bit too confident, I learned a lesson today, love” He winked and tousled teasingly your hairs. “I think you should ask out Donovan, he will say yes. I have no doubt, he is not stupid to say no to an amazing girl like you” You blushed furiously at his words and thanked him with a happy smile.

If Roger knew you would date his...friend, he was a bit too jealous now to call him a friend, for four long years, maybe he wouldn’t have encouraging you. And after what Donovan did to you, you wished he hadn’t but none of you could have guessed what would happen. The blond was more than fine about you and his friend dating at the beginning but as months flew by, he found himself being a bit envious of Donovan. When he kissed you sweetly at you entered the pub or how happily you squealed when you announced to everyone that you were moving in together. It was some little things who made him thought how badly he wanted to be the one who make you so happy. But it wasn’t him and Roger was your friend so he kept his mouth shut and simply continued his life. The band had now Freddie as lead singer and John Deacon as bass player, touring and becoming more and more popular as years went by. Thankfully you and the boys remained close, everything was great until Donovan get a promotion for a job in New-York. Roger completely freaked out to see you move away from him, it was selfish but he couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing you anymore. It surprised everyone but you didn’t follow Donovan, you and him broke up and you stayed in London, Roger felt horrible but it couldn’t control how happy it had make him. You, in the other hand, was more than relieved that Donovan was now your ex-boyfriend, after years of suffering in silence, you were finally free of him. Everyone thought you were heartbroken because he left but the truth was you were broken because of all the awful things he did to you and no one never knew. You never told anyone, too ashamed to speak. That the event which leaded us to the third time Roger tried to ask you out.

Roger was nervous to see you again after touring for five months, he remembered how sad and broken you had been after your and Donovan’s break up but he was decided to make you smile again. He was dying to ask you out, feeling ready to commit himself to someone but only if that someone was you, he had a lot of fun during all these years but you had always occupied a little place in his thoughts, his feeling growing with the years. And now you were single again, he wasn’t a horny dog to jump on your bones as soon as you were free, he showed up at your place, with the firm intention to tell you he wanted to be with you, around a bit more than a year after your break-up with Donovan. You and Roger had been so close lately, he thought you were feeling like him. He was wrong.

“Hi (Y/N)” He said almost timidly as you opened your flat’s door, wearing your favourite pair of pyjama. You watched him surprised as he gave you the sunflower he had in his hand, a sweet smile in his face. Your forever favourite flower, how cute.

“Roger, what are you doing here ?” You asked as your fingers gently ran on the flower, you had almost forget how happy this simple gesture used to make you happy.

“I...I need to tell you something” You gazed back to him, his cheeks flushing lightly. You had no idea what all of this was about but it felt weird to see Roger so timid and awkward. “I like you (Y/N), a lot. I think you’re the prettiest, most marvellous girl I ever met and I think–“

“Rog...” You murmured with a sad grimace, the blond stopped talking as soon as he caught the look on your face, shame waving on him. You weren’t feeling the same.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I thought, after these past months, that you and me were on the same page but I guess I was wrong” He scratched his neck, cheeks crimson at the rejection.

“Roger I swear, it’s not about you, okay ? We did grow closer these past months but... I don’t want to date anyone for now. I’m not ready and honestly I have no idea when I will be, Rog” You explained with a little voice, feeling stupid to be still emotionally broken by your asshole of ex-boyfriend.

The drummer felt his heart melted at your state, he could see the sadness in your eyes, proving that you weren’t lying. You weren’t ready yet for anything new, of course he understood that.

“I asked you too soon, didn’t I ?” You nodded shyly and wiped away the single tear which escaped your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought...I mean you looked better than the first months so I gave it a chance. My mistake. But I guess you were too in love to forget him in only a year” The drummer tried to light up the atmosphere and you didn’t say anything about the fact that you weren’t in love anymore months before the break-up, you weren’t ready to tell anyone about this story.

“You have nothing to apologise for Rog. I hope we can still be friend even if I said no” You smiled sweetly and felt relieve when he smiled back, he wasn’t mad at you.

“Of course, love. You only rejected me three times, I have few more tricks in my sleeve” He winked playfully and both of you chuckled.

“Want to come in and watch a movie with me ? I got some leftover pizza” Roger nodded eagerly and followed you inside, both of you spending the evening cuddling on the sofa but nothing more happened that night.

“I think you had enough drinks tonight, buddy. Time to go home” The drummer glared angrily at the bartender but his head was spinning a bit so it was probably for the best.

He still drank the rest of his whisky and slowly made his way out before waving a taxi to go home. He fell asleep in the cab but once he was at home, he was decided to think about the three other times you had reject him. He needed to understand where it went wrong if he wanted a proper chance to move on.

*******************************************************************************************

#roger taylor x reader

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inevitable-anna · 5 years ago

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Escape The Night S4X01 Spoilers

I’m so sorry that this took so long! I accidentally deleted my draft, when I went to post it!

Hopefully, this should have a ‘keep reading’ thing so I don’t spoil the show for anyone.

[[MORE]]

I love the flashback of the first three seasons in the beginning! And uggghh Colleen's screams from the maiden still give me chills.

Yass that's my gal Liza "I'll come back for you" yes I love my explorer gal so much, I hope we see more of he- oh wait, she's dead. I do have some questions about her, so I may put them in another post if you are interested?

I don't trust the SAE. They still seem sketchy to me?

Everyone in the fandom had really cool and interesting theories about Bretman and why he was in this season. Then he finally shows up and it turns out Nikita (who looks great!) invited him and told him there'd be cute boys.

"what about me? I did cancel my livestream for this" Mat I love you.

The Collector looks awesome and she has a jewelled key! The medusa monster with her looks great too!

Anyone else slightly creeped out that the guests are wearing different outfits to the ones they died in? Did the Collector spend time picking out a new role and outfit for each guest? Did she make her lieutenants have a fashion show for her to see what outfits she liked? Did she have folders on potential roles and outfit ideas? I need answers here!

MY FAVOURITE GAL IS BACK!!! RO'S BACK! "She's dead, I'm dead, so I'm dead... so where am I?" I love her so much! Please let her escape this time!

I love Gabbie immediately asking questions, like 'the last thing I remember is having my heart ripped out and dying... so is everyone here dead? Let me check'.

"You literally pushed me into the box, Ro!" "We-well, everybody did"

"Umm... Alex, maybe "you know I killed both of you, right?" isn't the best thing to say at the moment?

I love Destorm and Gabbie immediately teaming up again, it's nice that they still have each other's backs!

I can't really see who says "did you kill me?" (Sounds a bit like Tana?) And who responded with "I thought you died with Vine?" But I love it so much.

"Hugs and kisses"? Really, Joey? "I do not like this" well! They probably didn't enjoy dying!

Anyone else slightly curious as to why Tana dressed like a cowgirl if her role is the 'Pin-Up Girl?' Am I being dumb?

JUSTINE! You have other things to worry about then 'residuals'! Do the smart thing, okay? get your residuals after/if you escape! Duh!

"You can't double die" are you sure about that, Destorm? I mean, this is 'Escape The Night' where the only consequence is death, even when you've already died!

"Nikita said there was going to be cute boys" "where?" Gabbie!

I'm loving Gabbie taking charge! "Okay, everyone stop fighting, I'm freezing. I look amazing but let's figure this out" anyone else get major "I'm hungry!" vibes from S2?

*guards appear* "I'm thinking maybe we are in heaven." Not the time Ro!

My man! Alex! He went off on that guard! He's come along way from "nobody was able to escape their deaths so I'm not going to try and fight mine" to attacking a guard! I mean, he lost the fight but he tried!

"The Enforcer don't run. I strut" yass, Destorm!

The Sorceress is back!! My favourite villain! "Last time we met, we killed each other, shall we do it again?" This is why the Sorceress is my favourite villain! She's so sassy!

Mortimer is back! Not sure if I trust him though?

"Mortimer is my man from when I was still alive, however somehow since I died, I have gotten married and had a baby" I laughed so hard at this because I didn't expect it at all!

Mortimer asking "Colleen, are you with Janet" is so sad! Though in the show, did he call her Janet or mum? Because isn't it slightly strange to refer to his mum as Janet? I don't know, I'm probably reading into this too much?

Tana doesn't remember what the Sorceress looks like? Gabbie's reply is brilliant! "She killed you, me and Destorm."

"She killed Alex, huh? I mean, you tell me, I was dead"

The Collector kept the Sorceress in her study?

The Sorceress teasing Joey with the onyx trinket is everything I needed in life!

Joey calling out the Sorceress for having a giant portrait of herself in her mansion after she calls the Collector a "pretentious b*tch" for having one is amazing!

"Isn't she a copycat?" Can the Sorceress stay with the group the whole season and make sassy comments, please?

