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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Creation”

Happy Saturday, everyone! Oh man, oh man, oh man. I think I'll need to steer clear of the general RWBY tags this week, simply because I know the sort of responses I'll see to this episode. From smug celebration at Ironwood's downfall, to bad takes about what makes us human, this episode is a petri dish of sensitive material handled insensitively.

Let’s unpack it, shall we?

We open on an action that feels like a summery of the last three volumes: a grimm attacks an airship from the front, no doubt killing its pilot, while the other grimm conveniently ignore our heroes, no masking in sight. The group looks a little sad at the destruction around them, but ultimately ignore it because they have bigger, heroic things to do. I could write a whole, additional essay on how the huntsmen code — to protect the people — has been warped and abandoned by our protagonists in their effort to do what they think is right. It's a tale that might have been compelling if only RT knew they were writing it.

We get a shot of Atlas drones unloading the bomb before one is taken out, presumably by Qrow and Robyn. Segueing to Ironwood and the Ace Ops, they're waiting for Penny to arrive, the former carrying a massive gun presumably capable of capturing her. Despite the horror we saw on their faces last episode at the realization that Ironwood would kill Marrow for speaking up, it seems that now the Ace Ops are entirely in agreement with these measures. A week ago the implication was that they fell back in line out of fear, but now Harriet talks passionately about "putting down" the group if they were stupid enough to accompany Penny. "The General gave his terms." Vine sighs at this, but doesn't actively disagree. He's just "retracing the steps that led us here."

So, congratulations on introducing four new characters, not bothering to develop any of them, killing one off while ignoring Qrow's hand in that, and having the other three become all, "Yeah! Mass murder is a perfect solution!" off screen. Marrow is the only one with something resembling development and, as covered in these recaps, that's been pretty badly executed too.

Ironwood sends them to deal with Robyn and Qrow after Winter reappears to "assist" him. That gets quotation marks because most viewers at this point have realized that she's who our two birbs spotted in the elevator. Winter isn't on Ironwood's side anymore, she's just skillfully clearing the field for the final attack. Indeed, we get a moment where she hesitantly brings up the bomb and Ironwood responds that he hopes she's not going to try and talk him out of it. No. Winter doesn't think that's possible. This was her final attempt at peace.

One of the reasons why I think I'll stick to my own blog for a while is because the fandom has a tendency to paint broad personality traits as evil when applied to some characters, yet simultaneously heroic when applied to others, when really it's about how that those traits are used. What I mean is, I've seen a lot of Ironwood critical posts that emphasize how stubborn he is. He thinks he's right and he won't back down. He wont listen to others. He's going through with this plan and if anyone tries to stop him? That's their mistake. Totally evil, right? Except, this is the exact same behavior Ruby displays, particularly in Volumes 6 and 7. She was stubborn about stealing from Argus and continuing the fight to the point where it endangered her and her teammates, to say nothing of the rest of the city. She refused to listen to Qrow, or Ironwood, or the Ace Ops, loudly announcing that she was right about, well, everything. If they didn't agree with her, the options were to leave the group entirely, or fight her. The actual difference here is that the writers have taken Ironwood to an extreme, one that's incredibly easy to understand as bad because it is bad: bombing Mantle has no defense. Ruby pulls the exact same nonsense, it's just not to that same extreme and her actions are followed by scenes that are meant to make us forgive her: a sad look because she didn't mean to get a city attacked by a leviathan grimm, a cry on the staircase because she didn't mean to risk the lives of an entire kingdom... even though she did. Ironwood is the bad guy because he's been written to take specific, OOC actions like shooting unarmed kids. He's not the bad guy because when other characters go, "Don't do this" his response is, "I have to." Because that's been Ruby's motto ever since she "had" to use the Lamp to rip Ozpin’s life story away. RWBY introduced those extreme actions of shooting the youngest in the group (for no reason) and threatening to bomb a city (for no reason) or shooting a councilman (for no reason) because when you remove those you've got a man who looks exactly like our hero. Ironwood's arc has been peppered with these confusing, unpersuasive actions because if you just keep the story as him stubbornly keeping to a plan he thinks will save the world, you're left with the reminder that all Ruby has done lately is stubbornly keep to plans she thinks will save the world. This moment with Winter just highlights how ill thought out Ironwood's descent has been because he does everything Ruby does... with a few, tacked on, “and randomly shoots people!” moments to ensure we understand that he’s definitely evil. No comparison to our heroes here, folks!

Ironwood is a bad guy now. That’s certain, but he was made that way so the story never had to grapple with the question of what that means for Ruby if we really start condemning things like lying, secrets, stubbornness, or endangering others for the greater good. Well then damn, if we strip away the hypocrisy then she might not be a good person after all. Or the people she’s simplistically labeled as bad might not be the devils Ruby claims they are.

But that’s a level of nuance RWBY would rather pretend doesn’t exist.

All of which is highlighted by Ironwood’s reaction to "Penny." He sighs and sags over the gun, immediately putting it aside. With his hand on her shoulder, Ironwood tells her she's "done the right thing." Precisely the same way Ruby would lower Crescent Rose and give someone a smile when they decided to fall in line with her.

Which, of course, is the moment when Emerald reveals herself, dispelling the Penny illusion and revealing Team JNPR The Second behind her. She gives a quip about it feeling "weird" to do the right thing before disappearing.

From there the action picks up fast. I really enjoyed this battle simply from a choreography and energy standpoint. It gets the blood pumping, Ironwood's hand-to-hand is spectacular — especially that moment against Ren — and the group actually displays teamwork for the first time in what feels like forever, all of them needed to land a hit on Ironwood. As always, out of the context of the rest of the show it feels and looks great. My primary issue is that we get this fantastic fight against Ironwood. Not Salem, not Cinder, not Watts (like last volume when Ironwood was still a hero), not even Emerald as a means of transitioning from murderous villain to the group's best bud. No, what's arguably the best action sequence in the volume thus far goes to beating up the guy they betrayed from the start. There's no catharsis for me here, only frustration as we watch Ironwood stand in shock as Winter powers up Nora — who's fine now, I guess — and she slams her hammer into his face.

It never should have come to this and when a good character is done so dirty, their downfall doesn't evoke the emotions the writers are looking for. Watching Ironwood fall doesn't generate feelings of victory, or even tragedy at a course of events others were powerless to stop. It's just frustration at watching years worth of bad writing, sprinkled with fantastic ideas that never go anywhere.

Oscar gets a few hits in, Ironwood snatches his cane, and just as he's about to throw a punch, Winter arrives with the most dramatic sword slash I've ever seen.

Ironwood's aura breaks and he falls, unconscious. We cut to an image of a droid's head separated from its body, one of Robyn's arrows through its skull. That doesn't have meaning or anything.

I suppose I should be grateful they didn't rip Ironwood's arm away during the fight, or outright kill him, though I'm still expecting him to die before the end of the volume.

Hmm. Wouldn't that be something? If after Salem's arrival, freezing cold, a Hound attack, grimm soup, a giant whale, a massive army, and a hack ending in self-destruction, the one character who actually dies is Ironwood.

It's looking more and more likely.

Honestly, beyond all the obvious, what's so frustrating about this fight is that characters are only now using their impressive abilities to their fullest. Emerald creates an entire fantasy of what's happening and then straight up disappears, but she only does a half-assed version of that when fighting against Penny. (And really, she put more effort into helping the heroes she just joined over Cinder, the woman she's been obsessed with since the start?) Marrow refuses to use "Stay" against a group they wanted to peacefully arrest because that's just too horrible an act, I guess, but he'll do it on his own teammates the second Qrow and Robyn don’t want to fight.

This is what I mean when I say the rules of the world bend to assist the protagonists in absurd ways. It's not nearly as egregious as Amity suddenly being up and running, but the fact that characters become substantially more powerful while fighting for the protagonists than they do against them is still a significant problem.

So Ironwood is down and out. As much as I hated watching that and didn't necessarily want more, am I the only one who felt like it was... a bit lackluster? I mean, the action was great, yes, but relatively short. There was no dialogue, such as another delve into the moral questions that led to this fight in the first place. There certainly wasn’t any hesitance against fighting a former ally. (Again, we’re meant to believe that the Ace Ops won because they just couldn’t bear to fight the group seriously, but every former ally here is capable of wailing on Ironwood without a single pause or pained look?) Ironwood just skillfully blocks for a while, is blindsided by Winter's betrayal, and then falls unconscious. Given that we learn he and Jacques will be evacuated after the rest of the kingdom, it's possible he'll escape somehow and we'll get a fight 2.0, but if not that feels like a rather tame end to the guy forced into the antagonist seat. Plus, what was the point of having Qrow frothing at the mouth to kill him this whole volume? I never wanted that to happen, I'm glad it hasn't, but I'm nevertheless left to ask why we bothered with that eleven episode side plot if we were going to erase it with one sentence from Robyn about Qrow being better than this. If that's all it took, let them work through Qrow's irrational anger while sitting around in a cell.

Winter tells the group to move onto "phase two" which is when we're treated to a flashback. We return to the ending of the last episode, with Ruby realizing that opening the vault is an option. Jaune, all smiles, goes, "We never considered using what's inside!"

This is what I mean about no consequences! This is what I mean about it all being a meaningless circle that ends with undeserved praise for the group! We started this horror show with Ironwood going, "We don't have a plan to protect the people, so I'm going to take what people we do have to safety" and the group going, "We don't have a plan either, but we're going to stop you implementing your plan because it's not perfect, risking a kingdom's worth of lives in the process." Now, the group has used two plans, one of which two characters knew about at the start and another they could have devised with the information they had. Oscar and Ozpin's, "We have an all powerful magical blast in our cane" and the group's "What if we used the Staff for something other than raising Atlas?" are both things that could have come up in the office debate. These were both always on the table! Instead, Ruby grew furious over the mere thought of cutting their losses, betrayed Ironwood again, attacked his people, denounced him to the world, and then two days later goes, "Oh wait! We could do something now that we could have easily done before if we hadn't made a needless enemy!"

Everyone realizes how much worse they made things, right? Turning against Ironwood, bringing everyone left in Mantle directly under Atlas, sitting around while an army was devoured, drawing it out until Penny was hacked... all of it would have been avoided if the group had thought and discussed things for a few minutes, not jumping straight to violently resisting what Ironwood came up with first. "We never considered..." Ruby says. Yeah, you didn't, except that's not something to smile about. The group made the situation a thousand times worse with their reaction when they could have just magically evacuated the kingdom from the start. “Maybe we could use it to save Penny and get everyone in Atlas and Mantle back to safety." Nothing has changed! They had this ability the whole time! Nothing about the last twelve episodes led them here, they just randomly thought of it after RT had padded the volume with needless drama. Considering that they're heading to Vacuo now, we could have just made this the finale of Volume 7 instead: big fight with Ironwood, revelation, get everyone evacuated while Salem attacks, leave her behind, then Volume 8 begins in Vacuo with the group knowing Salem is out there looking for them. This entire volume has been pointless. What did they accomplish?

Oscar got kidnapped and beat up, Nora was scarred, Ruby and Yang realized horrible things about Summer, and the whole world is panicking about a witch. Good things are... Ren and Ruby unlocked some semblance stuff? Weiss loves her brother again after he proved himself useful to her? Great work, team.

So this one moment makes everything they've done up to this point useless and, of course, once thought up the plan goes off without a hitch. Note that the summary of this episode says, "It's risky, dangerous, and nearly impossible — but it's the only plan they've got." Nearly impossible? That's a whole lot of talk for a plan that was implemented perfectly.

There is, admittedly, one snag, but one that is likewise made meaningless just seconds later. We'll get to that.

We see Winter call Weiss who also smiles at hearing from her sister. Obviously interactions like the group's with Emerald are the bigger concern, but it's still an issue that no one reacts as they should to people reappearing in their lives. Rather, RWBY continually confuses audience knowledge with character knowledge. We know Winter is on their side now, but Weiss hasn't a clue. Last she saw, she and Winter were agreeing to head down different paths. She has no reason to think her sister isn't loyal to Ironwood, so why isn't the group treating this call with suspicion? What if it's Ironwood trying to mess with them through a presumably safe party? I swear to god, with any consistency in the story this group would be dead ten times over because their decisions are so stupid. Oscar decides to believe in the guy currently beating him to a pulp, the group decides to trust a villain over a flawed ally, and now they see Ironwood’s second calling and are like, “Great, big sister Winter is checking in!” There’s a difference between a hopeful story filled with second chances and characters whose reliance on the narrative bending to assist them makes them come across as insanely naive.

None of which even touches on characters forgetting that other characters are presumably dead. Ironwood shot Oscar off the edge of Atlas, but doesn't react to learning he was kidnapped, or when he shows up to the fight. Thanks to Marrow's comment, Winter thinks YJOR have perished in the whale, but also has no reaction to them appearing to help with this plan. Absolutely nothing is followed up on.

We then get a flashback within the flashback (fun) of Winter — shock — not arresting Marrow. It's precisely as I assumed, with Marrow angrily asking why she hit him and Winter responding with, “Because you were about to get killed if I didn’t do something!” As I said last recap, I feel like I should let the marginalized groups lead this discussion, but I do want to add that no matter how well intentioned — or strategic, as I mentioned last time — the imagery itself is still harmful. No matter the context, we were still left with white woman Winter putting her knee on black man Marrow's back to arrest him, and it’s an image that everyone in the U.S. should be familiar with the horror of. Far more of a problem than the (presumed) ignorance of this scene is, I think, the choice to make Winter entirely unrepentant. I think some of this discomfort could have been alleviated if RT had written Winter as apologetic, contrite that it came to that and asking Marrow to understand that she only did it as a means of assisting him. Asking his forgiveness. Instead, we get this

So what, the only emotion we have room for is gratitude that Winter beat him up? Yikes.

As a lighter side note, I find the animation here unintentionally hilarious. Winter's assistive device makes her shoulders look too high, making this gesture more, "Woman exaggeratedly pouts about not getting ice cream for dinner" and less, "Woman sternly closes off during a disagreement about saving lives and betraying their general." Gotta find our humor where we can, right?

What's intentional, but far less funny, is the needless animation to show us that, yes, Marrow is peering at Winter calling Weiss. Oh, the shenanigans.

The elevator opens where Qrow and Robyn spot them. "Speaking of help," Winter says, as if she has any reason to believe Qrow didn't kill Clover. He and Robyn lower their weapons a bit, as if they have any reason to believe Winter and Marrow aren't still loyal to Ironwood. Would it really be so hard to have Winter immediately throw up her hands in the face of their almost-attack, blurting that she's not their enemy and needs their help, please listen? Again, RWBY can't remember which characters know what, let alone what their motivations and reactions should be.

We then enter the third part of the flashback where everyone piles into the Schnee dining room and discusses doing the things they could have done from the start. I'm metaphorically banging my head against that table. In RWBY's favor though, we also get a long shot of Jaune continuing to boost Penny’s aura.

Though it's only one of many issues, just the other day I asked, "Hey, why has Jaune always needed to hold onto the person he's assisting, but now suddenly he can touch Penny once and the boost remains?" It still doesn't explain why he was letting go before/why him needing to boost her continuously didn't put a hard time limit on their plan — not that Mantle's hour limit meant a thing — but at least they're showing more of that here.

Oscar notes that Atlas has enough gravity dust that it won't fall immediately when they use the Relic, but they will have to move fast to ensure no one is underneath. Yeah, like all the civilians you put there. He also cautions that the Staff isn't a "magic wand" that they can just wave to make all their problems go away... even though that's precisely what they're going to do. Ozpin gets some lines that aren't apologies or followed by attacks — hallelujah! — about how the Staff's spirit is a "character" and requires that you be able to precisely explain anything you want him to make. Blueprints, examples, a firm knowledge of how this will be accomplished — all of it is required to actually get what you're after. That's a cool limitation. It's just too bad we didn't know about it episodes ago, forcing our heroes to find ways to meet those requirements. Instead, they already have everything ready to go the moment they learn about it: Penny has her own schematics and Whitley apparently has knowledge of the entire kingdom after sending some ships out. Normally I'd go, "Really?" but I'm still just struck by how much good he's done compared to everyone else in this room. Your show is seriously broken when the side character the writers didn't even want the audience to like until a few episodes ago is more active, mature, and sensible than the heroes.

From there we see the group implementing the plan. They fly up through the hole Oscar left, straight to the vault. Penny opens it without any trouble and Ruby uses her speed to grab the Relic and stop time, halting her self-termination. I do like that combination of skill and their knowledge of how this magic works. That felt like a smart move. What's interesting though is that the Relic appears to stop time in the entire kingdom. We see people in Mantle and Atlas slowing to a halt too. I assume no one remembers that happening after time restarts, otherwise people would be freaked out by suddenly being frozen in place.

Wouldn't that have been cool though? The group often takes a while to use the Relics, either deciding what they need, or watching Jinn's information, so what if you had a population that blinks and suddenly, from their perspective, half an hour has passed? How long might Ozpin have sat on his knees after Jinn told him he wasn't able to defeat Salem? How long was that space frozen? We could have had a world built around rumors and fairy tales. Not the random stories Ozpin brings up to make a point and that we never hear about again, but tiny details that foreshadow these revelations. A Beacon where the kids tell each other spooky stories of people suddenly losing time, once a whole day. The wives, sisters, daughters, and nieces who disappear, or wake up one day with horrifying, unnatural powers. We see magic influence the world around it, but we've seen very little of the world reacting to that influence. The one time I can think of is Blake reading a book about "a man with two souls," the fiction clearly inspired by knowledge of Ozpin. And indeed, it felt great to recognize that as a significant detail and then be proven right years later as the lore was revealed. We could have gotten so much more of that if RWBY was better planned out.

I'm getting off track though. As time stops we see a series of images: Ironwood being led to a cell with Jacques, Penny succumbing to her hack, Team JNPR The Second preparing to contact the kingdom about what's going on. Then everyone is distracted by the giant, blue, buff Ambrosius who comes out of the Staff.

...there's a lot of innuendo in that last statement lol. At least RWBY is committed to the crazy design they chose? I was never particularly comfortable with the image of characters gaping up at a giant, naked woman in chains, so it's nice to balance that a bit with an equally giant, naked dude in chains.

From here things get confusing. In all honesty, I'm not sure if this is another moment where RWBY is trying to pass off a retcon as the group being brilliant, or if I, as an individual, simply didn't follow the logic. I won't bother to rehash the slow, meandering way that Ruby reveals their plan — that certainly didn't help with the clarity. Not in an episode where we didn’t even know these rules ahead of time — but it boils down to this:

The moment they have Ambrosius create something new Atlas will start to fall. Two of his creations can't exist at the same time.

He needs clear instructions about what he's making in order to create it.

The group has brought him Penny's schematics so that he understands how she's built.

They want, specifically, "a new version of her... using her exact robot parts."

They can't just create an exact duplicate of Penny because that would carry the virus with it.

They can't create an exact duplicate without the virus because that Penny would cease to exist as soon as they used Ambrosius to make an evacuation plan instead.

So they essentially want Ambrosius to create a new Penny by removing all the robot parts from the Penny that currently exists, carrying the virus with them, and leaving only the human parts of Penny behind: her aura/soul. Then, the purely robot version is destroyed when Ambrosius creates something new.

Except... this new Penny, this human Penny, still needed a human body. That's what Ambrosius created and that's the snag I don't understand. They want a version of Penny that's just her aura, just her soul, but that soul still needs something to be housed in. Ambrosius himself notes that. At first I thought the group would just have some wisp-like version of Penny they'd have to find a new body for — perhaps leading to a new one for Ozpin too — but she's just... given a human body when he takes the technology away, something she absolutely didn't have before. That is Ambrosius' creation. That is what should have disappeared along with the removed parts of Penny, leaving only her soul — what Ambrosius didn't touch — behind. Instead, the plot oh so conveniently has Penny get a new body for free and it's untouched as they move onto the next task.

Ruby drops a casual line about Ambrosius not being able to kill, or destroy, or something, which I think is meant to be the justification here. The rule (which, again, we JUST learned) about not killing anyone supersedes the rule of two creations not allowed to exist, allowing Penny to stick around. But even if that’s true, it’s a load of bull. What, does the magic think no one in an entire city might die if the floating mechanism is removed and it plummets to the ground? Ambrosius didn’t say, “Sorry, can’t stop floating Atlas because thousands of people are still here and they’ll die if I create something new,” but we’re supposed to believe the group skated by on, “Sorry, can’t destroy the last creation like everything else because there’s a single person still using that body and she’ll die if I create something new”?

Seriously, did I miss something? Or is this another, "Amity is ready because the group needs it" situation? The rule of creations ceasing to exist is bent because the group needs to have their friend around. Ambrosius is certainly enthusiastically complimentary, saying how "smart" the group is and that they've "done their homework," but I'm not so sure. It feels like a moment where the show is (once again) insistent that the group is far more talented and brilliant than their actions actually imply. It's only the rules of the world twisting and turning that allows for their success. To say nothing of how the episode dropped all these rules on the viewer in a ten minute info dump, ensuring we didn’t have any time to think about them before the deed was done.

It doesn't add up for me and honestly, even putting that aside? I hate this. I absolutely despise it. Look, if it turns out this really does make sense then props to the group for coming up with that plan. Our snag aside, the rest is a legitimately well thought out wish. I don't have a problem with the execution so much as the message. I've been saying since Volume 7 that RWBY has done Penny a disservice in terms of her "real girl" narrative. Whereas before we had a firm message that you don't need "squishy guts" to be human, to be real, Volume 8 continued to carry us further and further into the idea that it is necessary. That Penny's body is entirely inhuman, something to hate, but at least her soul is human and good. That's what the virus arc taught us: your terrible, technological body might be betraying you, but hold onto the parts of you that are really human. I hated that too, but I never thought RWBY would go this far. They made Penny fully human and went, “THIS is the version that always should have existed.”

And this isn't just me reading into the implications. It's right there in the text. Blake says that they're looking for “Penny, the girl who’s always been there underneath." Meaning, underneath the metal. The girl exists trapped in the robot body. Yang holds up her arm and says that the metal is only "extra," it's not really who you are.

That gets into two perspectives on disability that RWBY just doesn't have the nuance for: what's an integral and celebratory part of one person's existence can be seen as something separate and discomforting to another. Though there are many people with disabilities who would happily cure themselves with a magic Staff if given the chance, there are just as many who say no, this is a part of my identity. I don't want to change, I just want the world to accommodate my existence. However, RWBY takes a hard stance here, saying that any metal in your body is intrinsically bad. We didn’t use to have this take, but now the show has embraced it. Blake says the real Penny is trapped in there. Yang's words implies that she'd get rid of this "extra" bit of her if possible. Mercury with his metal legs is the enemy. Ironwood with half his metal body is the enemy. Whereas once difference was truly accepted, now it's shunned and fixed whenever possible. Those who can't be fixed, like Yang, must simply deal with the lot they've been dealt, reassuring themselves that the metal isn't really them. But Penny? Penny they can fix.

So they do and the very first thing Penny does is hug Ruby, exclaiming, “Do hugs always make you feel this warm inside? Wow. More!” and proceeds to hug all the others.

What's the underlying message there? Penny didn't understand hugs before this moment. She never experienced the "warmth" of them while an android, despite the fact that here warmth is entirely metaphorical and has nothing to do with a literally cold body. RWBY really went and said that the "real girl” android was never actually real at all — not as real as she could be — because it's only when she's given "squishy guts" that she understands the true happiness of a hug.

Wow.

I mean seriously, wow.

Never-mind that, you know, we've seen that happiness and warmth since she was first introduced.

RWBY is really rewriting all the core themes introduced in Volumes 1-3 and it sucks. The show is absolutely the worse for it.

To say nothing of all the other disservices to Penny's character here. There's all this buildup about whether she'll still be the same Penny once the wish is complete, but of course she is. We wouldn't want to have Penny struggle when she becomes something other than what she's always been, would we? After all, it took Yang an entire volume to work through the shock of a metal arm, but taking away a metal body for a human one is in no way traumatic. Having a normal, human body is intrinsically a good thing! Of course Penny accepts it with nothing but smiles. Becoming human is celebratory, but becoming more machine is a horror.

She gets to watch her body self-destruct, glitching out and collapsing in front of her. But again, nothing to unpack there that can't be covered with a hand over her mouth.

There's no discussion of whether Penny still has the Maiden powers, or whether a wish like that would mess with the transfer in any way. How did the group know this action wouldn't register as a clear-cut death, forcing the power out of her and into someone new? Obviously they couldn’t know, but no one even thought to bring it up?

And the entire time they're formulating their evacuation plan, there's no talk of whether these portals will appear before everyone currently alive in the kingdom. I mean, if they do then Ironwood and Jacques can just waltz through and escape into Vacuo. If they don’t, then Maria and Pietro don't necessarily have a way out. We still don't know if they're stuck floating in Amity, or if Amity crashed, or if they made their way back to Mantle or Atlas. More importantly, the characters don't know. I have no problem with RWBY keeping that a surprise until the finale, but I absolutely take issue with Pietro's daughter walking through a portal, seemingly not to care whether her father is going to make it out too.

It's been the same with Qrow and his nieces' relationships. The show is good at insisting that these families love each other because they hug and smile while on screen together, but when shit is actually going down, none of them care about pesky things like disappearances, arrests, or “The last time I saw you, you were with an old woman on a damaged station after a villain attack, potentially stranded in deadly cold if life support failed.”

So yeah, this entire arc with Penny has been a disaster. From throwing away her framing subplot, to giving her a virus that did absolutely nothing, to giving her the Maiden powers which she's also done nothing with, to erasing her android status for a “She's really human now” message, Penny has been done dirty by the show these last two volumes. Not nearly to the extent Ironwood has, but still. At this point I wish they'd just kept her dead dead. Why do I want her back when that resurrection produces no reaction, her conflicts lead nowhere, and one of the core things that made Penny Penny has now been magically erased?

I've been saying for weeks that killing Penny off and keeping Penny around each had serious downsides attached, yet I never expected RWBY to do BOTH.

Also, I'm warding off any, "But Pinocchio was made into a real boy too" defenses. RWBY is not Pinocchio. Penny is not Pinocchio. I thought the allusion was going to be the Pinocchio inspired girl heading into the whale, not the show forcing the exact plotline — down to a blue, magical creature — onto a character whose entire journey has been about accepting herself as an android. Congratulations, RT. You just obliterated years of work.

Again, if you'd like an example of how to do this far better:

As Penny's character falls apart, Atlas shakes, alerting Jaune and the other that a new wish has been granted. Jaune pecks at the screen and realizes "That did, uh, something…?” but doesn’t realize that there's a giant, red "LIVE" up in the corner.

Jaune tries to warn the entire kingdom about their plan, but what he actually says is

“Atlas is falling, but — !”

And then the communications cut out.

Watts, perhaps?

Our heroes are really good at saying things that make large populaces panic, huh? This is the one (1) snag in their "impossible" plan, but as said above, it doesn't amount to anything. We get a shot of Nora, horrified at the thought of kingdom-wide communications being down, but literally seconds later Team RWBY has made portals appear that everyone can walk through. So... why do we care about communications? More importantly, why does the show try to make us care? So much time is spent getting the viewer invested in problems that never come to mean anything.

Including the problem of Salem herself.

Because the group successfully creates that evacuation plan. This is it. Everyone is leaving while Salem still reforms.

Yang asks if they can use the vaults themselves as a single point for everyone to go to and Ambrosius agrees. So everyone is going to pile into the Vacuo vault that can only be opened by an unknown Maiden? They're going to put an entire kingdom's worth of people, including their enemies, into the vault where the Relic of Destruction is? Yeah, that's great. Prior to this — like if this had been the plan at the end of Volume 7 — I would have 100% agreed that these risks are better than death by Salem/grimm/cold. Now though, Oscar as axed Salem for an unknown length of time, the cold is having no impact on the civilians outside, and the grimm only attack background military personnel that supposedly no one cares about. They couldn't have spent another few minutes (especially with time stopped!) to figure out a means of getting to Vacuo that doesn't involve revealing and providing access to the location of a super secret vault? To say nothing of what they're going to do if Salem wakes up and snags one of those portals for herself. Two kingdoms for the price of one!

But that's what they're going with. Weiss gives Ambrosius a schematic of the kingdom, I guess, and he makes branching pathways appear with numerous portals for everyone to step through. They'll enter through one and, when they exit another, will be in Vacuo. Easy peasy, right? Especially since Ambrosius doesn't seem to have any limitations about how often his power is used. Is it three creations every 100 years like Jinn? We're not told, at least not to my recollection. However, I was expecting there to be a waiting period, that they'd fix Penny, go to evacuate the kingdom, and learn that sorry, I can't make another creation just yet. It feels like the sort of shit move these beings would pull — "Don't cry to me when it's not what you wanted" — it would have been another commentary on the group's insistence on putting friends over the people's safety (like demanding the Ace Ops not bomb the whale because of Oscar), and crucially, would have kept the action in Atlas. Isn't that what this volume is? The battle for and potential destruction of the Kingdom of Atlas? We have two episodes left and, unless something unexpected happens, we're moving that action to Vacuo. Why?

Meanwhile, Penny's corpse is just chilling in the background 😬

While all this is going on, Winter reassures Jacques that he and Ironwood will be evacuated too, though she makes it clear saving him was Weiss' idea. It checks out, considering Weiss is the one who turned her father's arrest into a joke last volume. Winter still takes his abuse seriously.

The group prepares to leave with a celebratory, "We did it!" from Weiss. I'm still banging my head against that dining room table. Before they can pass through the portal though, Ambrosius leaves them with one, dire warning: "Do not fall."

In any other story a line like that is a neon sign announcing to the audience that someone will absolutely fall, and maybe they will, but RWBY has dodged consequences so often I wouldn't be surprised if this was merely another way to string us along. Remember all the hype surrounding Salem? The cold combined with her army and magic? How she was going to decimate Atlas and leave our group broken in a Fall 2.0?

I mean, we still have two episodes left. Forty minutes of content. Salem might still decimate them, especially since something has to happen in the finale. But god, it's a problem that we've come this far without a payoff. Salem randomly decided not to attack anyone, was stopped by a weapon added in solely for this purpose, and now the whole kingdom is being evacuated with a plan the group could have used at the start. This volume really is meaningless.

“We go to vacuo and hope we’ve thought of everything” they say as the camera zooms in on Cinder's smiling face. For the second week in a row.

Bingo time!

Winter betrayed Ironwood, the group used the Staff of Creation, and I'm axing Maria on behalf of Pietro. You can't have the guy's daughter become human — after he was killing himself to give her his aura?? — and magically walk to Vacuo, not knowing if he's even survived since she last saw him, and expect me to think he hasn't been forgotten. Same with Maria. Has the group mentioned her since Amity cut out, notably for reasons they couldn’t explain? Of course not. Did they care to find out what happened? Of course not. I have no doubt they'll both re-appear in the next two episodes, Pietro crying over how perfect his girl is now and Maria congratulating the group on their actions, but we're still marking it.

This is the ugliest thing I’ve ever created, I hope you all are enjoying it :D

Another week, another couple feet added to the hole we’re digging. I know I keep saying I have no idea what's going to happen next... but I have no idea what's going to happen next. A Vacuo ending was not in the cards, not outside of them miraculously showing up in ships. Maybe they have been on their way to Atlas (somehow...) and will arrive precisely when everyone has left! Anything is possible at this point.

See you next Saturday, everyone. Hold on until then lol. 💜

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #rwby recaps #rwby creation

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perpetuelledaydreaming · 4 years ago

Text

Illicit affairs- Chapter 9

summary: the power of a girl after a break up? let me tell you. felicia learns a thing or two about trusting the wrong people and peter just really really wants y/n to be happy.

Listen to: Rolling in the deep- Adele, These boots are made for walkin’ - Nancy Sinatra & Champagne problems- Taylor Swift

word count: 19.7k

series masterlist

You just felt pain.

Pain on your head.

Pain on your arm.

Pain on your back.

Pain on your side.

Pain on your gun-shot wound.

You had been tossed down like a rag doll and fell beside your now destroyed bed. You tried to stand up, but the dizziness was too much, your body didn’t seem to be responding yet, still recovering from Felicia’s attack. However, you could feel the debris and glass shards poking into your skin below you while your head was throbbing from the sheer force of the explosion.

You slipped and came back from darkness; your vision foggy and spots dancing on your eyes while you could hear muffled sounds around you, maybe even an alarm, but you weren’t sure if it was just another effect of the explosion on your hearing. The wind from the broken window ruffling your dress and hair. You barely registered at the beginning but it grew colder as the seconds passed.

And each time you slipped back into darkness you could only see Felicia’s doleful expression as she jumped from the window. You remember her silver hair and how her hands had traced your skin minutes ago but now everything just felt cold, desolate and it just hurt.

You wanted to scream and shout and cry because the girl you had been protecting and maybe even loving for the past few months had crushed your heart into a million pieces, she left you. You didn’t matter. And it felt like if the ice was enveloping you, just wave after wave washing over you, knocking you further into the glass piercing into your skin, the numbness mixing with the pain, and it felt like you were going to drown. It had been your fault, you had let her in despite the warnings, despite everything, and here you were, drowning.

Did you deserve to be there?

And then you felt his warm hands cupping your face.

It seemed urgent but so soft at the same time, and then the smell of cinnamon and honey invaded you, it overwhelmed you and you just knew you had to cling onto him to not drown. Without even reacting to the pain on your side or your face, you managed to take a hold of Peter’s face.

“Can you hear me?” Peter’s voice sounded far away from you, but you could still hear the urgency and fear in his voice. “y/n? Come on, come on”

You tried your best to open your eyes, fluttering them so you could see the boy with the chocolate eyes with golden specks, a constellation of freckles and caramel curls. He had a few cuts on his face, he had dirt all over himself that you assume was from the explosion but he was okay, he was there holding your body tightly as he had you resting on his lap.

Peter sighed with relief as he crawled your body and pushed you against him, holding you as tight as he possibly could. He was so happy that you were okay and he felt like he could finally breathe again when he realized that you were starting to hold him too. Peter looked back at you, as he tried to wipe off the blood from the cut over your eyebrow, already a dark blotch appearing on your temple from the explosion, he shuddered at the image but he was just happy that you were there.

He wanted to cry and kiss you all at the same time, he had lost you so many times (figurately and barely literally a few weeks ago), so when he saw how Felicia was pointing at you with the repulsor, he felt a shiver ran down his back. He had tried so hard to catch you, he had tried with all his force to reach you, to hold you but his fingers just brushed yours as the blast separated you instantly, sending Peter flying backward, literally crushing him against and through one of the walls in your room.

He had to rest a second as his head buzzed from the impact but once the fogginess left his eyes, he just went back in looking for you through your destroyed room and he felt his stomach sinking when he saw you while you laid motionless in front of him. He couldn’t be okay.

Not until you finally reacted to him, not until he saw your y/e/c eyes looking back at him and he held you; you were okay and that’s all that mattered to Peter.

