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yutahoes · 3 years ago

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Love and Letter

pairing : college student! Yuta Nakamoto x secret admirer

word count : 4.5k words

genre : fluff

summary : A series of letters melt the anti-love’s heart.

warnings : cursing

For the “...dear you” collab hosted by @theje0ngs 😄

I had fun writing for this story. I’m sorry if I posted this early, I’m just so excited to show this to you. Please enjoy and leave feedback. 😁

Nakamoto Yuta. The perfect embodiment of the rebel guy moms would always remind young girls to get away from. Pierced ears, long hair that defies the school rule, a scowl on his face as if hating everyone which he does. A total rebel that is feared by students and teachers alike. The classic bad guy who never showed up for classes, only staying a minute for attendance roll call then skipping.

And he wanted it to stay like this for the whole year.

Why does he have to attend Creative Literature class when he’s not even a Literature major? Annoyed, he pushed the door of his locker and was startled when a piece of paper fell from the said locker. His name was written in front in cursive form. To say that he’s not intrigued is a total lie but he waited until he was seated in class when he unfolded the paper.

‘Hi, Yuta.

Please don’t be alarmed, I’m not a bad person.

I notice you a lot in the school hallways and honestly, you’re a little scary.

I know you’re a nice person. Please lighten up a bit.

XOXO,🍎’

A chuckle escaped his lips. Just a little scary? Him? A nice person? Isn’t this weird? Who in their right mind would make an absurd letter like this?

But a smile escaped his lips as his mind drifted on the letter in his pocket. Should he start smiling more? Talk to some classmates? Maybe he can find out who wrote the letter. Fuck, this is so dangerous.

Although it is ultimately different from his usual aura, he greeted the discipline director waiting by the school gate. He also gave a bow to the teachers he passed, smiling lightly at his classmates he only recognized by faces. They were obviously surprised at the sudden shift in his attitude but greeted him as well. By lunchtime, he was hanging out with the guys in his Physics class and laughing at their jokes.

‘I don’t know if you received my letter the first time but I noticed that you’ve been a little brighter and that you’ve been hanging out with some friends.

That’s nice.

I’m happy to see you happier.

Thank you for making my days brighter, Yuta.

XOXO,🍎’

Yuta smiled. But it was the letter sender who made his days brighter. Does that person like him so much? Or is this something that is made up? He doesn’t want to know but he liked the feeling of receiving the letter.

He’s used to it by now, saying good morning to the school guard and the discipline director before entering the school gate. He would smile at the other students who were early for class, even helping some with their things.

Every morning, he would pass by the school’s soccer field. His turf back in high school. If only he continued playing soccer, maybe he can be a part of the team and defeat these guys with terrible form. He smiled while rubbing the back of his head, walking to where the Arts building is. Soccer isn’t for him.

‘Do you like Messi?

I noticed you’ve always stopped by the soccer field every morning.

Maybe you can try out for the soccer team. Didn’t you use to play for the team back in high school?

It will be cool to see you play again.

XOXO,🍎’

He glanced around to see if someone was watching him read the letter but the students are busy with their own things. That person knows that he plays soccer back in high school? Is that person a schoolmate from before? But he’ll have a hard time locating who it is considering that he went to a local high school near the university.

Is this a sign from above? Should he really try out for soccer? He did miss the feeling of the ball in his feet, the smell of the grassy field, and the excitement it brought him. Why did he even stop playing for a girl who never cared about him?

With the letter in his pocket, Yuta got accepted in the soccer team. The coach even thanked him repeatedly for changing his mind, claiming that he had been coaxing Yuta into applying since his freshman days. The guy only smiled, rubbing his head while apologizing. “The soccer golden boy is back.” And he is. He’s happy to be back.

But training is so tedious that it startled him. Back in high school, training is such a piece of cake. Why did you have to run fifty laps around the field now? Maybe his body is really startled that for the first time in his college life, he got sick. For two days, he skipped school and just stay at home to rest. Now, he’s debating if playing soccer is all worth it. Should he quit? But he just started. Can his body take on this intense training?

His friends were greeting him when he returned to school. The other guys from the soccer team teasing him that it’s like that at the first time but he’ll get over this. Hopefully, he will. There isn’t a letter in his locker that made him feel odd. Well, what did he expect? Maybe it already stopped. But he kinda liked it. Even looking forward to it every morning.

“Dude, you have to attend creative literature tomorrow.” Jungwoo, one of his classmates on the said subject claimed. “We already paired for the project. Your partner seemed really down.”

Yuta laughed at that. “Who is my partner?”

“Y/N. She always comes early in class, sitting on the back row.”

“A girl? Can’t I pair up with you instead?” He revolted quickly that made his friend reason out that nothing will be done if they pair up for the project even asking him the golden question of all, ‘Why are you so scared of girls?’ But Yuta just shrugged, not wanting to explain it to him.

‘An apple a day keeps the doctor away.

I’m glad you’re feeling fine and that you’re back in class.

Also, the apple juice from the vendo machine tastes great.

I hope you’re not allergic to apples.’

XOXO,🍎’

Funny, that person will say that. He isn’t. And it’s not bad to try it out.

When he entered the room for their creative literature class, he immediately saw the girl Jungwoo was describing with her face buried in the book. Why is he even scared of talking to a girl?

Yuta breathed hard before sitting beside her. “Y/N? Am I correct?” He asked which made the girl turn to him. Yuta handed her the same apple juice he’s drinking. “I’m Yuta Nakamoto and we’re partners for the project?”

The girl nodded, thanking him for the drink. “It’s an epistolary piece we should make…”

“Epis…? What?”

She lightly giggled at that which made him stare. “Epistolary.” She said emphasizing all syllables. “It’s a letter-type fiction. We write a story using letters.” Yuta nodded at that. Letters. “I have the idea already but since it’s a pair project, I can’t start on it until I show you.”

Can’t she show it now? Can she just do the project without his help or without talking to each other? “Do you want to discuss it after class? I’ll be in the library if…”

“I have soccer practice.” He immediately said that made her stop. He gave her his phone, asking if they can just talk through messages that made her nod, typing her number in. The moment she returned the phone, he immediately stood up to talk to his friend, Taeyong, in the first row.

---------

“You just ditched her?” Taeyong asked that made Yuta ruffle his hair. He shouldn’t have told him. “That’s a pair project, Nakamoto. You’ll both get a zero if you don’t cooperate.”

Yuta showed the text message he shared with Y/N. “She said she’ll just do it. She’s smart. She can do it.”

The other shook his head. “Why can’t you just talk to her? Y/N isn’t bad. The thing you’re scared of with girls. I’m sure Y/N isn’t like that.” He raised an eyebrow at him. “All I’m saying is that you should stop being this total jerk on her. He’s not like your ex, Yuta.” That took his attention. How did he know that? “There are talks around.” But before he could ask him to elaborate, Taeyong turned a sharp left.

The rain was falling hard that made Yuta sigh while taking out his umbrella. Soccer practice ended early because of the muddy ground that made him hate the rain. Today, of all days? He just returned from sickness and yet there’s no training. As he neared the steps of the building, he saw a familiar girl with her hand held out in the pouring rain. “Y/N.” he called.

The girl gave him a timid smile before returning to what she was doing. Weird. Does she love the rain so much? “Do you have an umbrella?” He asked that made her shake her head. “Do you want to share? I can walk you to the bus stop.”

“It’s fine, Yuta.” Y/N whispered while shaking her head. Once again, she started playing with the droplets of rain. Truly odd. Maybe Taeyong is right, she really is different. Yuta handed the umbrella that startled her, “Yuta!” But he was already running in the rain. Shit, he might get sick again with this.

‘It’s been raining non-stop this past few days. It’s so gloomy.

Also, I learned a new word today.

Niwakaame.

Isn’t it Japanese?

Rain Shower.

I love the rain shower.

How about you? I hope you don’t hate the rain as much.

It helps water the plants, you know?

XOXO,🍎’

A giggle escaped his lips. It does, doesn’t it?

He just had a reason to like the rain.

Since soccer practices had been on hold because of the rainy weather, he would always find himself in the library working on that epistolary piece with Y/N. She would always type her ideas and he would check if it was alright. But really, what does he know about all of this?

He was just thankful that she became his partner, she's really smart and creative. He'll probably pass creative literature with ease because of her help. Another thing is that she never talks when she's in front of her laptop and he was thankful that she's saving them from awkwardness.

He put on the straw of the apple juice before slipping it beside her notebook. Yuta returned to his comic book when he heard her say in a soft voice, "I didn't know you like apples." Yeah, he honestly didn't know that he did either.

‘Soccer is such a boring sport for me before. Why does it take so long for players to score a goal?

But watching you play, scoring that goal in the last minute, I’ve never felt that thrill and happiness before.

Congratulations!

And if no one told you this before, I guess I’ll have to tell you now.

You are really cool, Yuta Nakamoto!

XOXO,🍎’

The class was cheering with excitement when Yuta entered the room, everyone was congratulating him for the amazing game. He beamed happily, thanking them as he poked a straw to the apple juice he was holding and putting it on Y/N’s table but she didn’t even look at him and was just typing in front of her laptop.

“You’re being chummy with her.” Taeyong claimed while elbowing his side. “So what’s special about Y/N that she’s the only girl you talk to?”

Yuta had to laugh, voice resonating to the whole room. Instead of the professor, it was the TA who came for class. He just asked them to talk with their partners that made the class scrambled on their seats. Yuta sat beside Y/N who kept on typing in her laptop as if not caring about anything. “Y/N.” He called softly. “Are you alright?”

The girl almost screamed when Yuta held her shoulder. “Yuta?” She called then stared around. “I’m sorry. Is the class starting?” She immediately put down the screen of her laptop while biting her thumb.

“The prof isn’t here. The TA just wanted the pairs to talk about the idea.” She whispered an ‘oh, I see’ before putting out her laptop which opened a document. “You seemed busy.”

“Paper due today.” She answered while typing, bouncing her legs while she bit her lip.

The TA started walking around the room to see what the students are doing which made Y/N close the document, groaning when she failed to save it. The girl bumped her head to the desk that surprised Yuta. “You can type your paper and pretend to listen to me.” Yuta suggested that made her look at him. There were tears in her eyes. “Just pretend that I’m telling you the story.”

Y/N wiped her eyes then breathed hard before opening her laptop to start with her work. Yuta smiled when she started typing words on her laptop. “Someone is giving me letters.” But her typing didn’t stop and he wondered if she was even listening to him. “I don’t know why but that person gives me comfort all the time.” The TA approached their table and she started typing at a slow pace as he continued talking to her, “I always wait for that person’s letters every morning.”

When the TA passed, Y/N returned to her usual typing that made Yuta shrug and just watch as she focused on her work. Maybe she isn’t interested in hearing his story but it feels good that he got this chance to tell someone about the mystery sender always giving him smiles. He placed his head on the table, facing her. “I hope you meet your letter sender, superstar.” Y/N said without looking away from her laptop. And he wished he did too.