"She wanna be you so bad" "Mm-hmm"

Okay, I have said this a few times already but I'll say it again, 'final death' SERIOUSLY?

"I like know I've done a lot of bad stuff and I might go to hell but I really didn't think it would be this early in life" and "I have been told quite a few times that there is a special place in hell for me, so, I don't think it will be too bad" are moods.

I find Destorm and Tim complaining about the others following the Sorceress really funny.

I laughed so hard at "I always learned never to trust strange, white women".

Tim attacking the air and saying "you gotta come around the corner like this" is really funny to me.

"Thanks for the help" Colleen, I can taste the sarcasm there.

I like that Alex understands that having a grudge against Joey is slowing them down, otherwise they would still be stuck in there for their 'final deaths' come morning.

20:59 isn't the painting that Tana takes down from the Sorceress' mansion in S2X04?

Destorm says he doesn't know who to trust so he's taking the lead, to me, that sounds like a logical thing to do?

"Now more shirtless men with knives are running at me, what is going on?" Well, you did agreed to come back for S4, Tana!

22:06 IT'S AN EGYPTIAN RUBIX CUBE!

I wasn't sure what to think when Bretman was announced for the S4 cast, but now he's here, I actually really like him! He's funny and I like that he sincerely thanks Justine for giving him the egg/eye thing. I look forward to seeing more of him in the show!

It's nice that Destorm is realising that Tana is more than a pretty face, now for the rest of the S2 group to realise that. It was one of the things that really annoyed me in S2 that they kept saying that Tana wasn't helping but when she offered to do something, the group wouldn't let her do it.

"Originally I was here on a rescue mission, but I feel like I just made things worse." Well, you haven't really rescued anyone yet? I mean, yes the guests are free from the exhibits but they're still trapped in the museum.

Joey, I agree with Tim! Make the guards dab or even better... make them twerk!

"Can they tell us where to find some food?" "I have breast milk" I choked.

I was not expecting the Sorceress to stab that guard! I mean, I guessed that the Sorceress would still be evil but I hope she sticks with the group for a little longer, purely because she's my favourite!

"This is something. A clue." The way Ro says clue is so cute and reminds me of 'Scooby Doo' for some reason?

"Most frightening exhibit yet" mark me down as terrified and intrigued!

Again, 'FINAL DEATHS' COME ON!

"It's fine, the SAE will get here before we even have to do any of that." Are you sure about that, Joey? Really sure? 100% sure? Absolutely, positively 100% sure?

Ro is so happy when Destorm tells the group about door. "Look at you being a team player" I would like to see them interact more, I feel like they would have an interesting dynamic.

"I think we just opened the Egyptian exhibit" really, Alex? I thought this was the Tudor exhibit! Because the Tudors love of Egyptian hieroglyphics is very well known!

Tana is pulling her weight and I love how the S2 group are like 'what? How?'.

The prosthetic makeup on the Pharaoh is amazing! He looks great!

"This beef jerky looking ass b*tch" Bretman is great!

At the end when the 'this season' bit plays, I slowed it down and watched it and spotted a Minotaur! Which will be awesome as I love Greek mythology!

Okay, so if you watch the 'this season' section, right at the end, you can see Benjamin/The Man With No Name so has the Collector collected previous lieutenants?

Again, I’m sorry that I didn’t get to post this yesterday because I was stupid and accidentally deleted my draft!

I hope you enjoy it and I would love to hear about anything you noticed during the episode or any questions! If you like this, I may be able to try and do one for ep2 as well.

Have a nice day!

#escape the night spoilers #escape the night all stars #escape the night 4 #escape the night

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drabblemeister · 6 years ago

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a Study in Red {4}

Read this chapter on Ao3! Pairing: JayTim Author’s Notes: I meant to post this last week but I got sick - boo! Sorry about that! Thank you for all of the kind comments, likes, and reblogs! You all are the absolute best. Hope you enjoy this next chapter! Chapter 4:

It was half past midnight when Roy slouched backwards against his chair, rolling his head back dramatically. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

It was enough to draw Tim’s attention from the couch, where he sat cradling one of Jason’s laptops. He’d borrowed it an hour or so earlier, intent on reading through all of the end-of-day reports he’d missed from WE.

“Too bad,” Jason replied, flinging the bow’s cracked cam piece at Roy’s unguarded chest. “It’s not going to fix itself.”

Even though Tim’s energy had been focused on stocks and upcoming company projects, he’d occasionally glanced over to the dining room table where Jason and Roy had decided to work. The night’s goal seemed to be re-wiring Roy’s bow, and due to the fact most of the replacement supplies were in the bay, they hadn’t made much progress.

“It ain’t gonna work even when it is fixed,” Roy said, tilting backwards in his chair. He’d caught the cam as it’d fallen to his lap, and now lifted his head in order to flick it back Jason’s direction. “Tension’s all wrong.”

Tim watched Jason catch the disk with both hands before setting it onto the table with a snap. A moment later, he kicked the leg of Roy’s chair, which sent Roy scrambling to keep his balance while yelling an offended, “Oi!” Jason’s direction.

Sliding an elbow forward and onto the table, Jason simply sighed before balancing his chin on the upturned palm of his hand. He delivered Roy a questioning smirk and said, “Don’t tell me it’s past your bedtime?”

For a moment, it looked like Roy might stay annoyed, but Jason’s slow smile seemed to give him life. “Why? You got somethin’ more fun to do?”

Tim filled the small gap of silence with loud clacking, his fingers dancing across the keyboard rhythmically. As the report came to life in front of him, he saw Jason’s gaze shoot his way in his peripheral vision. It only lingered for a moment, and that was because Roy made a sudden, sharp sound that evolved into a wistful sigh.

“I’d love to watch you restring my bow, Jaybird.”

Jason snorted. “As talented as these hands are, I don’t think they’re the solution to your problem.”

Without pausing in his typing, Tim said, “You should probably try a thicker gauge.”

The comment sat for a moment, drawing attention Tim’s way; even so, he continued on with his report. Roy’s tech was strikingly similar to a project he and Lucius had tackled a few years back, and so it was easy to see the gaps in what Roy had put together so far.

“If that wire snaps, my fingers go with it,” Roy finally said.

This time, Tim looked up, his typing slowing but not coming to a stop. “It won’t snap if you use a hard cam,” he commented before raising an eyebrow. “You’re probably using a round because it’s quieter, right?”

When Roy’s head tilted back, his hair fell loose across his cheek. “Can’t use a hard cam ‘cause it ruins the system. The shot ain’t reliable.”

Tim glanced at the bow, though he could only make out the bottom limb from where he was sitting.

“You’re using a hybrid?” he asked.

Roy nodded.

“Use a single. Custom doesn’t always have to mean more complicated. And if the sound is still an issue, switch out the arrester.”

Tim caught Jason staring at him with lidded eyes, wearing an expression he couldn’t quite place. It felt like one he should remember.

“Well, that settles it,” Roy slapped a hand onto the table just before pushing himself up. “You’re hired. It’s all yours.”

As Roy waved a hand across the entirety of the table, which was scattered with parts and pieces, Jason calmly caught his wrist. “Tim isn’t building your bow.”

“Ah, Jay,” Roy sighed, gently shaking his way out of Jason’s grip. “I wanna see if his hands are as talented as yours.”

Tim didn’t miss the unimpressed frown that tugged as Jason’s lips and Roy didn’t either, because his grin went wide as he glanced between them.

Roy said, “Maybe when he’s done, you can get him to polish your gun.”

Jason’s mouth opened, but Tim beat him to the chase.

“I have no intention of handling either of your malfunctioning weapons.”

Roy pressed his long fingers to his chest in feigned offense, looking lanky in the dim light.

In contrast, Jason slouched back lazily in his chair and rubbed his nose. “My weapon works just fine, thank you very much.”

“Hahaha!” Roy laughed. “Doesn’t mean Red here can’t help with the maintenance. Rumor has it you bats don’t get a lot of hands-on with pistols.”

Jason rolled his eyes and reached for his water bottle, which was tangled in cable wire.

Recognizing a challenge when he heard one, Tim sighed and swept section of hair behind his ear. When he spoke, his tone came languid; easy.

“You’re right,” he said, matter-of-fact. “Most of my hands-on involves my staff. It may not be much to you, but it’s long and gets more than eight rounds.”

Tim had expected a moment of quiet, one where he could hold Roy’s gaze in a silent dare to continue.

He did not expect Jason to spit up the water he’d been drinking in one, dramatic spray that soaked the entire table and it’s contents, threatening to kill the candle.

Roy didn’t bother looking at Jason; he simply kept his eyes on Tim, as if seeing him for the first time.

“Ohhh,” Roy drawled. “I like this one. Let’s keep him.”