“Peter,” you finally said, your voice had grown up since Peter had met you but right then and there you sounded so young and small. “She escaped, I’m so stupid”

Peter frowned as you felt the hot tears pooling on your eyes, tears began to fall stubbornly down your cheeks as you held Peter tighter. You felt the sobs ripping through your chest, not as hard as the last night with Peter before you escaped New York, but you could feel your chest tearing with each sob that escaped your lips, Peter held you softly and shook his head, almost instantly.

“You are not,” He stated firmly but softly at the same time as he wiped your tears away with his thumb. “You thought someone cared about you and you were so perfect and loving as you are. It’s okay to make mistakes”

“I screwed up so bad,” you repeated, this time mostly to yourself as the burning loathing against yourself began to ease its way to your heart and mind, the helplessness feeling drowning you. “I trusted her”

“I know you did, but you can fault yourself for this y/n,” Peter repeated as he leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours but you shook it off.

You pushed yourself up, Peter helping you as you kneeled next to him, crying and shaking your head, you now just felt rage but you weren’t even aware of who, you or Felicia?

“You told me so many times,” you insisted as you tried to wipe the tears away with your hands, you hissed as you saw the cuts on your body and how they burned because of your tears. You stared at them for a moment and for that slight moment you thought that you deserved them but Peter quickly took your hand in his, he had the same cuts and you realized how much you had hurt him and it only made you angrier. “Peter, what did I do!?” the scream ripped your chest.

It felt almost like an instinct as Peter took you in his arms and lifted you, you had to hold to him to stabilized yourself as you grabbed his shoulders and he pulled you towards him by your hips and back. He quickly cupped your face with one hand while his other one rested on the small of your back, holding you against him.

“Listen to me y/n,” He stated gravelly, his eyes burning you. “It’s okay to screw up, I’ve screwed up a lot of times but I will always have your back, I know I didn’t before but I’m here” he stated and you finally felt the tears slowing down and Peter nodded at you, assuring you it was the truth. “I will always be here”

His words sounded so definitive, the mention of Peter always being on your life, always, caused your body to warm up, like it always felt when you were with him, you felt safe. You sniffled and you nodded back to Peter, pushing him towards you and smiling.

But then you heard steps coming your way and you turned towards where your door was supposed to be to see Harley and the others appearing on the frame of the door, clearly astounded by the destruction, and as you saw how their faces turned, you just knew it looked bad.

“What the hell happened!?” Ned screamed as he looked around with an agitated expression drawn on his face.

Peter turned to tell them but he was still holding you tightly, never letting you and you were thankful for it, the coldness almost disappearing completely when you were by his side. “She left with the repulsor,” Peter stated as you winced at the thought of what they would say.

“Fuuuck,” Flash and Harley stated in unison, the way Harley’s eyes washed with anxiety let you know it was bad, really fucking bad.

“Yeah, now she’s going to give it to Kingpin.” You stated as you tried to wash the remaining tears away as Peter and you moved closer to them but then as you looked around your room, you saw the faint white smoke and something snapped on your mind. “Harley, doesn’t that drip energy once it has been used?” You asked as Ned helped you move from one side of your room to the other, separated by a prominent crack on the floor.

“We can track it” MJ suggested as she looked back at Harley and shook his shoulder. “Don’t you have like multiple Stark Industries Satellites that hacked behind Tony’s back?”

Harley looked back at her as realization dawned on him and he smiled while looking at MJ brightly. “I love that you listen to me,” he gushed, but MJ simply rolled her eyes.

“Move it”

All of you ran to Harley’s bedroom as he quickly got onto his computer and all of you waited by his side. Ned tried to insist that Peter and you should get checked as Harley hacked at least two satellites and triangulated the algorithm to find the specific trace of energy that matched one of the repulsors. But neither, Peter or you wanted to leave Harley’s side, your eyes were glued to the screen as Harley, with the help of MJ and Ned tried to hack the satellites.

You knew that everything was a matter of time, that if you weren’t fast enough the repulsor could become a weapon of mass destruction, even more, if Kingpin realized how to harvest its energy and reproduce it into the thousands of aliens weaponry that he already had. You thought about Felicia and how interested she had been on the small project the day of your attack, you grimaced at the thought of her purple eyes and her lips.

Peter quickly noticed, and he offered you his hand. You took it, as you both then looked back at the computer.

It felt like it took them forever to hack into the system, Peter had tried to intervene but there were too many people already with Harley, MJ, and Ned there. Even more importantly, Peter also realized he had to stay with you, he didn’t exactly know how or why he felt, but now it just seemed like energy pulled you together.

Peter looked at you, all scrapped and with cuts, but with your eyes trained on the prize and he felt the same way he felt when you first met, leaving your lab with your eyes trained in the hologram, determined and brave.

“Here’s the track,” MJ finally said, she had successfully managed to enter the system and placed the trace of energy rather quickly, the map of New York forming before your eyes.

“Where is she?”

“She went to her apartment,” you said as you pointed at the map, knowing the route by heart now. “Probably to change, now she’s going to…”

“Isn’t that?” Betty asked with a frown as she pointed at the trace where Felicia had been located.

“Right next to us?” Harley asked as confused as everyone at the moment seemed.

You watched as the beeping light on the screen, she was close to Grand Central. Grand Central was only a couple of blocks away from Stark Tower, it was a twenty-minute walk and you could be there in no time, you gave a step back as your mind worked on the reason why Felicia would return so close to where she had stolen something.

Felicia wasn’t dumb, she was many things but dumb wasn’t one of them. She knew that the area would be soon surrounded by police and if she wasn’t afraid of you and Peter and had aimed to hurt you and she had succeeded, she would still have to deal with the older Avengers that were still around. Moreover, if she was giving the repulsor away to Kingpin, why she would do it in such a public place?

Had Kingpin forced her to give it there? Was it a power move from him?

But then it dawned on you.

“She’s going to escape,” you whispered, at first to yourself but then to everyone as they turned around and looked at you while they frowned.

“What?”

“She’s going to escape,” you repeated as you stood up from Harley’s bed. “She knows that it’s likely that Kingpin will still kill her, she has been getting too close to me or maybe she knows that everyone would be looking for her. She has to run away after she delivers the repulsor she’s going to go by train. She’s going to Grand Central”

“How can you be sure?” Betty asked silently and Peter’s eyes linked with yours.

You weren’t.

“I think I still know a little bit of her and it’s our best shot right now,” you answered with a shrug while you thought about her, how she had kissed you to distract you, your hands turned into a fist and you shot up from Harley’s room. “Well, we have to hurry”

Peter followed you immediately (although you hadn’t even told him that he had to go with you, but it seemed like a given) while the rest trailed behind you but then Harley walked faster and took your wrist, you hissed for a second from his touch since you were walking with determination towards the terrace of the penthouse, ready to jump with your suit on and go to look for Felicia. There wasn’t really a plan, you just knew you had to get to her before she managed to give the repulsor away, you didn’t know what you were going to do when you saw her but you just had to try.

“Wait, don’t you want to wait for Tony?” Harley asked seriously, he looked confused and scared that the thought of your dad hadn’t crossed your mind and you looked back at him as confused as he was.

“He knows?”

Harley stared at you, agape at your question, he laughed sarcastically as he let go of your hand. “Of course he does, everyone heard the blast!”

“Where is he?” you asked, your eyes trailing back to the elevator worriedly.

“They are trying to evacuate the people inside. He knows there was a blast on the penthouse” Betty stated as she walked next to Harley and in front of you.

Thank god Morgan is Upstate, you thought as you looked at them but you spun on your heels once more.

You knew that this was just wasting your time, that Felicia and Kingpin would do this as fast as possible so no one would be able to catch them, and if you didn’t arrive on time, then it would just be too late.

“I have to go,” you repeated yourself as you watched Peter but before you continued to talk to the terrace, Peter called your name.

“y/n,” Peter’s voice was modulated, he didn’t have the urgency it would normally have when you were about to face a threat as big as this one, there wasn’t any doubt on his voice but you could still sense that he was asking you something. You turned to face Peter, his eyes lingered with yours and you just knew.

“I have to do this Peter,” you stated earnestly. “It’s my responsibility and I’m not going to let my dad clean up a mess that I made. I have to fix it.”

Peter watched you intently for what felt like forever for you until he just nodded and you knew it, you were going to do this together. Before your friends realized it, the nanobots began to surround your skin while Peter began to take off his clothes (much to your friend’s dismay as they turned around) to reveal his suit. You didn’t stop looking at the other, your eyes locked and before your friends blinked, Peter and you were jumping from the terrace of the penthouse and into the night.

You nearly crushed against a building and for mistake nearly swung Peter into a lamppost as he dangled from your suit; you were anxiously trying to get to Grand Central as fast as you possibly could and Peter was keeping up, but you were flying a bit recklessly. It was a silent flight, but the tension was high at the moment, just muttering a small sorry from time to time to Peter, he just stayed as silent as you were, knowing that you were too anxious to plan something at the moment.

“There aren’t many people,” you announced as you finally flew over Grand Central while Peter finally let go of you, as he perched himself in the rafters of the building, while you slowly and quietly landed next to him, your mask retracting from your face as you both looked down through the large glass windows.

You knew that you had to get the civilians out first, even if there weren’t many and then it would be easier to mess up the deal, maybe Felicia would be evacuated with the rest of the civilians and Kingpin wouldn’t dare to come in, knowing that police were going to be there or maybe a couple of Avengers, not that it had stopped him before but you liked believed that he didn’t like the messiness of it all.

“We have to get them out before,” Peter started but he trailed off and turned around, you furrowed your eyebrows and turned towards where Peter was looking.

And then you saw him.

“Wait, isn’t that?”

“Yes”

Peter’s whole body filled with dread as he watched the overly-large, hunkering figure of Kingpin as he climbed down of the large limousine. You felt your throat constrict as he walked over to the entrance of Grand Central with an army of men following him and surrounding the place. You could see his large hands that had rings in every one of his fingers. He was wearing a sharp black suit as he walked inside, and Peter could feel the danger he posed by just being close, instinctively Peter walked closer to you.

You didn’t notice, you were too busy realizing that Kingpin wasn’t alone, you could feel how your hands turned to fists as you saw who was next to Kingpin. Just a few steps behind, the lanky figure in a purple mask and suit, wearing the mechanized gloves and boots, along with another tall man with a beige suit and bony hands that had touched your skin once, a sick grin drawn on his face. Orville Nugent (The Architect) and The Prowler entered the building shortly after Kingpin did and you felt like you had stopped breathing.

“I don’t like this,” Peter whispered, mostly to himself as HAPPY showed you the heat signatures being detected, part of you wished that you would just recognize Felicia’s shape and there wouldn’t be the need of fighting but deep down you knew it was impossible and either way, the sounds of the bullets being fired into the air as they ricocheted on the station erased any thought of a possible easy way out.

The screams of the people on the station seemed to drown the ricochet of the bullets as they laid down on the floor, covering their heads while you felt like your heart had stopped. The screaming, the moaning of a bullet possibly hitting someone, the cries for help, the tears, it seemed overwhelming. You hadn’t experience per se a mission with hostages, at least not this many and it became too real, you began to only hear your breathing as you hyperventilate.

“Everyone, everyone,” The Architect stated loudly as he showed himself from the top of the iconic stairs of the station. “We are not going to take long, but if you don’t want to get shot -or something worse-, you should follow the men silently and keep quiet.” He finished with a grin as Kingpin soldiers started to surround the people and nudged them to move towards the information booth in the center.

It was clear that they wanted them exposed, there weren’t many people, about thirty, since it was already so late at night but you were more than sure that they were using them as bait or as a guarantee to slowdown any attacks coming from the outside.

You turned to see Peter, who seemed like his whole body had shut down as he watched down silently, you could see the slight tapping of anxiety he was doing with his hands and it was beyond obvious that his Spidey senses were going haywire in front of you, you were about to say something, to break through his barrier but you heard her voice.

“Can we get this over with?” Felicia -well, Black Cat- jumped from the edge of one balcony to the main entrance, where Kingpin, The Prowler and The Architect were, surrounded by their guards.

You could feel your blood rushing to your ears and for a second everything you saw was Felicia. Her curves were covered by her sparkling black bodysuit, her confidence, silky hair, full lips, and purple-ish eyes but there was something off with her. The trepidation in every one of her steps and you knew that she was scared. She had that same look on her eyes when she had come to Stark Tower after you had been hurt, you could sense it from a mile away and it made you wonder if you actually knew her.

“Now, now Miss Hardy,” Kingpin said almost quietly, but still his voice boomed all over the station. He shook his head as he locked gazes with Felicia. “What did we said about you playing nice?”

“I just want to end this,” Felicia stated coldly, without hesitation. “Quickly.”

Kingpin sighed from where he stood and he nudged The Architect to go where Felicia was. “You know the drill”, he stated gravely.

Soon, about ten of the armed men surrounded Felicia, pointing their guns at her as she rolled her eyes. They left a small opening from where The Architect passed through and stood in front of Felicia, who was glaring at him. She quickly opened the case and there it was the repulsor.

The Architect sighed happily, which caused you to wrap a hand around Peter’s as both of you leaned closer together to get a better look. The Architect inspected the case and then pulled up a scanning machine over the repulsor, which beeped unceasingly as it passed through, causing a smirk to appear on Kingpin’s face which caused you to shudder.

You knew that smirk, you knew how the air of tension had changed once Kingpin knew that Felicia had brought him what he wanted all along and you felt your stomach dropping. Kingpin was now overly confident and the satisfaction that flashed through those eyes made you want to vomit; this had been part of his plans all along. He knew that you were coming for him and that’s why he had sent The Prowler, he knew that nothing would defeat The Avengers unless it came from the inside. It all flashed through your eyes and you wondered if he had ordered Felicia to get close to you too.

“You’ve done well, Miss Hardy,” Kingpin smiled widely.

“I know,” Felicia replied with an indifference that caused Kingpin to chuckle.

“will you ever come back?” He asked and your heart sunk because you knew exactly what he meant. Felicia was running away as you had predicted. “I could use you for some jobs”

“I won’t be coming back,” Felicia retorted, you could feel the modulation in her voice, she was almost hissing.

“You don’t have to worry about the Avengers,” He asserted causally, “I’ll be done with them and you won’t be in harm’s way.”

Peter felt like throwing up as he quickly gazed back at you, he could see how you were almost hyperventilating, even behind your mask Peter could feel how you were slightly shaking, how your heartbeat was raising and Peter wondered if he should call Tony or the others.

But Felicia spoke again.

“I won’t come back to this place,” she stated coldly as she glared at Kingpin who shrugged.

“Then, it has been lovely to do business with you.” He raised his hand slightly and The Architect tried to snatch the case from Felicia’s hands but before he could, Felicia swiftly kneeled down and passed her legs under Orville, who fell immediately to the ground.

You almost jumped at the way the alarms went off, the men -who were thankfully armed just with usual guns- pointed at Felicia and Orville simply started cursing and glaring at Felicia, which she didn’t mind. She wasn’t looking at the tantrum that he was throwing, which reminded you how awful of an extortionist he must be.

“Not so fast,” Felicia stated as she raised her eyebrows and secure the case behind her, “You owe me something.”

Kingpin didn’t flinch at Felicia’s statement, he looked at her almost indifferent which caused your blood to boil because Felicia was being beyond serious and she could be a real threat, but he was so dismissive of her.

“Oh, yeah,” Kingpin stated, with an almost blank gaze. “Orville, would you mind?” he asked The Architect who was still bickering under his breath. He quickly took from his jacket a paper and a ticket which Felicia easily snatched from his hand and he couldn’t do anything about it as she gave a few steps back and checked it. “If you take the next train, you’ll be right on time”

Felicia stared at the tickets and papers for a second, you saw her shoulders relaxing and there was a slight curve on her plump lips. Kingpin had something that she wanted but you tried to go back to the times that you had shared and you couldn’t think of anything that Felicia would want other than survive. She would’ve escaped with or without Kingpin’s help, she could’ve gotten tickets anywhere but why did she need those exactly? You weren’t sure, but she had done a deal and it was her time to pay her part.

Before you even realized yourself, you raised from the rooftop where you had been with Peter and quickly pointed at the glass over where Felicia was but Peter quickly webbed your hand, throwing you off for a second, you stared back at him as you quickly slay the web from your hand.

“y/n, don’t!”

But you didn’t care at the moment, you turned around and pointed at the glass and fire. The glass fell over the men, some in confusion and some already firing at the ceiling, the people inside and surrounding the information booth were screaming but you could only see Felicia, who had covered herself but when she heard the energy from your suit.

She knew it was you.

She looked at you with widened eyes and a gaping mouth, maybe she thought the blast would hurt you a lot, maybe she thought that you were probably knocked out for longer or that it would be Tony and not you coming here. Some of the men were firing at you but the bullets didn’t bother you anymore, although you were cautious in case you detected another neutralizer, although you had fixed the glitched it still caused you to shudder.

“Hardy, stop,” you stated as you landed in front of Felicia, as men started to surround you and kept firing at you.

“Oh, look who we have here,” Kingpin chuckled as he looked around with a smug smile on his face and then cleared his throat. “Stand down,” he ordered his men and soon the bullets stopped hitting your suit, you looked right at Kingpin who gave you a small nod.

“It’s a pleasure Stark, we’ve been chasing each other like cat and mouse…I, for one-”

“I’m not here to talk to you,” you growled at Kingpin and your gaze returned to Felicia, who still seemed a bit perplexed that you were standing in front of her and that you had dismissed Kingpin so easily.

“What are you doing here?” she asked with such a small voice that Kingpin could barely hear her. She had a slight frown on her face but her eyes flashed with relief and, although you didn’t want to trick yourself, you believed that she was somehow happy that you were okay.

“You don’t need to do this,” you asserted as the nanobots of your helmet disappeared and your eyes locked in with Felicia.

Felicia grimaced as she saw your face, you weren’t exactly sure how you looked since you hadn’t even had time to fix yourself before you had come but by the look on Felicia’s face and the remainder of the thick liquid (which you assumed was blood) going down your face before, it didn’t look good.

“You don’t know anything y/n, stop,” she replied once more, but this time it almost sounded like a hiss and you could see how hot tears were threatening to fall from her eyes as she chuckled slightly, in incredulity that you were there and talking to her.

“Why would you need to do this?” you insisted as you gave a step towards Felicia, which only caused the men to point their guns at you, you glared at them and restrained yourself before you looked back at Felicia, “Talk to me.”

“Hasn’t she told you Stark?”

You looked back at Kingpin, who gave a maliciously smug look in your direction as he chuckled and crossed his arms. You wished you could fire at him right then and there, but you knew it wasn’t the moment. “Miss Hardy here’s doing this for her old man”

You looked back at Felicia as she looked away, the tears were finally falling from her eyes and you realized it was the first time you had ever seen Felicia cried, there was just one time when you had seen her so… blue. Your mind ran back to the day in Coney Island when you had first felt her lips on yours and your mind dug deeper into those memories.

“Why would you,” you trailed off as you realized when you had seen her like that when had her eyes lost the constant light that they had and everything clicked. “You told me he had died”

Felicia wiped her tears as she looked at you, you could see how she was hunched down and it seemed like it hurt her to only talk about her dad, it pained her. You’d never seen her looking as sorrowful as she was at the moment and you shook your head.

“He isn’t dead… yet,” she muttered as she looked at you silently, “Just, letting my dad die in jail isn’t part of my plan y/n.”

The honesty in Felicia’s voice was fulminant, the matter-of-fact tone she had to use was very clear to you. She wasn’t doing this out of some horrible personal gain that was vapid, which was something that you had feared a little bit. She hadn’t hurt you out of something superfluous but she had done what she had believed she had to do to save her family. But you simply stayed quiet, blinking slightly as you processed everything but then anger began to bubble up on your chest.

“I could’ve got him out,” you whispered at Felicia and you gave a step back, “I could’ve done something you…you asshole!” you snapped at Felicia, with the anger dripping from your voice.

You’d like to think that there was a mutual understanding between you and Felicia, ever since you had agreed that you would talk to her, you thought that there was trust between the two of you. You’d follow her blindly for months, you’d been so in awe at her that you thought that being on each other’s orbits for so long, getting to know each other, would’ve made her able to tell you what was happening.

Felicia blinked at your words and Kingpin too, almost everyone’s moth gaped at your statement and a few raised their eyebrows at your blowup. “Didn’t expect that kind of language coming from you, Miss Stark”

“Are you kidding me?” you yelled at Felicia, ignoring Kingpin completely as you glared at her but now, Felicia was fuming too.

“No, you are kidding yourself!” Felicia barked back at you, stepping towards you. It seemed like she had forgotten where you were, it seemed a fight between… people that were something more, “You are the type of people who would put him there in the first place!”

You scoffed at her statement while rolling your eyes at her, “I spent months lying for you, could you be any more clueless?”

“Don’t act like you would’ve done something, you are a freaking Avenger!” Felicia fumed, now trying to tower over you. She was breathing heavily, her eyes red and angry. You glared back at her defiantly as if facing her would change her mind, would change the course of how things had turned.

“I would’ve done something if you had asked me to! It didn’t matter if I was an Avenger,” you yelled at her, feeling hot and wound up, your hands were shaking and you realized how angry you were at her for ruining any possibility for a kind of honest relationship.

And then she said it.

“Liar!”

And it felt like something broke inside of you, your angry dialed down for a second you stiffened at Felicia’s words and you felt the knot on your throat that you’d always felt in moments like this but you pushed through it.

“Don’t call me a liar Felicia, not after you have been tricking me and betraying me for months now,” you stated gravelly, but you knew your voice had wobbled at the end as you tried to drown the urge to cry once more, “Even after you shot me…how dare you?”

Felicia looked at you with a gaped mouth and then there was just shame. The downward gaze, the wince at the thought of what she had done, and the trembling chin.

“y/n…” she started as she looked back with tears, “I didn’t fire directly towards you, just close enough so you could back out! I did car-”

“You didn’t, not really. Not like I cared about you,” you replied as you shook your head and looked quietly at the girl with purple-ish eyes, silver hair, and cotton candy smell that you’d cared for.

You realized that you’d tried so much to be someone for her, you’d tried to be there for her and you’d fallen for her, even if it wasn’t as hard or as bad, you did love her in some way that you’d never experience yourself and the pain returned on your chest.

“Not that it matters now,” you said quietly as you looked at her.

Now you were both crying, sorrow drawn on both of your faces and for the first time in your conversation, it dawned on you that you weren’t alone.

“Indeed, Stark,” Kingpin said interrupting you, once again with a grin. “Not that it matters now.”

“Right,” you said between your teeth and cleared your throat as you looked away from Felicia and towards the hunkering figure standing a couple of meters away from you.

“Now, if you excuse me, I would like to go home early today” Kingpin said apathetic, as he ordered one The Architect with a swift movement from his large hand to get the case from Felicia’s hands, but before Orville could give another step you interrupted him.

“Yeah, that’s not going to work” you answer as the nanobots began to cover your face.

There was a shift in the air, the moon was hovering over you brightly and it seemed like everything had quiet down, the tension grew as the seconds passed and no one dared to move but everyone seemed prepared, Felicia and you taking defensive stands as the men began to point at you again. Even Kingpin's hands turned into large fists as he stared at you, and now you realized how frustrated he was and the glare he had on you.

Kingpin wanted you dead and there wasn’t any turning back.

And then, you heard a slight Twhip! sound of one of Peter’s webs before you realized what he had targeted. Every single person inside the building looking from where it came from and before you could blink, the case was snatched from Felicia’s hands into the ceiling. Everyone followed the case to where Peter was, hanging from a web, as the case reached him.

“I hate interrupting a good convo, but I think the meeting’s over,” Peter pointed out from his place on the ceiling as the men gaped at the presence of him, but Kingpin nostrils flared up as he looked at Peter with fury.

Peter didn’t need to say anything, without hesitation, you pointed your hands in front of you and blasted them with all the energy that you could reach. Felicia easily ducked your shot, but it hit a few men and The Architect then The Prowler, and then Kingpin, who were sent backward against the main entrance of Grand Central.

The bullets started to be fire at you and Peter, but you quickly activated the small missiles that immobilize a few men, who quickly fell on the floor with a groan, as you kept firing at the ones that were coming after you while Peter was trying to avoid the bullets as swiftly and rapidly as he could.

“Peter, we need to get the civilians out,” you stated as you quickly took a guy by the neck as threw him against more men that were firing at you. “And get out as soon as possible with that case.”

“On it!”

Peter began to swing his way towards the Information booth, case in hand and avoiding the few bullets that the men tried to fire at him before you knocked them unconscious with a blast or throwing them away with your own hands or shocking them with electricity, anything before a bullet could reach Peter. You tried your best to keep up with them, but you weren’t sure how many there were, they just kept coming after you and you weren’t catching anything about Kingpin, the Prowler, or the Architect and then you heard Peter’s groan.

Peter managed to reach the booth, flipping backward and taking the men that were surrounding the people who were trying to cover themselves from the bullets. Peter was sure he could lead them to one of the sides exits without harm as you kept avoiding men firing at him since they were focused on you but before he could say anything, he fell from his web and landed on his side, harsh, his head foggy from the impact on the marble beige floors and he looked up to see Felicia landing next to him as she tried to snatch the case from his hand.

“Not in the mood for games, Spidey,” Felicia hissed but Peter didn’t care.

“Me neither, Kitty,” Peter growled as he kneed her in the gut and rolled backward, sending Felicia away from him, her claws leaving marks on the case.

Peter quickly looked back at you, while you sighed in relief as you continue to fire at the men and gave him a nod. You flew from your point and directed the men to chase you, the opposite way from where the information booth was. It wasn’t a great move because you were now against sword and wall, but you didn’t care as you started to see how Peter was sending people towards another exit while he tried to block any upcoming bullets that could harm them.

But then, Felicia came back again.

Peter could hear the screams of the people and his Spidey senses went off, he ducked Felicia’s kick for a second but not her hand, she quickly got him by the neck and threw him against the floor. More people seemed to run away as Felicia and Peter struggled with the case, but then Peter shot his web towards her eyes and Felicia growled as she tried to take it off. Peter kicked her off him, which sent her stumbling backward as Peter shot a web to the ceiling and rose from the floor, he quickly swayed and with all his force and tried to kick Felicia once more, hoping it would be it but before Peter realized, Felicia jumped and climbed on his same web, quickly cutting it off and holding into the case.

Both landed on the marble with a loud thud, breathing heavily and glaring at the other. Although this time, Felicia’s hand was the one on the case, she groaned as she tried to get up but before she could, you were firing at her from afar. You were almost done with the men that were still going after you but there were a few now, most of them on the floor, causing the beige floor to disappear thanks to the bodies that laid on them.

You had turned towards the information booth after the thud, and you realized that the people were gone from there.

“HAPPY, they are out?” you asked your AI as you looked at Felicia trying to stand up.

“Yes, Miss Stark, and ” your AI stated calmly and before he could say something else, you were firing at her.

It wasn’t like you were exactly pointing at her, you couldn’t. It didn’t matter exactly what she had done and the resentment that you were feeling, there was no way that you could hurt Felicia. You tried to fire at crucial points that could make her disoriented enough for Peter to lose her, which was your goal.

Peter quickly stood up and webbed Felicia’s foot to the floor, causing her to fall on the ground once more and to duck one of your shots close to her. She turned around to break the web but before she could, Peter shot another web towards the case and pulled it back towards him.

“y/n, we need to go, it’s done” Peter insisted as he shot a web and pulled himself towards the ceiling, he crawled to the hole that you had made to enter Grand Central in the first place.

“You have the case?” you asked him, breathing heavily as your eyes went to look for where Peter was.

“I got it, y/n come on it’s dangerous,” Peter insisted as you finally realized where he was, you sighed as relief washed over your body.

Peter was okay, he had fought against Felicia and he was okay, he wasn’t knocked out or shot, he was right there in front of you. People were out, Peter was saved and the mission was done, it caused you to smile.

“Let’s- AHHH!”

Peter’s heart stopped as he gazed back at where you were flying but you weren’t there anymore. You were being thrown like a rag doll by The Prowler. Your body crashed against the marble main stairs and you fell, landing on the ground, breaking the marble with a loud crashing sound.

“Y/N!” Peter cried from where he was and he shot another web, going down to where you were but before he could reach you, Felicia tackled him into the opposite side from you.

He was away from you and you felt it.

Saying that you were slightly foggy at the moment was an understatement. Your head was throbbing as each second passed and you were holding the place where you had been shot instinctively, you weren’t sure if the internal stitches were breaking but something didn’t feel right.

But then you opened your eyes and you turned your head towards where the slight sound was coming from, although it seemed so far away because of the impact. You saw Peter and Felicia, he was fighting her off with all his force, you could tell because you knew by heart how he used his webs when he was trying to immobilize people so he could go away, because you saw the urgency in his movements but he wasn’t doing much better, Felicia was counterattacking at the same pace. But then his gaze fell back to yours, even with masks, you knew he was looking at you and in which way.

It sent a shiver down your spine.

You didn’t want to be this, you weren’t done yet, you weren’t the one who needed saving. You had spent so much time admiring the people who you believed were fearless; Tony, Charlie, Pepper, Felicia that you hadn’t even realized that you could be fearless.

Just as Peter saw you, and it fueled you.

You screamed as you tried to stand up, ignoring the pain as you quickly fired at Felicia and then turned as you heard The Prowler’s characteristic energetic sound next to you, before he could attack you, you shot him with a continuous ray.

“Can’t you just fuck off?” you screamed, as you continue to tirelessly fire at him with your repulsors and elevating yourself a bit. Even though you knew you were reaching half of the energy on the suit, you didn’t care, it was throwing him off his game.

But then you stopped and The Prowler took advantage. He jumped up, grabbing you quickly by the throat and bringing you back down to the ground, he threw you, causing you to groan as you rolled over just in time for his gauntlets to barely miss you as he pierced the ground.

Standing back up, your reflexes reacted before you could as you caught his hand between yours, as he tried to punch you again with the electricity, gasping in awe that you were able to catch it and hold it long enough for him to snarl at you as he tried to recover his hand. Having his gauntlet so close made you realized for the first time how energy-based his suit was, you hadn’t even really thought about it and something clicked on your mind.

But before you could say anything to Peter, The Prowler grabbed you by the neck with his other hand as he raised you from where you were standing.

“Say goodbye, Stark”

It was the first time you had heard The Prowler’s robotic voice and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. Granted, he didn’t even give you much time to think as he squeezed your neck tighter and you started to feel how the nanobots were being crushed as well.

Peter barely ducked another one of Felicia’s kicks when his Spidey senses started to go off, which he considered strange given that he was already in a battle. But then he looked back at you, in the air, trying to take off The Prowler’s hands from you as the nanobots from your helmet wore off so you could breathe, but you were already turning purple.

“Y/N!” Peter screamed but Felicia threw him on the ground, he closed his eye, ready to receive another punch but there wasn’t anything. Peter opened his eyes to see that Felicia had disappeared and he turned to see how she was running towards you and The Prowler.

And he was in shock.

Felicia, without hesitation on her step, flew up into the air and with her two legs, kicked The Prowler on the chest. Effectively removing his hold on your neck and sending him stumbling backward before she landed next to you and turned over your body.

“y/n, are you okay?” Felicia’s voice seemed wobbly as she gazed at you caringly. “Breath, please” she pleaded with her trembling lips, her fingers trailing your cheek.

You took a deep breath and soon, you were coughing as you tried to raise from your place as Felicia helped you stand up, your eyes locked with Felicia’s and she simply smirked.

“What are you doing?” you croaked as you tried to clear your throat, it was sore but it was okay enough for you to talk to Felicia.

Felicia shrugged slightly as she fixed her hair and wipe out some of the dirt from her face, it was so weird that Felicia wasn’t as pristine as she always looked in a fight, she usually avoided any type of real damage because of how good she was. But you could see it in her eyes, how she was trying to avoid your gaze, how she was somehow regretful of what she had done.

“I told you I was going to be on the right team,” she answered, her voice small, knowing that you were caught off guard from her sudden change of heart but Peter didn’t even give you time to think about it.

Peter crashed against your body as he ran towards you, he cupped your face removing some strands of your hair and looked into your eyes frantically, and engulfed you in his arms. The redness on your face was dialing down but the previous cut you’d had on your eyebrow was starting to bleed again, now dripping down your neck. He could see the redness on your eyes and he knew well enough that if Felicia hadn’t had a change of heart, you might’ve been hurt.

“Peter,” you gasped as you took his hands off your face and laced his fingers with yours, squeezing your hold on him, assuring you that you were fine.

“I’m here, I’m right here,” Peter’s words stumbled against one another as he tried to keep checking on you, he could see the red blotches around your neck, he caressed them slightly, already turning a dark purple that was tainting your skin.

He quickly cradled the back of your head with one hand and wrapped his arm tightly around your waist with the other, pulling you into him in a breath. His heart was pounding in his chest, you could feel it and you’d like to think that you were on the same beat.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Felicia cleared her throat as Peter and you pulled away to see what she was talking about, while she rolled her neck, prepping. “We’ve got company”

You turned to where Felicia was looking, The Prowler standing up and recharging his gauntlets with a swift movement of his arms as he walked towards the three of you, a menacing aura around him as all of you gave a step back.

“Peter, you still have taser webs?” you asked softly as The Prowler came closer to you, the nanobots covering your face again.

“Yeah, why?” Peter answered as he took a hold of your hand with his free one, and held the case closer to him.

“Shoot him when I tell you and let me know when it hurts,” you said calmly as you quickly snatch the case away from Peter and ran the opposite way, Peter turned around and started to the web The Prowler up, who was trying to catch Peter, as he swung from his place next to Felicia and tried to drive him away from you.

“What about me!?” Felicia whined but you weren’t paying attention to her, but the repulsor in front of you. She sighed, annoyed at your demeanor but her attention was caught by the few Kingpin soldiers that were still around, the bullets were raining towards you but Felicia stretched her arms and with one swift movement her claws appeared and she started to take them down one by one.

You quickly took the gauntlet and the nanobots from one of your hands disappeared, so you could place it on. The waves of energy that you remember going through your body seemed a bit destabilize than the last time you had used it, maybe because Felicia had used it prior -although on a smaller scale- but you knew it you fire at the right scare, the repercussions of the blast would be bigger. Harley and Tony had been working on stabilizing the energy and you hoped that it had worked as you stood up and pointed at The Prowler.

“Spidey, now!”

Peter gave a swift backflip and landed next to you, The Prowler jumping in the air to attack him but Peter managed to shot a taser web on his chest before you fired at The Prowlers’ chest and to the web. The sheer amount of energy coming from your hand started to send your body backward but you buried your hills into the marble, trying to stop you from missing balance as you saw a bright light surrounding The Prowler who seemed frozen in time as the waves of electricity shocked him.