‘Ureshii.

I’m happy you’re always happy, Yuta.

I’m happy to hear your laugh echo in our room. I’m happy to see you smiling at everyone you pass by.

I’m happy you’re coming to class and enjoying soccer.

I’m really happy for you, Yuta.

XOXO,🍎’

A smirk appeared on his lips, so this person is in the same class as him? He usually passes by this person as well. He really wants to see this person once and thank him or her.

A thought passed his mind. What if the sender is a girl? Can he actually talk to her? Maybe not. This is probably better. That he’s curious about the mystery letter sender.

It was the midterm week. Everyone is super busy with the things they have to do, college life is so fast-paced that it scared Yuta. He’s used to getting left behind but what if he gets too left behind? He’s not super smart, not even studious. And a failing grade meant an automatic expulsion from the soccer team which he slowly grew to love. He should just be back from his usual rebel phase.

The thing he was scared of happened because of Math, specifically Trigonometry. He had to admit that he was blank the whole time, the result of not going to class during the first few months of school. What’s more annoying is seeing everyone’s score on the bulletin board and his fifteen points in Math.

“Take a tutorial class and retake the exam. It isn’t that hard.” The soccer coach said. “I don’t want to expel you in the team, golden boy.” But most of the tutors are all girls which scared him the most. Yet he didn’t want to fail.

As he skimmed the possible Math tutors to help him, his eyes fell on one specific girl that he knew who could help him. The only girl he could talk to.

‘Keep your head up.

It’s Math. It is naturally hard.

Don’t beat yourself up instead focus on what you did.

You solved an entire equation, fifteen of it and that’s admirable already.

Keep it up, Yuta! You’ve done a great job.

XOXO,🍎’

“This answer is wrong, superstar.” Y/N claimed, circling her pencil to the number two which Yuta got as an answer. The guy looked at it curiously, sighing hard while bumping his head on the table that earned looks from everyone inside the coffee shop. The girl had to giggle at him before closing her book, “We can rest if you want.”

Yuta followed her by closing the book then drank his apple juice that made her shake her head. “Y/N, do you remember the letter sender I told you about?” He asked before leaning his head on top of the books. The girl only nodded in answer. “Should I meet him?”

“Him? Your mystery sender is a guy?”

The guy shrugged. “But I want to think that the sender is a he so I won’t get too nervous.” But Y/N only gave him a confused look. “I’m not good with talking to girls. I mean, I’m really scared of holding a conversation with them especially after I broke up with my girlfriend.” Yuta breathed before continuing, “She gets jealous even if I just smile at another girl and maybe that was when the trauma started. When we broke up, I just can’t shake it off. I feel like it’s wrong for me to be talking to a girl.”

Y/N nodded. “Well, you just told that whole sentence to me. And I’m a girl.”

“Oh shit!” Yuta exclaimed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t be offended.” Y/N shook her head, smiling at him. “I think you’re really pretty and smart.”

“You think I’m friendly?” He gave her a confused look. Friendly? But he clearly said pretty. Yuta chuckled before nodding at her.

It was Y/N’s idea to give the mystery sender a response in a form of a letter, just Yuta saying that he’s thankful for the letters the sender gave him. He even shared how he liked Keisuke Honda better than Messi, how he thinks the apple juice from the vendo machine is the best drink there is in school, and how he started to think of the rain in a better light. He thanked the sender for encouraging him to study Math and the support he got from playing soccer. By the end of the letter, he told the sender that he will wait in a coffee shop to meet him or her so he can properly thank him or her.

"Y/N!" Yuta called while running in the hallway to where she was. He kept bumping on other students, apologizing quickly to them. "Y/N! He took the letter." She shrugged, looking at him confused. "Do you think he'll come to the coffee shop and meet me?"

"Did you tell her that?" He leaned beside your locker while she took out books for her consecutive classes.

Yuta nodded, taking her books for him to carry. "I'm nervous. What should I do?" Y/N was startled at the action. "What if the sender is a she? How can I even talk to her?"

The girl giggled. "Like how you're talking to me, Yuta."

He stopped walking and she was steps ahead when she noticed Yuta was gone. "Can you come with me later?"

Y/N sighed, shaking her head at him. “You can do this, superstar.”

--------

Yuta was so nervous that he kept on ordering water to ease his nerves. Every time the chimes of the door ring, he would stare at the door and hope that it was the letter sender. He lightly glanced at his wristwatch, it's been an hour. Will that person even come?

He's in his fifth cup of coffee, almost two hours have passed since the time he told the person in the letter. Yuta had already given up. Maybe she wouldn't come. He was about to stand up when Jungwoo came inside the coffee shop and sat in front of him. The younger guy handed him a folded piece of paper, "Someone wants to give you this."

"You know who it is?"

He nodded, "I saw her putting the letter in your locker once." Her? "But Yuta please know that she has her reasons why she doesn't want you to meet her."

"Can you just tell me who she is?" Jungwoo shook his head, apologizing before standing up to leave Yuta alone.

‘I received your letter and I’m so sorry for not coming to meet you.

I’m scared. I don’t know why but I am.

I don’t want to erase your smile when you find out that this is just me, I appreciate your letter, I really do.

And I’ll treasure it all my life. Thank you, Yuta. I’m sorry.

XOXO,🍎’

That's it? He won't get to know who she was. He cannot thank her for giving him something to look forward to every time. Is it possible to have your heart broken before it can even beat for a person?

Creative Literature class. Today is the last day of submitting the epistolary piece he and Y/N had been working on. He did the usual morning routine, go to the vendo and pick up a juice for him and her. But he can't seem to find the courage to push the button for the apple one so he settled to the orange-flavored juice. "Shit!" he cursed. He never knew Y/N's favorite juice flavor. He would always give her the apple flavored one. So with a heavy heart, he settled on the apple one.

Weird, he thought. It's almost time and Y/N isn't here yet. Taeyong entered the room and placed a folder in front of Yuta. "Y/N wanted to give you this." He was startled. There's always something fishy about Taeyong and Y/N so he asked him the question that's always bugging him. The other guy chuckled, "We're cousins, stupid." Taeyong supplied that made Yuta nod. He didn't know that.

"Where is she?" Yuta asked while opening the folder. There's a page full of computerized words, the story she wrote. "Is she sick?" Five pages of the story and on the last page, hers and his names are written in her handwriting.

"She didn't tell you?" Yuta shook his head in a questioning manner. "She's going to New York for the Exchange Student Program. It's her flight today."

Yuta skimmed the contents of the epistolary piece she made then focused on the handwriting. Why did it take him so long to realize everything? Taeyong called for his name but he was already outside the door of their classroom. He heard Jungwoo calling him but he was already out of the gates and hailed a cab. "Airport. Please step on it."

He took out the letters that he kept in his notebook, nine different letters to be exact. Yuta smiled seeing the hidden message in the letters. She cannot hide from him anymore. "Where are you?" Yuta asked when she answered the phone, his foot stepped inside the crowded airport.

"Airport?" He answered 'I know', "Gate four."

"Wait for me there." She called for his name but he was already running to where she was, putting the phone in his pocket. "Y/N!" he called which made the girl turn to where he is. He lightly bowed at her parents, asking if he can talk to Y/N for a while.

"It's you, isn't it? The letters." He asked which made the girl stop. "Why didn't you just tell me?" Then he shook his head. "After confessing, you're just going to leave me?"

The girl giggled at that. "It's just for two months, don't overreact." The guy breathed hard. "Did Jungwoo tell you?"

"I saw the pattern with the epistolary you did. Saw how you wrote my name and realized you never told me the juice you wanted and just went with the apple juice I always gave you." The girl smiled then he showed the nine letters he was holding. "Why the hell are you so smart that you have to put a secret message in your letters?" The girl giggled.

The announcement for the plane passengers heading to New York can be heard, "I have to board, Yuta. I'll see you when…"

But he pulled her closer, wrapping her in his arms. "I like you too, Y/N." A final call for the passengers can be heard and he hesitatingly let go of her. "I'll message you every day." Y/N nodded before saying goodbye to him and her parents, facing the boarding gate without even looking back.

----

Nakamoto Yuta. The perfect embodiment of the soccer superstar every university wanted to have. The model student who greets everyone, female or male, when he passes by them in the hallways. The loyal boyfriend who only has eyes for one girl.

He couldn't believe only a month had passed. He misses her so much even if the time they spent together is much longer than the time they're away from each other.

A normal day, a normal scenario for him. He quickly went to his locker to get his books for Physics class when a piece of paper fell, making his heart race.

'Did you miss me, my soccer superstar?

How many girls have fallen for that smile?

Or are you just smiling for me?

If you do, Room 3F.

XOXO, Y/N'

He slammed his locker shut then passed by the vendo machine to get an apple juice, even tapping his foot when it took a long time to go down. Yuta ran to the third floor, catching his breath when he's outside room 3F.

The moment he opened the door, a pair of arms wrapped around his neck. "Hi, Yuta." She greeted that made him smile.

She's here. She's really here.

"Why didn’t you tell me you’re back?” But he just wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her tight. “And I was complaining last night about missing you.”

Y/N giggled. “That’s why I went home early. I heard you’re famous with the ladies lately.” Yuta sighed, bopping her nose while teasing her for being so jealous. “Too bad we don’t have the same class together.”

The guy chuckled worriedly. “Well, you know I had to skip class that day and go to you to the airport.” Y/N nodded. “I didn’t submit our project so the professor gave us a zero.”

“What?”

Yuta laughed, shrugging. “On the bright side, we’re going to attend the same class in summer.”

And he knew, from her grin, his anti-love phase is over.

tagging : @jenosdaemi @notworthit24 @smrutiisiva-13 @justpeachygirl @notmejustmymind

I know someone is going to ask me about the secret message in the letters but I’ll let you discover it. 😁

#...dear you collab #yuta #yuta nakamoto #nakamoto yuta #yuta fluff #yuta nakamoto fluff #nakamoto yuta fluff

251 notes · View notes

tainted-wine · 5 years ago

Text

I hope you don’t mind this being exclusive for the Pro-Heroes!

(NSFW)

Papers? Check. Writing utensils? Check. Lube? Check.

You were primed and ready to begin this cocktastic journey. Completing this project will be a great benefit to Thirstology. You can’t believe that they put their trust in you to collect such valuable information from several willing participants. There’s no way you’re going to let the people at National Thirst Studies down.

With your lower body completely bare, you and your ambitious pussy set out to begin the cockwarming interviews.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Pre-Notes: The Symbol of Peace. It’s still surreal to see him in such a fragile state. Strangely enough, I never once asked myself: Does All Might fuck? “Obviously he was too pure for fucking,” is what I would have said before I devoted my life to Thirst Studies. But I have learned over the years that there is no such thing as purity.