Tim shifted in order to pull his phone from his back pocket. He hummed to himself as he said, “Opening calendar...right. Let this day be remembered as the one where I got the last word in against a certain Roy Harper.”

As his fingers poked at keys, Roy offered a dramatic bow of respect and tossed a smirk Jason’s way. And Jason - he responded by glaring from between his fingers, which he’d been using to shield his face, which had gone slightly red. He asked, “Weren’t you going to bed?”

Roy grinned like he’d won some unspoken battle, and gave Jason a significant waggle of his eyebrows. “You’re right.” Stretching his hands high, he took a few lofty steps away from the table and made a show of sitting on the edge of the couch. “Upsy-daisy. I’m sleeping here.”

Tim stared up at him. “What?”

Various pieces of Roy’s bow went clattering to the ground as Jason pushed up from the table, flicking a pointed finger Roy’s direction before tossing his thumb another, a clear and decisive demand for Roy to move it to the bedroom.

“Aw, but Jaybird,” Roy said. “You’re gonna make an injured kid sleep on the couch?”

At that, Tim felt offended. “Um, not a kid?”

“Roy,” Jason stated. “Get.”

As expected, Roy laughed, not at all intimidated. Tim watched him huff an amused sigh just before meandering down the hallway where he turned into the room Tim suspected housed an actual bed.

“I’m going to grab you some clothes,” Jason said, but Tim didn’t miss the grudging edge to his tone. He opened his mouth to tell Jason he was fine sleeping in what he had on, but the words didn’t make it to his lips.

He had class later, and wasn’t going to have time to run by his apartment. He’d have to make do wearing this outfit again. So, when Jason returned with a bundle, Tim simply set the laptop onto the coffee table, not bothering to close it.

Jason noticed.

“You need to get some rest,” he said.

The comment had the opposite effect. Instead of feeling any of his own exhaustion, Tim simply noticed the tired, darkened circles under Jason’s eyes and once again remembered the red-circled Friday on the calendar.

“You too,” he said, rising to his feet while holding out his hand for the clothes. He glanced down the hallway, distracted by the sound of Roy whistling. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

At the mention of the exam, Jason’s demeanor shifted; his gaze wandered and he seemed to remember that was a thing. He groaned, looking exhausted, and dragged a hand down his face.

“Ugh. Tomorrow is Friday.”

Tim thought that Jason’s anxiety had more to do with the significance of the diploma rather than his ability to actually get it.

“It’s only 2am. You have plenty of time,” Tim decided to say, just before giving Jason a questioning look. “Bathroom?”

There was only one, and it was a narrow space wedged at the end of the hall, just across from the bedroom. Tim got a modest glance at the space - saw a shape that resembled the foot of a bed and a square piece of furniture he assumed was a dresser.

The view was intercepted by Roy, who was dragging a heavy bag towards the door. When he caught sight of Tim, his lips folded to form a grin and he waggled his eyebrows in invitation.

Tim allowed his expression to fall flat with disinterest.

In the bathroom, one lone candle flickered, it’s wick burned to a hairsbreadth. Tim made quick work of changing, not entirely surprised when Jason’s loose, cotton sweat-shorts fell past his knees and hung loose on his hips. Less shocking was the size of Jason’s shirt; it’s wide neckline dipped low against Tim’s skin, not quite covering the smooth lines of his collar bones. It fell nearly halfway to his thighs, reminding Tim that Jason had a good seven inches on him.

When Tim ventured back to the living room, he watched as Jason returned his gun to its holster on the underside of the coffee table. When it was secure, Jason glanced up, only to look caught off guard.

“Yeah, I know,” Tim waved him off. “You should really take it easy on the protein bars.”

Jason’s eyes lifted until Tim caught them with his own. He expected a witty comeback. Instead, Tim watched Jason bite at his lower lip, as if whatever he had planned to say, he’d decided against it. Then, he was standing.

“Is there anything else that you need?”

Tim watched Jason’s eyes look everywhere but him. “Just your all clear to leave later,” he said, finally. “I have a class at eight.”

At that, Jason’s attention slid towards the bedroom. “If we haven’t been ambushed by now, I think we’re good.”

Tim agreed, but it felt like the right thing to get permission, seeing as to how it was Jason’s safehouse they were attempting to keep hidden.

Quiet stretched, one that felt strangely empty. Tim opened his mouth twice only to realize he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to say. Eventually, Jason drifted towards the table, picking up the bow parts he’d scattered earlier. Not too long after, Tim watched him disappear down the darkened hallway from above the screen of his laptop.

When his thoughts wandered too far, he pulled them back to his work. It was another hour before he finally decided to sleep.

***

By the time Tim’s alarm sounded, he was already awake. Jason had ventured out at some godawful early hour and Tim hadn’t bothered asking why; Roy’s cacophony of snores had woken him up as well.

He and Jason shared the couch, bookended and blearily dozing until Jason decided to do them both a favor and make coffee. It was the pick-me-up Tim needed, and within the half-hour he was dressed and ready to head out. When he confessed he would probably be about fifteen minutes early – a record, really – Jason shoved a protein shake at him and refused to disarm the premise until at least half of it was gone.

The bay looked the same as Tim remembered, and when Jason turned on the overhead lights, Tim blinked at the brightness. He was in the process of tugging on his helmet when Jason asked, “We on for tonight?”

It took Tim a moment to connect the dots, realizing tonight was Jason’s final opportunity to cram. He nodded. “My place?”

Jason tipped his head back to yawn and held his hand up, waving it no. When he could speak again, he managed a “Mine,” smacking his lips just before scratching at his scalp, sending his hair into a disheveled frenzy. “I’ve got a date with Ermanno Endrizzi tonight. Something tells me he’ll be wanting his breadsticks to go.”

Tim snorted as he righted his bike and took a heel to his kickstand. “Just text me. I’ve got two classes and a lab, and I should probably shower at some point.”

Jason looked impressed. “That’s it? By golly, that sounds like a light day.”

Tim said, “Whatever will I do?”

“Have dinner with me, apparently,” Jason replied. He took a moment to look smug about it, and Tim pulled his helmet down and over his face.

With a smirk, Jason raised the bay door and waved him off and Tim raced against time to make it to campus.

***

It was nearly evening when Tim left his lab, in dire need of both caffeine and answers. The former was easy enough to remedy, but the latter meant a quick trip to Wayne Enterprises. Since Tim had his own transportation today, he weaved inner-city rush-hour traffic and parked in an emptied, private lot.

This late, the building had mostly cleared out. Floor managers bustled in the lobby, overseeing registrars and receptionists as security shepherded their departure. His entrance meant undue attention and he wasn’t at all surprised when a manager came jogging after him in order to say, “I’m sorry, but the building is closing.”

The comment brought Tim to a halt; he’d nearly forgotten that he wasn’t dressed for the occasion. Fresh from classes, he was wearing faded denims, a graphic tee, and a jacket distressed more from wear than aesthetic. When he turned in acknowledgement, he threw his head a bit in order to slant his bangs sideways and out of his eyes.

“The internship program hours are nine-to-noon,” the manager went on to say, and Tim couldn’t help but be amused. The man was just like Bruce liked his floor-people: sour-faced and suspicious.

“Timothy Drake-Wayne,” Tim stated, holding out his hand. He’d long-mastered the art of standing his ground, and the look he delivered was enough to at least earn a pause. “I was hoping to catch Bruce before he left. Is he still around?”

When the floor-manager shook his hand, it was calculating. “Mr. Wayne wasn’t in today,” he said, and Tim felt slightly annoyed. Mostly it was because he couldn’t tell if he was being told the truth or being dismissed.

One of the elevators pinged, and since the lobby was nearly empty, the sound was loud enough to fill the space. A receptionist across the room scurried from behind her desk to greet whomever had descended and when Tim turned to see for himself, he bled a sigh of relief.

“Timmy?” Dick questioned, and he looked incredibly dapper in a suit he probably hadn’t worn in well over a year. His hair was artfully slicked back, and when his eyes danced up to the floor-manager, Tim found his hand immediately released.

“Hey,” Tim said, wondering what bet Dick had lost in order to be here, dressed like that. “Did I forget about an event?”

Dick laughed and it was perfectly charming. Since the receptionist had approached to ask if he needed anything else, he did the polite thing and told her she was free to leave for the evening – and while he did so, Tim delivered a smile to the floor manager that could have been interpreted a thousand ways. In the end, it got the manager to step aside, muttering a small apology before stepping aside, leaving Dick and Tim with due privacy.

“I thought you were sick,” Dick commented when he was close enough to give Tim a knowing look.

“I was,” Tim said, rolling his shoulder for show, “and thanks to modern medicine, I’m getting better. I just got out of class. I haven’t been able to get ahold of Bruce all day. Did he decide to go to the course?”