All the energy from the repulsor was focusing on the webs and the Prowler himself but also, it started to reach Peter. Peter’s arms were shaking as he tried to stand his ground next to you, but he was starting to feel the residual energy coming from the blast, his legs shaky. He wasn’t hurt per se but he was starting to feel how his web-shooters were growing hot, sparkles coming from them, and then his whole wrist started to tickle which then simply started to burn. And then you felt it too, you weren’t sure if it was properly calibrated for how long you’d been using it, maybe Harley and Tony weren’t thinking that it would have such a prolonged use and now you were feeling the consequences as sparkles started to appear on your hand too.

“AAAAHHH!” Peter screamed as you started to see smoke coming from the web-shooters and The Prowler itself, you quickly stopped the beam and saw how The Prowler fell and landed on his knees, smoke coming from his whole body but the purple energy of his suit seemed to be gone, then he fell onto the ground face first.

You walked slowly towards The Prowler, there were still sparks and small lightings surrounding his body, causing him to spam once in a while, but other than that he was out. You turned surprised, you and Peter had done it, you had glitched his program with the energy from the repulsor but then you saw Peter on the ground, breathing heavily as he tried to take off the smoking web shooters on his hands.

“You had to tell me if it hurt!” you reproached him as you kneeled in front of him, to check if he was fine. There were a few marks on his wrist, they were red, some already white, and with a bit of blood. Before Peter could say anything, you sprayed him with your free hand some of the regenerating liquid that you had installed on your suit since your incident.

“It’s okay,” Peter muttered as he looked up at you slowly as you took his hand on yours, cradling it for a bit. If you could only take off your masks, you thought to yourself as Peter squeeze your hand in his. “I feel better now,” he added softly as he reached for one of his web-shooters but you held one of his hands and then Peter felt his heart pounding on his chest, as well as yours.

You shuddered as you realized how you were holding onto him for dear life, you weren’t sure what it meant yet but there was something that had shifted.

You wanted to say something, anything to him but before you could, Peter quickly pulled you to his right, effectively dropping you to the floor before he fired a web towards one of the remaining men who were pointing at you from behind.

Peter took his other web shooter and raised it from the floor. “We’ll talk later, I’m fine!” Peter yelled as he swung his way towards where the men were standing with their guns, kicked them in the chest, and quickly broke the machine guns they had on their hands.

You shook your head with a smile but then your eyes landed on Felicia, as she swiftly slid on the ground under one of the men before she hit him on his balls, the man quickly bent over from the pain which allowed Felicia to use him as a base to throw herself towards another man, she wrapped her legs around his neck with so much force and swiftness that it took the man by surprise and she quickly threw him to the ground next to you.

She looked towards you and shrugged, as she saw you watching the unconscious man.

“What?” She asked as she walked towards you with a cat-like-grin, smugness dripping from it.

“Nothing,” you grumbled as you took of the repulsor from your hand, not wanting to make any mistakes with it, and quickly locked it in the case as Felicia stood behind you.

“I told you that I was going with the team that-” Felicia said but you quickly cut her off before she could say anything else as you fired towards a couple of the men that wanted to fire at you from the iconic (now destroyed) stairs.

“Yeah, the one that was going to help you survive, got it” you grumbled as you walked away from her and you kept blasting some of the men who had managed to dodge your shots.

“No, y/n,” She said as she took your hand and pulled you towards her, making you turn around and look at her. Felicia looked at you seriously, almost as if was looking at your eyes through the mask. “You are my team”

You felt your heart twisting on your chest, it lingered for a moment and you felt a jolt cursing to your body at the thought of Felicia feeling something about you. It was dizzying and confusing, the way she pushed you but pulled back and it hurt because you didn’t know if she was honest. But it didn’t matter much at the moment as you felt a blast of energy on your back, sending Felicia and you flying away, you landed meters away and the purple energy stopped, you turned to see Kingpin firing you from the stairs, coming for the case that was close to you.

His rigid cords in his neck, his bulging bestial eyes, red face, and clenched jaw; letting you know that he was beyond angry and you felt his fury from where you were standing. Kingpin until now had remained somehow calmed, but now it was a different story.

His movements seemed chaotic as he tried to recharge the weapon on his hands while climbing down the destroyed stairs, towards you. His usually sharp suit seemed in disarray and tainted some of the blood that was falling from his nose from the blast you had fired at him but he didn’t sustain any other injuries, most importantly his eyes were wide-open, a storm of rage in them, he seemed overall unhinged.

Which was never a good sign on someone who was firing at you with an alien weapon.

Before you could push Felicia away, he fired the purple beam again, which you had become used to by now and the nanobots quickly created a shield that you placed forward with your forearm. Felicia behind you as you tried to shield her as best as you could from the energy, knowing it was very likely that she could be exposed to the energy and have highly damaging burns on her skin.

Peter finished with, what he thought, was the last of the soldiers from Kingpin as he quickly webbed his hand into the wall and then punched him in the face for good measure. Then he felt his spidey senses go off, he saw how Kingpin recharged the alien gun and then quickly fired at you before he could even scream your name again. It seemed almost automatic how Peter fired one of his webs to the roof and swung with no problem towards where Kingpin was, he quickly webbed the gun and pulled it from Kingpin’s grasp, as he quickly taped it to the roof.

“No, sorry” Peter yelled as he swung towards Kingpin, who was trying to search for Peter as he turned around and Peter quickly kicked him in the face. “That’s cheating,”

Kingpin had this angered look as Peter landed next to you, helping both Felicia and you stand up, and then he started to walk towards you. You watched him and felt the anger filling your body, you had been so afraid of Kingpin, of how calculated he was, how cold and simply maliciously he acted. But now, as you watched him get closer and closer to you, you realized that he might not be as invincible as you’d thought he was.

You began to fire your repulsors against him, nonetheless, with the lack of energy from your suit, HAPPY was doing its best to reserve the energy that you had left. Therefore, Kingpin wasn’t falling back, he could withstand the shots that were hitting him and you swallowed hard as you realized that it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Fire at him with the repulsor!” Felicia shriek as she gave a few steps back while Kingpin got closer.

“I can’t!” you replied giving a few steps back while your eyes still lingered with Kingpin’s who was grinning devilishly at you. “It’s not calibrated, it can explode and kill us all.”

“We need to go hand in hand with him,” Peter said as he took your hand and pulled you back, he quickly took the case and threw it against one column, webbing it tightly and high enough for no one to reach it except for him.

“What!?” Felicia and you yelped at the same time while looking at Peter.

“If we do it together, we can defeat him. All of us,” Peter said as he turned to see Felicia, who was already in a defense position.

She swallowed hard as she looked at both of you with a bit of incredulity dripping from her eyes. “Just try to stay away from the fists,” she muttered before you turn to fire and him once more with the repulsor and Felicia ran towards Kingpin and Peter started to swing towards him.

You weren’t able to see much of what Felicia and Peter were doing, as your beams shined so bright towards Kingpin that you had to look back. You just saw her hair and Peter jumping from side to side, it seemed like a gymnastics show for Peter, both (Felicia and him) trying to avoid Kingpin’s larger-than-life fists. She kicked him in the chest, Peter in the face, and then Felicia gave one blow to one leg causing him to bow down for one second.

But then your normal repulsors went out, the bright light stopped coming from your hands and it was the chance that Kingpin was waiting. Before Peter could react, he saw how Kingpin took with just one hand Felicia’s leg and flung her into the air, her body bouncing against one column of the station and then falling into the ground.

He had flickered her like a fly.

“Hardy!” you screamed as Felicia groaned on the floor, struggling to stand up.

Peter tried to swing one more time to take another hit at Kingpin so you could check on Felicia, but before he reached Kingpin, something broke his web, Peter managed to land on the floor without much trouble but he looked up into the stairs to see The Architect. He was bloody, rage making his whole body vibrate and clearly disturbed as he held a rifle that he probably took from the injured soldiers and pointed it at Peter.

“That’s for how you left me at the club, you insect!” he yelled as he started to fire again and Peter avoided the bullets skillfully, but it was raft after raft and he knew he couldn’t bring that to you or Felicia, so he decided to deal with it.

You had heard The Architect screaming but you tried not to mind it as you shook Felicia’s shoulder, trying to wake her up from her foggy state.

“Are you okay?” you asked her as you cupped her face in your hand, Felicia wasn’t completely there but she nodded slowly. You sighed in relief and let out a small laugh, Felicia smiled at you too.

Felicia’s smile froze time for a moment, it was simple, it wasn’t meant to be more and you knew it but there was complicity between you two and you felt it. It was weird, loving-and-hating someone in such a small amount of times, it was a rollercoaster, unpredictable, the longing stares, the highs, and the lows. It was Felicia.

And then there was a strong grip on the back of your neck.

You let go of Felicia as you flipped over with the rockets on your feet and landed in front of Kingpin. Without any thought, you quickly threw a jab to his jaw, which clearly hurt as you heard the frustrated scream. Then, you tried to shoot your repulsors but before you were able to fire them at him, he grabbed both of your hands with his large fists, and then you felt the pressure, then the pain, the small crack of the nanobots, and then from your hand as he crushed them underneath his own.

“STOP!” You screamed with pain tinted all over your voice but then he sucked in a breath, reared back, and then head-butted you as hard as he possibly could.

It hurt, you saw the red lights on the screen of your suit as you stumbled back and fell to the ground, you were pretty sure that you had more than one concussion. You tried to stand up but Kingpin threw an uppercut towards you that you couldn’t dodge, sending you flying once more into the ground. You groaned on the floor, your knees buckled and fell forward, you could feel the taste of the blood coming from your nose into your mouth. You were aware that Kingpin was vicious but it was becoming too much, he was way too focus on you, on killing you.

“You have cost me enough, Miss Stark,” Kingpin spat as he got closer to you, his voice ricocheted on the walls and you tried to move, somewhere anywhere away from him. But he reached you once more, you felt another blow to your ribs now and then it smashed into the ground, you groaned as you rolled into your back and coughed. Alarms on your suit were going off and now you were more than disoriented.

Your whole body hurt and you were feeling exhausted. All the pain, the anxiety, the anger, the frustration- everything seemed to be coming down on you at once, and it was drowning you. It was useless now, you could feel the pain and the weight of so many injuries you had sustained that same day, you could feel the thick wetness of your blood on the side of your head, the incessant pain from your gunshot injury, and the general pain coursing through your body. You tried to crawl your way away from Kingpin but before you could, he grabbed you from your arm and hip, he raised your body, picked you up easily, and then threw you once more against a wall.

Your body was smashed against the marble once more and the pain almost became unbearable, your helmet filling up with blood as you spit it out. The nanobots quickly disappeared from your face as you coughed out blood that fell into the white marble as you looked back to Kingpin.

“The Avengers will drop one by one,” he roared, stepping over you and lifting you up by the neck. You struggled, your hands trying to take off Kingpin’s hold on you but now it seemed hopeless as he held you high. “This end, this little game of yours ends now.”

You watched the statistics on your screen, knowing that you still have somethings left to use but you weren’t sure if they would work. You looked back at Peter, trying to find him, you saw the black and red colors moving near the stairs, the gunshots sounded far away and the overwhelming need to cry flooded your body.

It dawned on you, that maybe it was the last time you would ever see him, the last time you would ever see his chocolate eyes and caramel curls, his galaxy of freckles, his scent of cinnamon and honey, you realized that it was all you wanted if it was your last moment. There was almost a primal instinct of reaching towards him, you raised your hand and tried to reach to where Peter was, but Kingpin realized it.

A malicious grin appeared on his face. “You’re weak, what even made you think that you could defeat me?”

Your eyes locked with Kingpin’s and anger fill your body, you weren’t sure if you were shaking because of the pain or because of the rage that you felt by seeing his shit-eating-grin. You had tried to prove a point for so long, you had tried to protect The Avengers, your family, and in doing so, the rest of the world. If you had to die for Kingpin to be caught so be it, for a second you weren’t afraid anymore, anger and calm washed over you. There was no point denying the inevitable, you felt calm and collected

“You’ll never win, you’ll end up in jail as all the others,” you spoke up softly as the hold on your neck became tighter and tighter. You could hear the slight crack of the already damaged nanobots thanks to The Prowler's previous hold.

Kingpin chuckled to himself as he looked at you. “I guess you won’t be there to see it,” he answered maliciously and you felt the grip breaking completely the nanobots on your neck.

You didn’t know if it was peace washing over you or the lack of oxygen because of Kingpin’s grip on your neck, but you close your eyes and took a deep breath. You felt content, death wasn’t scary and you knew it, what just bothered you at the end, was that you had to go without Peter holding you.

Goodbye Peter, you thought to yourself.

“Leave her alone!” you heard Felicia’s silvery voice as she roared, Kingpin turned around and you opened your eyes to see a flash of silver hair and a black suit, squaring Kingpin right on the face and slashing his face with her claws. He stumbled by the sheer force of the attack, the deep cuts she had made on his skin and he let go of you in the process, you fell into the ground, coughing as you tried to get as much air in your lungs as you possibly could.

Felicia’s claws seemed more pronounced than ever, you could see the strength on her kicks and hooks, how she flipped and roll in the ground as she ended with Kingpin, as she turned around you could see the fire in her eyes, the sheer anger she was feeling from what she had believed were your last moments. There wasn’t any hesitation on her steps as she kicked and flipped, Kingpin now with multiple scratches on his hands and suit, the most pronounced ones were three nasty cuts that were bleeding all over his face.

She was defending you.

“HAPPY, you have some of the regenerate spray left?” you groaned as you leaned into one of the closer columns before you were pouring some of the liquid in the cuts on your face as you tried to stand up on your wobbly legs so that maybe you could help Felicia, but as you did, you heard her yelping.

You raised your eyes to see how Kingpin grabbed Felicia by the neck as he was dodging some of her moves and he flung her again across the station. It wasn’t as hard as before and somehow Felicia managed, like a cat, to land on her feet.

Felicia hissed at Kingpin and started to run towards him to end what she had started, a slight frown on her face and narrowed eyes. But before she could reach him, Kingpin took from his blazer a small gun, one that you hadn’t detected, it was a usual one but Felicia didn’t have time to react completely. The gunshot ricocheted all over the station, along with Felicia’s shriek as she fell to the ground, grabbing her side.

“No, no, no,” you mumbled as you tried to walk towards Felicia as fast as you could, but Kingpin heard you, he turned around to watch your desperation, and he grinned. He quickly recharged his weapon and before you reached Felicia, you heard his ominous voice.

“Say goodbye to Miss Hardy, Stark.” Kingpin said before he fired again.

“NO!”

The gunshot sound left a ring on your ear, you didn’t know if it was because you were too close or because you were in a state of shock. There was a flash of red and black passing in front of Felicia, and then the thud of a body falling into the floor close to her.

There was no screaming coming from Peter, he simply fell to the floor as he let go of the web while he held his chest. He was lying motionless in front of you and your body felt rigid as you fell to your knees, you crawled over to him, tears already streaming down your face as you pulled his mask off and you nearly screamed as you picked him up into your arms, you felt your chest shaking as you felt like your mind couldn’t fucking grasp what you were seeing.

“Peter, no, oh god, no, no, no,” You muttered to yourself, it was almost incomprehensible as you looked at Peter, who had his eyes closed for a second. “Not you, not you, Peter, come on”

You tried to shake him, scrambling towards him and pulling him onto your lap as tears streamed down your face without an inch of self-control. Your hands were shaking as you stared at Peter, as you caressed his face and you started seeing the blood coming from his chest, tainting the red and black suit. There were two bullet holes on his suit, Peter was bleeding out in front of you and you tried your best to remain calm but you were almost shaking uncontrollably.

But then Peter grasped your hands softly, he was so patiently trying to calm you down by holding you tightly that you couldn’t even believe it. His eyes fluttered open and you could see hot-tears threatening to fall from his eyes as they locked with yours.

He will always be there, you thought to yourself as you recalled what he had said before this mess.

The way your chest felt like it had a grown a dark hole was something that you’d never thought you had experienced. You’d never, and truly never felt such despair, ever. You felt your mind going haywire as you saw how blood started to expand on Peter’s chest, your shaky hands tried to somehow cover the blood, it was irrational how you tried to stop the bleeding, but you quickly sprayed the regenerative cradled liquid that you had left, you were hoping it was enough, you were praying it was enough. You were erratic as you tried to spray more and more from the liquid, knowing that it maybe wouldn’t be enough.

“Peter?” you whispered, pressing your lips to his ear as you curled up around him. You began to move back and forth, as the tears started to taint Peter’s face too, you pressed your forehead to him as you held him tighter. “Not like this, not like this,” you sobbed out.

You were clinging onto him and he was doing the same, he was your center of gravity and you were his.

You could feel Peter’s eyelashes against your skin, you raised your head as you looked into him deeply. Eyes locking like the first time you’d met all those years ago, on a sunny afternoon in the lab. Where somehow Peter deeply knew that you were destined to be together, that you were his sunshine, his reason, his everything, he had doubted it for so long that he now felt stupid.

He realized now, as he was feeling somehow how the life was draining for him, as he felt his own blood pouring out of your body, that it was obvious that you were meant to be. He had been so stupid for letting you go, for not telling you how he felt when he could, for wasting time on others that were clearly not the right choice for the other. He wished that he had kissed you more that night, he wished that you would’ve to fight less, he wished that you would’ve spent more time together, he wished time.

But he didn’t seem to have more.

You didn’t know it was even possible for someone to convey so much love into one gaze, but Peter didn’t have to talk for you to know what he was saying. You understood completely because you knew Peter like the back of your hand because he was your center, he was gravity and everything pulled you back to him. It would be foolish to think that you could somehow avoid it, your feelings and now you felt so stupid for doing so. He had hurt you so much and you had decided to be hurt for so long, that it all now seemed stupid.

You knew what he meant, and you hoped he knew what you meant.

But Peter knew that if he didn’t say it know if he didn’t really speak then it would be left as a secret on his soul, he didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to die before you knew before you truly knew.

“It’s,” Peter started to mumble, but he coughed some blood. You tried to hush him but he shook his head softly as you cupped his cheek. “It’s you, it has always been you,”

A loud sob broke your chest and you were shaking uncontrollably, you were sure you heard how the black hole of despair was widening as you heard his words. You tried to hold onto him for dear life, you felt like you were going to drown in sorrow, how could you ever live in a world without Peter Parker?

“Don’t leave me, Peter,” you whispered as you pressed your forehead against him, your tears mixing with Peter’s as he shivered at your touch. “You were mine too,” the sob broke you as you cried along with Peter, who then closed his eyes.

It dawned on you that it was the last time you were going to be with Peter and you simply screamed at the sky, the cry ripped your chest and it even felt like it ripped the moon, as you felt like you were going to pass out as the sobs started to come out of you shamelessly. The cries were so raw and torn, they seemed to tear you open as you pulled Peter closer, realizing that you couldn’t live in a world without Peter Parker.

“I’m sorry,” you heard Felicia whispering, tears streaming down her eyes as well as she got closer to you, you raised your eyes to see how she was bleeding a bit, she had been grazed by the first bullet but she hadn’t been shot.

And then you heard the deep laugh coming from far away, you turned to see Kingpin’s satisfied expression as he watched the three of you on the floor.

“This is where I leave you,” Kingpin said before he tried to somehow clean his suit and then started to walk towards where the case was, taking the gun in his hand, he seemed ready to grab the case by shooting at the web.

And then your heart broke because this wasn’t the way it would end. This wasn’t it; Peter couldn’t die and Kingpin couldn’t win.

Although Peter seemed unconscious, you could still listen to the faint beat of his heart, you knew that his modified DNA was still working to somehow fix the wound, that maybe the little regenerative liquid was working too and you knew that if he got the right medical attention, he could even make it.

You grabbed Felicia’s hand and pulled her close to you, glaring at her as tears were still streaming down your face.

“Felicia, take Peter to Stark Tower,” you ordered her, between sobs. “You have to take him, now.”

“What?” Felicia asked confused as she wiped the tears from her face, her voice wobbly and she almost instinctively gave a step back, as if she was afraid of the heaviness of the task that was being given to her.

“He sacrificed himself to save you,” you answer back as you pulled Felicia forward by her hand and started to hand Peter’s motionless body to her. Felicia’s eyes seemed to be full of panic as you started to let go of Peter, giving him to her and then you looked directly into her eyes. “If you’re on my team, you need to save him.”

Felicia stuttered for a moment, but no words came out of her mouth as she stared into your eyes. But you didn’t budge, you didn’t change your expression or the seriousness of it, Felicia needed to go with Peter, now.

It seemed like you had stopped breathing for a second as you waited for Felicia’s reaction, you knew that if she cared about you, she would do it and you hoped that she did. You were starting to panic but before you did, Felicia took all Peter’s weight and leaned him into her, holding him by his torso and placing his hand over her shoulders.

“Do what you need to do,” Felicia answer as she took out her white whip and quickly latched it into one of the balconies, ready to get Peter out from Grand Central. You sighed and nodded, you turned to look towards where Kingpin was, ready to fire at the case, but before you turned completely around, Felicia interrupted you. “Stark, be careful?”

You simply nodded as you wiped the tears away from your face while Felicia climbed to the balcony with Peter in her arms, she didn’t look back as she carefully took Peter’s body and got out through the main doors of the Station. You turned to see Kingpin, you sighed deeply as your helmet close again, the red alarms still on the screen in front of you, along with the reminder that you were low on energy.

“HAPPY, what do we have left?” You asked as you cracked your neck, the pain was still coursing through your body but at the moment you didn’t care much, your mind was too busy crafting a plan to get rid of Kingpin.

“Miss Stark, you shouldn’t be using the repulsors cannon, or energy blasters or energy blade or-” the AI started but you interrupted as you started to limpidly walk towards Kingpin.

“Yeah, I get it, no energy. Can you tell me if we have something that works?” you asked as you wince at the sound of the bullets crashing against the marble, ready to cut the case from where it was.

“You have the shoulder-formed micro-missile launcher ready and the zero canons, along with some other smaller missiles” the AI informed you.

“Good, start firing them and safe the repulsors to lift me up when we are close enough,” you stated as you closed your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath and before you knew it, you were running alongside the missiles, ready for whatever would come your way.

Kingpin didn’t see it coming, he barely reacted since he had been too busy with shooting the case, which was already budging. He turned around with a frown, only for it to turn into a wince as he tried to avoid the missiles and it sent him flying backward. You were livid as you shot three quick rapid-succession smaller missiles that hit Kingpin, you heard his angry screams as you got closer to him. You quickly reached the column where the case was and without doubting it once, with the little energy you had left you flew to catch it with a quick jump that allowed you to rip the case from the wall, breaking a little bit while on it.

Though it didn’t last long as you landed almost abruptly on the floor, it wasn’t your best landing and your wounds were killing you, but you didn’t care. You knew that you had to get out of there with the case, otherwise it would turn ugly. You turned around to gaze at Kingpin who was starting to stand up but before he could, you quickly fired at him the last bit of energy you had with one of your repulsors.

“You can’t hurt the people I love and get away with it,” you screamed before you started to run away from Kingpin, your eyes on the stairs, ready to get out of there.

But then, you felt the loud and strong steps of Kingpin running towards you, you tried your best to fly away but your suit wasn’t working anymore and you cursed mentally, knowing that it meant a change of plans, that you didn’t like as much.

You turned at the moment when Kingpin, with his large hands, sent you to the opposite way of the door with a simple slap to your face as he reached you. You landed on the floor, head throbbing once more as you quickly took the case that had slipped from your hands for a second, you tried to stand up but Kingpin yanked your shoulder and you fell again onto the floor but with the case still in hand.

“I tried to be patient with you little Stark,” Kingpin growled as he looked down at you, before he quickly tried to crush you beneath his fists, you quickly dodge it by rolling to your side before you opened the case but then Kingpin tried to yank your leg. “But I’ve had enough. You will die today”

You hissed at the pain on your heel and quickly kicked his face with your heel, allowing you to escape for a minute and take the gauntlet with the new repulsor before Kingpin tried to grab you again, you turned around and your hook punched Kingpin across his face.

“I’m not little Stark,” you grumbled under your breath as you saw how Kingpin’s nose was bleeding even more profusely after your kick and your punch. His eyes were fire and his whole body was shaking with rage as he tried to wipe his nose from the blood, but the deep cuts that Felicia had done seemed to hurt him even more. “I’m fucking y/n Stark, and I’m ending this, now.”

Kingpin simply growled like an animal at your statement before he was ready to punch you one more time but before he could, you simply took a deep breath and felt the unbalanced energy that was focusing on your right arm. It seemed way more than ever before and you knew that by you have it, it could mean that it would end you.

Cinnamon and honey, was the only thing you thought about before you fired at Kingpin with the repulsor, and a white light blinded you.

And then there was silence.

Tony was the one who found you, between the debris of the destroyed Grand Central Station, your vitals were so small that he almost missed you. He had been on Stark Tower for about forty-minutes as he tried to evacuate the guests and everyone, then he reached the penthouse where he had encountered your friends, he had asked about you but his heart had torn from his chest as he saw the state of your room.

It wasn’t only until then that he realized that you were in trouble.

He had flown as fasts as he possibly could when Harley had told him where you were, and he had reached the station just in time to find Black Cat carrying Peter through rooftops of the buildings, she had tried to avoid the police knowing that they were going to arrest her but also (maybe) even discover Peter’s secret identity. Felicia was struggling so much with Peter; she was crying her eyes out but without making any noise as she and Peter left behind a trail of blood. When Tony landed in front of her, she didn’t blink or seemed scared, she seemed relieved as Tony took Peter into his arms, struggling to keep it together as he saw the kid that felt like a son bleeding out in his arms. He was almost about to fly away when he realized that Felicia was hurt too, he immediately knew who she was but he didn’t say her name, he simply took her hand and then flew to Stark Tower as fast as he could before flying back and reaching the station when it blew up.

The aftermath of the attack was greatly publicized all over the world. Every civilian was safe and no police officer that had been surrounding the perimeter and was attempting to step in was injured, Black Cat and Spiderman were recovering from their injuries, Kingpin had been found hurt but alive (incredibly) and was in a hospital before he was taken to prison and you were in a coma.

Bruce and Dr. Helen Cho weren’t completely sure how you’d make it alive from an explosion as big as that, but everyone was grateful that you had survived without any major injuries that they could detect right away, Bruce nonetheless preferred to put you to sleep so your body could recover.

All the Avengers had returned to visit you, to see how you were doing and even Fury who wasn’t fond of you spent a couple of hours in your room at the Medical Wing at the Compound. Tony and Pepper were on the first shift at five in the morning, then Steve and Nat, then they changed to Sam and Bucky, then Wanda and Vision, then Tony and Pepper again and then Rhodey and Bruce, Harley and Peter usually spent the night. It had been decided that you had to be on the Compound, along with Peter and Felicia to recover. It was best that you were away from prying eyes and in a place where every single person that lived there would take care of you.

It wasn’t until a week later that you woke-up alone in your room at the medical wing.

It was sunrise when you woke-up. The iris of fire-colored your room in the Medical wing, with a touch of golden light surrounding it. It was a cold sun of a winter morning, ones that you loved so much. You always thought that your body would be sluggish if you, by any chance, were subject to a coma but everything seemed to be dialed by a hundred as you opened your eyes and started to move. Everything ached from your injuries and the lack of movement from the past week, exhaustion also settled in your bones -even though you had been sleeping for so long-. Therefore, you had to take a minute before you decided to move again, deep breaths as the burning of your muscles continued for more than what you would like, it felt like multiple parts of your body were going to break in half.

It wasn’t until you felt accustomed enough to the pain that your mind snapped, you realized that you were definitely alive and immediately your heart stopped on your chest.

Was Peter alive?

“FRIDAY?” you rasped, coughing slightly at your sore and scratchy throat. You touched your neck slightly only to realize that you had bandages as well, and how they trailed down to your collarbone, torso and then you had a whole cast on your right arm. You supposed it was from the force of the explosion.

“Welcome back, Miss Stark,” Friday said smoothly as you raised from your bed and realized, horrified, how many tubes you had around you, on your nose, a central line, and the usual IV. “Would you like me to call someone to remove some of the medical equipment?” she asked, almost as if she knew you wanted to quickly take off the tubes and IV, so you could find out what had happened with Peter.

“No,” you answered quickly as you turned to see the notes of Dr. Cho and the other medical team that was on the desk next to you. “Can I take this off myself without bleeding out Friday?” you asked as you went through the notes, reading them as fast as you could.

You had various skull fractures, internal bleeding from your wound and you had been operated on to reinforce the stitches, you had a dislocated shoulder and a fractured arm, a broken rib even that had punctured your lung, burns on your right arm. Everything was accompanied by multiple scratches, lacerations, cuts, and bruises. You shivered at the thought of what your body had dealt with and how it could’ve been worse but your mind simply pushed it on the back of your mind as you tried your best to see how you could remove the tubes around you.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Tony said as he rose from the sofa in front of you. You knew how Tony looked when he was tired or when he was concerned, but the way he was looking now was something else that you would imagine.

Tony looked more sunken and broken than you’d ever thought possible. The deep purple bags under his eyes were something that your dad would never get, he had spent so many sleepless nights that you believed he was immune to them, his red-rimmed eyes were also something that didn’t fit with the usual image you had from Tony or the most prominent fact was the tired expression that almost forced his face down.

And it hit you that you were the reason he looked so bad; you were somehow the reason everything had somehow turned bad. Although you didn’t know what had happened with Kingpin, you knew that Peter and Felicia had been hurt and that you had most definitely destroyed a great part of an iconic historic building. And now your dad, The Avengers, your whole family had to deal with your erratic actions, with your mistakes, with your choices.

It felt like you were going to throw up when you realized that Peter’s death would even be your fault, guilt started to drown you.

You cracked.

“Dad,” you sniffled, as you cover your face with your hands in shame for what you had done, ashamed of your actions and the consequences they had, ashamed that you might be the reason that Peter hadn’t survived.

Your whole body began to shake uncontrollably, cries coming one after the other, almost escaping your lips involuntarily. But suddenly Tony simply walked over to you, pulling you quickly into his arms and holding you close as the tears fell from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried against Tony’s chest.

“Sh. y/n, it’s alright,” Tony said as he caressed your hair, but it didn’t seem to ease your crying as you held to Tony tightly. Your dad, as strict and demanding as he always had been, was also the one person you admired the most, the one that you had shaped your life after, and disappointing him hurt more than what you would’ve liked to admit before.

“I’m sorry,” you pulled away and looked up at your dad’s softened expression. You didn’t want to say the words but your mind wasn’t able to handle anything else. “Di-did Peter…”

Tony reached down and held your face as he listened to you, but he seemed rather confused until he understood what and why you were asking, you didn’t know what had happened.

“He made it. I found them on time,” Tony said quickly to ease your concerns but it only caused you to cry, even more, gratefulness washing over your body as you realized that you hadn’t lost Peter. Peter Parker was alive and you felt like you could breathe again. “He’s in the next room, he woke up two days after everything happened, he also asked for you when he woke-up.”

You felt like putty on your dad’s arm as tears streamed down your face but now, you had a slight smile on your face as you tried to deal with the fact that Peter was okay and that he had been asking for you. It dawned on you how much you depended on Peter, how even if you knew that you didn’t need him, the thought of living in a world without Peter Parker seemed too heavy of a burden for you to handle, you wouldn’t have known how to cope, how to live.

And then your mind wandered back to the one that helped him save him.

“And, how’s she?” you asked as you pulled away from your Tony’s arms and laid again as your dad wiped the tears away.

“She’s good, she was ready to go since day one but she wanted to stay until you were okay,” Tony explained to you and you couldn’t help to blush like you always did when it came to Felicia, the mercurial highs you experienced when you thought about her and the meaning of your relationship. “You wouldn’t think a criminal/hero would be your type,” Tony chuckled and you giggled a bit.

“She’s different,” you admitted as you and your dad chuckled while looking at each other but then the air turned a bit heavier as the laughs died down. Your eyes still locked and you knew that it was going to be a hard conversation.

You had resented your dad for so long, for wanting you to be one specific way, for keeping you in a cage and you realized on your last moment that none of it was worth it. Anger washed away when you knew what you had to do, you realized that you felt sorry for how your actions had hurt others but not about doing them, you had accomplished your mission and that was all it mattered.

“I’m sorry for everything I did, I’m sorry for lying and for making the wrong choices. I didn’t mean for any of these to happen, I just wanted to do the right thing and to show you that I’m…” you felt the knot on your throat, so familiar. For the first time in forever, it seemed to stop you as you looked at Tony.

“Y/N, you will always be enough,” he stated softly as he caressed your hair. “Although I don’t agree with a lot of things, you did what you believed you had to do to save people. You were willing to sacrifice yourself to do the right thing and I couldn’t be prouder of you. You don’t need to prove yourself to me or to anyone, you are who you are and that makes me the proudest and happiest dad.”

You felt your lower lip wobbling, eyes filling with tears as you took his hand in yours, placing it back down on the bed as you held it tightly. You weren’t sure how it had happened, but the way peace washed over your body, how it seemed to wash the pain away, felt like something new.

“Thank you, dad”

Tony brought Bruce and Dr. Cho after your conversation, they removed some of the tubes like the central line and the oxygen tubes, but the IV had to stay in and you were ordered to remain in bed for a couple of more hours. They wanted to do testing, check your vitals for a longer period of time, and keep you in observation longer to see if there was any problem with you. Much to your dismay. The longing of seeing Peter only grew deeper when Tony told you that he had gone to see May in Queens, he had been waiting for you to wake-up that he hadn’t even visited May after she had come by to be with him while he was out and in surgery.

You understood the point and you decided to think something else as you were chained to your bed, the perfect distraction walked in unannounced as she usually did.

“You know, I knew you were badass but not badass enough to destroy Grand Central,” you heard Felicia’s silvery voice from the frame of the door.

Felicia didn’t have her suit anymore, she was wearing some mom jeans and an oversize cardigan that fitted her nicely, as everything did with her. She had a sassy smirk drawn on her face, the same coy tone that she had used when you first had met her but you could also see a striking light on her eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

You weren’t sure what it was but it fitted her nicely.

“Don’t need to remind me, it’s kind of embarrassing,” you groaned from your bed with a small smile.

Felicia giggled and then walked towards you, she swiftly climbed into your bed but she stayed at the edge of it as she stared down at you. She had the same kid-like expression that she had when you had visited Coney Island together, she was bright and herself. The warmth she had brought to your life, how she had been that fearless role model that you believed you needed, she was unapologetic, and how you had loved every single moment.

But then, her eyes turned remorseful as she detailed all your injuries.

“I’m sorry, for everything,” Felicia said softly, her eyes down as she nervously played with her hands, taking one strand of her silver hair to the back of her ear.

“I know,” you answered but it didn’t really seem to go through Felicia’s mind.

“I… It didn’t start like that, I swear,” she stated grimacing, as she tried her best not to look at you. She seemed so pained at the sight of you, it made you wondered if she had been as afraid as she had been the last time. “Just, when he found out, the terms of the agreement changed and I had to choose between saving my dad and…” Felicia’s chin started trembling as she tried to keep it together.