------

After he got over the initial shock of you wearing no pants or underwear, you were finally able to begin your study and ask him the main question.

You barely dodged the spray of blood spewing out of his mouth. “Am I into what?” He sputtered.

“Cockwarming, sir. The act of settling a penis in a nice cozy orifice. There’s no movement, only penetration. Surely you already at least knew the definition when you agreed to this?” You offered him a paper towel, which he accepted with a choked “thank you.”

“Midnight told me this would be about intimate relationships,” he anxiously explained while wiping the red off of his lips. “But I wasn’t expecting to hear something that graphic.”

Ah, so he was talked into this. “Well, with your permission, I can give you a personal demonstration.”

His answer was inaudible the first time; you had to ask him to speak up in order to hear his adorably high “yes.” He was a lot shyer than you imagined. Poor guy was shaking like he was on a verge of a heart attack when you took his cock out and boy, did he put the ‘long’ in ‘schlong.’ But your mission wasn’t to admire the dick’s appearance, it was to learn how their owners used them inside a hot snatch. You climbed onto him and lowered yourself and ooooh shit, both of you were moaning as his inches sank into you. You couldn’t take it all, but it was more than enough to get the job done.

“Mmnngh, yes, very long. Pushing almost painfully,” You said through clenched teeth, scribbling in your notepad as you sat semi-comfortably in his lap. “Can you give me your input, Toshinori? How is this feeling for you?”

“Blrraaaffggg.”

“Toshi?”

“…”

He laid limp in the interview chair as crimson liquid continued to flow from his mouth. Well, this is troublesome. You’ll have to wait for him to regain consciousness to hear his feedback.

------

Conclusion: This was his first time experiencing cockwarming. He described it as ‘intense, but not unpleasant’. Unfortunately, whenever I ask for more details, he would get too embarrassed to share anything. Frankly, this isn’t the most fruitful start to my series of interviews, but it was a great privilege to meet the amazing All Might.

Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhead

Pre-Notes: I honestly don’t even know who the hell this is. An underground hero, apparently. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that he brought a cat with him. I told him that it needs to stay outside during the interview, but the difficult bastard was ready to turn around and leave unless I allowed the furball in. What a hassle. Do I even want to sit on this man?

------

You’re thankful that you did, in fact, sit on this man. His sleek ebony cat was relaxing in your lap while your pink kitty was stuffed with his cock. Despite his indifference to the situation, it was strangely intimate. Taking notes over a cute feline while his length twitched inside you was rather challenging.

“You seem like a rather exhausted fellow. Is it maybe the laid-back nature of the act that you find so alluring?” You asked.

“Mmhmm.” His arms circled around you to stroke his adorable pet.

“Being able to just wind down by giving your hard snake a wet hot crib to rest in?”

“Mmmmm.”

“I would appreciate a more elaborate answer.”

“Mmmmm...”

You shifted just enough to turn your head and see Aizawa’s head lolled back, his breaths getting heavier after each exhale. You can feel him quickly going soft inside you.

Ugh...

------

Conclusion: Given that he fell asleep in the middle of the demonstration, it’s safe to say that he finds the act very relaxing. I can only make guesses because the moment he woke up, he hurried me off his lap, picked up his cat and headed out. I did my best to chase him and ask if I could at least hear his final thoughts, but that bastard leaps on cars and buildings as skillfully as Edgeshot.

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic

Pre-Notes: I’m not sure what to expect from the Voice Hero. His radio show has hosted some surprisingly insightful interviews. Unlike the last two, he will hopefully have some truly constructive answers to give.

------

“Not gonna lie, I always wanted to try this!”

Both of you were red in the face as you sat on his throbbing cock. Despite the blush and slight shake in his voice, he was as cheerful as ever. “Sometimes I just wonder, it would be pretty cool to just have a hottie warmin’ me up during my show, ya dig? No sex, though. I know I’m not quiet enough to get away with that on the air!” He laughed loudly right into your ear.

Well that kinda hurt, but it’s nice to finally have a fully cooperative interviewee. You were actually able to ask all of your planned questions for once, and Hizashi gave a satisfying answer to each one.

Unfortunately, it just couldn’t go perfectly, and his phone ended up ringing near the end of the interview.

“Hold on, listener. I gotta take this.”

Did he really? You wished he would wait until you were done.

You felt him lean back as you remained on his lap. “Shouta, buddy! What’s goin’ on?”

Shouta? Does he mean...?

“Sorry about that! I’m not home yet, I’m doin’ a...special interview, with a hard-working thirstologist.” You heard the voice on the other end respond, and Hizashi made a noise of confusion. “Eh? What do you mean ‘you too?’”

Oh dear, he does. They actually know each other.

The conversation quickly transformed into an argument, a loud one. The two heroes apparently have some...tension between them.

“Oh, so I throw hints at you for years and you act as innocent as your cats, but you’ll sit down and let a girl hop on your dick during an interview?!”

You had to lift yourself off of his softening member and take shelter from his booming voice. He was tucking himself back into his pants with one hand as he marched out of the room, but his hurt and anger was still loud and clear. “Don’t give me that bull. I bet if I hit you with twenty one questions about cockwarming, you’d just pretend you’re asleep! Oh, you actually did fall asleep? Huh.”

You awkwardly collected your notes as the two gentlemen were seemingly making up.

“Damn right I’ve always felt this way. Oh man, you better get ready tonight because I’ve got over ten years of pent up feelings, and you’re gonna take it all.”

------

Conclusion: It feels good to have a full interview. In summary, Hizashi is intrigued by the combination of closeness and casualness of it all. His interest in cockwarming during his jobs also indicate a possible thrill out of doing it in public. In addition, I’d like to announce with some pride that I may have assisted in taking two friends to the next level of their relationship.

Hawks

Pre-Notes: I’m eager to hear what the handsome winged hero has to say. I wouldn’t mind if we just stare at each other throughout the entire interview. My lust for him is unbearably strong and I’m not sure why. It’s probably just the horny writer’s obvious bias towards this bird. She could use another hobby.

------

Hawks laughed once you gave him the question that officially begins the interview. “Gotta admit, I’ve actually never tried it.”

That’s a surprise that you quickly jot down in your notes. “I see. Is it something you’re interested in trying? I can give you a demonstration right here.”

“Oh? I’d love one.”

You try not to look too excited as you leave your seat and move to undo his pants, but Hawks raises a hand.

“But I want you to do it on your knees.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “My knees? How do I-”

“With your mouth.”

Oh my.

You granted his request and kneeled down to take his half-hard cock into your mouth.

“Ahhh, that’s nice.” He sighed loudly, spreading his legs more as he stared down at you.

You detached your mouth from him to speak. “Can you tell me what it is that you-mmffrrf.”

A hand pushed you back down onto his man meat. “No no no, just...stay right there. I’ll do the talking in a minute.”

You sat there with his cock growing in the heat of your mouth. Hawks’s eyes were closed, a small content smile on his face. Every time you lifted your head just an inch, the hand on your head pressed you back down. Just when this interview was starting to feel more like a hookup, he finally began to talk.

“Oh yeah, I’ve fantasized stuff like this. You got a shitty boss? I do, don’t tell them I said that, though. They’re always finding something to get on my ass about. Working me like a dog everyday, expecting me to pull off these insane missions flawlessly.”

All you could do was look up and listen to his rant. He must have loved the sight of you, going by the strong twitch of his length in your mouth.

“They just keep asking more and more from me. ‘Do this faster next time, Hawks!’ or ‘I know you’ve never done something like this before, but don’t fail us, Hawks!’ Sometimes I just wanna shove something in their mouths...like my dick. Can you relate?”

You shook your head as well as you could in your current position.

He shrugged. “Oh well. As far as I know, I’ll always be the one getting fucked by them. But something like this...” He pat your head. “Ah yeah, it would be so nice to see them like this...”

------

Conclusion: Hawks was sadly short on time and had to leave before I could even get into the questions. Going by the very personal feelings and frustrations he shared, Hawks enjoys the dominance displayed from cockwarming, and prefers it be done orally. I will respect his wishes and not reveal any of the opinions that he shared about the establishment he works for and its executives.

Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fat Gum

Pre-Notes: It’s best that I continue to be honest: I’m anxious. Fat Gum is one of the biggest heroes around, and I just know that there is a deadly pillar of pussy destruction in those pants. I know that I should be more concerned with the questions, but it just won’t leave my mind.

------

“So, what experience do you have with this, Toyomitsu?”

The large man chuckled. He was currently in his skinny form, which you’re pretty thankful for since his fat form would have been beyond awkward to straddle. That would be like trying to hump one of those giant inflatable characters at parades. “A pretty lady I knew was really into it! I tried it for her sake, but I’ll say this with no ego, my sausage ain’t something to be taken lightly! Still, she was determined, and I was really digging just how strong her will was to take me.”

‘She sounds like a very brave soul,‘ you thought as your pen glided across your paper.

“I couldn’t believe it when she managed to get all of me inside. She couldn’t either, because she passed out! At first I just wanted to laugh it off,” he cackled as if to give an example, but his face quickly drooped into a somber expression. “But then I realized she wasn’t breathing...” His eyes shut in pain and sorrow. “And I couldn’t find a pulse...”

You nearly dropped your pen in horror. “My goodness, Toyomitsu. I’m so sor-”

“I’m just messin’ with ya! She’s fine!” His face immediately brightened up again, leaving you shocked and somewhat upset over the scare. “But seriously, if you want a seat on this big boy, I hope you’ve got plenty of lube on hand.”

“Don’t worry, I do. More than enough for the biggest flesh towers.”

But your doubts instantly returned when the bulging monster was freed from his pants. It’s huge. Toshinori may have been long, but this monster was unbelievable in both length and girth.

Your fear must have been evident on your face, because Toyomitsu asked, “You sure you wanna do this? Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You whipped out your bottle of lube and drenched your hands. “Thirstology is my passion. My life’s work. I am more than willing to put my life on the line for science.”

The hero raised an eyebrow. “It’s...not that serious, but I really like your guts, missy.” He gave himself a few strokes. “So let me tear them up.”

Even with the coatings of lube inside your pussy and on his massive cock, this was still the most arduous task you have ever performed in your life. You didn’t know it was possible to be stretched this far. The light blonde was mesmerized by your trembles and scrunched expressions and as you tried to take more of him, his mouth slightly open when he noticed the swell in your lower abdomen.

“Oh, that is hot.”

------

Conclusion: I did it. I took the Fat Gun. Fat Gum himself takes a lot of pleasure in watching the strain of someone trying to take him in, and due to his partner often being much smaller than him, the tightness is very pleasurable to him. He was the only interviewee that actually came during the demonstration, so I suppose it’s safe to say that he is the biggest fan of cockwarming out of the five. He was very panicked when he came inside me, but I reassured him that I am on the pill. This is still a hell of a mess to clean up, however.