It was a code they’d used for forever, the course alluding to Justice League meetings, which typically came out of nowhere and meant no contact for days.

“Yeah,” Dick said. “You know how he likes to show off. He asked for me to drop by today since you’d be out. There’s a lot going on, you know?”

Tim nodded, not having to read between the lines. The extent of the cartel issue made more sense now that he knew the Triad was involved, and Tim suspected that Bruce had been reluctant to leave with so much up in the air.

“Walk you to valet?” Tim offered, and Dick looked pleased, giving a genuine smile at the invitation. There were less ears on their way to the curb, and Tim could still feel eyes on him - as if the late-shifters were attempting to memorize his appearance since he looked so different outside of starched material.

Together, they strided to the front door. Dick leaned forward to prop it open, leaving Tim to turn back and wave goodbye to the eyes that followed. When he was sure his words would go unheard, Tim asked, “Do you need me tonight?”

It had been two nights since his injury, which was more than enough time to be considered well enough to get back on the job. He hadn’t forgotten about Jason, but he knew this Endrizzi business would run late.

“If you could cover first patrol, you’d be saving a life,” Dick admitted with a wistful sigh. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast. By the time I realized I was hungry, this place had already sucked out my soul.”

Tim laughed. “Dramatic, much?”

“I dunno how you do it,” Dick replied. “That being said, Bruce won’t be in tomorrow. He wanted me to ask if you could fill in.”

As they rounded the corner to the valet desk and Dick retrieved his receipt from his wallet, Tim took the opportunity to dig his phone from his back pocket to navigate Bruce’s calendar.

Two hedge fund calls, an email reply to a state auditor, a new-hire tour and meet-and-greet. Nothing too taxing, though Tim wasn’t entirely sure what work he had to make up from missing both yesterday and today.

“So,” Dick said when he drifted back, digging hands in his pockets. He made an effort to watch the traffic beyond the lot, but only for a moment – and when his eyes found Tim’s, they were full of questions. “You and Jason, huh?”

Tim frowned. “Me and Jason what?”

Dick considered the question, searching Tim’s face before his lips folded to a smile. He abruptly seemed to decide the lot was more interesting. “Nothing.”

Dick’s car arrived before Tim could even feign curiosity and so he let the comment slide without a chase – immediately regretting it when Dick ruffled his hair, a habit he couldn’t seem to relinquish himself from.

“I’ll take over at 11. Sound good?” Dick asked, perfectly happy to let Tim jostle his hand away and take a cautious step back.

“Don’t be late,” Tim said, because he figured Jason would text by then. Dick straightened and saluted with all the seriousness he could muster, and then he was in his car and off to wherever he was staying while in town.

Tim watched traffic for a moment, debating on what he should eat before heading back to his apartment. In the garage, a white van drifted through, weaving other valet retrievals as if searching for an exit.

Tim watched, frowning.

In his hand, his phone buzzed, causing him to take a quick glance at the screen.

Might be finishing early, a text from Jason read.

In their line of work, early was relative.

Please, Tim texted. Take your time. I won’t be free until 11, and that’s if Dick’s not running late.

Boo, came Jason’s reply.

By the time Tim looked up again, the white van was gone. __________________________________________________________ A/N: Somewhere along the way, Roy became my fave character to write, LOL. I love how he picks on Jason, haha. Anywho, plot’s pickin’ up...

#jaytim #a study in red #ladelle writes

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argyle-s · 7 years ago

Text

The Shape of Things to Come Chapter 3/?

Rating: Mature

Read at Ao3

Start at the Beginning

After a year in the past, Kara makes her public debut as Supergirl.

Chapter 3 - Rebirth

Notes:

In this story, Kara will occasionally lapse into Kryptonian. The first instance of this happens in this chapter. The Kryptonian in this story is taken from Doyle Kryptonian which is where most of the Kryptonian used on the show is taken from. Translation was done using the resources at Kryptonian.info, and I suspect the quality of the translation will vary widely.

In the earlier drafts of this story, I either didn’t use Kryptonian, or I wrote the sections in English and set it off using special formatting, but I was unhappy with that, so I went back and rewrote them in Kryptonian. The problem with that is, the Kryptonian sections were written out of order and my skill with the language (such as it is) has improved considerably over time.

I’ve tried to go back and fix any errors, but:

1). The dictionary is fragmentary and I’ve had to work around holes in the language, or when I couldn’t, construct new words with guesswork.

2). I am absolute shit at learning languages that are whole and functional, so one that only exists in fragmentary form is even worse.

Any errors are mine. Any weirdness with the language and phrasing is either me being an idiot, or an artifact of my take on how Kryptonian culture and religious beliefs would influence speech patterns. My Krypton sticks as close as possible to the show, but I have made huge changes from comic canon to make Krypton fit more closely with our current understanding of what the reality of life would be on a planet in order around a red sun.

Most translations are fairly literal translations, though the order of the words is different, because English uses a Subject Verb Object sentence structure, whole Kryptonian uses Verb Subject Object sentence structure (example: The sentence "Kara punched Maxwell Lord" would be "Punched Kara Maxwell Lord" in a Verb Subject Object language like Kryptonian). In some cases however, the meaning in English can vary from the literal translation. In those cases, I will give the literal translation first, followed by the Semantic Translation.

Two final notes.

1). I take it as a given that Alex speaks Kryptonian, because she grew up with Kara, and she spent two years fiddling with Kara's pod and the hologram, and anything in canon that says she doesn't will be cheerfully ignored because it's bullshit.

2). Kara *does* know how to swear, but she’s only good at it in Kryptonian.

Update: This story has now been betaed by @ifourmindbeso. Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.

Kara Danvers’ Apartment. National City. Earth 38, October 8th, 2015

(One Year Later)

Kara opened the door to find a very annoyed J’onn standing there, glaring at her.

“Good morning,” she said brightly, waving him in. She walked over to the kitchen and pulled down a package of Chocos and a glass, which she filled with milk.

“You do realize the DEO is not eHarmony for aliens, right?”

“Compatible Partners,” Kara said as she took a bite out of her pre-breakfast bagel.

“What?” J’onn asked as he picked up a cookie and dunked it in the milk.

“eHarmony only does listings for straight people. Compatible Partners is the one for Gays and Lesbians. Besides, I use Chemistry.com.”

“I don’t care if you used gayalienbootycall.com. This arrangement is not so you can vet your dates.”

Kara sighed. “J’onn, I am not *dating* Maggie Sawyer. We’re just friends.”

“Oh, so you aren’t meeting her tonight at some place called Girlbar?”

“Well, yes, I am. But I don’t date women who are still heartbroken over their ex-girlfriends. Think of it as recruitment.”

J’onn held up his finger and started to say something, then stopped. He started to speak again, but stopped, before finally just shaking his head. “First you wanted me to do a full security clearance on that little computer nerd. Now this. How does any of this help us with your friends from Fort Rozz?”

“Winn helps because Winn is one of only six or seven hackers on the planet that can go toe to toe with a Coluan and come out on top, and unless you’ve suddenly managed to convince Victor Stone, Felicity Smoak or Rabiah Zinoman to sign up, we don’t have a lot of other options, because Tim Drake and Barbara Gordon are serious no-fly zones and the other two people who could potentially pull this off are definitely not on our side. Maggie Sawyer, on the other hand, will give us an in with NCPD, which is going to be incredibly useful when it comes time to lay the smack down on Maxwell Lord.”

“You know, you keep talking like you’re in this fight, but so far, all you’ve done is sit on the sidelines and feed us a few names.”

“You’re mad about the armored car last night,” Kara said.

“You’re damn right I am. Two agents in the hospital. One of them may never walk again. You could have stopped it, but instead, you’re fetching coffee for some-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, J’onn,” Kara said. “You know nothing about Cat Grant and much as I like you, if you insult her in front of me, I will put your green ass through a wall.”

J’onn sighed and held up his hands in surrender. “Fine.”

“Besides, you’re every bit as capable as I am, and you didn’t do anything to stop it either. We both have our reasons for keeping secrets.”

“Yeah, but your case is a little different.”

“It is,” Kara said. “But it would expose me while the leader of the escapees was away. If that happened, there would have been open war in the streets.”

J’onn sat down on one of her stools and picked up another Choco, dunking it in his milk. “You keep talking about this leader like you know him.”

“Her,” Kara said.

J’onn froze, with the cookie half way to his mouth. His eyes narrowed. “You do know her.”

“I do. General Astra In-Ze, War Leader of the House of Ze, Daughter of In-Ze and Myara Bar-Ul, and twin sister of Alura Zor-El.”

“She’s your aunt?” J’onn said.

“Yes,” Kara said.