But you tried to raise from your place and take her hand, you just couldn’t completely so you simply patted the empty space next to you in the bed. Felicia looked up and immediately crawled next to you. You could see how hard she was trying to keep her tears from falling but you knew that if you kept the conversation in the same direction, they would be staining your bed.

“I understand, I still think that you were an asshole but I understand,” you answered as honestly as you could as you held Felicia’s hand tight, she laced her hand in yours. “Thank you for saving Peter,”

Felicia shook her head.

“He saved me, so we are somehow even,” she answered back, somehow still having some residual jealousy from Peter, you could feel it on her voice. “I love you, y/n. You know that, right?”

It was strange hearing her said that for the first time when everything had come undone when you were simply climbing from the lowest of lows in the rollercoaster that your relationship was. It was even stranger that you were aware that you were also in love with her but knowing that you couldn’t be with her. It wasn’t like you had stopped loving her, but the idea of going back to a real relationship with her after everything that had happened, after everything you had realized, didn’t seem right.

“I love you too Felicia, but I just can’t…” you spoke softly, as honestly as you could, and with a modulated tone that even surprised you.

“It’s okay,” she sighed softly as she looked at your y/e/c eyes. “I knew it was never just me, y/n.” Her answer made you furrow your eyebrows as you tried to really understand what she meant with not just her, rapidly blinking as you tried to listen to her carefully. “Come on, you know what I’m talking about,” she insisted as she squeezed your hand for a second as if it was a nudge that she would usually give you. “It was never just me, you couldn’t just love me, not completely at least since the start. He was always there”

Peter’s presence in your life and, therefore, in your relationship with Felicia seemed to dawn on you. But it was strange, you always thought that Felicia was this untouchable being, that her jealousy was small but that it wouldn’t taint your whole relationship.

But it had.

“It doesn’t mean that I didn’t or that I don’t,” you stated quickly but Felicia smiled as she placed her thumb over your mouth softly, you stayed silent as she ran her fingers through your curls.

“I know, it’s okay Stark. I can survive,” she answered playfully, as she naturally was and her eyes gleamed with confidence.

“You always do,” you assured her as she climbed down from the bed.

Now on the edge next to your head she leaned down placed a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth, so softly and with so much love that it was almost palpable in the air. You melted into the kiss as you leaned into her a bit more, into the cotton candy scent, you knew her by heart, all her little things and so, you knew what the kiss meant. It felt like a goodbye kiss, you could feel it by how her plump lips were purposeful and loving, but without the sheer intensity and raw want that they had before.

You felt the knot on your throat because you knew her and what it actually meant, beyond breaking up.

“You are going to skip town?”

Felicia rose from your bed and finally let go of your hand she placed her hands on her pockets and sighed, she seemed to be choosing the correct words to actually tell you but when she looked at you again, it felt like she knew she could be honest.

“Maybe, your dad arranged for my dad to get out the day that you woke-up. He’s being sent to a hospital and I’ll be with him for a while,” she answered truthfully and you felt your heart skipping a beat of joy as you realized that Tony had helped her and that, for what it seemed, there were no streams attached to the deal.

“Am I going to hear from you again?” you asked as Felicia started to walk towards the door, her hips going side to side and with the same confidence that she had the day you had met her.

“Maybe,” she stated with a shrug, you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be a stranger,”

“Never for you, Stark” she answered honestly as she reached the door.

“Be careful, Hardy”

Felicia looked back at you with her purple-ish grey eyes and there was fondness drawn on her features, she watched you lovingly from afar and you knew it was going to be a while until you saw the girl that had put your world upside down. You were so grateful for her and for what it seemed; she was grateful for you too.

“You too, Stark”

The rest of the day you spent between sleeping, people taking out your blood, being transported into a larger regenerative cradled that Dr. Cho had brought, and changing your bandages. But deeply, you were just anxiously hoping to see Peter at the end of the day. You were hoping that he was going to be back sooner, but each time one of the Avengers came in, they would tell you that he hadn’t arrived.

It was frustrating and disappointing, especially when Dr. Cho and Bruce told you that although you were technically allowed to walk, you shouldn’t be walking. Therefore, there wasn’t really walking allowed until they had approved it. You fumed a bit but you tried to dial it down, being angry seemed to simply make your bones ache more. You simply asked them if they weren’t willing to let you walk, then when Peter came back, they should send him to your room immediately.

They agreed, then you asked for sushi and to be alone, Tony was a little bit cautious but he agreed.

A couple of minutes after he left the room, you were taking a deep breath and getting ready to leap from your hospital bed. Your whole body seemed to scream as you land your feet on the cold floor, it really did felt like someone had pulled you apart and then had tried to pull you together, the gravity making your muscles burn but after a minute or two, you managed to slowly start paddling towards the door in search for Peter.

The door opened and before you could give another step the boy with the galaxy of freckles stood before you.

Peter still looked pale but it was miles away from how he had looked when he was bleeding out on your arms a week before. You could see between his white shirt the bandages that were wrapped around his torso and chest, it was similar to the bandages that accompanied the cast that went right up to below the elbow, and then the thick bandages wrapped around your collarbone and shoulder, just above your elbow. Both of you had small band-aids scattering over your faces and body, along with taped down gauze pads and bandages that were covering random stitches and scratches.

You both looked like messes, indeed. You tried to recall where you had been injured the same or worse but there wasn’t any memory coming back to you as you locked eyes with Peter. Not that it matters, because at the end of the day you were the same.

“Y/N,” he smiled tiredly, teary-eyed while he realized that you were okay.

The waiting had been killing Peter slowly. As soon as Peter had woken-up, he started to ask for you non-stopped. He had realized that you had been left alone to deal with Kingpin, that he hadn’t been there as he had promised but Tony had convinced him that he wouldn’t be there at all if Felicia hadn’t gotten him out as you had instructed her.

Peter had, therefore, as soon as he was able to leave his bed, stayed at the foot of your bed every night. He had moved the small couch in the room next to you, so he could be as close to you as possible while Harley stayed in the larger couch that was farther away from you. By the third night, Tony had decided to move the bed from his room in the medical wing to yours every night, until he had decided to see Aunt May.

He had been on May’s apartment, the apartment where he had lived for so long having a small dinner after May had reproached him how they weren’t spending as much time together when he almost died. She felt terrible after, knowing that Peter simply didn’t want to leave your side, but he also understood May and how scared she had been.

He didn’t have good timing though; he had left his phone in his room while he spent the day with May and he only heard him while they finish an early dinner so that Peter could go back and sleep with you. But then Tony called again and Peter caught it, you were awake.

He had rushed to the compound only to directly find you at the door. Peter winced as he saw the multiple injuries you had, it pained him beyond what he believed to see you that way. His PTSD after seeing you get shot didn’t make it better, he remembered how scared he was about losing you, how he had been almost certain that you weren’t going to make it. And here you were not even a month after, Peter hated it.

You didn’t react when you saw him, you knew you couldn’t open your mouth, or otherwise, you would start crying and nothing would stop you. So, you only took his hand and walked with him towards your bed, softly and quietly. Peter didn’t say anything, he didn’t want to, the silence that settled between the two of you was enough for him to know what you wanted.

You climbed to the bed slowly, trying to be as careful as you could with your injuries but Peter didn’t wait, he picked you up easily and placed you in the bed before climbing next to you. You laid there looking up to the ceiling while Peter was curled up next to you, you took his hand again almost instantly and your legs tangled together. You breathe out slowly as you felt the warmth that you had always felt around Peter when you were together.

And you recalled how it felt in the moments that you believed that he wasn’t there.

“You can’t do that again,” you whispered softly without looking at Peter, eyes still trained in the roof.

You were trying not to cry; you were done crying but it seemed almost as if all the feelings that had been bottling up on your body were finally released. You hoped that it would stop soon because it had become exhausting to feel the wave after wave of tears, anger, sadness, fear, everything.

“What?” Peter asked shyly as he watched you softly, as his fingers daintily ran through your hair as you closed your eyes and sighed for a moment, trying to find the words that wouldn’t break your voice.

“You can’t just…” you stuttered and Peter waited patiently as you tried to say how you felt. “You can’t just willingly get hurt.”

“I…”

“I know that a stupid thing for me to say but you just can’t,” you stated as you felt the burning tears escaping your eyes again, while you tried with frustration to make them stop by wiping them from your face as soon as they started to fall.

Peter was at a loss of words as he watched you quietly. Hadn’t you realized why he had done it? You turned to watch Peter and your eyes locked, with your right arm, as softly and delicate as you could, you traced Peter’s features. You tried to memorize how he looked at that moment next to you, you knew that you could imagine every tiny detail of Peter’s body if you were asked to, but you wanted to keep this image in your memory.

Something that assured you that Peter would always be there, even after the worst had happened. You felt like it was the only thing you could keep other than the feeling of being grateful to know that he was there.

“Just, why don’t you take into account that I love you?” you pouted, chin wobbly as you recalled his blood-tainted suit and how he had told you that you were his. “I felt so helpless holding you while I saw you leaving me and I couldn’t do anything”

Peter froze when he heard the L-word in present, his heart was hammering on his chest and he was sure that he was blushing as he gazed at you. Peter had waited years, years, to hear you say what you were saying and with the actual meaning that he wanted to hear. It wasn’t in past, it wasn’t polluted by past lovers, it was truthful and it was raw and it was everything that he ever wished for.

“I did it because I love you,” Peter whispered softly as he shifted on the bed and got closer to you, just a breath away from you as his hand came to cup your face. “If Felicia died… I mean, she was your girlfriend. I just want you to be happy y/n, that’s all I want for you and I didn’t want you to lose her,”

It just dawned on you, how selfless the love that Peter had for you was. You had waited for years, years to hear him say that with all the raw feelings, without any other ties of past fights and hurts, without doubting it for a second. It was an honest love; it was everything you had ever wished for.

“Thank you,” you answered honestly because you knew you would’ve been devastated if Felicia had died but you didn’t know if you would ever feel such despair as you felt when you thought Peter was dying. “But just understand that I will always be happy if you are in my life, Peter Parker,”

Peter’s smile lit up the room as he looked at you with his bright chocolate eyes and when he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, you knew that you had reached Nirvana. He breathed life back into you with his warm and soft lips that tasted like honey and cinnamon as you tried as carefully as you could to get as close to him as possible. You had dreamed about this for so long that it almost seemed surreal that it was out, everything was done and your soul lighting up as you kissed Peter with all the energy on your body, everything that you felt was Peter Parker. You wanted to be consumed by him, you wanted to forever have Peter with you and you had never been as sure about anything before.

“I’m always going to be here, I promise y/n”

He was warm, he was your home and you smiled as you leaned again into him.

******

taglist: @spideylovin @fandomtrash100 @soullessbabee @liljennyx3

******

author’s note: Okay so ONE MONTH LATER THE FINAL CHAPTER? YES. This was so hard to write and it took me like a loooooooot of time but I really hope that you enjoy it. Next week (I promise) we will have the Epilogue and I’m going to write a blurb at your request about Felicia and y/n in this universe so PLEASE if you have any request, you can tell me in my inbox and I’ll be more than happy to answer.

This has been a ride and I’m really thankful to everyone that took the time to read this series and that were kind enough to send me feedback and comments. I really really appreciate it and you can imagine how you made my days.

I’ll update de epilogue tomorrow and there’s a playlist that will come tomorrow pinpointing an exact scene for a song, I would like to know what you would think will happen in the Epilogue.

please please please let me know your thoughts and opinions on this chapter and if you have ANY theories or comments I would love to see them!!! I’m already so happy with the love you have given to the last chapters, I really hope you like it! any feedback is well received and thank you so much!

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remmushound · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! I have another request. Could you do a story where 2012 Donnie decides to use the Rise!Turtles' weapons for a test drive without their permission? I imagine 2012 Donnie trying to figure what kind of materials it has in order to create the mystic weapons and testing it out. But then things goes wrong and he attempted to fix it but can't. Bet the Rise!Turtles won't be so happy at Rise!Donnie's counterpart for taking their weapons without their permission.

@assanmaharielsreblogs

He had to get a better look at them. I mean, when else was he gonna get a chance like this one? In his world there was no magic— there was tech far behind his understanding, sure, but that was still tech. Tech that someone engineered, using their own knowledge, for a specific purpose. But here? It was all over the place! Just one patrol using Donatello’s goggles had keyed him into hundreds of mystical hotspots all around the city! He had seen their weapons in action, but he needed to see them closely— in controlled settings under a microscope! To see the inner workings and try to replicate them! If he could get his hands on that kinda tech, then he and his brothers would be unstoppable! And these guys were just using them like toys! Well, not on Donnie’s watch!

Michelangelo’s kusari-fundo had been a difficult thing to snatch. The box turtle was sleeping with the thing on his bed, hugging the weapon like it were a toy. If Donnie hadn’t known better, he’d have said the blades looked almost soft. Michelangelo snored just like Donnie’s Mikey did, tucked under a soft, fluffy comforter and dressed in an orange unicorn onesie. Mikey shared the bed with him (as did Leonardo with Leo and Raphael with Raph), but the older box turtle was sleeping like a rock.

Donnie carefully pried the tool from Michelangelo’s grip with the skill and delicate touch of a true ninja, quickly replacing it with a stuffed animal. Michelangelo gave a soft groan at the disturbance, but quickly hugged the toy as he settled once more. Donnie grinned and looked at the weapon in his hand. Staring into the slick, painted surface, Donnie almost thought he saw an eye staring back at him. He quickly shook his head, looked back, and the eye was gone. Just his mind playing a trick. Leonardo was next.

******

“What are you doing?”

Donnie almost screamed. “Wha— what are you doing awake?!”

Leonardo crossed his arms and glared, his face remarkably bare without his mask and only slightly stifled by a blue nightcap.

“I’m a ninja with crippling insomniac tendencies— sue me.” Leonardo said calmly. “What are you doing with my sword?”

“Uh.” Donnie glanced between Leonardo and the katana he was holding, “nothing?”

“Nothing?” Leonardo scrutinized with a piercing gaze that seemed to call Donnie out in his lie

Donnie hesitated, then sighed. He gave a light laugh and ran his hand across his head. “S-sorry! Just panicked. Other Donnie wants to uh. See if he can use some of the mystic energy from your katana to reverse-engineer a rift for us to get home— me and my brothers, I mean.”

“Ooookay.” Leonardo’s eyes betrayed his distrust, but he didn’t say a word against it, “just ask next time, okay?”

“Yeah. Will do.”

********

Getting the Tonfa from Raphael was nerve wracking. Access to Donatello’s staff was easy— Donnie already had permission to examine and admire its inner workings, so his touch was programmed into the systems anti-theft database as a non-threat. Michelangelo’s kusari-fundo required stealth, sure, and Leonardo’s sword required cunning, but this? This required him escaping with the Tonfa and from the crushing bite of a genetic predator. No matter how calm and content he acted while awake, after that first night’s run-in with savage Raph, Donnie was more than cautious to avoid another similar outburst. Lucky for him, the Tonfa were hung up at a safe distance from the snapper on the wall, and Raphael’s snoring drowned out any noise he might have made.

And just like that, Donnie had everything he needed for a test run. Of course, he was far more skilled with the familiar bō staff than with any of the other weapons (past experience had taught him just how difficult learning a new weapon could be, nevertheless mystic ones), so naturally Donatello’s bō was the first one to try out. Though it itself wasn’t of mystic origin, Donatello had stated many times of the mystic enhancements that made the weapon flourish from a simple multi-tool to what could classify as a weapon of mass destruction.

“Okay...” the staff, despite its greater size to the one he was used to, was surprisingly light in comparison. A quick weigh-in brought it to only fifteen pounds which, given the amount of tech it carried, was an incredible feat. Just how his younger counterpart could manage such a thing seemed almost impossible to the older Donnie’s mind, but that only served to scratch his curiosity even more! There were so many buttons on the shaft he didn’t even know where to start...

He went for the biggest button first out of pure, childish curiosity. This curiosity led to the worse possible outcome as the end of the bō furrowed out and turned into a compact rocket, which turned sideways on itself and shot out sparks of power. Donnie tried to catch himself, but it was too late. Already the power of the launcher dragged him off his feet and forced his unprepared body into a spin. It took his mind a few seconds to catch up with his body and press the same button to withdraw the blaster.

“Note to self... big button bad. Shoulda known that.”

From them on, he was much more careful with his examine. Every press of a button was met with a brace-for-impact in case a similar issue occurred, but he thankfully avoided such an outcome. One button shot a burst of electricity out the opposite side of the bō from where the blaster was, while another button shot two reinforced wings out either side to form a glider. Another button produced a blade on either side of the staff, and another revealed a compartment filled with gauze and alcohol thread and a needle safely tucked into a surgical pouch— an emergency kit, he supposed. He remembered Donatello also having a much bigger one in his battle shell, so this turtle obviously came prepared. Another compartment had a pair of glasses and a bottle of ibuprofen.

“Wow. No such thing as traveling light, I guess.”

He put the bō staff safely to the side before grabbing the Tonfa next. He placed both Tonfa on the table and the first thing he did was examine one of them under the microscope. It was nothing special— just redwood, as far as he could see— albeit old enough to date back to ancient Japan and perhaps even further. Then he put on Donatello’s goggles and looked at the Tonfa through the lenses, which opened up a whole new world of beauty to the normal-looking weapons.

The Tonfa lit up an impossible red, and on the screen appeared the word Muladhara. The red chakra— the root chakra as Donnie knew it best, represented by a red lotus with four petals. Vitality and strength. Instinctual tendencies and the densest of all seven chakras. The more his mind worked it over, the more it made sense. Muladhara was Raphael down to the finest detail. It commands attention and can be forceful at times. The color of passion and love and determination— the color of anger and daring. A color and chakra associated with abandonment and inherited trauma...

Donnie didn’t want to think about it anymore. And he didn’t dare try to activate the weapons knowing their power. He sat them aside and moved onto Leonardo’s katana.

Like the Tonfa, they were nothing special at first glance. Blades made from tamahagane steel common in ancient Japan, and the Tsuka was as unique as every tsuka, covered in ray skin and silken rope, with writing from the first ever wielder of the blade.

Anatawa Hitorijanai... you are not alone.

Under the goggles, another new vision of the mystic weapon opened up for him. The blue chakra of course— Vishuddha. The throat chakra. It took a lot more critical thought than with Raphael’s weapons, but Donnie supposed that the chakra could fit Leonardo. The balance of Vishuddha would speak truthfully, encouraging conversation and relying on self expression. Speaking with confidence and feeling compassion for those around you— communicating your worries even when you were scared to... but an unbalanced Vishuddha with no way to express it could easily lead to the anxiety Leonardo often felt in social settings. Perhaps his chakra was underactive, or blocked completely, by the feeling of something... unfulfilled in his life.

Donnie had more confidence experimenting with the teleporting sword than he did with the Tonfa. He wouldn’t have to go through it himself, he figured— he could just toss something through and study how it worked. He picked up the blade and looked it over before holding it out to the air in front of him. Leonardo had told him that he had to have a very clear image in his mind— no other thoughts clouding it. Any mistake or misthought could lead to an unstable portal, and unstable portals were extremely dangerous. You could get trapped between rifts, or get portal jacked, or end up hundreds of miles away from where you intended! Donnie closed his eyes to better imagine the room in front of him. Every fine detail... every flaw and crack and puddle and crawl space... every bug skittering around and every sound and every smell surrounding him like a cloud of mist.

He traced the blades point through the air and he was sure he could feel some minor resistance, but he kept focusing on the room. Droplets falling on the stone floor... forming puddles...echoing down the tunnels...

He completed the circle and opened his eyes. Immediately he pulled back as the brightest shade of turquoise almost blinded him, and after a moment of shielding his eyes he finally forced himself to look toward the brightness. The circle wasn’t perfect. In fact, the rift itself seemed almost squiggly, as if distorted by water. Distorted, but hopefully functional. Donnie took a pen out of his tool belt and reluctantly approached the portal, resisting against the temptation of its mystic pull and holding out the pen ready to throw it in. Then another thought occurred to him. What if he just…

He dropped the pen. At first the pen made as if it was going to fall but stopped midair by some otherworldly force. Then it was drawn to the portal and through it with a bubbling noise as it disappeared. Then another rift came to existence above Donnie and, before he could do anything more than look up to it, the pen fell out and hit him on the head.

“Ow.” It didn't hurt, but he said it anyway as he picked up the pen and put it back where it belonged. Curious. Very curious…

He took the sword and slashed through the original portal, destroying both it and its awkward counterpart with nothing more than a soft blip as the magic returned to the blade. There, no harm done! Now all that was left was Michelangelo’s.

A long chain, surprisingly rust-free for how far back it dated. The previous owners must have taken extreme care to keep it in the shape it was in. A chain that, despite how flexible and controlled it looked in Michelangelo’s skilled hands, was short and almost stiff in Donnie’s. The weighty was only on one end, as opposed to both as would be used with most kusari-fundo. A round weight with a ring of spikes across it. Donnie gave one point an experimental poke and yelped as it broke the skin and he started to bleed.

“Another note to self— pointy bit sharp.” He examined the serrated edges a bit longer before moving onto the goggle-inspection.

The sacral chakra, as Donnie had expected. Swadisthana, the orange chakra located in the lower belly. Connected to empathy and intimacy, pleasure both sensual and sexual. Creativity, fantasies, feelings. Everything that made up Michelangelo. An imbalance could lead to someone with boundary issues… yes, definitely Michelangelo, Donnie added to himself with a slight snort as he remembered just how clingy and touchy this world’s Michangelo’s was. At least his world’s always directed that touch-hunger to Raph or Leo and not to him.

A carving on the side of the weight caught Donnie’s attention and he spun it around to get a better view. The design was very faint, but it was there. It looked almost like a smiley face with closed eyes, something Donnie figured to have been added quite recently by Michelangelo. But further examination of it showed that the carving was old, as old as the weight itself, and installed by a previous owner. He even doubled and triple checked just to be sure he wasn’t seeing things.

Now all that was left to do was test it out. He had minor experience with chain weapons (the likes of which still haunted him to his day and made him give an uncomfortable shiver) and it wasn’t like he was actually going to fight with it! He was just going to test out the weight distribution and how effective it would be during fights since he had yet to see any of the other-world counterparts in battle.

He grabbed the handle securely, nodding at the nice distribution he was already feeling. He was just about to take a swing when he remembered the goggles still on his face and decided to take them off first, in case they somehow screwed with any of his data. He did so and turned to swing the kusari-fundo once more until something else this time stopped him in his tracks.

The glow didn't stop. He had taken off the mystic sensors and he tapped his head just to be sure! But the glow didn't stop. The smiling face was a much more prominent yellow against the orange, and Donnie was sure its eyes had been closed before…

The pupils in the eyes moved to stare at him and Donnie screamed and dropped the weapon in horror as he crawled back against the wall. The weapon pursued. On it’s own with no master or anything physical to command it. It drifted up and it’s living, flaming eyes followed Donnie’s every move. He made an experimental motion toward the door and the weapon made the same motion as it readied to pursue until Donnie returned to his original position.

The thud of approaching feet sealed Donnie’s fate in stone. Seconds later, seven mutant turtles poked their heads into the room, three of them armed and the other four looking confused and concerned by their lack of weapons.

“Donnie?” Leo tried to make a motion to approach his brother, but quickly withdrew out of the room when the kusari-fundo gave a warning spark. “The hell’s that thing?”

“Sparky!” Michelangelo ran into the room confidently with his arms extended, his brothers spilling in after him.

“Wait, no!”

Donnie awaited a terrifying assault that didn't happen. Instead, the fiery weapon subsided it’s flame and fell swiftly through the air to land in Michelangelo's arms. Michelangelo cuddled it closely and churred as he covered the tiny face in kisses.

Finally able to breath, Donnie went to part from the wall, but was stopped by a rough hand the size of his plastron.

The anger in Raphael’s eyes was uncanny. “You have a lot of explaining to do…”

#tmnt fic #rottmnt #Tmnt 2012 #fanfic #Tmnt #rottmnt donnie #rise raphael #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey

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13th-hour-reverie · 3 years ago

Text

So I wrote a DP fan-fiction when I was like 12

It will never see the light of day again-

BUT.

I had some weirdly fun ideas, as a kid?? And I’m not even sure if they’d translate to the teen/kid-audiences of today. (But I know there will be people here to appreciate it.)

I think it was all the 90s buzz around how, “TV and your computer screen will radioactively melt your brain,” or whatever. There was this massive campaign for scare-ads that went out, to keep parents from letting their teens use electronics.

The entire plot revolved around Vlad coming back to Earth (I said I had good ideas, not that I was clever) and wanting to take over the world through the use of...an army of mildly brainwashed teen-halfas that were bribed to do his bidding. He had to hide his identity, and lived underground or in the ‘net in some way. (Better than being left to wander the solar system?)

At the time, I think I knew that kids could be given the power to do whatever they wanted, and if threatened with losing that freedom, would work pretty hard to keep it. Not to mention...how much havoc a couple super-powered teens could actually wreak.

So...if you wanted to “offer” kids world-wide a fleeting taste of power, and then use that to bribe them into doing your bidding (in exchange for being given the power again)...how do you deliver “temporary” ghost-powers to the post-pubescent masses?

Simple.

You just use some weird bullshit ghost-virus to make their chunky 1990s/2000s home computer monitors to deliver a blast of ghost-radiation right into their faces! (Ecto-Acne style, but more refined. With powers reminiscent of what we saw in the hospital episode, when everyone caught the “ghost-flu?”)

Being true to the vibe of the late 90s and early 2000s, I think I had it where this ghost would crawl smaller Geocities circles and forums for “obvious” teenagers to spam. They’d send pop-ups directly to the kid’s computer, directly mirroring all the stuff we were told at the time (Don’t put out your personal information, ever! Never click pop-ups! Never download anything!) until a kid got curious enough to click on it.

The result was a beam of green ectoplasm-laced energy to the face, and a kid waking up with a new, bleached ‘do. I barely knew how radiation worked, but in my head, “ghost essence” or whatever had a pretty short half-life. (geddit??) The kid would be allowed to roam around freely for the first few days, their powers would begin to burn out, and then they’d be back to a normal kid after about a week or two.

To get their powers back, they had to start completing weird, but initially-benign looking tasks. Things like...show up at [x] time at [y] place, or deliver a benign package to a specific person. Eventually, once they proved “trustworthy,” they would get stronger and longer blasts of this ‘virus’ to keep their powers for steadily longer periods of time, until they were finally asked to do things that involved breaking the law.

Having this network of halfas was supposed to allow Vlad to make himself known to the public again. Nobody is going to trust him, but if a tenth of the teenagers in every tech-laden city in the world were under his direct control...he may have a shot at taking over the world. And in theory, these kids could be living anywhere. (A revolutionary concept, at the time.)

Needless to say, the main character was a self-insert. But after realizing the families of these ‘influenced’ teens would need to be kept busy, I started having them all collecting in one place under the guise of a mysterious “Summer Camp.” This particular family gets stuck in a storm, lo and behold, they end up in Amity Park, Guess Who, yadda yadda yadda.

The rest was meeting the canon cast, and a handful of kids trickling through town eventually realizing ‘The Kid Who Saved The World’ lived in town. And that, in order to actually stop what was going on, he was gonna need some equally super-powered help, that wasn’t dependent on following directions received via spam e-mail. Because I always thought it was really stupid, how small and under-powered his team felt.

Mind you, if anybody is SOMEHOW magically one of the few who found/read the original one I posted to FF.net way the fuck back when, you’ll probably notice I never actually got that far in what I’d written/posted. But it was the first story I ever re-wrote, did a story skeleton for, and actually tried to “plan out” with “proper writing techniques.” So little ever actually got written/posted.

I think the “moral” in my kid-brain was actually that, if given the choice, someone given PERMANENT ghost-powers would probably not be choosing to help some evil dude take over the world. But that so many people want to feel strong, or special, or do be able to do things that are ‘amazing’...power corrupts. Especially when your powers are dependent on a megalomaniac fruit loop. (Cuz like, c’mon. We all know he’d try again.)

Someone else has probably done this, and probably did it better, but I’ve so missed the DP canon. It didn’t even hit me how outdated some of these concepts were, until I went back through my (15+ year-) old writing. Yikes. If anybody wants to use it/write it better, have at. I’d be really curious to see how this would translate to the current generation of people Danny’s age, or how it would look re-written for 2020 post-Phantom-Planet canon. (Or however else you’d re-write it!)

My early contribution to Ectober, I guess. May participate with some art this year, if I’m able.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #technically doesn't break canon in any way #but BOY can you tell I grew up in the 90s

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

Text

Dark Antoni: The Job

In another universe, Antoni took out Mr. Davies - and set himself up as a talented, discreet hitman-for-hire. His latest assignment takes an unexpected turn. Features @comfy-whumpee‘s Jax Gallagher, used with permission.

CW: Intimate whumper, character death, severe trauma dissoci@tion, noncon touch, noncon kissing, implied noncon (interrupted), referenced noncon, long-term captivity, conditioned response

---

Antoni watches through the scope as the target's husband gives her a kiss, a faint smile, places the drink in her hand. Through his earpiece, he hears her voice, low and sultry, as their fingers brush. “Come sit with me.”

The husband moves like a man pulled by someone else’s invisible strings, sitting next to her on the chaise, letting her turn his head with the barest brush of fingers over his chin. She pulls him in for a kiss.

Antoni’s well-hidden, and not worried they'll see him, finger hovering over the trigger. They’re lined up perfectly like this. He could kill them both, one-two shot, drop the target before her husband’s body even hits the floor.

Something in the way the husband moves, though, stops him.

He bugged the house two days ago - or rather, he has the existing bugs feeding into his own earpiece now, the target’s own obsessive need for total control and security turned against her. The cameras are off, he took remote control of those and switched those screens to black.

He wonders if the husband knows about all the cameras, or if Savannah Marcoset had them placed without his knowledge. Maybe she’s worried about infidelity. Maybe she’s suspicious about assassination.

If she is, he hasn’t heard her say anything about it.

He's listened to them for two days while he planned the kill. Antoni has been privy to every gentle I love you, every moment they spend together, more than a few moments he would rather not have heard at all.

The husband is to all appearances utterly devoted, entirely in love, and…

Something isn't right.

He needs to pull the trigger and finish the job - his client specifically wants them both out of the picture. If she goes, he goes. They’ll be together, they’re never apart, but I can’t have any witnesses who can be questioned after the bitch is dead.

Too great a chance of retaliation by the family, and the client was sure the husband would be little more than a liability. Antoni doesn’t like liabilities, and he doesn’t leave witnesses.

Still… his instincts are screaming at him not to drop the husband, too.

He hesitates, equivocates, waits far too long as the woman downs her drink and lays back, laughing softly, pulling her husband down on the chaise with her. Her dress, a flimsy, filmy thing she wore to the gala they have just returned from, drapes just so against the velvet fabric of the chaise. Her husband’s suit is perfectly tailored, and she undoes his jacket buttons with one hand while they kiss, her other hand behind his neck, tangled in his brown hair.

She murmurs something even the bugs don’t pick up, and laughs. The husband smiles back, and drops his head, kissing along the column of her neck, pale and draped in heavy jewels that contrast with how thin her dress is. She hums, tightens her fingers against his nape, arches her back to press against him.

He makes a sound, an exhale with just a touch of voice, and an alarm goes off inside Antoni’s head, one that stubbornly refuses to explain itself.

Antoni can’t figure out what he’s missing here, crouched up at the railing of the stairs with his rifle still aimed, watching as she slides the jacket off her husband’s shoulders, nips playfully at his lips, his nose, his chin.

“I love you,” She whispers against his lips, and even from here Antoni can see his responding shiver.

“I love you, too.” His voice is low and soft, barely audible. The hand at his neck pushes his head down towards her chest, her other making quick work now of the buttons on his crisp white shirt. She rolls her hips up against his, her hair a waterfall of shimmering dark brown, nearly black, curls and waves. She looks like a Renaissance painting.

They look like a portrait of two people madly in love.

“Do you want me?” She asks, in a tone that says she already knows the answer, head tilted to watch him, hand slipping into the open front of his shirt to run down his stomach. He exhales loud enough for the bugs to pick it up and translate the sound into Antoni’s earpiece.

“Of course.” The husband’s accent is faded, but there - English, fits with what Antoni saw in the description of the assignments, his research files. “Of course I do, Savvie.”

Finger still hovering millimeters from the trigger, Antoni thinks over his files again.

Savannah Marcoset, queenpin of a human trafficking empire.

Run by her father's family until her paternal uncle's sudden death by car accident six years ago, shortly after Savannah married her longtime partner.

Savannah Marcoset, a violin prodigy that burned out young and faded away from the spotlight, reclusive until she took control of the family business, now a sparkling socialite. Married to one Jackson Marcoset, neé Gallagher, UK resident by birth. Unclear how they met or became romantically involved. Estranged from family.

Something is wrong about this picture.

“Of course I want you,” The husband says, in a low voice that could very nearly have passed for desirous. “I always want you.”

Antoni knows, all at once, exactly what his intuition is trying to tell him.

Jax Marcoset is just like Chris, and he has been like Chris for a very long time.

Antoni makes the decision in an instant, following his instincts where they lead him. When Savannah Marcoset hikes up the skirt on her dress and pushes her husband’s head down between her legs, Antoni aims and fires in a single silenced shot.

Savvie’s body jerks as the bullet goes right between her eyes.

The husband looks up, staring blankly, then scrambles back in belated panic as he sees the single small hole in her forehead, empty glazed eyes. “S-Savvie? Savvie, what-... what’s-”

“Hands in the air,” Antoni calls out, pitching his voice low and authoritative, standing slowly and keeping his rifle aimed just in case he’s called this wrong, in case the husband will attack him or try to call for help. “Move away from the body, Jackson Marcoset, now.”

The husband pushes slowly to his feet, hands up, standing in his suit pants and unbuttoned shirt. Antoni can hear his heavy breathing through the earpiece, echoed faintly even across the room into his other ear. He turns, very slowly, to look up at Antoni-

And the soft, supple black leather collar buckled tightly around his neck is suddenly visible, no longer hidden by the high neck of his shirt, the bow tie he’d been wearing when they came home.

I was right, Antoni thinks, a lick of violent triumph running up his spine. I was right, he’s like us, I was right.

He keeps the gun trained on Jax Marcoset, anyway, walking slowly towards him down the stairs, each foot placed carefully, one by one. Neither of them speaks, although Antoni catches Jax Marcoset looking over at the body of his late wife, hands fallen limp to the side now, skirt still hiked high up on her thighs. It’s indecent, really - Antoni tells himself to pull her dress back down before he leaves.

He tries to give the bodies a little dignity - after all, every death since the first one has been strictly business and nothing more.

He left so little of Mr. Davies.

He’s tried to improve on that, ever since.

“Are you going to be a problem?” He asks, keeping his voice level, his accent smoothing off his vowels, sharpening the consonants. He reaches the landing at the bottom of the grand staircase in the entryway, rifle aimed through a large open doorway into the sitting room where the chaise was, right at center mass. “If you are a problem, I will kill you. Do you understand?”