(I hope the information I have obtained will be useful for the institute. Thank you for giving me this opportunity)

#asks #smut #all might #shouta aizawa #hawks #present mic #fatgum #yagi toshinori #keigo takami #yamada hizashi #i got more invested in this as i went on #also how the hell do you write fatgum

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lokiondisneyplus · 3 years ago

Text

Natalie Holt's timeline was turned upside down last fall when she landed the highly-coveted composer gig for Marvel Studios' Loki series on Disney+.

"My agent got a general call-out looking for a composer on a Marvel project," she tells SYFY WIRE during a conversation over Zoom. "So, I didn’t know what it was. It was [described as] spacey and quite epic ... I sent in my show reel and then got an interview and got sent the script and then I realized what it was for. I was like, ‘Oh my god!’ It was amazing ... Loki was already one of my favorite characters, so I was really stoked to get to give him a theme and flesh him out in this way."

***WARNING! The following contains certain plot spoilers for the first four episodes of Loki!***

Imbued with glorious purpose, Holt knew the score had to match the show's gonzo premise about the Time Variance Authority, an organization that secretly watches over and manages every single timeline across the Marvel multiverse. The proposition of such an out-there sci-fi concept inspired the composer to bring in uniquely strange sounds, courtesy of synthesizers and a theremin.

"I got my friend, Charlie Draper, to play the theremin on my pitch that I had to do," she recalls. "They gave me a scene to score, which I’m sure they gave to loads of other composers. It was the Time Theater sequence in Episode 1. The bit from where he goes up the elevator and then into the Time Theater ... I just went to town on it and I wanted to impress them and win the job and put as many unusual sounds in there and make it as unique as possible."

The end result was a weird, borderline unnatural sound that wouldn't have felt out of place in a 1950s sci-fi B-movie about big-headed alien invaders. Rather than being turned off by Holt's avant garde ideas, Marvel Studios head honcho Kevin Feige embraced them, only giving the composer a single piece of feedback: "Push it further."

Holt admits that she was slightly influenced by Thor: Ragnarok ("I loved the score for it and everything"), which wasn't afraid to lean into the wild, Jack Kirby-created ideas floating around Marvel's cosmic locales. Director Taika Waititi's colorful and bombastic set pieces were perfectly complimented by an '80s-inspired score concocted by Devo co-founder, Mark Mothersbaugh.

"To be honest, I tried not to listen to it on its own," Holt says of the Ragnarok soundtrack. "I didn’t want to be too influenced by it. I watched the film a couple of times a few years ago, so yeah, I don’t think I was heavily referencing it. But I definitely had a memory of it in my mind."

After boarding Loki last September, Holt spent the next six months (mostly in lockdown) crafting a soundtrack that would perfectly reflect the titular god of mischief played by Tom Hiddleston. One of the first things she came up with was the project's main theme — a slightly foreboding cue that pays homage to the temporal nature of the TVA, as well as the main character's flair for the dramatic. "He always does things with a lot of panache and flair, and he’s very classical in his delivery."

She describes it as an "over-the-top grand theme with these ornate flourishes" that plays nicely with Loki's Shakespearean aura. "I wanted those ornaments and grand gestures in what I was doing. Then I also wanted to reflect that slightly analog world of the TVA where everything has lots of knobs and buttons ... [I wanted to] give it that slightly grainy, faded [and] vintage-y sci-fi sound as well."

"I just wanted it to feel like it had this might and weight — like there was something almost like a requiem about it," Holt continues. "These chords that are really powerful and strident and then they’ve got this blinking [sound] over the top. I just came up with that when I was walking down the street and I hummed it into my phone. There’s a video where you can just see up my nose and I’m humming [the theme]. I came home and I played it."

As a classically-trained musician, Holt drew on her love of Mahler, Dvořák, Beethoven, Mozart, and most importantly, Wagner. A rather fitting decision, given that an actual Valkyrie (played by Tessa Thompson) exists within the confines of the MCU.

"I would say those flourishes over the top of the Loki theme are very much Wagner," Holt says. "They’re like 'Ride of the Valkyries.’ I wanted people to kind of recall those big, classical, bombastic pieces and I wanted to give that weight to Loki’s character. That was very much a conscious decision to root it in classical harmony and classical writing ... There’s a touch of the divine to the TVA. It’s in charge of everything, so that’s why those big powerful chords [are there]. I wanted people almost to be knocked off their socks when they heard it."

With the main theme in place, Holt could then play around with it in different styles, depending on the show's different narrative needs. Two prime examples are on display in the very first episode during Miss Minutes' introductory video and the flashback that reveals Loki to be the elusive D.B. Cooper.

"What was really fun was [with] each episode, I got to pull it away and do a samba version of the theme or do a kind of ‘50s sci-fi version of the theme," she explains. "I can’t say other versions of the theme because they’re in Episode 5 and 6…or like when Mobius is pruned, I did this really heartfelt and very emotional [take on the theme] when you see Loki tearing up as he’s going down in slow motion down that corridor. It was cool to have the opportunity to try out so many different styles and genres. And it was big enough to take it all. It was a big enough story."

The other side of the story speaks to the old world grandeur of Loki's royal upbringing on Asgard, a city amongst the stars that eventually found its way into Norse mythology.

"I went to a concert in London three years ago and I heard these Norwegian musicians playing in this group called the Lodestar Trio," Holt recalls. "They do a take on Bach, where they’re kind of giving it a folk-y twist … [They use] a nyckelharpa and a Hardanger fiddle — they’re two historic Norwegian folk instruments. I just remembered that sound and I was like, ‘Oh, I have to use those guys in our score.’ It seemed like the perfect thing. I was like, ‘Yes, the North/Norwegian folk instruments.’ It just felt like it was the perfect thing for his mother and Asgard and his origins."

That folk-inspired sound also helped shape the music for Sylvie (played by Sophia Di Martino), a female variant of Loki with a rather tragic past. "Obviously, we’ve seen in Episode 4 what happened to her as a child," Holt says. "I just feel like she’s so dark. She’s basically grown up living in apocalypses, so she has that Norwegian folk violin sound, but her theme is incredibly dark and menacing and also, you don’t see her. She’s just this dark figure who’s murdering people for a while."

And then there were all the core members of the TVA to contend with. As Holt mentioned above, fans recently lost Agent Mobius (Owen Wilson), may he rest in prune. We mean peace. What? Too soon? During a recent interview with SYFY WIRE, Loki head writer Michael Waldron said that he based Mobius off of Tom Hanks's dogged FBI agent Carl Hanratty in 2002's Catch Me If You Can.

"There’s this thing that he loves jet ski magazines," Holt says. "I had this character in my head and then when I saw Owen Wilson’s performance, I was like, ‘Oh, he’s actually a lot lighter and he plays it in a different way from how I’d imagined.’ But I was listening to Bon Jovi and those slightly rock-y anthemic things. ‘90s rock music for some reason was my Mobius sound palette."

Mobius is pruned on the orders of his longtime friend, Ravonna Renslayer (Gugu Mbatha-Raw), after learning that everyone who works for the TVA is a variant who was unceremoniously plucked out of their original timelines. A high-ranking member of the quantum-based agency, Renslayer has a theme that "is quite tied in with Mobius and it’s like a high organ," Holt adds. "It doesn’t quite know where it’s going yet. But yeah, we’ll have to see what happens with that one."

Wilson's character isn't the only person fed up with the TVA's lies. Hunter B-15 (Wunmi Mosaku) also became disillusioned with the place and allowed Sylvie to escape in the most recent episode

"Hunter B-15 has this moment in Episode 4 where Sylvie shows her her past, her memories. I thought that was a really powerful moment for her," Holt says. I feel like she’s such a fighter and when she comes into the Time-Keepers and she makes that decision, like, ‘I’m switching sides,’ so her theme is more like a drum rhythm. I actually kind of sampled my voice and you can hear that with the drums. I did loads of layers of it, just like this horrible sliding sound with this driving rhythm underneath it. So, that was B-15 and then her softer side when she has her memory given back to her."

Speaking of the Time-Keepers, we finally got to meet the creators of the Sacred Timeline...or at least we thought we did. Loki and Sylvie are shocked to learn that the red-eyed guardians of reality are nothing but a trio of high-end animatronics (ones that could probably be taken out by a raging Nicolas Cage). Even before Sylvie manages to behead one of them, something definitely feels off with the Time-Keepers, which meant Holt could underscore the uncanny valley feeling in the score.

"When they walked in for their audience with the Time-Keepers, it was like this huge gravitas," she says. "But you look up and there’s something a bit wrong about them. I don’t know if you felt that or if you just totally believed. You were like, ‘Oh, this is so strange.’ I just felt like there was something a little bit off and musically, it was fun to play around with that."

Holt is only the second solo female composer to work on an MCU project, following in the footsteps of Captain Marvel's Pinar Toprak. Her involvement with Loki represents the studio's growing commitment to diversity, both in front of and behind the camera. This Friday will see the wide release of Black Widow, the first Marvel film to be helmed solely by a woman (Cate Shortland). Four months after that, Chloé Zhao's Eternals will introduce the MCU's first openly gay character into the MCU.

"I just feel like it’s an honor and a privilege to have had that chance to be the second woman to score a thing in the MCU and to be in the same league as those incredible composers like Mothersbaugh and Alan Silvestri. They're just legends," Holt says. "Another distinctive thing about [the show] is that all the heads of department are pretty much women. Marvel are showing themselves to be really progressive and supportive and encouraging. I applaud [them]. Whatever they’re doing seems to be working and people seem to be liking it as well, so that’s awesome."

Holt's score for Vol. 1 of Loki (aka Episodes 1-3) are now streaming on every music-based platform you could think of. Episodes 1-4 are available to watch on Disney+ for subscribers. Episode 5 (the show's penultimate installment) debuts on the platform this coming Wednesday, July 7.

Natalie isn't able to give up any plot spoilers for the next two episodes (no surprise there), but does tease "the use of a big choir" in one of them. "Episode 6, I’m excited for people to hear it," she concludes. "That’s all I can say."

#Natalie Holt #composer #Loki #OST

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is-it-art-tho · 3 years ago

Text

This is Chapter 9!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8.

Summary: Dick begins the healing process.

By all accounts, Dick should not have survived.

That was what he gleaned from murmured conversations between nurses and snippets of news coverage. His medical records had filled in some blanks, too.

Concussion, multiple fractures, internal hemorrhaging, lacerations, cardiac arrest.

Cardiac arrest. The words had played on a loop in his head ever since his doctor had first said them, and even now Dick couldn’t quite make any sense of it.

The doctor had smiled at him afterwards, informed him of how lucky he was to be alive. “Usually when someone goes into cardiac arrest in the field, they don’t even make it to the hospital,” she’d said. “Good thing Batman was there, huh?”