J’onn popped the cookie in his mouth and started chewing, and Kara watched the emotions playing over his face.

“I didn’t tell you until now, because I thought you might decide I was a security risk.”

“Then why tell me now?”

“Because this is the last thing I need from you before I openly declare myself. Once Alex is safely out of the way in Geneva, little Kara Danvers is going to take the first of Astra’s heavy hitters off the board.”

“You have a plan?” J’onn asked.

“I do. You’re probably not going to like it, but I do.”

He reached up and started rubbing his temples. “What else is new?”

***

She smiled at Winn as he approached her with his tablet, walking beside her on her way to her desk.

“Did you see this? There was an armored car robbery last night. Now, there were no witnesses except this homeless guy who swears the perp had horns.”

“Thanks,” Kara said as she excepted a shipping tube from Brad with the proof of the new bus stop poster Cat needed to approve.

“Like, on his head,” Winn said as she turned back to him.

“Well, that’s usually where horns go,” she said. “But you’re sure it wasn’t just a prominent brow ridge?

“Come on Kara, it’s an alien.”

“I don’t know, Winn. I mean, Superman’s an alien, right? He seems to look pretty normal.”

“Well, how do we know? He could be hiding anything under that suit.”

Kara shrugged. “Isn’t James Olsen taking over the art department today? Maybe we could ask him. They seem close.”

“Now you’re just making fun me.”

Kara shook her head as she sat down. “Never. Well, except for when you lose at Small World.”

“Hey, your sister cheats.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Fine,” Winn said, as he went over to his desk and sat down, pointedly turning his back to her, which gave her just enough privacy to zap Cat’s Latte with her heat vision. “I won’t invite you to go see ‘The Martian’ with me then.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said, turning back to her.

“I can’t,” Kara said. “Maggie and I are going to Girlbar.”

“Really?” Winn said, a grin on his face. “When are you gonna introduce me to your hot cop girlfriend?”

“Winn,” Kara sighed. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Winn shook his head. “I never should have started you on Rizzoli & Isles. Now I’m destined to lose my gaming buddy to some tall, dark Italian Detective with a smoky voice.”

Kara laughed. “I told you I’m into blondes, but the medical examiner thing is just icky. Besides, Maggie is Latina and shorter than you are, which is saying something since I’m pretty sure you get carded going into PG-13 movies”

“That hurts,” Winn said, putting his hand over his heart. “That really hurts, Kara.”

“You were asking for it, standing there, being so short.” She paused for a moment, then looked up. “She’s here,” she said as she stood up, picking up her tablet and Cat’s Latte.

The elevator door opened, and Kara’s heart gave the same small little flutter that it always did when she saw Cat.

“Good morning, Ms. Grant,” she said, letting every bit of the happiness she felt come through. She’d been in the past for a year, and seeing Cat walk off that elevator never got old.

She saw the small tug of a smile that pulled at Cat’s lips before she started on her tirade. “The only reason I bought this building is because it has a private elevator. That way, I don’t have to get soaked in cheap cologne every morning getting to my office. Find out who used it, and have them reprimanded, or bathed. I don’t care which.”

Kara just nodded as she followed Cat into her office. “Here’s your Latte, Ms. Grant. Hot.”

Cat took it from her. “As always,” she said. “I have a meeting with the board today at lunch, so cancel sushi with my Mother.”

“Got it. Should I also cancel your therapist, since you aren’t seeing your Mother?”

“Good idea, Keira,” she said, then took a sip of the Latte. “Hmmm… This tastes different.”

“Noonan’s was out of hazelnut so I got you almond instead. I hope that’s okay.”

“I don’t hate it, but do have a talk with the management down there. If they’re going to take up space in CatCo plaza, they should at the very least be able to keep their supplies stocked. Also, I’ve emailed you a list. Prepare termination letters for the Tribune as noted.”

“Oh. Ms. Grant, I’ve been thinking about that and I’d like to make a recommendation.”

“You’ve been thinking about a decision you knew nothing about until ten seconds ago?” Cat asked.

“I’ve been thinking about it since the financials came in back in January. The Daily Planet’s the only print newspaper that isn’t taking a beating, and that’s pretty much entirely Superman’s doing. They put him on the cover something like fifty-three percent of the time.”

“Are you going to tell me something I don’t know, Keira?”

Kara nodded her head. “Well, we already do a lot of content sharing with digital, but I was thinking, why not merge the Tribune with digital entirely and try doing an interactive newspaper.”

“And how, exactly would that work?”

“A smartphone app. We could put QR codes at the end of each story, which link up to a digital expansion of the story. It’s sort of a hybrid monetization model. Digital gets the basic story for free, but people who buy the tribune get free access to the expanded story content, but digital-only users have to subscribe to get the expanded content.”

“Hmmm… That’s actually an interesting idea, but it doesn’t solve the immediate issues with circulation and it will increase the editorial load.”

“Not if we’re sharing the content across digital and print. We can even tie in to broadcast by including video segments as part of the expanded articles behind the pay wall. And the best part is, we can do a hybrid subscription model as well. Customers can choose to watch an ad before the video segment and have inline ads embedded in the expanded article, or they can pay for the content to get it ad free. We’d have to eat the losses on the Tribune while we restructured and built out the new workflow, but it would save a lot of jobs and we’d be ahead of the curve on digital and print integration.”

Cat stared at her for a minute, then nodded. “Hold off on the letters for now. Type this up as a proposal and go get me the layouts from the new art director.”

Kara grinned. “The proposal is already in your drop box. I added it last night. I’ll go get you the layouts now, Ms. Grant.”

***

She stepped into James’ office with no small amount of trepidation. Her relationship with James was one of the biggest regrets of her previous life. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been attracted to him. She liked guys well enough, from a purely physical stand point. She mainly told people she was a lesbian because homoromantic bisexual was confusing to a lot of them and that was before she even got into questions of species. The problem with James was, she’d been more in love with the idea of him than she had been with him and James had been more in love with his idea of her than with her. Things might have gone differently if they’d gotten together before Myriad and her death ride with Fort Rozz, but that day had changed something inside Kara. It had burned away so much of what Eliza and Jeremiah and society in general had saddled her with in terms of expectations of who and what she wanted to be and left a truer, purer version of herself behind. Her feelings for James had been part of that, but it had resulted in a lot of awkwardness and hurt feelings on James’s part.

It didn’t matter, because Kara was determined not to not make the same mistakes again. No dating James and no Battle of CatCo plaza, either.

“Mr. Olsen, are you here?” Kara asked.

“I’ll be just a minute,” came a muffled voice.

Kara stepped a bit further into the office, and spotted James digging through a pile of boxes.

“I’m just here for the layouts,” she said. “If you tell me where they are, I’ll get out of your way.”

“No trouble. Just let me finish here and I’ll get them for you.” He looked up from the box of trophies and plaques he was going through and stopped for a moment. “Hey,” he said as he stood up. “I’m the new guy.”

Kara nodded. “James Olsen, I know. Clark speaks very highly of you,” she said.

“You know Clark?” he asked.

“Of course. Oh,” she stuck out her hand. “Sorry, I’m Kara Danvers. Clark’s my cousin.” She saw a bit of surprise in his face, probably at the idea that Kara would be so open about their relationship. “Don’t tell anybody though. Cat would probably think I’m spying for the Planet if she knew.”

James laughed and took her hand, shaking it. “Now that does sound like the Cat Grant I know.”

Kara looked over, and let herself smile as she caught sight of the print of James’ photo of Kal. “And there’s the photo,” she said, letting go of James’s hand, and stepping around him. “You do good work. This almost looks like he posed for it.”

“He did,” James said. “Don’t tell anyone though. They might take away my Pulitzer.”

“Couldn’t have that,” Kara said as she lifted the print. “I’ve got to ask. What what’s he really like?”

This time James smiled, and Kara wanted to kick herself for not seeing the way he felt written on his face the first time they’d had this conversation. “He’s everything you want him to be and more. I mean…” He chuckled. “I was scared to move out here, but, uh, he told me the biggest risk was never taking any, so…”

Kara nodded and looked down at the print again, running her fingers over the image of her baby cousin in all his heroic glory. It was easy to let the longing shine through. She hadn’t seen Clark since she came back, and before that, he’d been dead for years in her personal timeline.

“Take it.”

“Hmmm?” she said, looking up at James.

“Take it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Kara smiled. “Thank you.” She looked down at the print for another moment, then back up at James. “Layouts?”

“Oh,” he said. “Yeah.” He picked them up off the light table and handed them to her. “Nice to meet you, Kara Danvers.”

“And you, James Olsen,” she replied, taking the layouts. “I’d better get these back before Ms. Grant fires someone.”