Jax Marcoset seems to struggle to speak, or operate on a delay. For a beat there is a weighty silence, and then he says, just barely audible, “I won’t… be a problem.”

Antoni can see scars that run down his stomach, like he was clawed until he bled, again and again, to make them. The collar, the way the husband isn’t looking back at his dead wife any longer, wholly focused on Antoni, shifting submissiveness trained by violence and fear immediately to the next threat, to appease, placate, and hopefully survive.

It’s all familiar, sickeningly so.

It’s the way Chris acted, when they met. Antoni’s assignment then had been to take out a household of drug runners. He’d found Chris in the alleyway bartering a place to sleep, trading his body because he had nothing else to offer them. Antoni had started firing just after hearing them agree to the trade, but only if Chris would take them all at once.

Once they were all dead, Chris - terrified and teary - had started trying to trade himself to Antoni just to keep from being slaughtered.

It’s all exactly the same, no matter the differences on the surface.

“I cannot leave you here alive. Do you understand?” He expects fear, or begging. Some kind of plea. But all Jax Marcoset does is slowly nod, hands still held in the air, and stay right where he is. He doesn’t ask to be spared, or for one more goodbye to the dead woman six feet away. He doesn’t beg, or go to his knees, or do anything at all.

He looks exhausted, emptied of all feeling, incapable of bringing anything up but resigned certainty. “Yes, sir.”

Too far gone, maybe.

But Antoni has to try.

“You may lower your hands.”

Jax’s hands drop like weights, down to his sides, where his fingers curl into fists. Antoni knows, from his own experience, that if he were to tell Jax to show him his palms, he would be obeyed, and there would be a row of half-moon scars there.

Just like Antoni has.

He lowers the rifle, slowly, ready to aim and fire again if Jax moves, but he doesn’t. Just stares dully at Antoni, waiting for whatever happens next, utterly incapable of making a choice for himself. Antoni moves over to Savannah Marcoset’s body, pressing two fingers to where her pulse would be and finding none. Not that he expected her to survive a direct shot to the head, but you never know.

He pulls a wipe from one pocket and wipes what might have been left of his fingerprints from her neck, then turns.

Jax Marcoset hasn’t moved a single muscle except to turn his head to watch Antoni’s movements around the room.

Antoni hums - job done, more or less, and no one needs to be the wiser that he’s left one of the targets alive - and turns to leave. He pauses, and gestures. “Come on, then,” He says, and Jax Marcoset falls in beside him, almost jerking into motion like a puppy trying to find someone new to hold his leash.

The night is dark and silent except for the crunching of Antoni’s shoes on gravel, and even that is barely a whisper of sound. Moonlight glints off the platinum wedding ring Jax Marcoset wears, off the matching lip ring and ear piercings. It briefly illuminates the buckle of the collar at the back of his neck, his eyes focused firmly on the ground in front of him, never looking up.

Antoni’s car is hidden, of course, and it takes them some time to walk there in silence. He keeps expecting Jax to ask a question, or cry, or do anything. But all Jax does is remain perfectly quiet, pliant, and empty.

He slips off his shirt willingly enough when they reach the car, lips thinned a little, and looks maybe mildly, just barely, surprised when Antoni hands him his spare shirt to put on instead. Their hands brush and Antoni feels the telltale roughness and scarring he expected.

Through it all, his intuition whispers, he’s like Chris, and he needs help.

Once they’re in the car, driving down a small two-lane highway, cutting through the late-night darkness, Antoni says quietly, “You are coming home with me. I cannot have you questioned, or have you speak to police. You will stay with me for now.”

“Yes, sir,” Jax mumbles, looking down at his hands, folded in his lap. He hasn’t tried to remove his collar or his ring, and Antoni knows how hard taking off your collar the first time can be for someone like them, and he doesn’t ask.

Instead, he offers, “Would you like to choose a station on the radio?”

There’s a long silence, Antoni aware he is being studied, Jax Marcoset watching him with utmost care, deciding what he will do or say. What he wants, Antoni thinks. Appease, placate, survive. It’s all the same, in the end. Even though he noticed Jax has no barcode when he changed shirts. If Jax is a pet, he isn’t a legal one and likely never was.

Jax slowly moves his hand, hesitating before he touches the dial as though he thinks his fingers will be slapped away. He changes the station, scanning until he reaches 90.1 FM.

Classical music drifts from the speakers, and Jax pulls his hand back quickly, folding them back in his lap, and closes his eyes.

“Will you miss her?” Antoni asks.

“Yes, sir.” His voice is barely audible, underscored and nearly overwhelmed by the sound of a single violin.

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dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years ago

Text

Cuddly Date Time

Alastor & Telly @usedhearts have a date night and completely ignore their movie and snacks because Alastor found a list of questions for partners to ask each other.

And so they ask each other a million questions.

It's very nice.

Telly

Date night! Telly had the Eggs set up the projector on the bridge, and pull in one of the chaise lounges. He had a bowl of popcorn, and mixings for drinks.

And he wore just a t-shirt. He was a comfy snake tonight.

Alastor

Date night! Never content with one snack where multiple would do, Alastor had spent the last couple of hours in the kitchen, putting together bacon-wrapped pineapple, stuffed mushroom caps, and a couple dozen crostini each topped with a random assortment of whatever looked fun in the fridge. He'd discovered he liked hand-feeding his partner, and by god was he *gonna.*

The longer he lived with Telly, the more obvious it was that he needed to get himself more casual clothes; but for now, he'd make do with a t-shirt (stolen from Telly's stock) and his bath robe to get comfortable. He swooped in with a tray of snacks, summoned up a side table to set it on, and slid his arms around Telly as he sat. "Why, hello there~"

Telly

Telly smiled, leaning into Alastor's side.

"Hello to you, too. Fancy seeing you here." He laughed and kissed Alastor.

"Are we ready to go?" He lifted the remote, to point backwards at the projector.

Alastor

He returned the kiss and settled into Telly's side. "Ready when you are!"

Telly

"Here we go!" He clicked the remote and the lights dimmed and the movie started. That done, he wrapped his arm around Alastor, turning to kiss his cheek.

"So, what culinary delights did you make for me to try this time?"

Alastor

Alastor hummed along to the opening notes of Music Man, then glanced over to his tray of food. "Mushrooms, bacon-wrapped pineapple—I thought you'd like a little tropical fruit—" smooch, "—and a veritable rainbow of crostini treats!" He'd sort of tried to stick them in rainbow order. He doesn't quite remember rainbow order. "We had some odds and ends of jams and cheeses and pickled things, so I got creative."

Telly

"Oh, sounds tasty! I will leave it up to the discretion of the chef which I try first." He smirked and winked.

His eyes flicked back to the screen for a moment, and he hummed.

Alastor

"Well, in that case..." He'd gotten the pineapple specifically for Telly, so he plucked that up to offer first.

Telly

Telly opened his mouth to accept the pineapple. He hummed as he chewed, and nodded. "Oh, that is delicious!"

Alastor

"Good!" Alastor was constantly amazed at how gratifying the little things were these days. Things like Telly's little hum.

He picked up a mushroom cap to offer next. "I'd forgotten how much I enjoy the first song! With all the train sounds." That said, he's already only paying about 40% attention to the movie. The movie is mainly an excuse to cuddle.

Telly

"Oh yes, it's quite ingenious!" Telly turned his head to glance at the screen before focusing back on Alastor. He took the next bite and his face scrunched a moment, before smoothing to contentment.

"Mm, interesting!"

Alastor

Huff! "Is that interesting good or interesting bad? I can take them if you don't like them."

Telly

"Interesting good! It just wasn't the flavor I was expecting them to be." He grinned and picked one up to offer Alastor. "But I _will_ share."

Alastor

"Why, *thank* you! Don't mind if I do." He took the bite then kissed Telly's thumb before he sat back to chew.

Telly

Telly followed as he sat back, pecking his cheek. "You looked so _indignant_ just then, it was adorable."

Alastor

"I did not," he said good-naturedly. "I happen to know for a fact I was smiling the whole time."

Telly

"Yes, you were! But I've started to identify your different smiles. That one was definitely indignant." He nodded for emphasis, even as he fought to keep his face in a mock serious mask.

Alastor

"Really!" He laughed, grinning wider. "Well, what's this one, then?"

Telly

"That's your 'I'm amused at my partner-in-crime's antics' smile." He giggled.

Alastor

"Close! But you missed the utter adoration."

Telly

"Oh yes, how could I miss that!" He laughed and leaned to kiss Alastor.

Alastor

He returned the kiss, then leaned in to nuzzle Telly's neck. "Say. It occurs to me that I'm not paying terribly close attention to the movie, and I can't help but notice you aren't either. If you don't mind paying a little less attention, I picked up a game that might be fun to play?"

Telly

"A game?" Telly tilted his head, smiling at the nuzzling. Sometimes it still sent a thrill down his spin that Alastor was here with him, like this, and he felt it now.

"What sort of game?"

Alastor

"Well, considering the topic we were just on..." He pulled out his phone with a flourish. (It was hard to flourish with a cell phone, but he was determined to make it work.) "Questions to get to know each other better! I don't think there are any about smiles, but it's a fine list nonetheless. Personally, I always love a good interview—and I know I still don't know half as much about you as I'd like to."

Telly

Telly blinked. "Oh! Well alright, that sounds fun."

He grinned and kissed Alastor again. "Alright, go for it. First question."

Alastor

"Okay! This list here has about two hundred questions and I narrowed them down to only the ones I want to know the most about you—so, naturally, I have over a hundred." He laughed and scrolled through the list. "Let's see, let's start with an easy one—Do you prefer living in the countryside, in a town, or in a big city, and why? I know you've moved around some, and it's hard to tell how an airship counts."

Telly

"Hmm," Telly said, stroking his chin as he pondered.

"I do enjoy city life, with all the people-- we as long as I can separate myself from the majority of them. But I adored my time in Dover when I was alive. The crashing of the sea as I worked was a great focus."

Alastor

"So away from all the city noise, down by the seashore?" He considered that. "We'd have to move a few rings to find a proper shore—how do you feel about prerecorded ocean sounds? I think I can swing that much!"

Telly

"I do like those, it's always fascinated me how they could replicate things like that."

Alastor

"So do I! Sound effects in general are an under-appreciated art! I've got a wide variety of things I listen to to fall asleep, and background sounds like that are high in the list!" His smile turned sheepish. "Or—used to be, anyway. Nowadays I usually listen to you instead."

Telly

Telly blinked. "Listen to me? My heartbeat?" He tilted his head.

Alastor

"And your breathing." He is, in fact, still capable of being a little self-conscious about his moments of sappiness.

Telly

Telly glanced away and for the million and first time he was glad he no longer blushed. "That is....very sweet and romantic, love."

Alastor

"Oh, is it!" He looked a *little* less sheepish. "Here I was worried it might be a bit too much."

Telly

"No, darling, the fact that you fall asleep to the sound of my heart and breathing is definitely not 'too much'." He smiled and leaned over to kiss him.

"Well, next question, yes?"

Alastor

"Well, when you put it *that* way, it sounds charming." He returned the kiss. "Next question!" He handed the phone over to Telly. "Your turn to pick one. Interview the hell outta me. I'm ready for my closeup."

Telly

Telly took the phone and inspected the list of questions, humming softly.

"Hmm, let's see..." He scrolled down. "How about this one. 'What is the most thrilling-slash- adrenaline seeking thing you would consider doing?'"

Alastor

"Oh! Well? Hm." A pause. "Is that counting things I've already done, or only things I haven't tried yet?"

Telly

"I think only things you haven't tried yet." Telly read over the question again. "Yes."

Alastor

"Oh, well then!" He tipped his head back while he thought. "You know, I've always thought skydiving sounded fun! But it's hard to find an instructor and pilot that I didn't think would get me splatted on the sidewalk because they were too terrified of me to do their jobs right." His eyes lit up. "Say, this thing doesn't get high enough for skydiving, does it?"

Telly

"I don't think so." He laughed, shaking his head. "But if you ever want me to toss you out to give you a briefer experience, let me know."

He paused, humming again. "Now I'm curious, though, what was the most thrilling thing you already did?"

Alastor

"I'll keep it in mind!"

He winced. "Oh, I talked myself into that one. And here I didn't even get to the question about relationship dealbreakers first. But, uh... hunting people for sport?" He laughed self-consciously. "I kept meaning to bring it up, but there's really no easy way to work that into a conversation."

Telly

"You did mention something about being out there to kill when you died. So, you hunted people?" Telly's tone stayed completely casual-- this was Hell and he'd been here a while, one got used to most things.

Alastor

He hadn't *thought* it was going to be a problem, considering what Telly was up to when he died, and considering everything Alastor got up to that Telly already knew about—but you never really knew how someone was going to react. And if Alastor knew anything about mass murderers, it was that depending on their motives or methods, they couldn't even get respect from other mass murderers. "People and deer, usually. But by the end, the deer were mainly a consolation prize and an excuse to get close to the real prey."

Telly

"I see." He stroked his chin. "How many do you think you killed? Did any get away that you know of?"

Alastor

"Oh, only two or three dozen tops," he said modestly. "I'd have to ask how many the infernal treasury credited me with, but even that number wouldn't be quite all of them. There's a few I shot and left that I never saw show up in the papers, so they might have got away, but none I know for sure. "

Telly

"Hm! Well, no wonder you wanted a hunter rifle for your present." He grinned and laughed. "Alright, next question for me."

Alastor

"That's it?" He raised his eyebrows, surprised. "You know, I always kind of thought that one would generate more discussion. Huh." He turned back to the list of questions to scroll through—and picked up another snack to feed Telly while he looked for a question. "Here's an intriguing one—what are you deliberately ignoring, even though you know you should deal with it?"

Telly

Telly took the offered snack with his mouth. He hummed, thinking as he chewed.

"I don't think that I'm deliberately ignoring anything right now?" He squinted, and his head tilted. "So, only unknowingly ignoring, then." He chuckled.

Alastor

"Well, tell me something you're unknowingly ignoring!" He said, like a little shit.

Telly

"Obviously, I don't know what those are, Alastor." He rolled his eyes.

Alastor

"No? You're positive?" He grinned impishly. "Well, all right! No skeletons in your closet, I suppose!" He passed the phone back. "But next time I'll get something interesting out of you."

Telly

"Yes, yes, next time." He took the phone back and scrolled through again. "Hmm, how about this: What calms you down the most?"

Alastor

"Oh." A long pause. And then a tiny wince and a mumble, "Do you know what ASMR is?" It's worth noting that he's more self-conscious over this than the serial killing.

Telly

"Vaguely. But tell me more about it." He leaned in, grinning malevolently.

Alastor

Ahem. "*Well.* When I was alive, and we were all still trying to figure out what to *put* on the radio, some of the earliest programs were, just... musical programs with sort of a vague plot narrated between them. And when I say 'vague,' I mean 'today John Doe is driving into town, let's play a bunch of songs about farms and meadows and bridges because that's what he's driving past.' And I appreciated those plotless little shows. But they weren't too popular—people wanted more stories in their stories, so they went away." He was going somewhere with this, really. "And then a little after I died, shows really started pushing the envelope with what they could do with the *sound* on radio, you know, with sound effects and the like, getting really experimental with it. And I tell you, I ate that up! I probably spent most of the forties with headphones practically glued to my head—and this was before they started offering the high-quality headphones for sinners that don't have their ears on the sides of their heads! And uh, that—that's more or less what ASMR is. Like those early shows with nearly-plotless plots, with the music taken out and copious sound effects to support the plot instead. That's... that covers most of the appeal." He did NOT make eye contact and he WAS embarrassed.

Telly

Telly blinked. Well. He hadn't realized that was such an in depth topic. He sat quiet as he processed a moment and then nodded.

"So you like it because it feels familiar?"

Alastor

"Not exactly, no—more because it... has those things I already liked." Mumble, "And it makes my ears tingle." Mumble mumble, "And sometimes it's nice to pretend I can get a haircut from somebody who isn't afraid to look me in the eyes."

Telly

Telly smirked, leaning against him. "Well, sometime you'll have to show me one."

Alastor

"Really?" His brow wrinkled. "Well—alright. But fair warning, I've probably oversold how interesting it is. I mean—the people who are interested in it find it interesting, but..."

Telly

"I at least would want to hear it once, just because you like it so much." He kissed Alastor's cheek.

Alastor

"Oh... sure, then. I'll see what I can find for you." He returned the smooch. "I'll try to avoid the more esoteric ones."

Telly

"Yes please, darling." He purred. "Next question?"

Alastor

"You know... I think I want to ask you one that you asked me." He grinned. "What's the most thrill-seeking thing *you'd* do?"

Telly

"Thrill-seeking...." He pondered that for a moment, finger tapping his chin again.

"Probably seems typical for me, but I think it would be a great thrill to finally attack Vox."

Alastor

"Hah! Put *that* one at the top of the list! Oh, I hope that by the time we go for him, he's so outmatched that he's *boring*."

Telly

"Yes, we can hope!" He laughed, grinning wider.

Alastor

He tugged Telly in to plant a firm kiss on his cheek. "I just love when we're on the same page."

Telly

Telly purred, turning to kiss Alastor's lips. "I love _you_," he muttered, wrapping his arms around him.

Alastor

"I love you, too." It's something he still has to practice saying without his breath shuddering; sometimes there's still a little static hitch. But it's coming more easily.

Telly

There was still a thrill that went through him, hearing Alastor say it back-- a thrill that made him beam and kiss him all the more. He sighed happily against his lips, cuddling close.

Alastor

He slid an arm around Telly's waist, holding him closer, humming along to the love song in the movie as he kissed Telly.

Telly

Telly let the kiss keep going for a while, before pulling back, a grin on his face. "I also love kissing you."

Alastor

"I think I've developed a taste for it myself." Understatement.

Telly

He laughed. "Yes, it seems you have." He leaned in for another kiss.

Alastor

He wasn't about to get any complaints from Alastor. Just a hungry return kiss.

Telly

Telly pushed closer, arms and tail coiling tightly around him. He pulled back after a time, and giggled.

"Oh, look at us, making out during a picture show like teenagers!"

Alastor

"Ha! I never made out at the picture shows as a teenager!" He paused thoughtfully, then added, "And as a teenager *you* never went to a picture show. But what's time to the dead?" He laughed. "I wouldn't have enjoyed it then, anyway."

Telly

"We simply must get the teenage experiences we never had! Even if they are ones that we wouldn't have had otherwise!" He laughed, kissing over Alastor's face.

Alastor

He laughed as he was smothered in kisses. "I didn't *want* that teenage experience! Do you know, *do you know* how *hard* it is to ask a gal you're friends with if she'd like to see a show with you, and then actually *see the show*? There I am, early twenties, with some dame desperate to introduce me to her lips, trying to watch Mister Buster Keaton, and—and..." His laughter momentarily overtook his ability to speak. "I should've taken a cobra to the movies. Do you think they'd have let me? Just escorted one on a day trip from the Bronx Zoo?"

Telly

"No, I don't think so. A python, maybe." He grinned and laughed, nuzzling close to Alastor. "But just think, you can take _this_ cobra to a picture show!"

Alastor

"I certainly can! And you're a better conversational partner!" He pulled Telly deeper into the nuzzle. "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather ignore a movie with."

Telly

Telly grinned wider, chuckling against Alastor's neck. "Mm, I think we lost track of the questions sometime around the second kiss, but I certainly don't mind, do you?"

Alastor

"No, not terribly." He kissed Telly near start of his hood. "Although I'd like to loop back around to that sooner or later. There's *so much* I want to ask you, and I feel like we never get to talk enough."

Telly

"Hmm," Telly hummed, sitting up, but taking Alastor with him. He situated him on his lap and grinned. "How about one asks a question and the other has to answer whilst being kissed?"

Alastor

"Ooh. You know, that *does* have its appeal." He straddled Telly's tail, looped his arms over Telly's shoulders, and pressed their foreheads together. "*However...* not to be the cliché libidoless talk show host we all know I am, but—I really do want to *talk* with you. Without the conversation playing second-string to a distraction." He offered a crooked, uncertain smile. "If that doesn't sound too boring for you? I don't want to hold you hostage in a conversation you've lost interest in, mind."

He was still hesitant, still self-conscious whenever what Telly was looking for physically was less than what Alastor was currently looking for. It was easy enough to say "no" when he was flat-out uncomfortable with an activity; he could even let himself think that he was giving Telly an opportunity to be gallant by graciously reigning in his own desires for Alastor's comfort. He felt less sure of saying "no" when he was simply not terribly excited by the idea at the moment. He felt like he was the one giving up the opportunity to be gallant. It was a new quandary for him, and he didn't enjoy his own uncertainty.

But thus far honesty had never steered him wrong with Telly, so he'd tell the truth first and figure out the rest later.

Telly

Telly purred as their foreheads pressed together, and then gave Alastor a squeeze. "Of course. We can just talk. As long as you don't mind if I simply _must_ occasionally interrupt you because the urge to give you a kiss is _unbearable_."

He leaned back to dramatically press the back of his hand to his forehead, before cracking open an eye and grinning. He readjusted himself to be snuggled back in close.

"I forget whose turn it is, so why don't you start us off again."

Alastor

Alastor's grin widened again, as much with relief as amusement. "Far be it from I to deny you if you're in such desperate need! Why, I might need one or two myself." And just to prove it, he planted a quick peck on Telly's forehead. "*I* kept track. We got off-topic because you said you wanted to take down ol' blockhead and I thought it was the most beautiful thing you said today. So it's your turn to ask one."

Telly

"Oh, alright." He looked around, finding the phone from where it had fallen in their kissing frenzy. He scrolled through it before making a face briefly.

"You know, there's something I've wanted to ask that's not on this list, and what better time than now?" Telly smiled, albeit sheepishly, turning to glance away as he worked up the nerve to ask his question.

"So, to preface this, I know when it comes to bedroom things, there are things you definitely do not want to do, one being me touching you in the--" He gestured vaguely to Alastor's crotch. "But I was wondering, what's your opinion on.....blow jobs?" He muttered the last word, looking away even harder.

Alastor

"Really? 'How do you feel about blow jobs,' they left that one off the list?" He squinted in exaggerated puzzlement at the phone. "How did they miss *that* one?" He tutted chidingly, then turned to Telly. "Giving or receiving? Or both? Or just as a general cultural phenomenon?"

Telly

"Well, I assumed that since you don't want me doing anything--" He gestured again to Alastor's crotch. "-- _down there_, that it would be giving."

~~He is still not making eye contact. He is not Looking.~~

Alastor

"Well... actually, I've been thinking about it." A dramatic pause. "And I'm still thinking about it."

Okay, now that he'd got the instinct to be a troll out of his system: "Here's the thing. Most available options, I've got clear opinions on and I don't have to wonder about them. Hand jobs? Sure, I've been giving them to myself for over a century, no problem with that. Anal? God hung a sign over that door that says 'exit only,' and while I'm perfectly happy to ignore that sign to sneak into a theater or a gourmet kitchen, I don't feel compelled to break into the back door of my sewage facility. And so on! But blow jobs, though?" He shrugged expansively, clueless.

"It's always looked disgusting, but that was when I was considering the prospect of all that hair and sweat and the crust of poor hygiene. None of that's a factor here. On the other hand, I generally don't stick things in my mouth I don't intend to chew and swallow—see, that sign on one end marked 'exit only' is accompanied by one on the other side that reads 'entrance only.' Kissing is fine, licking and nipping are fine, but the idea of sticking something in there and... *holding* it? Sliding it back and forth? It's..." He trailed off. "Well—neither good nor bad. Just... alien. I can't really imagine how it'd go."

He took a deep breath. "And of course, the fastest way to find out would be to go 'Well, whip 'em out, let me slobber on them and see how I like it!' But: I don't want to offer that if I don't already *know.* I don't want to get your hopes up just to find out in under ten seconds that I hate it and I'm never doing it again."

Telly

Telly listened, giving a small chuckle at Alastor's analogies. He pondered for a moment, his hand moving up to stroke at his chin. "Well, the thing is, how _will_ we know unless we try? That's a thing in science: you form a hypothesis and then conduct experiments to see if you're correct. You know that if something doesn't work out, or you _don't_ end up liking it or wanting to do it again, that's fine, yes? I'd rather us try and fail, than never try at all for only fearing the failure.

"Now, I'm not saying we jump right in and try it out right this very minute, but sometime in the future, why not give it a shot? The worst case is you don't like it, and then we know and we don't have to wonder anymore. Best case? We have another position we're both comfortable with.

"And stemming from that, if you don't like the idea of sticking the whole thing in, then there's always just licking-- or even eating me out, my slit where they're usually stored _is_, ah, capable of experiencing that as well. There's variations we could test. And if you don't like them either, no harm, no foul." He shrugged, one hand going to cup Alastor's cheek.

Alastor

"Don't scientists also do research first? To base their hypothesis on what they already know? I'm confident I could do more research." He leaned into Telly's touch, eyes sliding shut. "I'm... not ready yet." Which was embarrassing as all hell for him to admit—him, *Alastor* the *Radio Demon*, not ready for something. "I want to know that at least I haven't overlooked something obvious just because I rushed it. I—" he winced, "I don't consider myself a nervous person—but the thing is I don't want to be the least bit nervous while I've got a very delicate piece of equipment between my teeth."

Telly

"And that's fine, too. Like I said, we don't need to jump into it _right now_, or anything. We can wait until you're ready to try." He smiled and leaned in to give him a kiss.

"Alright, I think it's your turn now."

Alastor

Kiss! "All right, what have we got here..." They were down in the relationship and sex questions. He scrolled a bit, barked out a "HA," gave Telly a shit-eating grin, and read, "How well do you think our sex drives match up?"

Telly

Telly blinked at the question-- before breaking into a fit of cackling. His head tossed back, his laugh was loud and echoed in the cavernous bridge.

Alastor

Alastor cackled along with him, so loud his voice took on a note of distortion as if blasting from an overburdened speaker, and he flopped off of Telly's tail and onto his side. "Pff—perfectly synchronized," he wheezed, "right?"

Telly

Telly wheezed as well, trying to get out his reply. "Oh yes, perfectly!" He flopped back, giggling manically.

Alastor

He tugged Telly down to pull him into a hug, even as he laughed. The fact that they could laugh about it was good. Even if they weren't in sync, at least they weren't in conflict. That was what mattered.

"Ahh... I'll find a real one, give me a second."

Telly

Telly's chuckles tapered off as he settled against Alastor, purring. "You're hilarious, you know that, right?"

Alastor

"*Thank* you!" Now here was a smile that could light up a room. "I know it, but I like to know you know it too." He scrolled through the list, looking for one of the more serious questions he'd wanted to ask. "What are some of your relationship goals?" He paused. "Besides blow jobs."

Telly

"Relationship goals?" He tilted his head, a confused frown on his face. "I'm...not sure? Does a relationship need _goals_? I'm happy to be with you, no matter what."

He considered for another moment. "I suppose...us being happy is a goal? Can that be a goal?"

Alastor

"Sure! It can be a goal! The most important one, I think!" He propped himself up so he could look at Telly more directly. "You're not planning all this too far ahead, are you? Besides our next raid or two and the next thing to build and a list of enemies for us to topple?"

Telly

His face scrunched briefly. "No, not too far in advance. That's where I got into....complications before, when it was all planning, no _doing_. I thought a different approach would work better this time around-- but that's about conquering, and not about _us_. Sure, my goals for Hell are important, but as long as you're by my side, I feel like....that part will go much more smoothly."

Alastor

His smile warmed at Telly's faith in him. "I think relationship goals and conquering goals overlap. Like, say, what if your goal was to conquer and rule Hell with me, but my secret little goal for us was to find a way we could permanently sneak out of Hell and live in the mortal realm? I *don't*, but just for example. Both those would affect which direction our relationship goes—so I think they'd count as relationship goals. And we'd be in trouble if we both assumed we'd get ours without talking to the other."

Telly

"That is true, I just thought that the question was more specifically about goals for our relationship by itself. But you're right! Life-- or rather, Death Goals also affect relationships!" He chuckled.

Alastor

"It could be." He looked at the question and shrugged. "Whatever gives us a more interesting answer, I think! So! I'll amend it: have any relationship goals or goal that'll affect our relationship?"

Telly

"Well, in that case, I have the goal of conquering Hell with you by my side!" He laughed, winking at Alastor.

Alastor

"You know, that's on my list, too!" He laughed as well. "Just the two for now, then? Keep it nice and simple?"

Telly

"Yes, for now!" He shrugged, taking the phone back to scroll through questions.

He hummed as he looked and then grinned wickedly. "Alright, here's one I like: 'What are some things you really like about me?'"

Alastor

"Oh! How much time do you have!" He laughed. "Where to start? I like that evil smile of yours!" He pecked Telly's lips. "I like how you embrace what got you damned, instead of either denying it or moping about it. I like your organ playing—and your dancing—and the way you move. I like how you can think up some insane contraption, go, 'let there be a freeze ray!' and behold, within a day there is. I like how when I look at all you can make, I really do believe that you're the one human who could beat gods and demons not by borrowing their tricks but just by being human. I like how much you enjoy my cooking. I like how you hum when you work. I like how passionate you are about your inventions. I like your taste in interior design. I like your laugh. I like watching you swim. Should I keep going?"

Telly

As Alastor spoke, Telly curled around him, his purr starting up. He coiled tighter and grinned wider, until he was beaming and his face looked near to breaking. He squirmed briefly and laughed.

"Heh! Is that all? Is there more? Please DO feed my ego!!"

Alastor

"Oh, fine, fine! I also like how megalomania looks on you when your ego's been fed! And that menacing rumble you get, low in your chest. And the way your body feels." He ran a hand down along Telly's tail. "And the color of your eyes. *And* your scales. And the fact that you're theatrical enough to keep up with me. And the way you'll dress up to go somewhere fun with me. And when I'm going a hundred miles an hour, you don't ask me to slow down, but go a hundred and five. And you enjoy torturing a prisoner or seeing a musical or burgling a mall all just the same. And you have terrific taste in weapons. And your idea of a good date is having a picnic over the grave of the man who mistreated you. And you've never been horrified by me, even when you damn well should be. And you have a sadistic streak that borders on a form of art. And you make my dead heart start again when you sing. And you can play string duets like it's nothing. And you mix your own fragrances."

Telly

Telly couldn't help the overly pleased look that grew on his face. He purred and pressed his face into Alastor's shoulder. "If I could blush, I'd be bright as a traffic light." He kept grinning against Alastor.

"Love you, dear..."

Alastor

"Love you, *mon roi.*" A smooch to the side of his head.

Telly

Telly nuzzled and then looked up to kiss Alastor's lips.

Alastor

He returned the kiss, broke it long enough to say, "—and your teeth—" and went back in.

Telly

That little addition earned him a nip, and a grin against his lips.

Alastor

He nipped Telly back, chest trembling with silent laughter. Maybe he should start keeping a list. Make sure he remembered to tell Telly about every item on it at least once.

Telly

He laughed, too, giving another nip. He squeezed Alastor with tail and arms.

"One of these days, I'm going to make you blush like you make me."

Alastor

"I thought you said you couldn't blush." Alastor winked. "I'll look forward to that day! I'd better be red as a tomato!"

Telly

"You may not see it on my face, but you _know_ when you do, Alastor!" He chided playfully.

Alastor

"I might," he said innocently. "Tell me—was all that the answer you wanted to hear? I didn't leave out anything important, did I? There's just so much to try to remember!"

Telly

"Mm, no, I think you covered your bases pretty well," He said with a grin.

Alastor

"Good!" He beamed brilliantly. "I want to make sure you're feeling properly appreciated, after all!"

Telly

"You do, you do." He laughed, handing back the phone as he cuddled closer. "I think it was your turn now."

Alastor

"I think you're right!" He scrolled slowly through the list. "We just did a couple of relationship questions... So! What are some of your earliest memories?"

Telly

"Hmmm..." He sat back, taking Alastor's free hand with him as he pondered.

"I suppose it would be my mother overseeing the governess dressing me for some function when I was very young."

Alastor

"The governess! I don't think you've ever mentioned her." Although it made sense that a noble family had a house full of help, didn't it? "What was she like? Was she the one who taught you?"

Telly

"We had a number of them over the years-- never kept one too long, Father always said they got 'overly familiar' after a while." He shrugged.

Alastor

He had to take a moment to process that. "Is that code for 'he fired anyone who started to express concern for his children's well-being,' or 'he was sleeping with the help and fired them whenever he got caught'?"

Telly

"The former. There was one governess who was especially concerned about me, when I was, oh, six or seven, I believe? She went to my mother to speak with her about something regarding me, and the next day she was gone."

Telly snorted. "It's like they expected these women whom they hired to raise and teach their children to do so without becoming emotionally invested in said children."

Alastor

"Well, *they've* got no trouble regarding their children like vessels for their legacy instead of people, why is it so hard for someone they hired to do the same?" He shook his head. "You were already worrying people at six? What kind of trouble were you in?" He hoped it was the "already making dangerous inventions" variety rather than the "unusually miserable for a six-year-old" variety, but he wasn't getting his hopes up.

Telly

"I was either very quiet or very loud, I couldn't pay attention or I focused too hard on things, etcetera." He shrugged again. "The normal 'this child is not a neurotypical child' thing."

Alastor

"*There's* a five dollar word! You too?" Alastor laughed ruefully. "Funny thing, all my teachers said the same thing. Except *they* didn't get emotionally invested." He grimaced. "But then I wasn't a noble boy—I was just somebody's bastard."

Telly

"What, did you think the compulsion to create great machines of awe and destruction and take over the world came from the mind of someone who _wasn't_ afflicted with many neurodivergencies?" He chuckled.

"But yes, a few of them were worried, and a couple more tried the 'beat it out of him' method of fixing it."

Alastor

"There's a *six* dollar word. Does it include shocking inspiration and genius beyond any other human's capacity? Because I suspected that part."

Alastor sneered, his lip curling up to expose his teeth, as if contemplating sinking them into the throats of whichever governesses had dared pull such a stunt. "I'm familiar with *that* method." He shifted to kiss Telly's forehead. "I doubt it worked any better on you than it did on me."

Telly

"Yes, I believe so! It didn't work at all for me." He chuckled. "There were some better than others-- I really hated the one that used a switch." He shuddered.

Alastor

"Yard stick," Alastor said mournfully. "I think my mother would have murdered anyone who took a switch to me, but I wasn't friends with that yard stick."

Telly

"They would smack me when I focused too hard, and then when I couldn't focus at all-- it would send quite the mixed signals." He shook his head, and leaned in to kiss his forehead in return.

Alastor

A bitter laugh. "And for some reason they think the constant looming threat of punishment *helps* you focus!" Alastor shut his eyes to bask in the kiss.

"I don't suppose you've ever talked to a doctor about that, have you? I talked to one a couple of decades ago that said these days they think poor focus is a medical thing. They make drugs for that now."