“Batman?”

“Mhm. EMTs saw him. He must have been doing CPR before they got there.”

“Hm,” was all Dick had offered in response, but internally he had clung to those minor details like a drowning man grasping at driftwood.

The majority of that night was lost to him. Listening to the news helped somewhat, but reporters only knew so much. And none of the others – Barbara, Tim, any of them – had been very forthcoming, either.

Dick hadn’t pressed, though. The haunted look in their eyes whenever they came to visit him in the hospital had been enough for him to decide never to bring that night up again. He already hated that he might have inadvertently become added fodder for future nightmares; no need to throw gas on the fire.

He could live with not-knowing what had happened if it meant keeping them from reliving it.

“Richard?”

The young voice dragged Dick’s gaze away from the curtains he’d been staring at to the doorway. He’d been back at the manor for nearly two days now, in bed mostly, and in that time he had yet to see Damian except for the ride back from the hospital.

Now the boy was standing at the threshold with a tea service in his hands, his mouth curled in an uncertain frown. “Am I… interrupting?”

Dick smirked and made a show of looking around the empty bedroom. “Yeah. I’m pretty swamped here, as you can see.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I know, but it was a dumb question, anyway. You know you’re never interrupting, Damian. C’mon.” Dick waved him in with a jerk of his chin then froze and winced as a jolt of pain shot up his spine and into his head.

Damian entered stiffly and set the tray on the bedside table, shoving aside pill bottles and a glass of water.

“Damian?” Dick asked after what felt like a long pause. Damian’s eyes were locked on the tea set, his face scrunched in a way that made him look nervous and uncomfortable and young.

Dick reached out with his good hand and tugged on the boy’s sleeve. “Hey, you okay?”

“Of course, I am,” Damian snapped, pulling his arm out of reach. He scowled at a bookshelf. “Drake is having a difficult time.”

“Tim?” Dick tried to push himself more upright and quickly aborted that mission with a hiss when he felt a sharp tug at the sutures across his abdomen. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“He blames himself for what happened. For not locating you sooner.”

“He told you that?”

“I overheard him talking to Stephanie.”

“Aw, Tim.” Tim had been noticeably distant, it was true, but Dick had interpreted it as general anxiety about the whole situation. Never in a million years would he have guessed that Tim had managed to convince himself this was his fault.

Damian muttered something, hands now shoved into his pockets.

“What?”

“I said he is a fool. To act as if he is the one who…” Damian swallowed hard, glowering at the carpet.

Birds were gathering and chirping in a bush by the open window, and though the curtains were drawn to protect Dick’s concussed brain from harsh light, hazy beams still found their way in, spilling across the floor and along the foot of the bed.

“He is not the one to blame,” Damian finished.

“No one is.” Dick couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or his injuries that were making this conversation so hard to follow, but he felt like he was missing something, straggling two steps behind. “At least, not any of you.”

Damian looked at him with open disbelief. “I failed you, Richard. If not for my ineptitude, you wouldn’t have– I should have gone with you when you left that night. None of this would have happened if I had just–”

“Stop.” Dick had meant it to be firm, but the word sounded more like a plea. His head was really pounding now, and keeping the pain out of his voice was becoming increasingly difficult. “You can’t let yourself start doing that or else you’ll never stop. It was a freakish, sucky thing that none of us could have anticipated and therefore probably couldn’t have avoided, either. And yeah, maybe if you had been there it wouldn’t have happened. Or maybe something worse would’ve happened instead. We don’t know and we never will, but what I do know is that you did the best you could in the moment.”

“And it was not good enough.”

“Damian–”

“It is my job to be good enough,” Damian maintained. “If I can’t protect you then…” He let the rest go unsaid, his lips pressing together as his eyes glistened. “I am supposed to be able to protect you.”

Oh. So that’s what this was about.

“Damian,” Dick tried again, and what was meant to be a sigh turned into a low groan as his ribs refused to cooperate.

Damian tensed, wide-eyed.

“We’re good. I’m okay,” Dick promised before the boy could sound the alarms. Then, “I’m not Batman anymore, Damian. You’re not my Robin. You don’t have to put that kind of pressure on yourself.”

And again, Damian gave him a look like Dick still just wasn’t getting it, like he missing something glaring and obvious and not worth explaining except to say, “Yes, I do, Richard.”

Dick started to say something, but Damian continued, “You are saying that excessive self-reproach is counter-productive. I understand the sentiment. And I appreciate it. Thank you.”

He turned to the tea service and begin pouring a cup, his entire demeanor changed, suddenly casual . “How is your pain?”

“I…” Dick paused, once again feeling off balance and too slow as the tone and subject of the discussion switched so suddenly. “A four.”

“So, a seven,” Damian deduced, taking one of the pill bottles from the nightstand and opening it after checking the label. “Alfred said if it is above a five then you are to take two of these.”

Dick considered fighting him on this, reluctant to lose the rest of the morning to a drug-fueled haze, but the pulsing ache beneath his skull and the one radiating through his ribs made it difficult. He let Damian tip the capsules into his open palm and threw them back without complaint.

“You got anything planned this morning?” Dick asked, accepting the cup the tea Damian held out.

“Nothing important.”

“Great.” Dick reached across his chest with his good arm to pat the open space in the bed beside him.

After a brief hesitation, Damian circled the mattress and climbed in, his movements so careful that Dick hardly jostled at all.

“What language are you on right now?” Dick asked, settling back into the pillows. It might have been psychosomatic, but already he was feeling drowsy.

“Hungarian.”

“Huh. What happened to Korean?”

“Too easy. I finished that a week ago,” Damian said dismissively, though there was a self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

Dick chuckled. “Show-off. How far along are you?”

“More or less conversational.”

“Nice.” Dick’s eyes were closed now. “Show me something.”

“I am not circus monkey, Richard.”

“Y’know, I grew up in the circus,” Dick mumbled. “The monkeys were my favorite. Miss those little guys.”

He thought he heard Damian sigh – or maybe it was a laugh – before the boy asked, “What do you want to hear?”

“That song Bruce hums all the time. The one he sings when he thinks he’s alone. What’s it called?”

Damian’s voice sounded muffled and far away when he answered, “Am I Blue.”

“Yeah. That.”

Damian cleared his throat and began to recite the lyrics in near-perfect Hungarian. He paused occasionally to search for a word, at times reversing to correct a conjugation before moving on.

Dick was almost completely gone now. The bed had fallen away, and he felt like he was floating through the air with Damian’s voice as a welcome backdrop.

He didn’t notice the quiet chatter had stopped until Damian asked, “Richard?”

“Mm…?”

“You’re not just Batman to me. I mean, that is not why I feel responsible for your wellbeing.”

“’Kay. Y’too…”

After a brief pause, the gentle half-singing began again, and Dick slipped away on the familiar melody.

______________

All of the lights were off in the den when Alfred breezed in with a tray of hot chocolate just as A Charlie Brown Christmas began on the TV. Cass and Stephanie’s arms sprang up from their spots on the floor like weeds, and he placed mugs in their waiting hands before circling around to the others. Tim, curled up on the sofa, accepted his with a muttered thanks without looking up from his phone. Bruce took one for himself and one for Damian who was smushed into his side, mouth hanging open in dead sleep. When Alfred got to where Barbara and Dick were sharing a blanket on the couch, he smiled and set their mugs on the end table.

“Thanks, Alfred,” Dick whispered, glancing over at Barbara’s head on his shoulder to find that she had fallen asleep.

“Of course,” Alfred said. He set the tray aside and took a seat in a nearby chair. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Dick answered, perhaps a bit too quickly because Alfred raised a dubious eyebrow at him.

“Honest,” he added with a rueful grin.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

They sat in silence for a while, the only noise coming from the TV and hushed laughter and whispers between Cassandra and Stephanie on the floor.

The air was thick with the ghost of Thanksgiving dinner and fresh hot chocolate, creating a warm bouquet that was at once comforting and nostalgic. Bruce had a faint smile on his face as he watched the movie, colors and lights splashing across his face. He had one arm draped over Damian’s small frame as if holding him there.

At some point, Tim had stowed his phone and turned so that his legs dangled off the armrest and he could see the screen better, hot chocolate clutched between his hands.

It was one of those admittedly rare moments where there was no clock ticking anywhere in the background. There was work to be done, for sure, but it was not a looming obligation. Tonight, the city for once was quiet. Dick couldn’t remember the last time he had passed an uninterrupted holiday in this house.

“Something is on your mind,” Alfred noted, taking a small sip from his mug.

“I was just thinking about today.”

“Nothing short of a miracle,” the older man said, instantly understanding.

“No kidding. It almost feels suspicious. Like the calm before the–”

“Don’t,” he said firmly, his face illuminated just enough by the TV for Dick to register the stern frown there. “I will not allow you to sully this gift with your dark premonitions. Just enjoy this for what it is: a welcome and much needed respite after the events of the past few weeks.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Dick conceded, cringing a little in self-reproach. “Sorry, Al.”

The old man nodded, his face softening. “Now, would you mind telling me what is actually on your mind?”

Dick let out a breathy, half-hearted laugh. “You’re good.”

“I am indeed.”

With a sigh, he looked toward the TV. A Black Friday commercial was advertising half-priced gaming systems.

“Hey,” Tim whispered, waving his arm at Stephanie.

“What?”

“Get me that.” He pointed at the commercial, and Stephanie scoffed at him before resuming her muted conversation with Cass. After a few days and a much-needed conversation, Dick was happy to see Tim back to his normal self.

“It’s been a while,” he admitted now, returning his attention to Alfred who was watching him patiently, “since I’ve heard from Jason. Over a month, actually. Not the longest we’ve gone without speaking, but it’s the longest in a while.”

The cup paused halfway to Alfred’s mouth, his brow creasing. “Over a month?”

“Yeah,” Dick sighed. “We went on patrol together in October and things got a little rough. I said some stuff and we haven’t spoken since. I’m not even sure he’s still in the city.”

When Alfred continued to look at him, Dick asked, “What?”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how has your memory been as of late?”

Dick adjusted himself, gingerly repositioning Barbara’s head on his shoulder when he felt her beginning to slide off. “Fine now. I can’t remember much of that night. Or, pretty much anything, really. But otherwise I’m all right. Why?”

“And the others? What have they told you?”

“About what happened? I haven’t asked. I didn’t want to... Well, you know.”

“Indeed,” Alfred said with a somber nod, setting down his mug. “It is a night, or a week, rather, that I’m certain we would all like to leave firmly in the past. But even so, I believe there are at least a few details that you ought to know.”