***

In the year since Kara’s trip back from the future, she’d mostly avoided dating. She hadn’t done it at all in the first month or so, but Eliza had kept hounding her. Finally, during Thanksgiving Dinner, she’d just told Eliza she didn’t want to be set up on a blind date with her old college roommate’s son because she didn’t want to date men at all. That had gotten Eliza to back off for exactly two weeks.

It wasn’t terrible, but Kara always felt a little guilty since the dates weren’t going anywhere. She wasn’t really over Sara and the Supergirl thing was coming. She knew what that would do to any potential relationship. She dated mostly to humor Eliza, and to help Alex keep Eliza off her back. She’d actually made a handful of casual friends she hung out with now and then and she’d managed to talk Cat into adding an LGBT-focused section to the CatCo website and to the magazine, which had done so well Cat was considering launching three topic-focused print magazines, and five topic-focused websites.

Maggie, though, had been one of the few good things that had come out of the dating thing. She knew the woman from the previous timeline of course and never would have agreed to a date with her, because dating your sister’s future wife was surely against some rule somewhere. But she’d been sitting in a bar, nursing her third virgin strawberry daiquiri after one of her Eliza-arranged blind dates had failed to show, when Maggie had sat down next to her and ordered a whiskey.

Kara couldn’t believe her luck. She’d struck up a conversation and for the last four months, she’d spent almost as much time with Maggie as she did with Winn. There wasn’t anything romantic about it, mostly because of the future Kara had lived through, but also because Maggie had been going through a long and nasty break-up with a girl named Darla, so Kara had spent a lot of time being a shoulder to cry on.

It hadn’t even really been much of a decision to bring Maggie into the fold earlier than before, because Maggie was amazing.

Tonight though, was something Kara had arranged carefully. She’d checked to make sure the bar had TVs that ran local stations so she’d get the news. She’d also set up news alerts for flight 237 Geneva and National City Airlines and directed them to her burner phone. The driver’s license in her purse was a duplicate, and the glasses she was wearing were a pair of cheap reading glasses she’d picked up at a Walgreens. The purse had a few other odds and ends in it. A spare lipstick, and a tube of lip gloss, a half empty tin of breath mints, a couple of tampons, an expired can of pepper spray left over from her college days. A couple of Noonan’s receipts, a bit of loose change, 62 dollars in cash, and a prepaid debit card. Nothing she couldn’t afford to lose, on the off-chance Maggie reacted poorly to finding out she was an alien without almost a year of history as Supergirl under her belt, but enough that it looked like it was Kara’s actual purse.

The whole thing would look careless to Maggie, like she was in a blind panic. Maggie, being Maggie, would try to return the purse and that would give Kara a way to induct her into team Supergirl.

She spotted the woman sitting at a table, checking her watch. When she looked up, her eyes fell on Kara, and Kara waved as she walked over.

“Hey, Maggie,” she said as she dropped into the seat across from her.

“Hey,” she said. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” Kara replied. “Not too bad yourself.”

“How’s Cat treating you?”

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. It’s a good week though. She’s only fired me twice.”

Maggie laughed. “Only you would consider that a good week.”

Kara shrugged. “It’s not like it ever sticks.”

“What’s the count up to?” Maggie asked.

“One hundred and ninety-eight. Looks like Kelly from fashion is going to win the pool.”

“I bet Winn will be disappointed.”

“Probably,” Kara said. “How’s the X-Files treating you?”

“Oh, you know, same old, same old. Men in black apparently abducted a birdman in Chinatown last night, and a Klingon with a glowing axe jumped the fence at the airport.”

“Sounds like a fun week,” Kara said, but she felt a small moment of worry. The Klingon with the glowing axe sounded a little too close to Vartox for comfort.

“Yeah. One more day and it’s over,” she said.

“Any plans for the weekend?”

“Not really,” Maggie said.

Kara rolled her eyes. “You are not going to sit at home and mope over she who will not be named.”

“I’m not moping,” Maggie said.

“No, you’re not. We’ll do something.”

“Like what?”

“There’s a women’s volley ball tournament down at National City Beach this weekend. We could go watch.”

“More like go so you can drool over the players.”

“I was thinking something more along the lines of me being your wing woman.”

“Kara, you would make the worst wing woman in history.”

“I would not!”

“Oh, do not give me those puppy dog eyes. No one is going to take a second look at me if you’re there.”

“That wouldn’t be an issue if you’d let me introduce you to my sister.”

“Your sister is straight,” Maggie shot back.

Kara snorted. “My sister is in denial,” she replied. “Trust me, she’d take one look at you and there would be an Alex-shaped hole in the closet door.”

“I’ll pass on the sister and the volleyball. Seriously, I-”

Kara held up her hand as she turned around.

“If you’re just joining us, shortly after take-off, National City Airlines, Flight 237 bound for Geneva is experiencing some loss of altitude. The pilot seems to be circling the city after apparent engine failure.”

Kara turned back to Maggie as she pulled open her purse, and took out two twenties. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” she said as she threw the money on the table.

“What? Why?”

“That’s my sister’s flight,” Kara said as she started towards the door. She didn’t wait to see if Maggie followed her. She didn’t need to. She heard the scrape of the feet of the bar stool as Maggie stood up. Heard the sound of the soles of her shoes hitting the ground. Felt the disturbance in the air as Maggie chased after her.

Kara moved more slowly than she could have. She knew she had time to spare. She’d picked the bar because it was along the flight path, and this time, she was neither out of practice flying, nor was she unfamiliar with the aircraft in question. She was already pulling her jacket off as she ducked into the alley, and she could sense Maggie coming around the corner as she tossed it aside. She ripped off the cheap drug store glasses and threw them in the same direction as the jacket as she ran, then she bent her knees and kicked off.

She nearly laughed when she heard Maggie scream, “Holy shit.”

Then she put everything out of her head but the task at hand.

She approached faster this time, her flight skills fresh and practiced from her regular runs out to Sanctuary, which is what she’d named her own not so little Fortress of Solitude. When the engine broke free, instead of plowing through it and showing the city with flaming debris, she caught it, and with a deft spin and shove, sent it splashing down gently into the bay. She wasted no time trying to push against the wing. Instead, she flew up under the plane and punched through the skin, grabbing the frame member tightly, and pushing up. There was no desperate turn to keep the wings from getting clipped. The plane cleared Otto Bender Bridge easily, and then Kara started a slow, gentle turn. The plane cleared the bridge a second time, before Kara guided it down gently into the water.

Once it had settled into the water, she kept pushing, sliding it along the surface, using her x-ray vision to make sure she didn’t hit anything until she ran it aground near the I-210 off ramp for National City Bay Beach. Once the nose of the plane was pushed up on dry land, Kara let go of the plane, and swam out, climbing up on the right wing. She stood, watching through the skin of the plane as people took movies and snap shots, before she gave Alex a nod through the window, and shot into the sky.

***

Kara had gone back to the alley, not at all surprised to find her purse, jacket and glasses gone. She’d known Maggie wouldn’t leave them. She’d been a bit worried she’d find the detective at her door, but as luck would have it, she was alone. She’d showered, eaten an order of fifty buffalo wings, and was most of the way through her large supreme pizza, while watching the news coverage.

“The passengers of Flight 237 appear to have a guardian angel. When, what many report to be a female flying form rescued them from certain death.”

“Leyna Nguyen is live at the scene.”

“Thank you, Rick. Guardian Angel would appear to be right. Not only did she rescue the passengers from a tragic end, but reports also indicate that she caught one of the plane’s engines as it broke free and kept it from falling on the city, and prevented the plane from hitting Otto Bender Bridge not once, but twice. Then, after setting the plane down in National City Bay, she pushed the plane up on shore, making rescue efforts and clean-up easier and much safer.”

“Oh, my god,” Alex said.

Kara hopped up from her spot on the couch and hugged her sister, careful not to bruise her this time. She stepped back, holding Alex by her shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She watched as Alex rubbed her forehead, and did her best not to sigh. She knew what was coming, and she’d been dreading this part of the night.

“Let me get you a drink,” she said. She walked over to her small kitchen and poured Alex a glass of the Johnny Walker Blue Label Alex kept at her apartment. She put the glass in Alex’s hand, and waited for her to drink it.

“So, let’s hear it,” Kara said.

“Hear what?” Alex asked.

“The part where you yell at me for exposing myself to the world, and tell me I can never use my powers again.”

“It sounds like you already know what I’m going to say,” Alex said.

Kara nodded. “You know, given how much you complain about Eliza, you sound just like her.” It was a low blow, and Kara knew it, but the flinch from Alex still made her wish it hadn’t been necessary.

“Because she’s right about this, Kara,” Alex said. “It’s not safe. What if people figure out who you are? What you are?”