Telly

"I haven't talked to any doctors, no, but I've done plenty of research on my own! After all, I like to think I'm smarter than most doctors who would end up in Hell!" He laughed.

"I've figured out that I likely had ADHD and a random assortment of co-morbid disorders, such as anxiety, depression, possibly mild OCD, and anger issues!" He seemed proud of that-- the fact he'd been able to suss all that out.

Alastor

His eyes lit up. "Oh! You too!" A pause. "The ADHD part, I mean." Says the man with depression oozing out of every pore. "Why, I should have guessed! Look at us, two peas in a pod!" He'd never thought discovering he has the same extremely specific mental condition as someone else would ever be something so *delightful*, but here he was. "Do you *want* drugs for that? I know a reliable adderall dealer."

Telly

"I've tried a few, they don't work right for me-- or at least, I don't like how they work for me." He shrugged again, and then smiled.

"I had an inkling that we might share that, though!"

Alastor

"I can't say I'm *surprised.* I should have suspected it when I learned how often you skipped meals to keep working." He tilted his head. "I've got a recipe for a focus potion I could teach you? All natural except for the ritalin, but we can leave that ingredient out if you don't like how it affects you." The ritalin may, in fact, have been the part that made the focus potion work. (When he said "all natural" that description was including the cocaine.)

Telly

"We could try it-- but mostly, I've found ways to manage without, mostly. I'd be game for trying, though." He smiled. "Is the focus potion what you use to keep yours in check?"

Alastor

"It helps! Potions, drugs—and I've been told *coffee* helps too, although I never would have made the connection myself." He shrugged. "I was about a hundred when I got a diagnosis, I'm sure by now all my tricks to 'keep it in check' are so intrinsic to my life I'll never realize that's what I'm using them for! What about you, what are your 'ways to manage' it?"

Telly

"Mostly using the Eggs to help me remember to do essential things, but otherwise letting my focus run its course. Of course, that doesn't always work, as you know."

Alastor

"Oh! Yes, of course—I delegate all my 'essential things' to my little shadow helpers. I don't have to remember to do it if someone else is doing it."

Telly

"Exactly! It's one reason I made the Eggs in the first place!" He laughed.

Alastor

"Someday, I hope you'll teach me *how* you made them, because I'm just dying to know." He had a hard time believing magic hadn't been involved.

Telly

"It was a little of this and that, and some other things." He shrugged.

Alastor

"Uh-*huh.*" A smirk. "All right. Keep your secrets. I'll dig them out some other night."

Telly

"Yes, some other night." He grinned back.

"My turn now, though." Telly took the phone back and scrolled through. "Hmmm, 'What habits do you still have from childhood?'"

Alastor

"Huh..." He thought a moment. "This is a cheat, since we were talking about it earlier, but I can't fall asleep without listening to something. First my mother singing to me, then a record player, then radio. And now you." He gave Telly a crooked grin. "But that's not fair, you could have guessed that one! Uh... crunching leaves, splashing puddles... singing and dancing at people who didn't ask for it... counting on my fingers... humming... reading on the toilet..."

Telly

"All of those are very cute, save for the toilet one." He chuckled, giving Alastor a squeeze. "Did the seasons change enough in Louisiana for crunching leaves, though?"

Alastor

"Sure! Not as spectacularly as you get up north, maybe, and we've got some stubborn trees that don't have the sense to drop their leaves in the winter—but they change! Usually, oh..." He closed his eyes, trying to remember. "Sometimes by Halloween—every year I'd hope they would—but not always. Usually by December, though. Brown leaves all over the sidewalks." He opened his eyes again. "I'd see prettier foliage on hunting trips from time to time, especially in parishes farther north. The trees were bare where I died, I remember that."

Telly

Telly listened, his mind running ahead a mile a minute. "Is red your favorite color?"

Alastor

"I don't make it *too* obvious, do I?" He laughed.

Telly

"Was it always your favorite? Or did that change over time?"

Alastor

He thought. "It's almost always been red! Crimson, particularly. But ruby too. Green was my favorite for a bit in my twenties, and I have phases where I just can't get enough of yellow and gold, but I always come back to red." He beamed at Telly, "Guess why I like yellow."

Telly

Telly laughed and flared one side of his hood, grinning. "I think I know why. But that's interesting! Red and yellow are both fall sorts of colors, but green! That's different. Green is more spring!"

He paused and shrugged. "I don't know what it means, but it's interesting!"

Alastor

"It makes me think of summer, actually! Not pale fresh greens but those rich, warm greens." Shapes in lights appeared above him, aimless spirals as he tried to wrestle their hue away from his magic's typical red and into the greens he was thinking of; after a few attempts, he managed several spirals in shades of emerald and basil and moss and olive and hunter green.

Telly

"Ah, yes, I do like those greens! You know what those shades of green go well with?" He flared his hood again, grinning. "Gold! I've always been fond of that combination, green and gold, and along similar lines, blue and silver-- they're pairs that are rarely made because one sees more red and gold than green and gold. Blue and silver is a more common occurrence, though, but still rarer than using red, I think."

Alastor

He summoned up the swirls of color again, letting them hover around Telly's face in front of his hood. "You're right! Have I ever seen you in green? I think your Mardi Gras dress had some green, didn't it, but that was more of a blue-green. I'd like to see a real vivid green on you." He reached up to lightly, almost absentmindedly run a finger along the edge of Telly's hood. "What are your favorite colors overall? I'm guessing gold's right up there."

Telly

"Yes, that was more of a pale teal than a true green-- a sea green, as the theme would have it." He chuckled, head tilting, one half of his hood folding back to allow the motion.

"Gold, black, blue, green-- I became fond of the particular shade of pink that my eyes are after death, but before then, I stuck to deep saturated and rather dark colors."

Alastor

"You know, *I'm* fond of that particular shade of pink, too!" And then he had to look at the color to remind himself of why he liked it, and then he was just staring into Telly's eyes. Wow. He had pretty eyes. What were they talking about?

Telly

With Alastor staring into his eyes, he couldn't help but stare back at Alastor's, and he found himself saying, "You know, I think I've become rather fond of brilliant true red, as well...."

Alastor

"Yeah?" Eloquent. It took him a second to remember the topic. "I should hope so, considering I'm filling half your rooms with red these days." He slid his arms around Telly's shoulders. "We should have a green room..." Aaand pulled him down into a kiss. He distracted himself with all that deep eye contact.

Telly

He was more than happy to be distracted by kisses, the eye contact got to him, too. He squeezed Alastor, nipping his lips.

Alastor

He nipped back, eyes sliding shut, melting into the constrictive embrace. Who needs Heaven when he can get this in Hell.

Telly

Telly lingered in the kiss, lazy and slow, before he pulled back. "Mm, it's fascinating how many different ways one can find to kiss someone."

Alastor

"Isn't it?" His eyes opened a slit, and for a moment he eyed Telly's lips contemplatively. It would be very easy to just keep going... But they'd have time enough for that later, and his desire to keep talking to Telly was stronger. (When wasn't it?) "That time, I think I really did lose track of whose turn it is."

Telly

"I believe it's yours. I was the one who started us off on a tangent after you answered one." He smiled, nuzzling against Alastor's cheek, pressing little kisses along his jaw.

Alastor

"Right! Uh—" Oh he's distracted again. He tried to focus on his phone over Telly's shoulder. "What—what's something we could do to bring us closer together as a couple?" A pause. "Besides blow jobs."

Telly

Telly paused as well, face nuzzled against Alastor's, lips still there against his skin as he spoke. "Mm, I think what we're doing right now? Just...talking about things, enjoying being with one another. Maybe a few more couple bonding murders..." He laughed.

Alastor

"Ooh, more murders. I like the sound of that." He nuzzled Telly back. "What else? Something we're not already doing. I—feel like we've only just begun and there's room for us to do so much more."

Telly

"Honestly? I'm not sure! I may have more experience than you, but only by a fraction," He said, humming against Alastor's skin.

Alastor

That hum traveled down Alastor's neck and up the side of us head. His brain is jelly. "Well—think on it and let me know, would you? I want to do more for you. And with you."

Telly

"I will," He said, chuckling. "My turn?" He hummed again. "Alright, how about the same question: is there something you can think of that would bring us closer as a couple?"

Alastor

"Hell. You already took murder, what does that leave me with?" He laughed, then trailed off thoughtfully.

After a moment, he said, "I'd like if you asked me more questions about me. I know that's what we're doing now, but—in general. When I ask you about your beliefs, ask about mine. When I tell you I hunted humans for sport—ask why I did something crazy like that. If—if you want to know, I mean." Implicit: *you do, don't you?*

"I know we both know I never shut up, so I could just *tell* you, but... I prefer to be asked. I like to know you want... more of me than just my surface level. I'm still an entertainer, you know—I react to what my audience shows interest in."

Telly

Telly listened, lifting his head as he tilted it in thought. "Okay. I think I can do that. Generally, I don't....ask more because I don't want to pry."

He winced, looking away. "Another bad habit George instilled in me, I think."

Alastor

Alastor laughed in disbelief, "You mean he wasn't taking every opportunity to talk about himself? Color me surprised!" But then he'd probably just wanted Telly to be quiet. *Shut up and look at the stars.*

"Well, unlike *George*"—he said the name like an insult—"I *want* to know you, and I want *you* to know *me.* So if you wonder, you can ask. And I'll let you know if you ask something I can't talk about."

Telly

Telly smiled, softly and shyly at first and then with more confidence. "Okay. I will."

He let out a breath. "Did you ever tell me how you got started in radio?"

Alastor

Alastor beamed. "I don't think I did! It was in '24! I'd realized that New York didn't have what I was looking for, and I was looking for an excuse to go back to New Orleans, when my mother mentioned in a letter that a new station was going up and they were looking for somebody with a cultured accent to announce the evening orchestras. Well, I knew my way around a hobby radio kit, so I paid to make a long-distance call to the station manager, read off the first paragraph of a musical review in my best Broadway stage voice, and asked him, 'How about that, is that the voice you're looking for?' He hired me sight unseen!" He laughed. "I told myself it would be a fine part-time job until I could get in with a jazz band or a vaudeville troupe, something like that, but... I think part of me knew even then."

Telly

Telly smiled brightly. "Sounds like destiny to me. Now, when did you start killing? It was after going back to New Orleans, correct?"

Alastor

"When I started killing seriously, yes. I'd committed one murder before then, and..." A thoughtful squint. "Well, I *might* have got some Germans, but I don't know for sure. They don't exactly call you from across no man's land to congratulate you on your shot."

Telly

Telly's head tilted again, curiosity piqued.

"Who was your first? Kill, that is."

Alastor

"My racist grandfather who taught me the word 'bastard' when my father wasn't listening." He smiled grimly. "'Hunting accident.' *Very* tragic."

He nodded at Telly, "Who was *yours*? Was your attack on London the first time, or did you get a taste for it before then?"

Telly

"First that was fully intentional? My...business partner. He wanted to pull the funding for my work. I killed him and wrote letters to keep the money flowing."

Alastor

"Your *business partner*? You had a business partner? Who was *he*?" Alastor paused. "No, wait—'fully intentional'?" He paused again. "No no wait, tell me about the business partner first!"

Telly

Telly's face scrunched, and then flattened, and then scrunched again, as if he was trying to decide if what he was about to say was terrible, hilarious, embarrassing, or all three.

"He was Olivia's father. He saw potential in me, which is why he agreed to the engagement in the first place."

Alastor

His eyebrows went up. "Her *father.* Your—your friend's father! George's father-in-law. Him. Were you writing letters as him to *them*?"

Telly

Telly nodded, and let out a manic sort of laugh. "Yes! I made assurances everything was fine, that he was staying in Dover for a time as the sea air did him good, that sort of thing. Never suspected a thing."

Alastor

He blinked, an amazed smile on his face. "To your *own friend.* Oh, that's *cold.*" He laughed, pulling Telly into a quick kiss. "Did they ever find out anything had happened before you died?"

Telly

"To be honest, I wasn't thinking about her when I did....any of it. But no, she never knew until after my death."

Alastor

"She must have had a miserable time after you died, poor thing." He shook his head sympathetically—not *too* sympathetically, but he wasn't going to make fun of her when he knew Telly had actually cared about her. "Was it your airship you were working on when he tried to pull his money?"

Telly

"Yes. I'd hired a good few people to work on it day and night, and we were so close to finishing....though, 'close' was more like 'another two years', but back then that was _very_ close!" He laughed.

Alastor

"For something that size, first of its kind? I should say so! What made him want to pull out?"

Telly

"Well, that leads back to them, uh..._unintentional_ deaths. You see, I did not care for workplace safety." He chuckled.

Alastor

"*Ha!* I see! No surprise, having them work on it day and night!" He cupped Telly's cheek in a hand. "Did your callousness frighten him, my darling?"

Telly

"That and the, ah, _amount_ of men who died." He beamed.

Alastor

Alastor hooted. "You even sound *proud*! Were you proud at the time, or did you have to learn to be?"

Telly

"At the time, I was unconcerned. Mostly still am. They died so that my vision became a reality! It wasn't shameful-- their deaths had purpose!"

Alastor

"And a hell of a vision it was!" Although it might explain why apparently one of them had done slipshod work on the pipes; but pointing that out might sound like a criticism instead of an observation.

Telly

"Yes, well, Lord Everton was considerably disappointed in what he called a 'lack of safety' and 'lack of progress'. But I dealt with that."

Alastor

Alastor scoffed. "Oh, and what kind of progress was *he* expecting on the world's first flying ship? Did he think he'd be sailing it over the English Channel in three months?"

Telly

"_He_ thought it was to be just a submersible!" He laughed. "And he thought five years was more than a generous amount of time for it."

Alastor

"You didn't tell him it was going to *fly*? Why, I thought that would be a selling point!" He had no idea how long it was supposed to have taken to make a submarine in the late 1800s, so he couldn't comment on *that * part.

Telly

"Well, at first, it _wasn't_ but then I changed the blueprints a number of times and it just became an airship, too." Telly shook his head. "I was frantic and possessed by my genius."

Alastor

A strange look crossed Alastor's face. "Sounds like it must have been one hell of a time. In both good and bad ways." He almost said more, but paused, waiting to see if Telly had more to add to the story.

Telly

"It was, certainly, it was." He nodded and sighed, leaning against Alastor.

Alastor

He rubbed Telly's back for a moment, thoughtfully; then said, "That's probably how I would have described myself as a murderer toward the end. *Frantic and possessed.* Not by genius—and certainly not by something *forcing* me to kill—but I was... trying to make something." He said the words slowly, choosing them carefully. "I needed to take something inside of me and create it in the real world, and I couldn't stop until I succeeded." He looked at Telly searchingly, seeing whether he understood.

Telly

Telly locked eyes with Alastor, and nodded slowly. "Yes. I wanted to leave something behind, something grand, and it didn't matter what got in my way. Nothing was too high a cost for trying to complete _this thing_. I suspect it was a little different for you, with your killing, but....I thing the feeling was probably the same."

Alastor

"I wasn't trying to leave something behind, but I was trying to... *be* something, or—or *do* something, and I wouldn't be *complete* until I'd done it. By the time I died, it was almost the only thing that mattered." He took a deep breath. "It's like a forest fire, isn't it? There's nothing as beautiful as that blazing light, but it consumes everything in you."

Telly

Telly found himself nodding on instinct, and then when he realized what he was doing, he nodded more vigorously. "It starts like a spark and then just grows and grows until the blaze is all there is, and it's terrible and beautiful and you can't help but just....let it consume you."

Alastor

"And then you burn out. And then you're dead. And what have you got for it but the ashes of the life you could have lived if you hadn't kindled that obsession?" He gave Telly a sad smile. "Still. I wish I'd seen you when you blazed. I'll bet you were glorious."

Telly

"Sometimes you burn out even after death. I was still riding that blaze long after I think. At least, until..." He trailed off.

"I'm sure you could find old newspapers or broadcasts of my glory days in Hell, if you wanted."

Alastor

"Oh, I *plan* to! The only reason I haven't been devouring every article ever written about you is because I've had to read how to repair pipe organs first!" He smirked cheekily for a moment; but the mood wasn't right for that, and the smirk faded.

"I only *blazed* for... oh, I don't know, it might have been as short as my first day in Hell. Just long enough to ruin everything." He huffed. "Sure, I *really* crashed and burned a few decades later, but that was different. That had nothing to do with the murders. I think the old obsession's still smoldering, but—it doesn't consume me like it used to."

Telly

"Yes, there's something about dying and then falling from grace that does that, isn't there? I was flying high until-- that....incident. And then that failure tempered my drive...or squashed it, more like..."

Alastor

Alastor nodded thoughtfully. "Would you go back to that frantic and possessed feeling if you could?"

Telly

Telly thought for a long moment. "...No. No, I don't think I would. That fire and drive were intoxicating, but it didn't leave room for anything else. It was all just....the creation of it."

He turned to smile at Alastor, pressing his hand to his cheek. "I have things now that I want to have plenty of room for."

Alastor

He smiled crookedly back. "I don't think I would, either. I think I'm too old for serial killing now. I get tired just thinking of the kind of schedule I used to keep." He laughed wearily.

"... What if that's what it takes to conquer Hell, though?" He placed his hand over Telly's. "If I see you pushing yourself into obsession, do you want me to pull you back? Or do you want me to come with you?"

Telly

He considered that for another long moment. "I'm not sure. I don't have an answer right now-- I think that's a 'we'll cross that bridge when we come to it' sort of thing. But whatever the answer, I'm glad you'll be with me." Telly leaned in for a kiss.

Alastor

He accepted the kiss and held it for a moment, then drew back and pressed his forehead to Telly's. "We don't need the answer tonight—but I'd like to have it before we reach that bridge. Once we get there, I imagine pulling you back from the brink would take a fight. Better to know *before* then whether you want me to try."

Telly

"Yes....yes, you're right. It's just such a vast sort of question, because how are we to know the circumstances that would surround such a second descent?" He took a breath. "It would be complicated. But I don't think I'll go there again-- when I went there in life, it was from a very dark place, and the obsession became everything. I don't think I'd be able to get to that place again without something....drastic."

Alastor

"For now we'll call that a soft 'no', how's that? But we'll play it by ear. We can talk it over more in the future."

Telly

"Yes, I think that would be best." He laughed, leaning against him.

Alastor

Alastor adjusted his arms around Telly—and then, during the brief lull in the conversation, glanced at the movie. "... How long has that been off?" He laughed.

Telly

Telly blinked and looked over as well. "Goodness, I don't know. We talked through the whole thing!" He laughed.

Alastor

"And you know, I bet we had twice as much fun as we would have watching the movie!" All the same, he started quietly playing the soundtrack—to make up for not hearing it the first time. "Well, what now? The night's still young."

Telly

"Well, we still have food. And we could put on another movie if you'd like, and this time watch it." Telly chuckled. "I'm ready for whatever you wish, darling, I just want to keep holding you."

Alastor

"We *do* still have food." He grabbed a couple crostini, popped one in his mouth, and offered the other to Telly. "Oh, I don't know if I could pay attention to another movie—but I like this 'keep holding you' idea, I think we ought to do something with that."

Telly

Telly accepted the snack and smiled. "Yes, that would be good. Maybe some more kisses, too."

Alastor

"Do you know what I think about *that*?" Without waiting for an answer, he pulled Telly into a deep kiss.

Telly

Telly's eyes flashed wide for a moment before he melted into the kiss. What a night this had been.

Alastor

What a night indeed. Alastor nipped at Telly's lip and pressed closer against him; yes, he could happily stay right here the rest of the night.

#usedhearts #chat log

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tiramisiyu · 4 years ago

Text

【未定事件簿】Tears of Themis: Main Story 6-16 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Video

Chapter 6 – Tiger’s Accomplice Ghost (Parts 1, 2): 6-1 / 6-3 / 6-5 / 6-7 / 6-9 / 6-11 / 6-13 / 6-15 ♦️ ♦️ 6-16 / 6-18 / 6-20 / 6-22 / 6-24 / 6-26 / 6-27 / 6-28 / 6-29

NXX Base

On Wednesday morning, Lu Jinghe pushed open the main door to the base’s meeting room.

Lu Jinghe: Hah, I haven’t seen wrong, right? You’re surprisingly here, Mo Yi.

Lu Jinghe lifted his hand and looked at his watch, his meaning self-evident.

Mo Yi: If I said that I have not slept all night, would you also run outside to see where the sun has risen from?

Lu Jinghe: That wouldn’t be necessary. No matter how the sun rises and sets, it all won’t affect me.

Xia Yan: Sure enough, the transmission of data on this wristband has problems.

As if he hadn’t heard Lu Jinghe’s and Mo Yi’s dialogue, only after Xia Yan had finished with the work in his hands did he greet Lu Jinghe.

Xia Yan: You came pretty early.

Xia Yan: Why are you dressed so formally? NXX doesn’t have formalwear work requirements, right.

Lu Jinghe: I’m about to go hold a board meeting at the company – just taking the time to come to the base first to check some materials.

Mo Yi: There are results on the wristband inspection?

Xia Yan: Mhmm. Based on the hardware, the wristband we got from Wang Han doesn’t have any differences from typical health wristbands.

Xia Yan: But looking at the direction of data transmission, it doesn’t only collect in the Heirson examination centre’s cloud health system.

Xia Yan: I’m still tracking the exact recipient address, and I’ve already set up a program to crack it.

Xia Yan: Although it’s hard to estimate how much more time needs to be spent for now.

Xia Yan: If the data flows outside of borders, the time spent on inspection will increase by several times.

Mo Yi: I’ve already done comparative screening through the night on the examination centre’s examination report you gave me yesterday.

Last night, Xia Yan cracked the Heirson examination centre’s encrypted database, getting an examination report that had been partially specifically encrypted.

Mo Yi: From just the chemical experiment indicators, I can preliminarily estimate that the portion of participants with abnormal mental states is very high.

Mo Yi: But there is a very large discrepancy with the severity of their symptoms and their exact illness.

Mo Yi: I did a simple comparison to the cases of abnormal mental states already listed in “X-Note” and was able to find some coinciding people.

Lu Jinghe: So for the next step, you intend to directly contact the people in the cases and investigate their relationship to Heirson?

Mo Yi: That’s right. If we consider Mu Ziyou as a single piece of evidence, we might be able to find more illness cases.

Xia Yan: Lu Jinghe, you… ss…

Xia Yan stood up from in front of the computer, and was about to walk towards Lu Jinghe when he suddenly clutched at his left waist and sucked in a breath.

Lu Jinghe: What happened to you?

Mo Yi: …

Xia Yan: I’m fine, I’m fine. I pulled a muscle from suddenly standing after sitting for a long time.

As he spoke, Xia Yan took out a subdivided medicine container, held up a cup, and ate two pills.

Mo Yi: I saw you eating this medicine last night. What does it treat?

Xia Yan: Medicine? Oh, you’re talking about this?

Xia Yan waved the medicine container.

Xia Yan: This isn’t medicine to treat illnesses. It’s used to wake me up – a Ministry of Security secret formula.

Xia Yan: Agents are also normal people; we’ll also get tired if we haven’t slept all night.

Mo Yi: …

Lu Jinghe: Could you give me two pills? I slept late yesterday, and if I fall asleep at the board meeting later, I’m afraid I’ll get on the news again.

Xia Yan: I can let you eat some, but I can’t let you take the medicine away.

Xia Yan: Who knows if you’ll take it to Pax Pharmaceuticals to analyze the formula and mass produce it? Then I’ll have leaked its secrets.

Lu Jinghe: Aiya, you saw through me. Then I won’t randomly eat those medicines.

Lu Jinghe’s words were said meaningfully, and he also specifically shot a glance at Xia Yan’s medicine container at the end.

Xia Yan: How about you talk about the investigation progress on your side of things.

Lu Jinghe: With Heirson manufacturing illegal medications, Qin Shan wouldn’t be the only person in the know in the entire company.

Lu Jinghe: The backbones of the company, his aides, would probably know.

Lu Jinghe: It’s very hard for Qin Shan to regain consciousness now. I plan to start by checking on the people around him.

Lu Jinghe: And I also have an initial direction regarding exactly how Qin Shan was “poisoned”.

Lu Jinghe took out his phone and displayed a news article on its screen.

Mo Yi: The incident of Heirson staff members jumping from a building?

Lu Jinghe: Correct. A few years ago, news on Heirson factory staff committing suicide due to unbearable work pressure were revealed, one after another, online.

Lu Jinghe: But it seems like it was all heavy thunder with little rainfall. After the news passed its peak, no one ever mentioned it again.

Lu Jinghe: Zuo Ran’s been tracking the Xu Ping case this whole time. Xu Ping was also a Heirson staff member, and he also committed suicide.

Lu Jinghe: Then could there also be something strange about Heirson’s suicide cases from before?

Lu Jinghe: I came to the base because I wanted to check if I could find a list of names on related staff members.

Xia Yan: Speaking of which, we don’t know how the investigation on Zuo Ran’s side is going.

Just as the sound of Xia Yan’s voice fell, the three people took their phones with unplanned, identical timing and opened the chat screen…

City Police Station

Today morning, I came with Zuo Ran to the city police station. Yan Wei was still dealing with official business, so he had us wait a bit for him in the office.

MC: I looked through the briefing that Leader Yan sent on my way here.

MC: Xunye’s boss, Zhang Zhian, collaborated with others to rob armored vehicles in non-local areas 15 years ago.

MC: It was also 15 years ago that he fled to Stellis City. After that, the name “Zhang Zhian” disappeared, and it was replaced with “Qing Zhian”.

MC: The person who created a fake identity was called Gu Wei.

Zuo Ran: This Gu Wei is the deceased husband of Chen Hanzhang, and the founder of Wiley Financial.

MC: Deceased husband?

I had never paid attention to Chen Hanzhang’s marriage status, so it was somewhat surprising when being brought up now. I was just about to ask Zuo Ran when my phone suddenly vibrated several times in succession.

MC: What’s the matter…

I turned on my phone and took a look – Xia Yan, Mo Yi, and Lu Jinghe had sent messages to me individually.

Zuo Ran: What is it, have you encountered an issue?

MC: No, it’s just that the three of them all sent messages, asking me how the investigation process was going.

Zuo Ran: …

MC: Weird, they could’ve just directly asked in the group chat, so why’d they send messages individually.

I held up my phone and directly responded to the three of them in the NXX group chat.

[MC]: Morning everyone.

[Xia Yan]: Morning, have you eaten breakfast?

[Mo Yi]: Good morning. Are you already working?

[Lu Jinghe]: Morning, jiejie, where are you right now?

>I ate breakfast >I’m already working >I’m at the police station

[MC]: Of course I’ve eaten breakfast – Lawyer Zuo specially made it for me.

[Xia Yan]: So it looks like you ate breakfast on the way? That’s not too good.

[Mo Yi]: Mhmm, I agree about that.

[Lu Jinghe]: If you said earlier that you would be eating on the way, I could’ve had the chef at my place make some and sent it over to you.

[Zuo Ran]: The next time you want to know about the investigation progress, then directly ask in the group chat, so communication will be more efficient.

>I ate breakfast >I’m already working >I’m at the police station

[MC]: Mhmm! I’ve already started work. Lawyer Zuo and I came to meet an important witness.

[Mo Yi]: Witness? Looks like Xu Ping’s package isn’t that easy to get.

[Xia Yan]: Do side issues keep coming up?

[Lu Jinghe]: Can you confirm that package is in Xu Ping’s hands? Don’t get deceived.

[Zuo Ran]: The next time you want to know about the investigation progress, then directly ask in the group chat, so communication will be more efficient.

>I ate breakfast >I’m already working >I’m at the police station

[MC]: I’m with Lawyer Zuo at the city station – there’s an important witness we need to meet.

[Lu Jinghe]: Going to the police station this early? You’re working way too hard.

[Xia Yan]: Is your work schedule really reasonable? You got back that late yesterday, and you’re running around so early today.

[Mo Yi]: If you stayed at the base to organize data, you might have been able to relax more.

[Zuo Ran]: The next time you want to know about the investigation progress, then directly ask in the group chat, so communication will be more efficient.

>Case progress

[MC]: Since you were all asking about the case progress, I’ll just tell you all together rather than responding to you all one by one.

[MC]: Xu Ping’s package really is with that person called Zhao Fei, but he refuses to directly give it to us.

[MC]: We’re investigating a case related to illegal drugs. After we figure it out, we should be able to get the package.

[Zuo Ran]: There is an account record of Heirson raw materials in the package – it’s very important evidence.

>Ask about everyone’s progress

[MC]: Has everyone’s investigations been smooth?

[Xia Yan]: Of course it’s been smooth. I’ll tell you about the battle results after you return!

[Mo Yi]: It has been very productive, but the upcoming investigation will require your assistance.

[Lu Jinghe]: I’ve noticed something new. I’ll update you on the info after you’re done working.

>Leader Yan has come >NXX is lacking in manpower

[MC]: Ah, Leader Yan is here, let’s chat later.

[MC]: Lawyer Zuo and I will head off first to meet the witness.

[Mo Yi]: I hope it goes smoothly.

[Xia Yan]: You absolutely must not work too hard – pay attention to your health.

[Lu Jinghe]: Jiejie, remember to give me a call if you need me to help anywhere.

[Zuo Ran]: We’ll head off first. Leave a message if you all have something to say.

>Leader Yan has come >NXX is lacking in manpower

[MC]: Everyone’s work is quite saturated. I seriously think we need new people.

[Mo Yi]: It’s not just anyone who has the qualifications to join NXX. I’d rather we lack than have shoddy options.

[Xia Yan]: I think it’s fine. We can absolutely deal with the work amount we have now.

[Lu Jinghe]: As long as we schedule it reasonably, the people we have now is sufficient. Jiejie, don’t worry.

[Zuo Ran]: Leader Yan is here, so we’re going to go meet the witness. Leave a message if you all have something to say.

MC: Morning, Leader Yan.

Yan Wei: You two have arrived – you’ve worked hard.

Yan Wei, who had arrived at the office, had an expression full of weariness – he’d probably been dealing with cases the whole night at the police station without resting.

Zuo Ran: You just finished a surprise interrogation?

Yan Wei: We’d finished interrogating the person a long while ago, but while suspects can sleep, the police cannot.

Yan Wei: Time’s tight. I’ll tell you both about Qing Zhian’s situation first.

Yan Wei: Beyond our expectations, he was cooperative. Too bad that he doesn’t know much – he’s likely just a peripheral person in Chen Hanzhang’s gang.

Yan Wei: Plus… Zuo Ran, have you heard of the “Tiger’s Accomplice Ghost”?

#tears of themis #tears of themis translations #未定事件簿 #weiding shijian bu #lu jinghe #mo yi #xia yan #zuo ran #tot translation #the rest of the parts might take longer because i'm pretty busy for the next while #but the story is really good #i can't believe they're already showing XY's illness in main plot #my poor boy #as soon as i read that i had to translate it asap #MY and LJH are def suspecting something is up

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writerwrites · 4 years ago

Text

A Cruel Tide

Pairing: Steve Rogers (nomad!Steve) x Reader

Summary: A lost hero thinks she needs saving, but this divorcée’s needs were different, fleeting, and then full of attachment. Can they overcome the burdens on their shoulders and keep their word?

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: Smut 18+, specifically unprotected sex, soft Dom Steve (if you squint), some mentions of a divorce and criminal father and hints of winter holiday cheer.

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is the Week 1 prompt to the Optimistic Captain Donut Challenge created by @captainchrisbaby @captain-a-rogerss , @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho , and @donutloverxo ... The Week 1 Prompt was based off of the moodboard below and “What Could Be as Lonely as Love” by Amber Run

“Please come back, Baby. It’s Christmas! Where are you going to go?” She heard her ex plead on the other end of the line as she stood soaking wet in the lobby of a cheap hotel. Even the weather had turned to shit on the first holiday since the divorce. “You didn’t even take your bag. What am I supposed to tell them when they come out of the kitchen with your favorite dessert?”

“The truth.” Her words were as cold as the sleet pelting the glass door by the empty concierge desk. A few taps on the phone screen and it was over, screen black. Silent. Merry Christmas, no more lies. Just as her hand went for the bell again a stranger cleared his throat. Hand snapping back to her side, her gaze caught the movement out of someone by the vending machines in her peripheral vision. It took a minute to place him, the grown out blonde hair seemed darker and his thick beard certainly changed the alter boy appearance that the world had made synonymous with his Captain America persona. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks: this was a wanted man. She could have pulled her phone back out, could’ve called for help or ignored him, but when her eyes met his, despite the long disheveled hair and thick beard, the softness to him was undeniable. The only thing she could muster was a simple, few hours too early, “Merry Christmas.”

“You just missed him, the manager. He left to get a good seat at midnight mass.” His blue eyes flitted to the window and back to you. It was like he was waiting for the woman to say something as he flipped a coin in his hand and tucked it back into one of his pockets. “You’ve got to be cold. No point in waiting around or paying for a room when I’ve got an extra bed.”

Even with his nod for the young woman to follow him she was reluctant, wondering why he had a second empty bed and why he wasn’t with someone for the holidays- even as a fugitive. She couldn’t remember all of their names, never really following all the ‘super terrorism’ headlines, but knew there was at least a half dozen of Stark’s former friends that had stood against him, were arrested, and went ‘missing’ from some prison facility she couldn’t recall the name of. Despite her mind trying to dredge up whatever fleeting bit of news she’d heard, her feet were still following him through the dim hallway until they made it to his door. “What were you doing in the lobby if you knew he wasn’t there?”

“Vending machine. No room service tonight… I’ll get you some clothes and head back over. Do you want anything?” The grit in his voice was familiar, the sound of exhaustion, and her eyes moved over his frame as he spoke to the door handle and then the closet rather than looking at her. Where had he been while the world was looking for him? She mused as she watched him dig through a duffle bag and pulled out some extra clothes. When he turned to give them to her, the Avenger’s eyebrows knit together. The look of concern made her shoulders turn in self-consciously. “You’re shaking.”

In the subtle exchange of a flannel button up and worn in sweatpants her hands brushed over his, finding them rough with soft and slightly raised scars at his knuckles. “Sorry.�� She looked for the bathroom door and stepped around him, pausing before reaching for the handle, talking to her heels. “I’m sorry. Uhmm, no thank you, I had dinner. I’m just cold, wet… Thank you for being so nice to me.” She couldn’t do it, couldn’t pull her gaze off the floor, and with nowhere to go she couldn’t run. An apologetic smile found her lips and he saw it but gave her some space, leaving the room to go back to the vending machines before she walked into the bathroom and changed.

Steve stood at the vending machines, texting on his phone while he dropped money into the machine. His thoughts were on the phone call his superior hearing had overheard and the subsequent stammer in the young woman’s heartbeat. He knew the feeling of love lost too well, but to see it written on her face, to see even her dark skin pallor, it brought back a sorrow he’d thought he’d buried when Peggy died. By the time his ordered assortment of chips, cookies, and honeybuns had thunked to the bottom Natasha and Sam had joined him in the lobby. “I’m not sure she’s going to talk to me.” Steve started, only to be interrupted by Natasha.