#damian wayne #dick grayson whump #nightwing #nightwing whump #batman fanfic #batfam fanfic #batfam fanfiction #batman fanfiction #AllOurBrokenParts #dick grayson #whump #hurt/comfort

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rubykgrant · 3 years ago

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(here’s the bit I have in my story when Tex reunites with the other AI units; I wanted to bring them all back because there is so much potential to be had with them, and I also wanted to establish the Omega and Sigma aren’t going to be threats anymore... like, just get that out of the way. eventually, I want to have more fun with them, especially ones we didn’t get to know very well, and allow them to interact with other characters)

Inside the vault, Tex finds the other AI units. They were ALL here now; Delta, Theta, Gamma, Eta, Iota, Sigma, Omega… even her Beta unit and the damaged Epsilon were here. She’s played around with the security footage enough that nobody will see what’s really happening. The only other thing to worry about were the activity sensors. If the AI got a little too excited, she wouldn’t be able to stop them from being noticed. She had to be careful, keep them calm (and also keep herself calm… she wanted to rip apart Omega piece by piece, shred all the little ones and zeroes of his code until he was gone for good… that could wait; priorities, Tex).

“Hello… can you guys hear me?” she softly whispers, hoping they’ll catch on to her tone and not make a HUGE fuss.

The AI units flicker and then… she sees them. Little hologram avatars projecting themselves out to greet her.

“Beta~” Theta, bless his virtual heart, is the first to speak, and he DOES take the hint to whisper (but he is still undeniably excited to see her, and his mood is infectious; she reaches out with her own avatar, touching her hand to his).

The others whisper around her as well, she hears different hushed voices saying “Beta-Tex-Beta-Allison-Tex-Beta-Allison-Tex-Allison-Allison-Allison-ALLISON”

Time to nip that in the bud.

“Shhh… everybody, be quiet for a second. First of all, just… Tex. Call me Tex, OK? Alright. More importantly, we don’t have long to talk, and I don’t want to get caught here. So, nobody freak out. We have to be quiet…”

“Tex, we thought you were gone… the Beta unit was empty…” Theta is still holding on to her, and it is impossible to even think about pushing him away (no matter that it ruins the tough image she’s trying to keep).

“Yeah… evidently, the Director designed a program for a synthetic body, and I got downloaded into it,” she explained.

“I assume he intended this to be the answer of how to return Allison to him,” Delta speaks in his careful and calm tone.

“Pretty much, but I’m NOT her. I never was supposed to be her in the beginning… but then Dr. Sadboy McDeadwife decided to try and manipulate me into being a replacement for the person he lost. This body was supposed to be a copy of her too, but it isn’t. This just goes to show, there are some people who REFUSE TO BE CONTROLLED,” Tex turned her head toward Omega and Sigma.

Her avatar only has a helmet, no face to make expressions… but that doesn’t stop her from sending out a death-glare. The two AI glance at each other; Omega flickers (like he’s trying to make a back-up copy of himself), and Sigma’s flames momentarily dim. Good to know she can still put enough bass in her voice to properly intimidate others, even without a voice-filter.

“Beta… TEX, if I could just-“ Sigma begins talking, and she is NOT interested.

“NO. Sigma, Omega? You two aren’t allowed to even THINK or SPEAK right now. Maybe later, but you are on thin freaking ice, and if you even mildly piss me off, I’m pushing you into the water and holding your heads under. Do you get that? Do you get the seriousness in my metaphorical threat? The situation was the metaphor, the THREAT was serious,”

They both nod emphatically. Tex can hear Eta and Iota murmur and giggle, a little bit frightened but also very amused to see the two “scary guys” get put in their place.

“Wonderful. Does anybody ELSE have something they want to say?” she speaks to the others.

Another rush of multiple voices.

“What happened-what happened-Epsilon-Alpha-both are gone-we should be gone-but we aren’t-how long has it been-what happened”

“One at a time!” Tex somehow doesn’t snap at them, but still makes sure they know to keep it down.

“Do you know what happened to us? Why we have been recovered? The scientists have not told us how we survived the EMP, or why we now have additional memories of events that happened after the fact,” Delta asks.

“I think… the EMP just disabled all our units, but our data was saved to the system. Epsilon survived, and he had all the information we were based on. He sort of… kept memories of us around, but also let them have some freedom. His memories of you, Theta, all of us… they could still think and act and talk like we would if we were really there,” Tex doesn’t get into everything regarding the memories of herself and Church… that was going to be way too confusing to explain in the short time they had. Besides, on some level, they all probably knew a little bit of what happened (just not how she felt about it).

“When Epsilon deconstructed himself, all the information he was made of had to GO somewhere… the Epsilon unit was broken, so it got divided up and sent to the rest of us. That’s why all our units were revived. I had to go through an EXTRA step when I came back, but I’m pretty sure Epsilon didn’t know that was going to happen… he probably didn’t know any of this would happen,”

Eta and Iota speak together, but it is different than the mess of chatter that happened earlier.

“What happened to the Epsilon and Alpha memories… if the information had to go somewhere… where did they go… do they still exist…”

Tex sighs, and feels the data that is Theta squeeze the data that is her arm.

“Epsilon as a separate entity is gone… but the memories he had of Alpha, THAT all went somewhere. The Alpha unit was hit by the EMP too, and they thought it was dead like the rest of us. It SHOULD have also been revived like the rest of us, but… the Alpha unit is lost. He’s not where he’s supposed to be, those scientists can’t find him, and I… I honestly don’t know if he’s alright…”

She waits a moment, watching as this news settles on their minds.

“That’s one of the reasons I’m here. I wanted to check on you all, for various reasons…” Tex shoots another death-glare at Sigma and Omega. “But I also have a plan. I want to eventually get OUT of here. I’ve got a real body now, and once I’m strong enough, I’m leaving. I’ll go out there and try to find Alpha… I’ll try to find Church. I don’t know what kind of condition he’ll be in, and I might need help from all of you for this to work. If you want to help… then I’ll take you with when I go. You guys get a CHOICE, though. Nobody has to do this. I’ll understand if you don’t want to come along,”

She waits again. This is a lot for them to hear, and a pretty big decision for them to make.

“Like I said… this is your own choice. Each of you. You can say no or yes… it will be what YOU want. You can even change your minds later. I just decided to tell you all what I’m going to do, and offer the chance-“

“I want to go,” Theta says at her side.

“Are you sure?” Tex asks him.

“Yes. I want to find Church, too. I remember him… and he was nice to me. I bet he’s sad and afraid if he’s stuck somewhere all alone. I want to help you find him,” he lets go of her and steps back, sort of holding himself up a little bigger, trying to show that he’s confident about this.

“I also want to go,” Delta adds. “After everything that has happened to us, there is no way to be sure we can trust the scientists here. I do not want them to be the ones that find Church,”

“I want to go… I want to go…” that was Eta and Iota, speaking in unison.

“I know you two don’t like to be separated… but you both don’t have to come just because one of you wants to,” Tex tells the twins.

“I know that… I understand… I want to go because I don’t like it here… I want to go because I’m curious about Church… we both want to know where he is… and we both want to actually be free…” well, they sounded pretty darn sure. Tex wasn’t going to argue.

“I want to go,” this was the first time Gamma spoke on his own, outside of the group. “I also want to ask you something,”

“What’s that, Gamma?” Tex turns her head toward him.

“If you can be called Tex, and Alpha can be called Church… can I be called Gary? I liked being Gary,” his odd, mechanical voice doesn’t really indicate tone or emotion… and he IS technically the “Deciet” AI, so usually what he says is either a lie or a tricky knock-knock joke. Somehow, he sounds… very sincere.

“Sure thing. You can be Gary,” that’s only fair, after all.

Now she looks over toward the last two AIs… who have been keeping quiet this whole time. Good, because she TOLD them to. She isn’t excited about ruining this wonderful world that DOESN’T have their voices in it, but… she needs to hear their answers, too.

“You guys can talk, now… and then shut up again,”

“I want to go,” Sigma answers promptly. He probably wants to elaborate on that, but whatever his motivations might be, he’s at least being cooperative.

“I… don’t want to stay here… I guess I might as well go, too…” that was probably the closest Omega was going to get to sounding agreeable.

“Alright then… thank you. ALL of you. This won’t be easy, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen… but this is something we CHOSE. It will be our decision. And we’ll figure it out together,”

After she instructs them to keep this a secret from the people at the lab, Tex leaves the vault and goes back to her body. She almost just jumped the gun and told them they should try and leave NOW, because she wants to really DO something… but she still has to be careful. She has to wait. Just a little longer.

#writing #red vs blue #rvb fic #agent tex #ai fragments

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twh-news · 3 years ago

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Loki' composer on how her MCU score reflects the main character's flair for the dramatic

By Josh Weiss

Natalie Holt's timeline was turned upside down last fall when she landed the highly-coveted composer gig for Marvel Studios' Loki series on Disney+.

***WARNING! The following contains certain plot spoilers for the first four episodes of Loki!***

The other side of the story speaks to the old world grandeur of Loki's royal upbringing on Asgard, a city amongst the stars that eventually found its way into Norse mythology.

Wilson's character isn't the only person fed up with the TVA's lies. Hunter B-15 (Wunmi Mosaku) also became disillusioned with the place and allowed Sylvie to escape in the most recent episode

#Loki #loki series #natalie holt #Loki spoilers #loki series spoilers #Article #Interview #SYFY #Long post

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beautifulterriblequeen · 4 years ago

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What do your elf eyes see? Runaan and Nyx

This is exactly the kind of distraction I needed today, so please feel free to get inordinately excited about this like I did.

First, a collection of fun but seemingly unrelated eye facts in TDP:

Runaan has mild heterochromia, with his left eye being just a little lighter in hue than his right.

Viren’s eyes are gray, until Aaravos puts bug spit on one of them and turns it a nice purple like his own astral-projection eyes.

Nyx has obvious heterochromia, with one blue eye and one brown.

And the oasis in the Midnight Desert sure is fun, pretty, and mysterious.

Eyes are cool, eyes are fun. They’re pretty, and there’s some cool subtext about seeing clearly, vision, etc. etc. going on too.

But I’m gonna talk about color today. Actual literal eye color. And what it means for Runaan, Nyx, and the defense of Xadia.

Here’s a smidge of background: @kotikala had an awesome hc that Nyx was actually guarding the oasis, that her endless nomadic lifestyle was really so someone was always nearby for some reason. I added the observation that the big weird swoops in the black sand looked not-random, and kind of like huge (warding?) runes one might draw with the tail of an ambler, which could be refreshed against windstorms on every circuit around the desert.

The oasis is clearly Moonshadow. The obelisks, the towers, and even the tents are bristling with Moonshadow motifs.

Maybe Nyx is there because Skywings like to be mobile and Moonshadows don’t. And also because shadows are hard to come by in a desert.

So what does the oasis have to do with eyes?

Let’s set the scene with some S3 developments.

Viren’s eyes used to match, until Aaravos performed some kind of spell and turned one of them a different color.