“Then they figure it out. I didn’t travel two thousand light years to be an assistant my whole life. I had a mission, and maybe, yeah, it was already over when I got here, but that doesn’t change who I am. /.nahn khuhp w ,kahrah,zor,ehl .nahn khuhp w tiv inah ewuhshehd im ,kryptahnium, .nahn khuhp w aonah wukhaiiu zrhythrev ,ehl,/ My mother was Alura In-Ze, the chief Adjudicator of Argo, my Aunt was Astra In-Ze, a General and the War Leader of the House of Ze. I am the granddaughter of In-Ze, Myara Bar-Ul, Seg-El and Nimda An-Dor and descended in direct line from Erok-El and from the War Queens of the House of Ze.”

“Do you know what that means? My people, my culture, my entire world may be dead, but I am still a child of Rao. /.nahn ,rao, i chahvehd shokhpahs w pahdh tiv aorghahs ni waila/ I have not forgotten, and I will not bring shame to my house by hiding who I am like some coward. There are people out there who need me. People who I can help. If that means I have to take a few risks, then I will take those risks.”

“Kara-“

Kara held up her hand. “No. No, you should go. Go home, get some rest. Get used to the idea that this is happening.”

Alex huffed, in that special way all big sisters have when they want to let their little sister know they’re being annoying and unreasonable. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Alex said.

Translated from the Kryptonian:

.nahn khuhp w ,kahrah,zor,ehl I am Kara Zor-El

.nahn khuhp w tiv inah ewuhshehd im ,kryptahnium, I am the last daughter of Krypton

.nahn khuhp w aonah wukhaiiu zrhythrev ,ehl, I am the eldest child of the house of EL

nahn ,rao, i chahvehd shokhpahs w pahdh tiv aorghahs ni waila Rao’s first law is to make the universe whole.

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xmcmusesx · 7 years ago

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Don’t Take the Girl | Drabble

Written for: @soldierheartcd

Characters: Tuck Bailey-Jones & Delia Burton (with mentions of Ben, Miranda, and Teddy)

Song based on: Don’t Take the Girl by Tim McGraw

tuck was excited. he’d been waiting for this day for what seemed like forever. ben was taking him fishing, and the 8-year-old was incredibly ecstatic. with as much as his mom and ben worked, he felt that he hardly spent time with either of them. spending the entire day fishing with his stepdad was going to be great.

until he saw her.

delia burton was the 5-year-old who lived next door. her mother worked with tuck’s mom and stepdad at the hospital; the same hospital where her father had passed away.

it appeared to tuck that delia had seen them walking out with their fishing gear, grabbed her pole, and ran out to meet them. he knew what was going to happen next before it did. ben and miranda were always inviting delia - and sometimes her mom - to their family activities. they wanted them - particularly delia - to feel included after her father’s death. so it wasn’t a surprise when ben turned to him and said,

“i know you don’t want her to go with us, but you’ll change your mind about that one day.”

“i doubt that,” tuck responded. “can’t we invite one of my friends? one of my guy friends?”

he knew the answer even before he saw ben shaking his head and loading their poles - all three of them - into the cab of the truck. tuck’s excitement turned to disappointment, but he still enjoyed himself while fishing.

there were more of these excursions over the years, and to tuck’s dismay, he realized ben had been right. when he was 17 and delia was 14, he started to see her in a different way. it took a while, but he finally worked up the nerve to ask her out, and was pleased when she said yes.

he knew some people frowned upon the age difference, but neither of them cared. they were in love. on their one year anniversary, they were on their way to watch a movie they’d both been wanting to see when the unthinkable happened.

he felt delia pulled away from him and froze when he saw the man who had her also had a gun in his other hand.

“give me all your money, and she won’t get hurt,” the man demanded.

“please, don’t hurt her!” tuck cried. “here -- here’s my wallet, my watch, my car keys. take it all. just please don’t hurt her.”

the man pushed delia back to tuck before grabbing everything off the ground and fleeing. tuck wrapped his arms around the blonde and held her close. they were both shaken up, but they were both alive and they knew they were lucky to say that.

they went home, and though it took some time, they were able to get over the fear and trauma of that night. they even went back to the theater again - although that happened a few months after the night of the attack.

more time passed, and when delia turned 18, tuck proposed. delia said yes, and the two began the process of planning their wedding. they ended up getting married a year later, and soon after their wedding found that they were expecting their first child.

it was a very exciting - and nerve wracking - experience. with each month that passed, and each new milestone - the first time the baby kicked, hitting the viability mark, finding out the sex of the baby - they found themselves getting more and more excited to welcome their little bundle of joy into their lives. and then, nine months after learning they had conceived, delia was telling tuck that it was time to go.

tuck flew into a frenzy, making sure they had everything they would need. when all of their bags - and both of them - were loaded into the vehicle, he took off to the hospital. they were both extremely excited and very nervous for what was about to come.

however, a couple of hours after arriving at the hospital, something started to go wrong, and delia had to be rushed in for an emergency c-section. tuck wasn’t allowed to go back there with them, and the entire time he was waiting for news, he paced. he was surprised there wasn’t a hole in the floor from how much walking back and forth he had been doing. he only stopped pacing when he saw delia’s doctor walking towards him.

“you have a son,” the doctor began, “and he’s doing fine. but your wife...” the doctor paused for a moment before putting his hand on tuck’s shoulder. “there was a lot of blood loss. we’ve done everything we can, but it doesn’t look good.”

tuck’s legs wobbled and gave out and he hit his knees hard. there were tears in his eyes as he looked up and began to speak.

“take me instead,” he pleaded with a god he wasn’t sure he believed in. “let me take her place. please - don’t take her away.”

he was still on his knees, pleading with god silently, when a nurse ran out to the doctor.

“she’s awake!” the nurse exclaimed, to which tuck let out a loud sob, thanked god profusely, and stood up. there was no way he wasn’t going to follow them back to see her. and as he walked back to her room, all he could think about was one thing: ben had been right all those years ago. tuck didn’t want anything to take delia away from him.

#soldierheartcd #drabble #don't take the girl

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embracetheapocalypsewithme · 7 years ago

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Cursed Land, Part 1: The Black Box

This is the first part of a multi-chapter fic for @ladylorelitanyfanfiction‘s / @ladylorelitany’s Monster Mash challenge. It took me a little longer than usual to write this fic because life has been so hectic lately, and it’s put quite a halt to my writing. My partner and I have had a streak of bad luck, that has finally turned the corner (yay!).

It’s almost creepy that I am writing under the prompt “Wendigo” while this is happening, because it is typically thought that to even think about these creatures too deeply is to invite misfortune. Spooky stuff!

Part 2: September

Part 3: The Call of the Void

Part 4: The Abyss

Summary: The Sanctuary is in the grips of a bad growing season and the food supplies have begun to dwindle. Before harsh winter conditions set in and their citizens begin to starve, Negan and Rebecca prepare for a final scavenger run.

Things begin to get strange when Rebecca notices an area of Negan’s map that has been blacked out, and he refuses to tell her why. Gradually, she becomes more intrigued about what has the seemingly fearless leader of the Sanctuary so scared. Will she find out too late that some fates are worse than death?

Word Count: 2,323

Warnings: Language, horror, and (hopefully) this is legitimately frightening.

Cursed Land, Part 1: The Black Box

“So, should I ask the obvious question here?” Rebecca’s green eyes flashed up at Negan from the map that sat between them on the table.

They were in the middle of planning for that evening’s scavenger team meeting, and had been discussing potential excursions for well over an hour. The air in the room had grown stifling, and the young woman was desperate to wrap things up so that she could slink away to their bed for a quick nap before jumping back into the discussion with the rest of the team later. Maybe a change of subject would draw things to a close.

“Hm?” Negan’s gaze remained glued on the map. From his furrowed brow, she could tell that he was lost in thought and hadn’t registered what the head scavenger had asked him.

His focus was understandable as the meeting they were preparing for was to be integral to the community’s long-term survival. The inhabitants of the Sanctuary had just endured a season of harsh growing conditions, leaving them with scant food supplies for the coming winter months, when travel would be nigh on impossible.

With autumn providing them only a few short weeks of safe passage to the surrounding towns and communities, it was vital that they be as strategic as possible. They would have to gather enough supplies to get them through the cold, dark months ahead until they could begin planting again. Lives depended on it.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then…” she paused for a moment, trying to choose her words carefully, “What’s with the black box?”

“Black box?” his eyes finally lifted to meet hers and the expression he wore was one of genuine confusion.

Rebecca poked a section of the map, located in the northwest, which had been covered over by thick, black scribbles in a rectangular pattern. She repeated her question: “What’s with the black box?”

“Well, that’s more of a rectangle, isn’t it Fuckface? I think, by definition, a box has to be in 3D.”