“I told you that I should have gone in. You’re not as clever as you think you are, Rogers.” Nat smirked, leaning against the wall after catching a bag of chips he tossed at her. “We’re running out of time. The longer he’s out there…”

“It’s not that. She was on the phone when she came in and it wasn’t about her father. Something doesn’t add up. Why would she even make this trip?”

“Eavesdropping on phone calls? Step up your game. She’s been tapped for a week, we don’t need your ears, we need a conversation. You got this, brother. Do what you’ve got to do to get her to talk.” Sam gave him a smirk and clapped Natasha on the back. He heard Steve, but time was of the essence and with no one at the prison talking, their targets only connection to the outside world, that they knew of, was sitting in this hotel room and they needed answers. “If you can’t make it happen then send Nat a text and we can pretend she’s back for the other bed early.”

“Whatever it takes,” Nat crushed the empty bag in her palm and chucked it over the concierge desk and into a waste bin as Steve nodded and walked past his comrades, but the blonde grabbed his arm. It would have been an understatement to say she hadn’t taken the agreement to have Steve lead the interrogation felt a little personal, but she knew he could do it, perhaps just not as quickly as her. “Try and have a little fun while you’re at it, Cap.”

The jacket dripped into the tub as it hung over the shower curtain rod. It was on sale, a thoughtless gift from her father three years ago, but the only coat she owned with lining since the separation led to a move to Miami. The knee length silver dress was new and now ruined, tag discarded in the trash and the heels next to it over the vent. As she looked in the mirror, water running for what seemed like an hour before it reached lukewarm, she twisted her dark locks so that they were out of her face and less likely to frizz. The waxy soap doing little to rid her of the full face of make up which hadn’t budged in the fray of arriving at the one hotel in the small town that she could afford. Despite freshening up, her body was still shaking. The flannel’s too long sleeve flapped past her fingertips and the sweats kept riding down to the widest point of her hips, making her look like a tired college kid.

With both of the beds made, she couldn’t be sure which one to take and settled for the one nearest the bathroom. As soon as she collapsed onto it she could smell the same scent as the shirt she now wore. The distinct sweet woody smell of patchouli, slightly cloaked in a hint of fabric softener. Her teeth chattered as the door opened, but she didn’t bother to move outside of hiding her face. She felt the weight of his body slumping onto the mattress at her side, the sound of plastic raining down on the sheets was what made her peak her head out. “Oh, wow! Was there a malfunction in the machine?”

His steely blue eyes looked at the young woman with worry but it seemed to melt away in a blink or two. “No, I couldn’t decide and I remembered you said you’d had dinner but not dessert, so Merry Christmas.” Both of their fingers moved toward the honeybun and he laughed a little, “A deal? One of us gets the honeybun, the other gets to pick the movie?”

Her chin quivered, as she tried to smile while she reflected on the options. “No deal. We split the honeybun and agree on a movie.”

Taking her lip in her teeth to stop the chatter and anxiety, her sad eyes looked up at him. “All right, you win.” He got up and passed her the remote, taking his time to go back to the closet where he turned up with a stack of clothes under his arm and socks in his hand. “Here, I forgot these. I’m just gonna hop in the shower, maybe be five minutes. No stealing my half or starting a movie without me.”

By the time he emerged, warm steam poured out of the bathroom with him. Steve thought she would have warmed up and calmed down, the sound of her heartbeat and shivering no longer ringing in his ears. Instead, he found all of the food in a little pyramid on the nightstand and a black and white movie waiting for them on the television. “You can have the whole honeybun if we can watch this…”

The glimmer in her eyes and swollen red bottom lip, she could tell he knew she’d been chewing on it the whole time. He slumped back onto the bed next to her, his damp hair dripping down into his beard. His brow furrowed thinking she’d leaned in when it was just his weight on the cheap mattress sliding her in. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t pulled away immediately and then she felt the shiver of his warm, minty breath on her skin. A wave of relief washed over her when his features warmed. “No deal, we split it and we’ll watch your movie.”

His words had been whispered and he didn’t pull his blue eyes from her face. She felt naked being looked at so seriously and her eyes moved down the slope of his nose to the beard. Reaching up, her small hands brushed the droplets of water out of it, surprised to find it softer than she could remember a beard being. Her thoughts immediately went to the last beard she touched, the last hotel room, the last person she wanted to think about and her thighs clenched together with want while her eyes pressed together to hold back the emotions she had been running from for a year and had literally sprinted from an hour ago. “It’s The Lemon Drop Kid… it’s the Silver Bells movie.”

Steve leaned his face into her palm and offered up a simple grunt of acknowledgement before he opened his eyes again. She watched him in shock, that little act of intimacy making her aware of how lonely she was in this world. He seemed to notice, covering her hand in his. “Your hands are still cold.” The tension between them, the unblinking gaze, the whispered words, both of their hearts were racing. Steve caved, giving her a choice. “Want me to stay? It would probably be easier to share snacks?”

Before she could stop herself she was nodding and he was leaning over her, taking the honeybun off the nightstand before collapsing back on the pillows. Steve watched her lick her lips but assumed it was a natural reaction to the honeybun passing her nose. With her hands pulled to her chest, she swallowed when his solid frame hung in front of her for that fleeting second and when it was gone her hands covered her mouth to stop herself from taking in a deep breath of the intoxicating smell of him. Her eyes stayed glued to the television as she blew shaky breaths onto her fingertips. The monologue in her mind about all the little anxieties of life that led her to the desperate place where she was okay sharing a hotel room with a fugitive stranger over Christmas was louder than the man opening the plastic, chewing, starting the movie, and then talking to her about her half of the honeybun. Her dark eyes blinked at him when his face was in front of her again, her thick lashes fluttering in confusion. “Hmm?”

Steve set the snack down and took her hands in his, rubbing them gently as his callouses brushed against her soft skin and his beard tickled her palms when he brought them to her full lips. He only let one hand go with a nod to the food before he continued on his little mission. She nibbled at the sticky treat and watched him, holding it out every bite or two for him to steal a bite for himself until it was gone. Nothing made sense to her anymore, she wasn’t a flirt and certainly never fell into the category of being overtly trusting. He picked up on the nerves, the expression of her being trapped in her thoughts, it reminded him of Bucky and a pang of guilt to his closest friend being in an icebox in Wakanda fleetingly hit him. Neither of them needed to be alone with their thoughts on a holiday, he decided, so he tried to get to work and strike up a conversation, “Why’d you pick this movie? Not trying to make me feel good by picking an oldie, are you?”

“I used to watch it with my dad… Everyone has a go to Christmas movie, I guess. I just didn’t think I’d see it on television. When it comes to holiday movies, I guess most channels play Miracle on 34th Street if they’re doing a classic… most do the newer films. Do you have a favorite?” She watched him settle in next to her once more, reaching for his hands as he pulled away and, to her surprise, he took it back in his and draped the other arm over her shoulders.

She grabbed a pack of cookies with her free hand and Steve’s blue eyes watched her more than the movie. The woman no longer shook or shrunk in on herself with a little bit of reassurance and comfort, again, reminding him of Bucky. “Why aren’t you with him this Christmas? Why aren’t you with anyone?”

The questions felt immediately too intrusive, despite the casual tone in his voice and her body tensed against his briefly before she decided they were totally normal questions. “I haven’t heard from him in two years. I don’t really have people… I gave up most of my friends over a relationship that ended a year ago.” Her gaze fell to her hand in his, the ring finger glaringly naked as the Avenger’s thumb brushed over her knuckles. “You have a lot of scars too.”

He was processing every word and micro-expression when his gaze followed hers to his hands, initially wondering if she’d heard something about his story. “Part of the job. I take a lick just fine though.”

She nodded, noting the present tense to his response before deciding she hadn’t meant just the scars on his hand. Though she didn’t really know the depth of it, there was some mutual sentiment she couldn’t put her thumb on with him. “Doesn’t make it right. There��s enough pain in the world to not need to carry the memory of it on our skin until the end of time.” Her own were hidden under the long sleeves of his flannel and she’d almost forgotten how she swam in it despite her curvy frame. “Have you seen this one before?”

“No, I missed out. I’m sure I’ll love it. I’ve always been a fan of film.” He stole a cookie, mulling over how to keep the conversation on her father, “I’m sorry you haven’t talked to your father. Have you thought about calling him tonight? Tis the season, right?”

“It’s easier said than done.” She sighed. “I don’t have a number to reach him and he doesn’t have mine. I… I don’t even know if he’s alive.” The words came out in such a broken way, at first rushed and full of closed off frustration- not at Steve but the situation. Then came the familiar burn of grief and the internal conflict of trying to determine how much information was too much information to share on the subject. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be,” He quickly interrupted her apology, but he felt the damage had been done. Steve pulled her to his chest in a slow but gentle hug and again she didn’t fight it. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his strong pulse beneath the hard muscles and her legs tangled in his as his sweats slipped lower on her hips. “For what it’s worth, I can’t get a hold of the person I’d like to spend the holiday with, too. Missed a lot of Christmases.” He swallowed down the knot in his throat, “Maybe we can just focus on being present and what we can change.”

Resting her chin on his chest, she looked up at him, “If you want to talk about it, you can. I’m a better listener than a talker.” It was true, after a year of keeping a massive secret about an ended marriage full of them, she became a master of doing as she was told.

Steve moved his hands up her back, inadvertently sighing when she pressed herself closer. They were both touch starved and though he thought he should keep his guard up, that this was work, the way she looked at him made his new hard exterior feel like a facade. Looking at her through his long lashes, he felt torn for the first time between the job and physical needs, his thoughts trying to just find some balance. His palm brushed against the skin peaking out at her lower back, “I don’t really have much to say about him. My best friend, he’s getting some help and I can’t be with him while he’s doing it. I feel helpless about it and then a bit torn up about missing more time with him. It’s a complicated relationship and complicated circumstances.”

Reaching up, she scratched her fingers through his beard, “But does he know that you’d be there supporting him if you could?” Steve nodded and she offered up a small smile and a few more words, “Then that’s all that really matters. You’ll be there for him once you can. I may not know anything about you outside of this room or by any names except ‘Steve’ or ‘Captain America’, but I can tell the news read you wrong.”

Her dark eyes searched his as she chewed on her bottom lip. Though she’d never thought of herself as a good judge of character and had certainly found good in horrible people, the man’s little gestures and something in those blue eyes told her that she didn’t need to be afraid of him. His hands moved up her back, under the flannel shirt massaging the soft expanse of her supple curves. Just as slowly, she untangled her legs from his, the sweatpants slipping down her thick thighs with the traction. She left them there, climbing onto his lap with little regard to the fact that she was now in her silky knickers on a soldier’s lap, fingertips still pawing at his beard. Steve’s hands moved over her waist, her body as pliable as his wasn’t and he watched her throat and savored the hiccup in her pulse every time his hands brushed over a new part of her skin. “We should probably…”

With a nervous laugh she agreed, but her hips were still rocking against him and his mouth was still inching closer to hers. “…or we could ju-”

Steve wouldn’t be able to explain why he’d crossed this line later when Nat and Sam asked him about the lack of intel. A part of him didn’t care. Her full lips were soft against his and the way her wanton whimpers poured into his mouth when his tongue drew across them made his cock twitch. Every little sound and taste of her made his body react. Steve’s hands reached up her full frame, opening the buttons of his shirt and discarding it until the curvy young woman was on his lap in nothing but her bra and panties. His bright blue eyes were alight as they gleaned over her frame. His sex life wasn’t anything to write home about, chaste in comparison to Sam, Nat, and even Bucky; it also happened to revolve around work- agents in peak shape. He ached for her, a natural beauty with soft edges. Steve palmed up her back and she followed his fingers, helping him undo the clasp before helping the silky number join his shirt somewhere over the edge of the bed. Her eyes were on his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed at the dry knot there, as she continued rolling her hips against his. The woman’s were cheeks pink with embarrassment at her level of exposure in the warm light of the room, the tips of her fingers slowly plucking at his own clothes before Steve leaned in and pulled her mouth back to his. “You’re beautiful.”

The sweet words pouring from his lips just before they latched onto her breasts made her laugh and then gasp for air. His tongue drew circles around her nippled before he nipped at them and his hands caressed the soft flesh. As he marked her with three wine stained blemishes on her chest, she finished removing his shirt, only laughing again at the contrast of his toned body to her swelling curves. Her laughter filled the room as he smiled against her skin and she responded by reaching into his pants and stroking him until he was completely hard in her hand. She couldn’t help herself, panties soaked from every touch. She pulled them to the side, rubbing her wet slit against his length. Like animals they both pawed and groaned over the new friction. “Do you want me?” Her nervous whispered words brushed against his ear and Steve lifted her off his lap just enough to pull shimmy off his pants and line himself up to her entrance. Pulling his mouth to hers she kissed him softly, slowly lowering herself onto him despite his firm grip on her waist a clear bruising plea for more. “Be gentle with me.”

Steve groaned as he filled her slowly and completely, her warm wet cunt milking him as she gasped into the curve of his neck. His lips ghosted across every inch of her skin as he stretched her out, hardly moving or encouraging her to move, simply appreciating how good it felt to be inside her. When her breathing steadied, Steve palmed over her ass and pulled on the silky fabric of her panties like they were reins. Her back arched and she started to grind on his cock, her clit taut against the fabric and his pelvis only causing her to moan loader as she gripped the soldier’s broad shoulders. With a firm clap and squeeze to the round soft skin of her cheeks she picked up her pace, eyes closing with satisfaction as his thick cock filled her and stroked her walls again and again. “Good girl.” He groaned, his hands moving down her thick thighs, the veins in his arms prominent as he helped lift and drop her down on his length. Steve’s blue hues settled on the view of her dripping down his length, so wet for him. How long had it been since he gave in to just wanting someone? His thoughts were fleeting, drawn back to the reality of the stranger riding him like she hadn’t been satisfied in her entire life, now her fingers pulling his mouth to her, but he nibbled on her lip and pushed her back, his mouth drawn back to her full breasts.

With here hands clutching the bedsheets behind her, back arched as she rode his slow deep thrusts into her, she couldn’t help but tighten around him, watching him hold her was one thing… a simple delight she’d not had in a year. It was listening to him grunt and growl when her pussy throbbed around him because of the little delights. As he sucked on her breasts and he squeezed her ass holding her down on his thick cock with every thrust, she felt him hit her sweet spot, sending little heat waves through her core until she was begging. “I’m so close. I need you, Steve. Please, please make me cum.”

Steve obliged, easily laying her back on the bed and tangling his legs in hers as he lowered his weight onto her small frame. His hips rutted against her and he grunted against her mouth between greedy kisses while his hands, which had been pinning her to the bed spread her legs further apart, giving him complete access to push her over the edge. She bit her finger on one hand as the other pulled at his thighs, muffling her pleas for release, “Come on, sweetheart. Let me hear you. Let me hear that beautiful voice say my name.”

His thumb brushed over her clit in teasing flits, back and forth and her hand left her swollen lips, clutching his wrist as he continued to rub her sensitive bud through her release. “Steve! Please. I…” Her orgasm came hard, pouring her juices over his cock he kept warm and deep inside of her, savoring that tight pussy now clutching him like she’d never let go and all the subsequent little earthquakes from his ministrations on her clit. Her thighs shook and she laughed and purred and pleaded, but he gave it to her and when she was undone on the bed, his hard length still deep inside he laid down next to her, and rubbed her back. “Don’t stop.” She whispered after a tired soft kiss up his neck to the scruff of his beard at his jaw. Her leg slid over his hip and, again, he abided her request, his hand moving down that leg and back until he was sure she was ready. Her soft kisses confirmation as he began to rock into her once more.

This wasn’t just a fuck, it was slow and sensitive, pleading. He worshiped every inch of her as he felt her soak his cock two more times from the slow, deep grinding and nipple play. Each time he marked her skin with another hickey, groaning into her neck and shoulder and mouth about how sexy listening to her cum was, how good she felt around him, how perfect her soft curves were. The praise made her throb around him and he pulled her onto his chest, asking her where she wanted him to finish. Her pleading to stay inside her, the purrs of how much she loved being full of him set him off. She rested her body gently against him and, cradled there, he claimed her in broken and hungry thrusts, his coarse hands holding her tightly to his frame as a final thrust to the hilt and he poured hot spurts of his seed into her. Her lips brushed across his salted skin before she let out a satisfied sigh. His blue eyes closed, a sleepy laugh passing his lips, “It doesn’t get better than this does it?”

Her tired eyes peaked open at him and she giggled as his hands flopped to their sides, only his finger tips tickling her tired thighs. “I’ve never had better.”

A peaked ‘hmm’ passed his lips as if to ask, is that so, but neither of them had energy to spare for conversation. Steve managed to tuck one arm under his head, his heavy eyes watching her slowly fall asleep, the unprofessionalism of his decision to sleep with her now sinking in as the charm of her melted into a warm, silent comfort. In bittersweet introspection he thought of how to rectify the interrogation that needed to happen. Knowing she wasn’t from this city and likely to go home under the circumstances, he settled on making plans to find her in a week. Nat and Sam wouldn’t be happy, but he’d find a way to keep them busy with other leads until he could talk to her again. Silver Bells echoed through the room and Steve fell asleep, just for a little while, basking in the comfort of being adored and held rather than objectified or idolized. For the first time, he dreamt of a dance with a partner that wasn’t Peggy.

The familiar quiet buzz of her phone woke her up with a cat-like stretch and sigh, momentarily forgetting where she was. Clumsily smacking her hand around in the direction of the sound she quickly hit the wall of muscle at her side. “Good Christmas morning. You’re up early.” He smiled with a quiet laugh on his lips. “I plugged your phone in when mine stopped charging. I think all your messages are coming in.”

Her eyes sheepishly looked up from the pillow at him, processing the fact that the night hadn’t been a dream. “Merry Christmas morning, Sir. You’ve been up long?”

With a shrug, he let her process the fact that he was in dark tactical gear. He broke her thought process with the soft whisper of her name, waking her up with delightful surprise and curiosity as his expression looked hopeful. “What are you doing New Years Eve?”

She bit her lip and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling with no desire to look at her phone or confess how dull. “Home alone, I guess.”

“Don’t have to be if you don’t want to.” Steve set his phone next to hers and slid down next to her, “All you have to do is ask.”

Her heart raced and she felt like she was still dreaming, but he reached out and brushed her dark hair from her eyes and met his gaze as Steve waited for her answer. “Find me in Miami and kiss me at midnight?”

With a satisfied hum, he closed the space between them. Steve hovered over her, craning his neck down for a quick peck when she shyly pressed her lips together. “That explains the coat.” He laughed, unpinning her so she could get out of bed, watching her as she slipped out of bed and picked up clothes from the floor as she tiptoed to the bathroom. Though she hadn’t gotten the door closed, she already saw her things neatly folded on the edge of the sink, a little travel kit set atop it all. As if he could see her smile, he hollered toward the door. “I hope you don’t mind that I spoke to the manager when they came in this morning about needing some basics.”

The rest of the morning went by too quickly for either of their liking. He didn’t join her in the shower, distracted by a disagreement in a group text with Nat, Sam, and the other nomads about trying to interrogate her again in a week. Meanwhile, she was glad for the privacy to do her hair and clean the night from her brown skin, the only reminders left were the tender aches and the plum bruises. Just thinking about it made her wet again and, despite the work related distraction in his hands his superior hearing made him hear her moan more than once, making his twitching cock semi-hard in his tac suit. He sat with her while she waited for her ride, he took her number, and when he kissed her goodbye, his flannel shirt tucked into her purse, both of them found a slice of happiness in a lonely holiday.

The loft apartment felt vacuous compared to the cheap hotel room, but she managed to make the most of the long week. Decorating the place with a small tree draped in tinsel and silver bell ornaments, draping the window sills and counters in twinkling garland, and counting down the days to New Years Eve. Each day felt like a month, trying to reconnect with her father while juggling her meaningless job. Each night she pulled on his shirt and her hands slipped between her thighs until she fell asleep blissed out in the memory of their night together. There hadn’t been a single word from the nomadic Captain until a dozen roses waited for her on the doorstep of her apartment, a small card with silver bells detailing the corners that simply read: One more day, doll. - S.

Though Steve thought a week’s wait to see her again would have been painless compared to the lifetime he’d missed in ice or the subsequent years he’d spent mindlessly droning on until he joined the Avengers, but the task had been anything but speedy for an unexpected reason. Sharing the limited information he’d gathered, Nat and Sam took new perspectives on getting the answers they needed for their mission, all three of them tasked with finding people connected to the family. All the digging, shared intel, pointed to an intricately planned prison escape gone wrong. While Nat and Sam thought his worries for their target’s daughter were unfounded due to estrangement, Steve had every intention of keeping his word, simply too busy moving and looking for answers to engage in the formalities of modern flirtation. Every day was busy with work and every night, surrounded by pictures and papers, he’d wonder if she was drowning in thoughts of him too. The roses were his way of making it up to her, his confession, and every detail was carefully thought over.

As she sat in the twinkling holiday lights, the sun long since set. She clicked on the television to a channel showing the Ball Drop in New York, muting it to play her own playlist of holiday songs. To be fair, Steve hadn’t given her a time he’d show up. Cracking open the red wine, she danced alone in the shimmering silver dress that ghosted across her knees and hugged her hips, time slipping by mildly unnoticed with each sip and song. Just as she’d descended into the cushions the door to the apartment opened, startling her and causing her wine to spill across the cushions. It was the broad shoulders filling the doorway that made her hold in her scream. The familiar silhouette stood speechless and her mouth bobbed open and closed like a fish when they closed the space between the living room and front door. Her eyes moved to the television, expecting to see some sort of red tape Breaking News alert that pigs could now fly. Instead, her eyes fell on the time, bright white in the corner and reading seven minutes past midnight. She ran her tongue across her painted lips, closed her eyes, and laughed. Fate, she decided, had little regard for New Year promises.

Taglist: @caplanbuckybarnes

#captainsweeklychallenge #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #fic: steve rogers #writer: writerwrites

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scoundrels-in-love · 4 years ago

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can i just say how much i loved your take on kissing + overt physical intimacy in kdramas? i've long thought about the consequences that those kinds of scenes have for actors--especially women--because they then have to deal with people harassing them for showing affection to colleagues, weird rumors, and then mass nitpicking. plus, if they aren't comfortable, it makes it even more difficult. there's also something icky about forcing western media norms onto korean entertainment. something's off

Ahhh, thank you so much for this message! It means a lot, because I did/do have some anxiety over posting this. And oh boy, looking back, do I have about this as well!

I almost ended up emitting that strike through, admittedly, because I feel like I am not knowledgeable enough to make these assessments and claims that might sound judgemental, but I had to say something and I will try to expand here a little. I do not wish to come across as ignorant, but I am aware that I don’t know enough to make this in full fledged discussion as it ought to be.

It’s honestly so wild that while we’re watching this drama where Eun Bi is literally about to be cancelled for having put her hand on a married man’s hand and then asking for this very free depiction of sexual intimacy, while fans that ship the actors are running rampant on twitter and having hard time seeing the line between acting and real life. Netizens and regular watchers alike have such notoriously hard time distinguishing these details and nuances and while it’s not necessary for a show to step around these things just because people like to jump to conclusions, I also don’t know... Why it would be necessary to do this in this specific context.

Plus, I don’t know a lot about filming industry, but I do know there are intimacy coordinators/consultants and when I think about how unexplored this could be in Korean movie industry and how iffy it could turn, when I think about all the scandals surrounding Korea, from the cameras in women changing rooms to Burning Sun and more and more, just every glimpse of how women and their bodies are treated in the society by the looks of it... I’d rather not think that about having to make actresses (and actors) go through more than they already do, put themselves at emotional and physical risk (I’ve seen real life horror stories where such things turn into genuine assaults on movie sets, although I would have to dig around to find sources, because my brain is one big cheese hole) just so part of the watchers can get their enjoyment of watching them go at it on screen. (Like, even the comparison of these scenes to porn literally kinda makes me shudder uncomfortably and it’s coming from the watchers/fans!)

As for your final point... Oh boy, do I have thoughts on that and if it wasn’t 3am, I probably wouldn’t kick the hornet’s nest, but here we go.

I have complained in secret (aka to my friends) about how Netflix is impacting the way kdramas are told by bringing influx of season 2s, which is something that I dreaded from way before Netflix era while youtube and even tumblr was full with ‘season 2 when!! We need it!!” although the story is complete and wrapped up with a pretty bow. One of the reasons I fell for kdramas are that they told beautiful story that we saw from start to end in 16 episodes, without need to be stretched over seasons and seasons and collapsing in on itself. And while kdramas don’t have to pander to me (or anyone else) as a genre, there is something about this particular way of storytelling that their writers have created and maintained for years now (with the subgenre for a longer makjangs), so why must they change it to become more Westernized?

Someone on my original post did comment about how tiring is the sexless asian stereotype and I hope I come across clear in that post and this that I am not against the concept of there being sex and intimacy in these stories. I just also don’t think the only way to show the characters are mature and engaged in full-fledged relationship and even sexual one, by actually us having to WITNESS it from start to finish.

Again, I’ve not minded the upgrade from typical fisheye kisses where height of girl’s enthusiasm is her feebly clutching to man’s jacket that kdramas have seen in latest years, there’s been some truly beautifully shot hot kisses! I just don’t think that anything less than getting undressed on bed or full-out makeout should be a mark against the couple and the drama, especially if a shyer kiss is in line with characters and the moment Especially with a show like Run On that thrives on saying so much in the spaces between lines.

But also a thought: how much of this relentless thirst for sexual content in these stories could actually be a subset of fetishizing of POC because a lot of these thirsty people are white?

#rainy watches kdrama #kdrama #rainy's opinion #I don't know if I should tag it with r*n on or not #Anonymous #sent on a cloud

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inu-jiru · 4 years ago

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The Tiger And The Zebra

Chapter Four - The Rematch

There it was. The Earth.

I’d only just arrived at the bridge when I saw the mass of blue and green outside of the window. I picked up my pace, stopping beside Peridot’s seat. The warship wasn’t in orbit yet, but the planet was close. A strange object floated outside, drifting lazily past the ship.

“What are those?” I asked, pointing to it.

“I’m not exactly sure,” replied Peridot. “I sent out a Hand Robonoid to investigate.” Pausing, one of her limb enhancers’ floating digits pressing something on the control panel. A holographic screen popped up, showing various images of what I assumed to be aerial views of...cities? That had caught me off guard. There were no cities during the war. All that I’d known of humans was that they lived out in the wild, taking shelter in caves and defending themselves with primitive spears. They’d somehow managed to evolve from that, which was...puzzling.

“Using this data,” the technician continued, bringing me to attention. “I was able to identify any and all cities adjacent to shorelines composed of Earth sediment. If you look here…” A digit pointed to a certain spot located on the northwestern continent. The image zoomed in, showing a smaller human settlement. What interested me was the stone structure near the shoreline. Though the shot was from above, I could see what looked like arms protruding from the sides. “Not only does this city exist on what can be called a “beach”, but there seems to be remnants of Gem architecture. This may be the “Beach City” the Lazuli spoke of. If I have your permission, ma��am, I believe we should land here.”

“Of course,” I said with an approving nod. I had to admit, I was impressed. “Very good work, Peridot. I’ll be sure to inform your manager of your ingenuity.”

I smiled politely down at the sitting Gem, and she looked up at me with wide eyes and a deep blush. She then smiled, a small and rather awkward-looking one. Seeing her joy only made my smile grow wider. I was of the opinion that all Gems, even the lesser ones, deserved some sort of commendation for a job well done. It was good for morale, after all.

“Thank you, Zebra Agate, heh…” she said sheepishly. Clearing her throat, she looked back at the control panel, her “hands” sinking into it as if it were made of fluid. “The ship will land within the next hour.”

“Jasper and I will deal with the traitors, should they show themselves,” I proclaimed. “It should take no more than a few minutes. You will be free to head to the Kindergarten after that. I shall inform Jasper.” Peridot nodded in agreement. I turned from the window, preparing to walk back towards the rest of the warship. Suddenly, I paused. I remembered the traitor curled away in her cell. A sneer formed on my face as I called back over my shoulder:

“Have the Lazuli removed from her cell. I want her to watch exactly what happens when a Gem even thinks of turning against Homeworld.”

I walked on after that, Peridot’s nervous “Yes, ma’am…” fading into nothing behind me. Eagerness pulsated throughout my form. I was so close...so close to hearing Rose begging for mercy as thrashed her repeatedly over the head with my crook. It was less than what she deserved, but that was where White Diamond’s punishment would come in. I was certain of that.

As I made my way down the corridors, a thought came to mind. I remembered that sparring attempt I had when Jasper rotations ago. She’d said something about me being rusty. I was too flustered at the time to pay it any mind, but now that I thought about it, I begrudgingly had to confess that she was right. Agates weren’t always used for combat; usually, our sheer presence was enough to keep a Gem in line, and any fighter Gems under our command were involved with actual warfare. That wasn’t to say that I had no fighting experience; I was ordered to fight alongside my Quartzes halfway through the war, before the rush job that was the Beta Kindergarten. That was thousands of years ago, however. I needed practice. I needed another sparring session.

I slowed my pace as the entrance to the training bay. Jasper’s fierce shouts made my hands tremble slightly. How embarrassing...I was supposed to be striking fear into her, not the other way around. Unfortunately, the fact of the matter was that Jasper was incredibly intimidating, more specifically, her enthusiasm. I didn’t want a repeat of last time. I bit my lip. If I wanted a chance to spar with Jasper without it becoming a game of chase, I needed to think ahead.

I needed to do something unorthodox.

I reached the training bay entrance, my past excitement being replaced with dread. What I was about to do wasn’t so much risky (hopefully) as it was incredibly cheap. Nevertheless, this would be entertaining. Carefully, I brought out my crook and held it against my body. I then reached for the side of the entrance, fiddling with the control system. I found the light source and turned it off. Immediately, the room side turned pitch black.

“What the hell?” I heard Jasper mutter. Pressing the button to close the door, I quickly ducked inside and was submerged in darkness. I hugged the wall, treading as lightly as Gemly possible. I couldn’t see her, and I wasn’t about to do something as stupid as walking blindly into her. I heard her smack her lips in annoyance. “Tch...what did that runt do?”

“Oh, Peridot had nothing to do with this, I assure you,” I dared to call out. I smirked, amused at my own boldness.

“Zebra Agate?” Jasper grunted, understandably confused. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing,” I cooed. “I just realized that we had some unfinished business.” I could now see the glow of her gem. A beam of orange light began moving this way and that. She was searching for me. I let out a sharp gasp as it nearly landed on my arm. Unfortunately, the noise still gave me away.

“Hmph. Is that right?” Her boots thudded against the floor as she approached. I dashed off to the side as quickly and as quietly as I could. She started snickering. “Are you kidding? You’re not seriously trying to get the drop on me, are you? Wow...you know, that’s pretty cheap.”

I almost laughed. Quickly, I slammed my hand over my mouth as I held back a giggle.

“I prefer to call it strategy,” I shot back. “You do know what strategy is, yes?” She snorted. That got me. I started laughing, and immediately Jasper’s searchlight fell on me. A flash of light told me that she was equipping her crash helmet.

“Tsk,” she scoffed. Thanks to her glowing Gem, I could make out that trademark grin of hers. “Strategy...I’ll show you strategy, Agate.”

“Oh?” I purred. I was right; this was fun, and we hadn’t even traded blows yet. “Come on, then. I give you permission.”

She didn’t need any further coaxing, though I was pleasantly surprised that she’d waited as long as she did. She started sprinting at me. This time, I was ready. Using her light as my guide, I rushed at Jasper. When I felt she was close enough, I swung my crook, the hooked end facing away from her.

TWACK!

The impact was hard; I could feel it through the crook’s handle. Jasper cried out as she staggered to the side, at least from what I could tell. I wasn’t finished. I swung my crook again, this time, swinging it upwards. There was another hard impact, followed by Jasper’s yell. There was a thud; I assumed she fell backwards, as the shine of her Gem was now beneath me.

“Are you alright?” I asked in mild concern. I was expecting Jasper to shoot back that she was fine or something to that effect. However, she remained silent. Jasper’s searchlight began moving; I think she was trying to get up. I’d taken a step back, when suddenly, she growled.

WHAM!

It was now my turn to be thrown off balance. Something hard decked me in the face, and I was sent to the floor before I could even process that I was in pain. My crook flung itself from my hand, clattering against the ground in the darkness.

“Guess your little plan backfired,” Jasper remarked, looming over me as she laughed. Her searchlight shined directly into my face. I narrowed my eyes. I couldn’t let her get the upper hand. Deciding to ignore the pain as best I could, I felt around in the dark for my crook. “Oh, no you don’t.”

Jasper was suddenly on top of me. I began to panic as her hands gripped my wrists, rather tightly, I might add. With a snarl, She forced them to the ground. I brought up my knee and it pressed into her stomach. Now, she couldn’t bring her full weight on me. If she wanted to move my leg, she’d have to release one of my wrists, and judging by her sudden hesitation, I got the feeling that that wasn’t what she planned on doing. It was a very small victory, though. Jasper laughed again. I could barely look at her with her searchlight shining down on me, but I could just make out her form out of the corner of my eye.

“That’s it?” she taunted. “Tch. I was hoping you’d last a bit longer than that.”

“I’m not finished yet,” I insisted, but that only earned me a third laugh. I gritted my teeth in frustration.

“Heh, looks that way to me,” mocked Jasper. She moved one of my wrists, now holding onto both of them with one hand while the other suddenly took hold of my chin. I gasped as my head was turned to face Jasper. I squinted against her searchlight.

“Could you at least turn that down a little…?” I grumbled. I was so glad I’d turned out the lights; to say that I was completely flustered by this was an understatement. My body felt hot, even more so now that Jasper was handling me with such confidence. Her searchlight dimmed, allowing me to finally see the smug satisfaction on her face. She was smirking again, all of her teeth exposed. For a fraction of a second, I actually thought she might bite me.

“I guess I should thank you,” Jasper finally said, much to my confusion.

“...What?”

“I could never do something like this to Yellow Agate. She’d crack my Gem if I even thought of asking her to spar, and she sure as hell isn’t afraid of hurting me.” I frowned at that.

“I’m not Yellow Agate,” I stated firmly. “I don’t want to hurt you. This is supposed to be fun.”

“But what’s fun without a little risk, huh?” There was that purr again. Jasper’s now half-lidded eyes glowed with an almost...primal emotion. I couldn’t describe it, and yet, it allured me. This entire situation was risk incarnate, and dare I say it...I was enjoying myself. The more I thought about it, the more I was beginning to wonder if Jasper was right. Perhaps I was holding myself back.

Maybe it was time to give Jasper what she wanted.

My body began sparking with electricity, flashes of white illuminating. Jasper’s arrogance quickly changed to surprise.