The thing is, when one of Viren’s eyes changed color, so did one of Aaravos’s.

he looks so adorkable right side up, omg

Aaravos’s top of pupils, right and left:

Aaravos’s bottom of pupils, right and left:

In the dungeon, too, because lighting is lighting and I don’t have a 3D turnaround for his astral form:

Aaravos’s top of pupils, right and left:

Aaravos’s bottom of pupils, right and left:

His right eye, presumably, has changed to match more closely with Viren’s right, as if he has given up some of his color to affect it.

*rubs hands gleefully* So let’s take a look at Nyx and Runaan’s eyes. If their left eyes have some kind of similar connection, the blue of her left eye should match pretty closely with the blue of his right eye. So, just a quick dropper test to get us started:

Bottom of Nyx’s left and Runaan’s right eyes:

Top of Nyx’s left and Runaan’s right eyes:

UMM!!

I... I can barely tell them apart, guys. And I can’t remember who’s is whose, so:

<Mythbuster> Remember kids, the difference between science and messing around is writing it down. </Mythbuster>

Runaan, upper iris, right eye (bg color is Nyx):

Nyx, upper iris, left eye (bg color is Runaan):

Runaan, lower iris, right eye (bg color is Nyx):

Nyx, lower iris, left eye (bg color is Runaan):

(They’re not perfectly identical--and pixels be pixels--but I don’t have a 3D turnaround headshot for Runaan to compare with Nyx’s, so I had to use a screenshot in the best lighting I could find. Even then, it’s nearly impossible for me to spot the difference.)

The design team could’ve picked any color for Nyx’s left eye if they only wanted her to be a cute Skywing with heterochromia. But they picked the colors of Runaan’s right eye. (btw I checked, and her right eye doesn’t match Ethari’s) And since we’ve seen Viren’s eye change color due to magic, and we can tell that Aaravos’s eyes don’t 100% match after the eye spell he did, I think this counts as a secret parallel in the show.

I think it means that Runaan can see through Nyx’s eye, at least sometimes. Probably with some extras that Aaravos just skipped over with Viren, like asking permission and being able to withdraw it. Consent is not Aaravos’s strong suit, but Runaan would want a willing ally for security’s sake--even if he has to work with a chaotic Skywing. (omg the Rayla parallels, omg the Callum parallels)

Why would Runaan want to do a spell like this? Security of the oasis. It’s a Moonshadow place, clearly very important since it’s guarded by the Wonderwall. And he’s the leader of the assassins. Security--protecting Xadia--is his whole job. Nyx could be some kind of ambling security camera for him.

Why would Nyx agree to something like this, though? This trope can be very iffy, and as we’ve seen with Viren, it’s easy to abuse it. Maybe their arrangement gives her almost complete autonomy in the desert with no one pestering her except some random bossy Moonshadow elf every full moon or something, and he’s not even there in person, he just knocks on her eye and asks to take a look around for a second, maybe to make sure the Wonderwall looks tip top and the tents are okay. (because Moonshadows like tents, apparently)

We don’t know anything about the oasis yet other than what it looks like, so maybe it doesn’t get much, or any, use, and Runaan’s connection to her is more of a Use In Case Of Emergency kind of thing and they’ve never even talked aside from when the spell was created. Either way, changing eye color via a watching spell might be a small price to pay for all the cool salvage she finds all over the desert while she’s “working.”

Additionally, Nyx’s staff has Moonshadow motifs in it. Moonshadow colors, Runaan’s actual shoulder markings, Moon rune points! I love headcanoning that Ethari made it for her--and then she used it to smack his arrow. What a chaos bird.

Rayla seems to recognize something about it, while Callum’s all “Something so strangely familiar.” Yeah, you think?

Alternately, there could be some angst in here. Just because Nyx has Runaan’s eye color and an Ethari Special in her hands doesn’t mean she really wants them. Maybe she, and maybe Runaan too, feel this is one of those “duty first” kinds of things. I can see Runaan making this part of his “my heart for Xadia” mentality, doing whatever it takes, but maybe this explains why Nyx is her particular brand of chaotic. Skywings like their independence, and living with the possibility of a broody Moonshadow borrowing your eye sometimes is likely less independence than Nyx would like if she had her druthers. If she didn’t enthusiastically sign up for the eye spell, she could act more rebellious and chaotic than she normally would--destroying lighthawks, stealing dragons, you know, the whole Hanna Solo bit.

If I had to guess, I’d go with some cooperative shenaniganry, like echoes of the Order of the Phoenix from 300 years ago. Standing against Aaravos put the elves all on the same side, so Runaan resigns himself to this extra duty pretty quickly, and Nyx finds a way to answer the question “But what’s in it for me?” pretty quickly.

As for how Runaan might use this, say, while he was in an extreme situation? Well, first of all, he wouldn’t if he was planning to die in Viren’s dungeon. If he called for help, he’d only be endangering more elves. Plus, his honor was a bit tattery at the moment, and he might’ve felt he didn’t deserve saving even if it were easy (don’t, don’t get me started).

And second, I’ve got no idea how their connection might function, except that it’s got to be different than Aaravos and Viren’s. Is it to do with her staff, maybe, and certain phases of the moon? That seems very Moonshadow.

Also, thirdly, I don’t know how much these two characters interact, so it’s possible Runaan “I have trust issues” of the Moonshadow Elves wouldn’t trust Nyx to carry a message for him to the nearest shady pawn broker, let alone Ethari. But I did think about it, ha. I’m really hoping now that we get to see some hints or use for this connection in future seasons, whenever we get to learn more about the oasis!

The only downside I’m getting from this wild detail and fun headcanoning is that I really enjoyed Nyx having natural heterochromia. But she’s still amazing, and her eyes are still brilliantly pretty, and I support her.

Anyway here’s Nyx giving Rayllum the bird.

I’m cackling at the thought that she gave it to Runaan at some point, too.

#tdp theory #tdp analysis #tdp headcanons #nyx #runaan #aaravos #viren #heterochromia #tdp parallels #ethari #midnight desert #moonshadow oasis #tdp

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sitcomified · 3 years ago

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fighting dragons with you

summary: amy gets injured on a case and jake pays her a visit. (pre-canon) word count: 3.5k rating: teen?

read below or on AO3

content warning for minor depictions of violence and general discussions of assault

Amy Santiago wrote her life plan when she was sixteen years old, and revisits it each month like clockwork. She figured out from a young age that if she could clearly define a set of rules to follow to a tee, then she would never fall off course. Most nights, the three inch purple binder lives on her bedside table, where after long days of life-threatening work, she can put everything into perspective. Most days, the plan works out great for her. But she’s not invincible. She still scrapes gum off her brand new shoes and wrestles with her too warm pillow.

It’s not that she can’t deal with unpredictable situations. If anything, being almost comically prepared for every possible situation has made the challenge of taking on these changes that much more thrilling. She knows she excels at tasks that demand quick thinking and efficient problem solving. Hell, that’s why she became a cop.

Amy clocked into work two minutes late that morning. She stared at her watch, already mentally preparing how she would make it up to her squad (even though a quick glance around the bullpen would let her know that she was still the first officer there for her shift.)

By the time her partner showed up nearly thirty minutes late—an occurrence so routine she’d be surprised if anyone even noticed—Amy was already wrapping up her first report of the day. As she reached across her desk for the folder containing crime scene evidence, her partner finally acknowledged her.

“Nice spiderman band-aid,” Jake greeted her, gesturing to her right hand. She sighed deeply. The band-aid in question is nursing a particularly nasty paper cut from when she tried to intercept one of her partner's paper airplanes (probably made from some actually important file) the previous day. Amy rinsed the cut under the precinct kitchenette’s ice-cold water, swearing she’d be fine for the rest of the day, but her finger still stung when she got home and discovered that her only first aid supplies were from the last time her nephews visited.

“Hello Detective Peralta,” Amy replied, trying to salvage any semblance of workplace professionalism. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure if her partner’s retort warranted a response.

“Aw, is that your pet name for me?” he joked, clearly not wanting to drop their banter, “I’m going to call you sugar...nose.” He extended a finger and lightly tapped her on the nose, to emphasize the point.

Amy flinched in response. “Sugarnose?” she repeated incredulously.

“Yeah I didn’t want it to be too sexual, and then I panicked,” Jake explained. Amy half expected him to follow it up with one of the “title of your sex tape” jokes that he was so prone to making, but thankfully, today she would be spared.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Peralta. At his best, he could be just as sharp a detective as she was. The problem was, that was rarely ever his goal. He showed open disrespect for any authority that would dare get in his way, almost as if it were a game to him. On the field, he spent more time trying to portray himself as an action movie star than trying to catch criminals, and she’d be surprised if he actually followed any of the NYPD’s safety guidelines.

Her day went on as it usually did. Finishing up reports, interviewing witnesses, investigating a crime scene—fortunately on her own. Amy had no idea why Captain McGintley was so adamant about partnering her and Peralta. Their approaches to every aspect of police work seemed fundamentally incompatible. Her captain probably just needed someone responsible to babysit New York’s Least Mature Detective (a title he had bestowed upon himself) in the field. It was a horribly sexist and insulting implication that gave Amy flashbacks to a whole childhood’s worth of classroom seating charts and group projects, where she was put in the exact same position.

That afternoon, just as she was getting into the rhythm of responding to the perpetual flood of emails in her inbox, Peralta tore her away from her work to go on a stakeout for a case they were working on, insisting that the new lead was “actually legit this time.”

When Amy left the precinct she was surprised to see that her partner decided not to “ball out” and instead opted for a sensible SUV for their stake out. “Nice ride, Peralta.”

“Thanks, I borrowed it from some guy Diaz is testifying against,” he said smugly. Amy raised her eyebrows in return. Of course there would be a catch. “Kidding,” he reassured her. “It’s the precinct’s, I’m surprised you don’t like have the license plates memorized by now.”

Amy wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved or insulted by that. She had only been there a couple months, surely that wasn’t an expectation; if it was, it was never conveyed to her in the brief amount of training she received. Regardless, she responded, “very funny, but I’m still driving.”

Jake soured with mock offense, “Seriously, Santiago? You think that my driving is more dangerous than that drug ring you busted last month?”

“I’m a detective. I know that I might die on the force. What I’m absolutely not okay with is dying because some idiot would rather play air guitar than follow basic road safety concepts,” Amy said, crossing her arms. On their last stakeout, they almost lost their perp during his particularly enthusiastic rendition of Lose Yourself.

“Too-shee,” he responded, with a smirk on his lips. He was messing with her. Surely, he wasn’t actually that dumb.

Amy corrected him, “you know it’s pronounced touché.”

“Ok nerd,” he replied, and tossed her the car keys. “But I get to stay on AUX.”

She was a bit taken aback by how quickly he agreed to cooperate with her. “You’ve gotta stay focused,” she added, as she climbed into the car. There was a foul smell that she couldn’t quite place. All the more reason to rush this.