“Smart ass,” she mumbled,” Ok, so what’s with the black geometric shape on the map?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. People don’t just draw giant black boxes over big sections of map for no reason. Plus, if you had been doodling, you and I both know that you would have drawn a cock on here instead. So, why don’t you tell me?”

“Drop it, Rebecca.”

Negan’s voice had lowered to a whisper and the use of her real name instead of the “Fuckface” moniker caused the easy grin to fade from the young woman’s lips. As her gaze lifted back to meet his, she found herself scrutinizing the face of a man who had stared down extreme danger for her on more than one occasion with a smile, only to find his expression now stricken, his skin pale, and his brow covered in perspiration. His eyes had narrowed to slits and he repeated those words quietly: “Drop it.”

Feeling a lump rising in her throat, she persisted, “I don’t see why you can’t just tell me. Is it dangerous? Did something happen there?”

Negan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, “You’re not gonna fucking listen to me, are you?”

“Do I ever?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light and playful, but a fearful edge had crept into her voice in spite of her best efforts.

He shook his head, “Look. I’m not going to- I can’t get into it, actually. Just promise me that you’ll never go there. No matter what happens to me now or in the future. You need to promise me, Rebecca. Never fucking go into those woods, ok?”

Rebecca studied his face, looking for signs that he was joking with her, “You’re fucking with me now. Come on, Neegs, you know I hate scary shit, so knock it off! I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“No. I most certainly am not goddam fucking with you right now, Rebecca,” he reached out and took her hand over the map, their extremities dangled over the dark stain on the paper’s upper edge, and Rebecca felt herself shudder and nearly recoil to avoid touching it, “I would tell you more if I could, but I can’t talk about it. It’s not safe, and we’re in a bad enough spot as it is, after the season we just had. Just, please, for the love of fuck do not ever go to that place.”

“You’re scaring me, Negan,” she said weakly, “I-is it the dead? Is that why?”

“No,” he replied solemnly, “All, I’ll say is this: There are worse things out there than fucking walkers. They can kill you and give you a hell of a painful death, but they can’t do anything to you after that. They can’t fuck with your soul.”

Rebecca felt her mouth open and then abruptly shut without saying a word. She had never seen Negan act this way. Nothing ever seemed to faze him. There was no situation too dire for him to quip sarcastically about or make light of. But something about the woods in that part of the map seemed to have him terrified.

“Ok, Negan. I won’t go there. No matter what. I understand.”

She felt his grip on her hand loosen and the air in the room seemed to lighten at her words.

“Good. Now let’s get back to this planning shit, shall we?”

She nodded and let the conversation about potential scavenging targets resume, but her eyes kept wandering back to the black box in the corner of the map. What could have happened in that place that made her fearless leader so afraid that he couldn’t even speak about it? Although she knew that she was far better off to forget the topic, a part of her remained morbidly curious.

The evening’s meeting passed blissfully quickly, culminating in a decision to send out two teams to separate locations in order to increase their chances of finding useful supplies. Rebecca and Chris would head to a small town in the North-East with one of Negan’s long-time Saviours, a large and intimidating man named Robert, for protection. This was an area they had already visited a number of times, but Rebecca was hopeful that there would still be some items left for them to use.

The other team consisted of Ben, Tim, Sylvie and Negan himself. This larger group would travel south to hit an area they had only explored a handful of times, in the hopes that they would strike gold. Some of the scouts thought that they spied a school during their last trip there. If they were correct, and if the school had a cafeteria, it could keep them in canned goods for months to come. Both teams would set out for the journey the following morning.

After the meeting had wrapped up and the group had departed for the evening, Negan and Rebecca were left alone in his office. She had begun to move chairs back into their original places from the circle they had been placed in during the discussion. Preoccupied with anxiety about the upcoming mission, the petite woman didn’t notice Negan step behind her until he had placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump a little.

“Jesus! Don’t sneak up on people! That’s a really good way to get accidentally stabbed these days, you know,” she mumbled.

“Fuck…sorry! I thought you knew I was there,” he replied sheepishly, “I’ll be back in a minute. Gotta catch Robert and go over some shit. Then I have to take a piss.”

“Thank you for sharing your bathroom activities. I love to know these things about you.”

“Gross,” he said bluntly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, fuck off! You’re the gross one!” she smiled back and resumed moving chairs, “See you in a bit.”

“You know it, Fuckface!” With that, he left the room, carelessly allowing the door to slam shut a little too loudly behind him.

Once the chairs had been cleared away, Rebecca moved on to folding up the map, which stretched across the large, wooden coffee table in the centre of the room. As she approached the over-sized piece of paper, her eyes trained once more on the dark stain in the upper left quadrant of the page.

Her mind wandered back to that afternoon’s conversation with Negan. Something that could frighten him to that extent may be dangerous, but fuck was she intrigued! She needed to know more about what had happened to him in those woods. But how could she convince him to talk to her about something that he clearly didn’t want to go into?

A sudden memory caught Rebecca, causing her to spin in the direction of the heavy wooden bureau that the Sanctuary’s leader kept in the far corner of the room. Its deeply lacquered finish gleamed in the light of the lamps that dotted the area around it.

His journal was in there. He had mentioned it once, but she had never bothered to ask him any further questions about its exact contents. All she knew was that, before initially meeting Dwight’s group all those years ago, Negan had wandered the roads and forests of the area alone for many months after the outbreak had begun. During that time, he kept a journal of his experiences. Not for sentimental reasons, but simply to keep track of time, and to provide a historical record of what he assumed would be his final days on earth, for someone else to find after he was gone.

Even for someone who was sleeping with the man, reading his journal seemed way too intimate to Rebecca. She turned away for a moment, trying to fight the impulse to cross the room and begin opening drawers in search of the book. There was no guarantee that the incident in the woods had even happened when he was writing the journal. And even if it had been, maybe he had omitted it.

But something drew her to the bureau. It was almost as if she was being pulled there by a force outside of herself; curiosity burned at the back of her skull as her steps slowly dragged her forward. Once she had crossed the room, she reached a pale and shaky hand out to grasp a small bronze knob and pulled the upper right-hand drawer open. The book was right there in plain sight, just as she somehow knew it would be.

Her pulse quickened, thudding dully in her ears as her fingers grazed the cover. Nothing about the book’s appearance let on that its contents could be extraordinary in nature: the cover, a bright primary blue, was made of durable plastic and silver wire looped through a series of holes down the left side of the book. The plastic had cracked around several of the holes and she could see that the edges of some of the paper were dog-eared and worn.

She placed the book back in its hiding spot and sat in Negan’s chair mere moments before the office’s heavy door creaked open and the man himself stepped into the room.

“Hey, Fuckface! Miss me?” he asked cheerfully.

“Me? Miss you? Never!” she replied with a smirk, crossing her legs and leaning back into the chair.

“Well, I missed the fuck out of you,” he crossed to the centre of the room, “Look at you sitting there all cute at my desk. It’s real fucking sexy.”

“Nope!”

“Nope what?”

“No sex. Not tonight. We both need some sleep before tomorrow and it’s late.”

He sniffled dramatically, feigning sadness, “Are-are you rebuffing me, Fuckface? Well, I am hurt!”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get over it. Now let’s get our asses to bed, ok?”

Rebecca lay awake in the darkness of their bedroom for a long time, listening to Negan’s breathing slow and deepen as sleep took him into its depths. A few soft snores began to break the room’s silence, letting her know that he was well and truly out. She smiled to herself: Negan would hate it if she ever let him know that he snored.

She gave it a few more minutes before quietly slipping from the sheets, making sure that her weight didn’t cause the floor to creek as she moved through night into the hallway outside. Once the door was firmly latched behind her, she quickened her pace, moving like silk down the hallway until she stood in front of the imposing doors which led to Negan’s office.

The door was locked, of course, but she had a key. She was one of only two people, aside from the office’s owner, who had been trusted with unsupervised access to the space. As she slid the key into the lock, she considered that this trust may have been misplaced. What was she doing here, in the middle of the night, getting ready to read the secrets of the man she loved? How was that healthy?

And furthermore, why did she seem completely unable to stop herself from doing so?

Pushing her guilt aside, she re-bolted the door behind her and crossed the room to the bureau for the second time that night. She opened the drawer, more confidently this time, and plucked the notebook from its place.

Grabbing a nearby lamp, she moved to the chair she had sat in earlier and opened a side-drawer to find a half-used box of matches with which she lit the lamp. The soft amber glow created a small pool of light for her to read by. The moonlight streaming in from the room’s huge windows cast the rest of her surroundings in a silver, nearly ghostly glow.

She opened the book to the first page, folding it out along the bureau’s smooth surface. Taking a deep breath, she began to read the first page.

#comicnegan>#negan fanfiction #Negan's thirst squad #negan #twd fanfiction

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