“Be careful what you wish for,” I hummed. In that instant, electric energy shot out from my body and gave Jasper a mighty jolt. Sparks flew as she was launched off of me, shouting in alarm. There was then a cacophony of noise as Jasper crashed into...something.

I got up, not bothering to look for my crook or re-summon it. I followed Jasper’s Gem glow and threw myself down on top of her, straddling her stomach. Jasper’s hands were on me quickly, but I wouldn’t wait and give her the chance to push me off. I began delivering punch after punch, growling as fiercely as I could each time I made contact. Jasper fought back, and before I knew it, we were rolling across the floor, locked in combat as we barreled into the equipment around us. She’d land hits, as would I, but I don’t think either of us really registered the pain. The adrenaline, the chaos...this was all that mattered in that moment.

Then, the lights turned on.

I cried out in discomfort, as did Jasper, and we collapsed in a heap on the floor with me on top of her. Sitting up, I now found my hands resting against the sides of her head, my fingers interwoven in her splayed-out hair. We were both panting heavily, and I’d only just now noticed the feeling of sweat dripping down my bare “skin”. Our eyes were locked, and I couldn’t make out what emotion she was feeling. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, either, but I did know one thing: I hadn’t wanted it to end.

“Er…” I suddenly heard Peridot’s voice. “Am I...interrupting something?”

I looked up, seeing the green Gem standing at the training bay entrance. Her eyes darted from me to Jasper. Remembering myself, I pulled myself off Jasper’s body, as much as it pained me to do so.

“Just a bit of sparring,” I responded quickly, dusting myself off. “Is...everything alright, Peridot?”

“I’d...heard all the noise and I thought maybe an engine had exploded or...something.”

“You should’ve just stayed at the bridge, half-pint,” Jasper grunted, having gotten to her feet herself. Peridot glared at the Quartz.

“Alright, alright,” I said quickly, glancing between the two Gems. “What I think Jasper means is that we appreciate the concern, but things just got a bit...carried away?”

“I can see that,” Peridot commented, her eyes sweeping across the room. I decided to take a look for myself and see what damage we’d done. There was a treadmill that had its lower platform completely smashed. That had to have been what Jasper landed on earlier. I grimaced, knowing that I’d have to explain that in the future. After the treadmill was a mess of barbells and dumbbells that had been knocked over. I think we’d even crashed into the punching bag, as it was still swaying. I was amazed at myself, in all honesty.

Yes, well,” I started. “As you can see, everything is perfectly fine. Well, many not “perfectly”, but you know what I mean. That will be all, Peridot.” I clapped my hands, signalling that it was time for the technician to return to her post.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Peridot hurried off after that, leaving me alone with Jasper once again. By now, I’d caught my breath, and the training bay was now quiet aside from the rhythmic hum of energy flowing through the pipes on the ceiling. Jasper and I turned to each other. She was smiling. One that was quite tame compared to her usual smiles. She looked satisfied, which had me blushing yet again.

“Now that was more like it,” she began, breaking the silence. “I guess I was wrong about you, Zebra. You’re not as rusty as I thought you were. I actually felt a few of those punches, heh.”

“Thank you, Jasper,” I replied with a grin. “And you’re more durable than I thought. Not a lot of gems can take that attack point-blank and still keep their physical form. But, then again, you’re not most Quartzes, are you?”

“Hell no, I’m not.” With her hands on her hips, Jasper stood tall and puffed out her chest. I chuckled softly.

“I’m honored to have gotten a chance to spar with you, then,” I told her. “My Quartzes will be jealous, especially the Amethysts; they absolutely adore you.”

“As they should.”

I’d been preparing myself for some more banter with the Quartz when I’d suddenly remembered why I’d come to the training bay in the first place.

“Stars, I’d completely forgotten,” I mumbled. Jasper glanced as me, a brow raised. “I was going to come and tell you that we’ve nearly entered Earth’s orbit. That was, until all of this…” I gestured at the mess we’d made. “...Happened.”

“About time,” Jasper sneered. She began cracking her knuckles in anticipation. “I needed a warm-up, anyway. When are we landing?”

“Within the hour, according to Peridot. We still have some time to spare. Which gives me an idea…”

“Oh?” Jasper looked at me in interest. I felt bad, because what I was going to suggest was not going to be anything fun.

“I think we should tidy up a bit,” I said. Jasper’s eagerness deflated, a gleam of betrayal and disappointment in her eyes. I covered my mouth as I laughed apologetically. “Come now, let’s not be savages. Besides, someone has to do it. I’ll even make it a game.”

“...?”

“Whoever finishes gets to land the first punch on Rose.”

I’d barely finished the sentence when Jasper sprinted towards the nearest dumbbell.

#steven universe fanfic #su jasper x oc #canon divergent au #steven universe gemsona #omg are we finally getting to ea r t h

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47pictures · 3 years ago

Text

“All-Star”

Link to original r/nosleep post:

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/mv9j9a/for_my_blog_i_toured_a_movie_studio_to_find_the/

________________________________________________________________

I finally made it to Hollywood… at least, I suppose that’s what I’d say if I were trying to make it big. That wasn’t exactly the case, though. On the contrary, my old hometown friend was the one who I’d say ‘made it big,' and she was the only reason I managed to get there. No way in hell I could just stroll through these Hollywood gates without some sort of reputation associated with my name.

I’m currently pursuing a degree in journalism, and right now I’ve got a pretty successful status as a blogger, and hopefully podcaster in the near future. My topics typically cover things involving entertainment, specifically movies, television, some celebrity gossip here-and-there, the ins and outs of the film and occasionally music industry, nerd topics about comic books or comic book movies, and I could go on. Essentially, all the things you’d expect from an entertainment blogger.

I don’t have a secret or special tip for how I grew a mass following. It just sort of happened. I did it since I was in high school - sophomore year, to be exact, and it started mainly as a hobby. Most people are surprised to hear that I was such a good writer and articulate for my age when they look back on the articles I’d put up during that time, speaking on topics such as the ‘downfall of blockbuster films,’ and the ‘toxicity of media's body standards on the youth.’ Truthfully, I didn’t know all of what I was saying half the time. Writing was sort of just my natural gift that I honed to where I could essentially bullshit anything well enough to make a great story. However, being ethical always remained my moral code.

The topic I was covering now involved my own personal ‘investigation’ of a famous movie studio known as Gemini Films. They’ve put out several flicks now that have garnered what most would consider moderate success (they're no Warner Bros. or Paramount, that's for sure). They deal mostly in the thriller/horror genre, sort of like Blumhouse. I’m a bit more in the sci-fi, comedy realm when it comes to my tastes, but really, I’m a bit of a pussy when it comes to scary stuff.

So why am I 'investigating' them? Well, as it turns out, it's their amazing use of special effects. Yep, that’s it. Special effects, that thing we fell for as children we called ‘movie magic,' and growing up learned that some of it were all the crafty work of well-put CGI. Though that’s usually the case, this time, something about Gemini Films seemed different. They’ve always been praised for their ‘hyperrealistic’ visual effects and pulling off stunts that would otherwise seem impossible. I was watching one of their action/horror films titled Last Thorn, and in a particular scene, a character’s on-screen death is, well, very lightly put, gruesome. I’ve seen my share of on-screen gore and played plenty of Mortal Kombat growing up, but I gotta say, I found the scene hard to watch. To clarify, it involved a character literally exploding before the camera, and from the way it was shot and the lack of cuts and edits typically required to create the illusion of a scene, it seemed quite real. A little too real…

They’ve done other things aside from their special effects department that some people on internet discussion forums found a bit too impressive. Take the actors, for instance. In their dramatic scenes, especially the horror flicks, I’m almost always convinced that the actors are actually going to die on screen. I’m surprised all of them haven’t been given Oscars yet, ‘cause goddamn, you’d think the director was holding them at gunpoint. We all saw just how amazing the acting was in films like Hereditary and The Babadook were, but I gotta say, after watching these films, they make those two look like child’s play (no pun intended to the Chucky series). I was so impressed with the actors that I had to look them up and see what other work they’d done, but from what I did find, their resumes didn’t seem that much greater than the work they’d done for GF. It was almost as if that was the peak of their careers unless they decided to further their contracts to star in any more of their movies. Anything else they did pale in comparison that showcased their acting chops.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jamie Douglas.

It had somewhat of household name potential, I thought. She was the next rising star. She’d just won a Golden Globe for her leading role in a TV series I’m sure no one had high hopes for in the beginning, and her name was now attached to an Academy Award-winning film for Best Original Screenplay, all at the age of 22. Her acting was stellar, always had been even growing up back in high school when we did theater together. I was never for the acting side of things; I always preferred the technical realm and behind-the-scenes work. She, however, had the ‘it’ factor. I never once doubted that she’d be famous. It was destined for her.

The taxi driver dropped me off in front of a luxurious one-story home in the Beverly Hills neighborhood, surrounded by other similar houses with a property value larger than what I’d probably make in my lifetime if I was being honest. From the outside, her home reminded me of that gilded, golden age of Hollywood back in the 60s, with a slanted roof and art deco-styled exaggerated features. It was nice and simple. But that’s how Jamie was. Nice and simple.

I could see her peeking through the curtains of her window before she came running out the door to meet me in the front yard. That big beautiful smile and those joyous eyes came rushing at me with open arms.

“Christian!” she screamed my name with excitement, as she gave me a big, suffocating hug.

I hugged her back with my free arm, as my other one was still carrying my trolley bag and she had that one pinned in her grip.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I made it to Hollywood, right?” I dryly humored.

Jamie giggled as she began to pull back from her hug and put both her hands on my shoulders.

“Yes we did,” she said with a big smile, flashing her perfectly straight, white teeth. “We sure did.”

She led me inside the house and gave me a tour. Compared to the outside, the inside was the complete opposite in regards to the decorative era. Whereas the exterior was ‘groovy’, the inside was a bit more with the times. Wide-open spaces, tan or beige-colored furniture and walls, a wide sliding door for the backyard where you can see the pool. Jamie recently moved into the house, so I figured there wouldn’t be a lot of things to fill it up with just yet.

“Someone said Bette Davis used to live in this house, which I knew was bullshit, otherwise the value on this home woulda been way outta my league,” Jamie commented.

I chuckled. “Oh, I think you’re well on your way, trust me,” I reassured.

I was going to be staying with her for a week while I did my journaling/blogging. We did tons of catching up. She gave me all the inside scoop of what goes on in Hollywood - or ‘Hollyweird’ as I liked to call it - and even some of her other famous neighbors you might recognize living double lives on the down-low. She said she’d been to a couple of big mansion parties as well, where you’ll see all sorts of celebs from different categories of entertainment. Actors, athletes, musicians, models, influencers, you name it. But Jamie insists that she doesn’t attend those very often, if hardly at all. She prefers to be a homebody when she’s not seeking work through her agent, and her extraversion mostly comes to play when it involves networking.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The rest of the night we stayed up watching TV and YouTube videos. One that fascinated both of us was a video explaining how scientists managed to find a way to make a perfectly cooked steak from a cow, but without actually harming or slaughtering it. Instead, they extracted a small sample of the cow’s cells and took it to a lab where the cells would essentially grow into muscle for it to be cooked later.

“I’d consider that over going vegan,” Jamie said.

But I grimaced at the thought. “I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem right,” I remarked.

"What, are you vegan?"

"No, not that. Just the thought of cloning animals, ya know?"

“I mean, it’s not like they’re killing the cow or anything. They said it’s perfectly unharmed.”

“I know, but still…”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next morning was day one for me. Jamie had the right connections to get me an on-set tour of the studio lots associated with Gemini Films. I was greeted and led by the third assistant director (or AD as they’re commonly referred to).

“Hi, I’m Tiffany, nice to meet you,” she said, with a rather forced smile and handshake.

She carried a clipboard in her other arm, as well as a hand-held radio clipped to the pocket of her jeans, and I saw that she also had an earpiece nestled in her right ear. I could tell she was about her business and probably didn’t have time to be overly nice or talk too much.

I got a sneak peek of their most current production under the production title *"*Cold Silence", which required me to sign an NDA beforehand, of course. That wasn't actually their final name for the movie, but it's a common thing for them to do when shooting a film when either they haven't decided on a name yet or to keep the nature of the project a secret. It sort of took me back to my theater tech days with all the set designs and props lying around, except these were much more detailed and intricate thanks to their higher budget than what my high school had at the time. Here, there was limitless potential. Tiffany also introduced me to the other ADs, PAs, boom operators, cameramen, make-up artists, and then last but certainly not least, the director.

“Jeffrey?” Tiffany called to the man sitting in the director’s chair. The man turned to face her and then me. “This is Christian Watkins. He’s the man we’re giving a behind-the-scenes scoop for his… blog?” She looked to me for confirmation, to which I nodded. “Yeah, for his blog.”

The man in the big chair stood up with a cool smile and classy charm and extended his hand for me to shake.

“Christian, nice to meet you,” the man spoke in a tenor pitch. “Jeffrey Bachmann,” he introduced himself.

I didn’t take too much time last night trying to read up on his bio, but from what I could tell at first glance I knew that he was about in his mid to late fifties, as his hair was greying and skin was starting to wrinkle, and I could see that he had a surprisingly calm and laid-back demeanor. Surprising to me, at least. I always thought directing was a high-paced, chaotic mess that never ceased to present a myriad of complications onset that’d make any man want to pull their hair out. But Jeffrey seemed calm, collected, and very personable.

“Hi, thank you for having me,” I replied. “Seriously, this is like a really cool opportunity for me and my blog.”

“Hey man, it’s my pleasure,” Jeffrey said. “I heard you got a big following behind your name. Props to you. I respect the work ethic, especially giving your readers what they really want to see, ya know?”

I shrugged modestly. “Well thank you, but this time was mostly in my own interest to seek out this idea for my current blog,” I said.

“Ah, an interest in GF, huh?” Jeffrey replied. “Well, what would you like to know? We’ve got nothing but time today. In fact, we’re just getting ready to shoot the mangle scene for today and then we’ll wrap it up before we review the dailies.”

“Mangle scene?”

“Oh yeah, if you’ve got a weak stomach or aren’t into gore you don’t have to watch.”

At least he gave me discretion. “Hmm, I think I’ll tough this one out,” I said. “For the blog.”

Jeffrey gave me a sincere but slightly unsettling grin. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

He was a nice guy so far, but you know how you just meet certain people that for whatever reason, out of their control, their aura seems off? Maybe it was my preconceived notion and warranted cynicism I had of people working in Hollywood. Just a bunch of sharks in a pool with hungry eyes for desperate young talents eager to take a dive in the spotlight. But as I’d imagine with any field, there had to be a decent share of lambs among the many wolves.

Suddenly, one of the makeup artists scampered over to us, their attention directly at Jeffrey.

“Hey,” they said to him with a noticeably fake inflection.

“Hey, what's up?” Jeffrey returned.

“Savannah? She’s losing it back there. Said she wants to talk to you and only you.”

Jeffrey nodded. “Don’t worry, I got it,” he said, as he patted his hand on the MUAs shoulder. He then gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Christian, duty calls, but hey, Tiffany?” he looked to the stern AD. “Make sure he gets a front-row view for the martini shot.”

“Yes sir,” Tiffany replied.

Jeffrey and the MUA stepped off to handle whatever business needed handling regarding one of the actresses backstage in the dressing room.

“Martini shot?” I asked.

“Last shot for the day,” Tiffany explained. “For me, that’s a term I like to take literally.”

She seemed so serious all this time that I found the joke almost funny.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There was now quiet on the set. Shooting was about to start shortly. At this point in the movie, the main character has a stand-off that turns into a big fight scene with the main bad guy at a warehouse factory building. At first, there’s a gunfight, then eventually they both run out of ammo and it comes down to a fistfight before finally having a standstill on top of a rail just over a giant industrial shredder.

Right now, the actor playing the bad guy, Will, is hanging on for his life over the rail above the shredder, while Thomas, the main good guy, is standing over him victoriously. My question was, is the shredder real? ‘Cause it sure as hell looks like it. It wasn’t turned on yet, but just from a glance it seemed legit enough that if I dropped something as sturdy as a microwave in there, it’d come out jelly on the other end.

For the blog, I told myself. For the blog…

Suddenly, my suspicions were confirmed once Jeffrey called to have the shredder turned on. The machine roared to life, the inverting sharp metal gears rotating past each other being a black hole eating everything that passes through it with no escape. Holy shit. It was actually fucking real.

Jeffrey gave the nod to the 1st AD, and the AD returned the same.

“Action!” the AD called.

Based on what Jeffrey showed me from the script, Thomas is supposed to stomp on Will’s hand that’s gripping onto the edge of the rail, causing him to fall to his death into the shredder. The camera was now rolling, yet, I didn’t see Thomas do the deed. Was he pausing for dramatic effect? Was he acting for the camera? I wasn’t quite sure why he was hesitating.

I peaked over to notice that Jeffrey, the once calm and collected man I met backstage earlier, was now beginning to seem noticeably impatient and about to snap at any moment. There was now that dark edge I noticed about him from before but couldn’t quite put a finger on that I could see now coming to light.

Hesitation filled Thomas’ veins, about to raise his foot, then not, dragging on the scene longer than intended. From this distance, I tried to see Will’s own expression, and I regret ever doing so. Surely he was acting, but I’ll be damned, it was too good. Whatever fear he portrayed transmuted itself into me now. It was the kind of fear that I didn’t think could be replicated on command. Jeffrey stood up from his seat, but just before he could say anything or call ‘cut’, Thomas stomped his foot down on Will’s hand, and we all watched as his fingers slip from the railing. Will sent out a bloodcurdling scream as he plummeted to his ‘death’. What followed will haunt me forever.

Do you know what it sounds like to have a person’s body mangled to death? Have you bitten into the bone of any sort of meat? Heard and felt the crunch? Or maybe even the crunch of celery? I myself have never broken a single bone in my body, but imagining what it might sound like other than what I’d heard in movies or video games all seemed elementary now. At first, I had to look away, but what forced me out of my seat to leave was Will’s horrifying screams. He’d fallen feet first into the shredder, so his lower body had to suffer first before reaching his upper body and finally silencing him at the head.

I ran to find the nearest trashcan and hurled. I guess I really didn’t have the stomach for gore, at least, not to this degree. Will’s screams kept looping in my head. It was a new primal sound that evoked a dread within me that I wish I never discovered. The sound of torment. One thing was for sure, Will was one fucking hell of an actor - if this was acting. But the shredder…

It seemed so real. And there was no greenscreen besides the ones to be used for the background later in post-production. I saw him fall right into the damn thing. With my own eyes. In living color. There were no edits, no crazy tricks, no lighting effects. There couldn’t be. It just wasn’t possible.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I was sitting down trying to recuperate, as everyone else around me was wrapping up set for the day. Tiffany came over and handed me a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” I said, taking it.

“You feelin’ better?” she asked.

“Hmm,” I answered with a scoff, raising both my eyebrows and taking a sip from the bottle.

“I’m surprised you stuck around if you had such a weak stomach. I mean, he at least warned you.”

“I usually don’t. But that?” I shook my head. “How do you guys do it? It looked so real.”

“I’m just pulling your leg. I almost vomited too my first time. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

If it was a shame to flinch at something so vile, I don’t wanna know what goes on in Jeffrey’s mind to even come up with such a scene. Speaking of which, I still didn’t get a one-on-one interview with him as I’d hoped. All I had was the end result of his ‘movie magic’, but not how he did it. At this point, I'm not sure I really wanna know.

I went to go get my belongings, which were left in one of the dressing rooms, and was stopped by the sound sniffling from the one a couple doors ahead of mine. I looked on the door to read whose room it belonged to. It read: SAVANNAH YOUNG. She was one of the lead actresses in the movie, or rather I should say the only actress in the whole film. With the makeup artist and Jeffrey thing that happened earlier, it was evident to me that something sour had gone on behind the scenes I didn’t know about.

The door was cracked open and I couldn’t see her face entirely from my view, but I knew she was sobbing. She looked to be sitting in front of her mirror. I was about to just ignore it and go on about my business.

I lightly knocked on the door. “You okay in there?” I asked.

She stopped and I could hear her get up and approach the door. She pulled it back just enough to where I could see her whole face. She was beautiful, just like Jamie, even if she had been crying.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Savannah said. “Thank you.”

There was a brief awkward moment of silence between us. Clearly, she wasn’t fine, but I didn’t wish to pry any further than that.

“Are you one of the new PAs?” she asked. I arched a brow. “Production assistant?” she clarified.

“Oh, no, I’m just a visitor,” I assured. “Writing for my blog. I was supposed to be writing about behind-the-scenes things and how it all works around here, but I bitched out from the ‘mangling scene’.”

Savannah gave a short nod. “I see,” she said. “Well… I don’t blame you.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the way she said it or just from the state that I was in, but her words gave me chills.

“I should get going,” I told her. “Nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,” she replied, and then shut the door.

I got my stuff from the dressing room and got ready to head out. I wonder what could’ve made Savannah so down to where the director had to get involved and set her straight. Jeffrey seemed pleasant to work with at first glance, but who knows, maybe he had a mean streak to him after all, especially the way he looked during the shooting of the scene. God, I just wanted to forget about it. I can’t unhear the sounds. The bones crunching, the blood splattering, and the screaming. The fucking screaming…

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As I was leaving the studio lot, I noticed the cleaning crew of two men dump a large amount of black bags in the dumpster. From the way they swung the bags over into the bin, the shit didn’t seem light. The bags were in several different sizes, some small, some big, some disproportionate. I stood there and watched as the two men finished disposing of the junk and walked away to go about their other duties.

Regular, common sense me would’ve just picked up the phone, called Jamie to let her know I’m ready to get picked up, and go about my day. But the nosy blogger me kept itching…

I made sure the coast was clear and made my way over to the bin. I can’t believe I was actually dumpster diving, and for what? What did I really expect to find? In my head, I knew the answer, but was avoiding it, either out of how ridiculous it may sound or, God forbid, I was right.

The trash wasn’t stacked high enough from the bottom for me to simply reach, so I had to literally get in there myself. I climbed over on the other end, raised the lid, and jumped down on the piles of plastic bags, holding the lid up with my arm and my breath so I didn’t get a huge whiff of the smell. Though, if I did need to puke again, I supposed this would be the place to do it.

I immediately noticed the bags the men threw away, but in order for me to check what was inside, I’d have to crouch down and let the lid close on me. Fine. That’s what the flashlight on my phone was for. Surrounded in darkness and garbage now, I turned the flash on, illuminating the four dirty walls around me and I pulled back one of the bags. I felt around to try and see what sort of contents might be inside. Mush. It felt all mushy with chunks of solid and a little bit of liquid.

This was stupid, I thought. I realized how stupid I probably looked right then and there, sitting in a bin full of filth looking for clues like some sort of private detective. My followers have no idea how far I’d go, but this was ridiculous. Oh well, I’m too deep in it now, no pun intended.

I held my phone in my mouth as I used my hands to rip open the plastic. My heart began pounding as I slowly pried the bag open. Once I got a peek inside, shame and embarrassment came over me.

Food.

I should’ve just called Jamie to come get me. Had I really become that desperate? I threw the bag over and out of my way. Then I noticed the bag underneath had trickles of fluid. Curious, I shined the light down on it. They were red trickles. Considering how I’d just overreacted only to find a bag full of thrown out lunch, I wasn’t about to get all up in arms about finding red drops behind a Hollywood studio lot. I didn’t know the full recipe for fake blood, but if I recall correctly, Alfred Hitchcock used chocolate when they filmed the shower scene from Psycho.

I tried to follow the small trail and see if it led to another bag. I slowly pointed the light further up and it led me to the bag just behind the one I tossed to the side. Looks like it had a small bust that caused it to leak. When I pulled this one over, a very noticeable smell filled my nostrils and erased any other scent of the trash that surrounded me. It was a metallic, rusty sort of odor, like copper from a penny. However, that smell also belonged to something else…

I ripped open the bag, and with the shine of my light beaming down, I was welcomed to a bright crimson sight of mashed blood and guts. It had to be fake, I thought. It had to… but the way I recoiled from the putrid metallic fresh scent of carnage, my primal instincts told me that wasn’t the case. I innately knew that it was real. I was staring at Will’s mangled body.

Frozen from fear, I sat there for who-knows-how-long. What the fuck was I supposed to do? I’d call the cops first, of course, but they would need evidence, and even then they’d probably dismiss me after I told them I dove into the dumpster of a movie set where fake blood is a common prop. I’d tell Jamie the same, but she’d look at me crazy, too.

I unlocked my phone and started snapping pictures. As much as I could. I even opened some other bags and did the same. I tried to snap every bit of remains that was left of Will and saved them into my phone. It felt like a sick test to see how long I could hold my breath so I wouldn’t gag, and I think I broke a new record that day.

I snapped probably about 47 pictures on my phone before I finally shot up and threw open the bin. The wave of fresh air hit me like a truck, and enjoyed it for only a brief second before turning to see Jeffrey, Tiffany, and the other AD standing by his side. My soul left my body right then and there.

“Christian?” Jeffrey said, sounding concerned.

Fucking say something, I told myself. I did my best not to stutter and look stupid.

“Hey, Jeff,” I said, raising the inflection of my voice, probably sounding dumb.

“Going for a swim there?” Jeffrey joked.

I fake laughed, then put on my best acting skills. “I cannot for the life of me find my ring.”

“Your ring?”

“Yeah, my mom’s ring?”

Then, with the slick subtle motion, I hid my hands to where they couldn’t see them behind the walls of the bin, and with careful coordination used my fingers on my right hand to pull the ring I already had on and flicked it down onto the trash below. I shuffled my feet over the bags I stood on to make noise so they wouldn’t hear the ring drop. Please God, don’t let the ring hit the hard bottom floor or one of the rusty walls, I thought. To my relief, it didn’t.

“Oh man, I’m sorry, Christian, I haven’t seen it,” Jeffrey said, as he looked at the other two as they also shook their heads. “But we can definitely look around again and let you know if we find anything.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, trying not to make my voice tremble with anxiety.

“Now, c’mon, let’s get you outta there,” Jeffrey said, waving his hand over.

I nodded and shot a quick timid smile. I climbed out of the bin and faced the three before me, wiping myself down.

“Hands a little messy there,” Jeffrey said.

Anxiety raced through me again, but adrenaline had my back to make sure I didn’t fuck up by saying anything dumb.

“Oh, the fake blood?” I chortled. “Yeah, you guys lots of that shit in there. Smells like a chocolate factory.”

Jeffrey fell for it, and laughed. Good. But he could just as easily be playing me right now.

“Given how you ran off earlier back there I’m surprised you can stand to look at it, better yet, touch it,” he remarked.

“I’m sorry about that,” I stammered but stayed on track. “It’s just… I now see for myself, no one does it like GF.”

“Haha, you don’t have to flatter me to get back my respect. Don’t sweat it. I totally understand.”

Is that so? I thought.

“You could use that martini shot right about now, huh?” Tiffany joked.

Definitely not with her any time soon. Or any of them, for that matter.

“Well we’re just heading out for the day, you got a ride?” said Jeffrey.

“Yeah, I should probably call Jamie now and let her know I’m done,” I replied.

“It’s no problem, man, I can give you a lift. I can drop you off wherever you need me to.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Seriously, I insist-”

“Jamie and I got a spa appointment to catch in a bit. Otherwise I appreciate the offer.”

Jeffrey had a brief look in his eyes, a glint of what I could only compare to a wolf’s gaze hiding behind that sheep’s clothing he carried himself around as, and then smiled and nodded.

“Okay, Christian,” he said. “Once again, nice to meet you and I hoped you enjoyed the tour, and hopefully make some good content for your blog.”

“Absolutely,” I said. “Thank you so much again. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s nothing, Chris,” Jeffrey said, throwing me off a bit. “Can I call you, Chris?’

I shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I called you Jeff by accident,” I said.

“It’s fine. Chris and Jeff it is.”

I needed to get away from here. Now and as fast as possible. But I still needed to do one more thing.

“Any chance I can wash these off inside?” I said, raising my bloodied hands.

“Oh of course,” Jeff said.

“I can lead him back,” Tiffany said, ready to go with, but Jeffrey stopped her.

“Ah, he knows his way in, right?” Jeff looked to me for reassurance.

“Yeah,” I answered confidently.

“Good, well hopefully I’ll see you around, Chris, and you enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thank you, Jeff. And you all do the same.”

As I walked past them and towards the studio lot, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was being set up. Why hadn’t he let Tiffany escort me back inside? I’d think that would be customary for them to do for visitors entering and exiting the building. But I felt that they were watching me from behind, and with every step, I grew more and more anxious.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I’d made it inside and the lot was now nearly empty and quieter. I didn’t see a single person in sight, and only a few lights remained on, making it mostly dark. I hurried the fuck up and did what I came to do, as I didn’t wanna be here any longer and didn’t feel safe.

Down the hall where the dressing rooms were, I rushed over to Savannah’s door, and saw that it was closed. I tried opening it only to see it was locked. Looking down, there was no light shining through the cracks either, meaning there was no one inside. She wasn’t there. Shit.

I washed my hands in the bathroom, scrubbing the dried blood off as thoroughly as possible, getting under nails and all, cringing at the thought of it being Will’s. Suddenly, I heard a noise from outside the hall leading to the bathroom. Petrified, my heart sank into my chest, and I froze. I shut the water off, and carefully approached the door. I listened for any other sounds as I placed my ear closer. After a few moments, I heard the noise again, but then realized that it seemed to be coming from one of the dressing rooms just outside in the hall.

Since I carry a notebook around most of the time for jotting down notes, I certainly always carry a pen. What most people don’t know is that I carry a military tactical pen for a variety of uses, and in times like these, it can be used as a subtle but effective weapon. I switched the tip from an ink ball to a small slick blade.

I opened the bathroom door and crept through the hall over to the dressing room door that made the noise, holding the pen underneath the breast pocket of my sweater. On the outside of the door, it read, “WILL BANKS.”

Confused, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Common sense me once again kept barking in my brain telling me to GTFO, but I had to be sure. I gave three shy knocks and waited. There was definitely someone in there because whatever noise I thought I heard from behind came to an utter halt. I could hear faint whispers of someone’s voice, and then another. There was more than one. My hand trembled as it tightly gripped the pen underneath with sweat as I heard whoever it was on the other end of the door approach.

It swung open, and there stood Will Banks, the man whose blood was just on my hands moments ago, alive and well, in the flesh. It couldn’t be, I thought to myself.

“Can I help you?” he said.

I just stood there, baffled, without answering. Behind him, I saw Savannah, who instantly recognized me and came over.

“Hi,” she said. “I thought everyone left.” She looked to Will. “He was visiting the set today for his vlog, or I’m sorry, blog.”

Will nodded, understanding now. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t get to meet you. Will Banks,” he said, pointing at his name on the door. “As you can see.” Savannah chuckled, and Will extended his hand for me to shake.

“Christian, or Chris,” I said, releasing the pen from inside my sweater and reaching my own hand out to take his. "Whichever you please."

He had a firm shake, and it felt uncanny considering what I’d just witnessed. I was touching him, feeling his skin and bone underneath, the warmth of his body temperature through the flesh. He was real. He was alive and breathing. That couldn’t be faked. That couldn’t be a visual effect. This was real. After we let go, suddenly my hand went cold. Everything about this seemed off and downright strange.

“Did you stick around for the shoot?” Will asked.

“I did, as a matter of fact.”

“Well, what’d you think?”

I wanted to say so many things right then and there, he had no idea.

“Um... y’all are some damn good actors,” I said.

Will laughed a bit, accepting my sham form of flattery, but Savannah, not so much. She gave one of those forced gestures as to not make it feel awkward, though, I noticed it right away.

“How do you do it?” I asked.

“I would give you some artistic bullshit answer like ‘study your craft’ or ‘years of training,' things like that, but honestly… it just kinda clicks, ya know?”

I fake chuckled. “No, I don’t. It looked kinda real from my end. Too real, I might add. Care to go into detail how you guys pulled it off?”

“Well, uh-”

Savannah interrupted. “Wait, you know what Jeffrey would say,” she whispered to him.

“I know, but it’s for his blog,” Will argued.

“But still.”

“I mean, Jeffrey’s not here, right?” I chimed in.

They both looked at me, then at each other. There seemed to be some sort of nonverbal understanding between them, and Will looked back at me.

“All right, for the sake of your blog, I’ll give you what I can to the best of my wording, that sound good?” Will proposed.

I took the pen back out from inside, switching it to the ink ball with a short click, and whipped out my small notebook. “Hit me,” I said.

“Get ready for this one. Basically, we’ve been using a new thing in the biz lately sort of like mocap but it’s not exactly. It’s also kinda like hologram sort of tech?”

“Really?” I said, eyes widened with interest as I wrote words down.

“Yep. That’s how we did it. What you saw, was as real as the hologram thingamajig allowed you to.”

“Hmm.”

“The shredder, too.”

“What?”

“The shredder. That was a hologram also.”

“Really? Okay…”

I finished writing on my notepad then turned it so that Will could read it.

BITE ME, I wrote with a big circle around it.

He laughed. Savannah did, too, but, again, in a strange nervous and restrained demeanor.

“That’s a nice story,” I said. “So if you’re ready to quit bullshitting with me, and tell the truth, I’m ready,” I spoke in a playful yet no-nonsense tone. “How’d you do it?”

“You’re good, man,” Will said with a smile, pointing his finger at me. “Like a true journalist.”

Any other day I’d be pleased to hear that, but I was serious. I needed to know, so much that I’d forgotten how long I’d actually been here. I told myself I was gonna leave as soon as I could, but now, for some reason after talking with Will and seeing how personable and genuine he came off, he put me a bit at ease. Maybe I was blowing this out of proportion. But then the screams echoed in my head again, and the smell...

“You’re not gonna tell me, are you?” I said.

“Look, I wish I could, honestly, but if I did, Jeffrey may not be too happy with either of us,” Will responded sincerely. That much was true, I could tell.

“All right, I think I tortured you enough,” I said, then immediately regretted my choice of words.

“No worries, man. Nice meetin’ ya. Good luck with the blog.”

“Thanks.”

I looked at Savannah one last time, and she looked back with a serious and almost scary gaze as though she needed to tell me something very bad. That’s who I came back for anyways. But that opportunity was a lost cause now, as I left with nothing and still no understanding of how Gemini Films did their visual effects? And I lost my mother’s ring. Fuck, I didn’t have time to go get it right now. I didn’t wanna risk being seen again. Hopefully, Jeffrey keeps his word and they somehow manage to give it back. That being said, I'd be fine with not having to see him ever again.

Whose blood was that? Whose body was that in the dumpster? Was it real? Was it actually just that well made to where the average person could be fooled into thinking it was actual flesh? Who’d go through the trouble of all that?

The screams of losing your life inch by inch, the sounds that would haunt me forever. And the smell of what was inside that bag. That instinctual gut feeling… how was it not real?

#writing #story #horror #nosleep #horror stories

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