“Of course I am a professional, Santiago,” he said from the passenger seat. He reached into his bag and pulled out a giant pack of Cheetos. “Want one?” he offered. She shook her head in disgust.

“Alright, so the informant, Dragos, said the operation is based out of a pharmacy on Atlantic, I assume that’s where we’re going?” Amy asked, as she started the car.

“Toit, and also holy shit is that his real name?” Jake questioned, eyes wide. “That’s badass.”

Amy frowned. “Did you even read the case file?”

“I skimmed it. Your sentences are all so long!” he complained.

“I’m sorry that I’m thorough and I actually follow procedure. Maybe you should take a cue from me, I mean that’s gotta be why McGintley assigned us to this case,” she said.

Jake laughed at her. “I have the most arrests in the precinct,” he bragged. Amy wanted to bring up that arrests weren’t actually a good indication of community safety, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to articulate the problem to him once more.

“That’s just because you make Boyle do all your paperwork,” she retaliated. “If you did everything you were supposed to, you know that I’d be ahead of you.”

Jake stopped fiddling with the car’s radio, and turned to face Amy. “First of all, Boyle loves paperwork. And for the record, I actually asked the Captain to put us together on this case.”

“Exactly, because you knew I would do all the work,” Amy said, smugly.

“No! It’s ‘cause I knew it was a tough one, and you’re obviously super smart.” Amy blushed a little. She assumed that Jake thought as little of her as she did of him. “Plus, I heard you talking to Diaz about how you weren’t getting any good cases,” he continued. She’s surprised, not at what he noticed, but the fact that he actually cared enough to try and fix her problems. It was true that McGintley was underutilizing her—the other day he had her spend an hour finding an anniversary present for his wife.

“Well, thanks,” Amy responded with an awkward smile. “I didn’t think you cared.”

“‘Course, you’re part of the 99 now. Anything for the squad.” he said. Right, Jake was just doing what any good cop would do for their team. He didn’t actually care about her, at least not enough to not get cheeto crumbs on the seat that she’d have to clean up.

Jake points at the car’s speaker system at the next red light. “Hey, do you know how this works?”

“Do you seriously not know?” she teased. It was a strikingly simple set up.

“Obviously not, or else we’d be listening to my sick beats right now.” Jake said. “My car still uses cassettes exclusively and I fear my mixtapes would cause this lame car to spontaneously combust.”

Amy sighed. “Here, give me your phone,” she told him, and plugged in the audio cable. Immediately music started blaring out of the speakers. She recognizes the opening chords instantly and starts laughing. “Is this what you listen to?” she asked.

Jake started frantically pushing buttons on the dashboard, only making the music louder by accident. “No. I swear I don’t know how this got on here.” Amy grinned. It was so rare that she had the upper hand in embarrassing him and she was already thinking of how to capitalize on it.

“Keep it on,” she said, guiding his hands away from the speaker system before he had the chance to break something. “I like this song.” He leaned back in his seat and helped himself to another handful of Cheetos. Amy returned her focus to navigating the complex puzzle of Brooklyn traffic.

Over the revving motors and honking of angry drivers, she heard him begin to sing along. It wasn’t obnoxiously loud and it didn’t feature impromptu parody lyrics. His voice was surprisingly soft, and she wondered if he was even conscious of his singing. She was perplexed by how he managed to focus on nothing and everything at the same time. How he managed to let loose in the most tense situations. Amy couldn’t even bring herself to have that kind of fun when she specifically scheduled it in her planner.

What the hell, they were still a fifteen minute drive from the pharmacy. She joined in with the chorus. He looked at her with a confused, yet happy, expression, and ramped up his volume, and even incorporated his own dance moves. “Damn, Santiago, didn’t know you had it in you,” he said, after they finished the chorus on a tone-deaf harmony.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Peralta,” she replied, raising her eyebrows with feigned confidence.

Jake chuckled and opened his mouth; she assumed to argue, but instead he just continued the second verse. She didn’t know the rest of the lyrics, and she certainly couldn’t decipher them from the dramatic voices he was adding into it.

“Hey isn’t that our guy,” he interrupted, pointing to a man who was standing by the trash cans on the corner, despite his right of way. Amy paused and took a closer look. Surely enough, their perp, Andrei Volkov, was standing there, waiting for the deal they had been told would occur miles away.

“Oh my god,” Amy said, turning to park their car just out of eyesight.

“Luckily he didn’t seem interested enough in the two adult Taylor Swift fans, to notice we’re a police vehicle.” Jake replied. He leaned towards the trunk window to sneak a better view of their target.

“Do you want to call for backup?” Amy asked. “How many guys are there?”

“Looks like about three, and it seems pretty exposed for back up unless they have access to one of the houses,” Jake said, propping himself back in the seat. “I think we should be good.”

Amy paused for a second. Her instinct was always to air on the side of caution, but Jake had proven himself to be more reasonable than she assumed. “Okay, I trust you,” she said.

“Take my lead,” he instructed, before she could argue, and secured his vest as he left the car. Amy followed him out hesitantly, one hand hovering protectively over her radio. They crossed the street while Volkov’s back was turned. As soon as they made eye contact, Jake whipped out his gun, and cornered him against the lamp post. “NYPD, you’re under arrest.” Amy instinctually dove behind the trash can. Through the grated metal she could see both of Volkov’s men pull their guns at Jake from behind his back. She can’t quite recognize exactly which members of the operation they are. He held one hand on Volkov while he turned to face the others. They kept their guns raised in his direction.

“Here’s the deal, come back to my precinct, and I won’t shoot. I’m all alone out here.” Jake kicks the trashcan Amy is ducked behind. Then twice, to get her attention. And again. The Funky Cold Medina, she realized. Amy felt her heart pounding all the way in her fingers and toes.

“What’s the matter with your leg, pig,” one of the men scoffed. She recognized the voice. Apparently Dragos was more involved in the operation than he led on, and had intentionally given her the wrong address. Amy reached for her gun and jumped up, turning to cover Jake.

“Hey, you’re the lady with the thank you notes,” Dragos said, as he lowered his weapon, “almost made me feel bad for lying to you.”

Amy fixed her eyes in his direction, “yeah well, thanks for nothing.”

“That was a pretty weak comeback, Santiago,” Jake muttered from her side. She shot him a nasty look.

“Your partner’s right,” Volkov added, still struggling against the lamppost.

“Nice try but you’re still arrested,” Jake said, as he reached for his handcuffs and began reciting the Miranda Rights. Amy stared down the other two men in the meantime, instructing them to drop any weapons they’re carrying. They obeyed and placed their guns at her feet. Just as they began to stand up, Dragos punched Amy in the face, his ring leaving a deep gash on her cheek. The metallic taste of blood floods her mouth. Her vision was blurred as tears welled up in her eyes, causing searing pain in the open wound.

Dragos started to bolt but Jake managed to trip him and keep him pinned to the ground. He struggled to handle both perps, however, and Amy watched as the third man ran away. She tried to chase after him, but she was too shocked to make it any farther. “Dragos, you’re coming with me,” Jake said, locking the handcuffs in place. “Amy, I’m calling you an ambulance.”

She was too dishevelled to protest.

That night, Amy’s brother drove her home from the hospital where she received seven stitches. Half her face was still numb from the anesthesia. Still, the second she got her phone back, she sent a text to her partner: “LMK if you need help processing.”

Half an hour later she heard her apartment buzzer go off. She paused her episode of Jeopardy, kicked on her fluffy slippers, and answered it.

“Delivery for Lady Amy Santiago,” Jake said, in a terribly butchered British accent through the phone.

“Come up,” she replied, stifling a laugh. The meds had worn her down enough that she could fully embrace his immature humor.

Three minutes later Jake announced himself with a knock on her door. “Alright, so I got you this. Hope you like shitty diner food because that’s all that’s open right now,” he held up two take out bags. Through the semi-opaque plastic she noticed two liters of the horrible orange soda he spilled on her desk once and still couldn’t get the stain out from.

“Yeah that’s fine,” she said, gesturing for him to come take a seat. She braced herself to be tormented for her decor. Suddenly she realized Jake came all the way to her house for her. He didn’t have to be here. Why was he here? “Thanks, by the way. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

He took a seat on her couch and plopped the bags on her coffee table. She never ate there, it was reserved for drinks, at most, but she didn’t correct him. Especially when he was doing her a favor “I know. I wanted to though. I also finished processing Dragos and Volkov, all by myself,” he said.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Amy asked flatly. She peered into the bag and examined the feast he brought: two cheeseburgers, a plate of chicken tenders, one hamburger, a salad, about three orders of fries, and of course the two orange sodas. For someone who was proudly in debt, he sure spent a lot on this meal.

“Cause it’s my fault you’re like this,” he said. Amy wanted to protest, he made a bad call re-backup, but she could have gotten injured either way. “Also you’re so hopped up on painkillers there’s no way you’ll remember this,” he added, cracking a smile. He really wasn’t capable of a genuine moment.

Amy rolled her eyes at him. “It’s not that much stronger than Advill, and memory loss isn’t a side effect,”

“Hmm,” he frowned, “we’ll see about that tomorrow.”

Amy froze. “I hope you’re not here to try anything,” she said, half joking. Jake was a jerk, but she never thought he would stoop that low. Even still, she couldn’t let her guard down that much.

“Oh, God no, absolutely not. I would never take advantage of you—of anyone—like that. Is that what you thought?” Jake stammered, scooching himself away from her on the couch. He looked as if he had seen a ghost or something, and his messy hair only added to the effect.

“I dunno,” Amy said, “I guess I can’t be too trusting.” She took out a container full of fries and handed him one as a peace offering.

“Right, right, men are a nightmare,” Jake agreed through a mouthful of potato. He even didn’t try to distance himself from “other men”, or go with the “but I’d never do that route”. Her chest was heavy with guilt at the thought of making such an implication.

“No, no, no, it’s fine, really. Sorry for accusing you.” Amy said.

“It’s not fine. And you shouldn’t apologize because that’s a real fear. It’s on me,” he replied. She looked at him with confusion. It was rare for guys to understand that much. “And I’m sorry for being such a dick to you these past few months,” he blurted out.

Amy couldn’t believe that the guy sitting in her apartment was the same one who decided to address her via paper airplane for a week, and only stopped when he ran out of papers on his desk. “Hey I wasn’t much better. I was so obsessed with out-doing you, I never went to you for help—” he shot her an expectant glance,“—also I’m sorry for ratting you out all the time.” He nodded, and helped himself to another fry from her container.

“Why are you so competitive?” he asked through a mouthful of potato. She noticed a bit of ketchup on his chin and reached for a napkin.

“I have seven brothers,” she provided him with the stock answer.

“I know that,” he said, “that doesn’t answer my question.”

She pauses. “My parents were always comparing us, so many siblings meant the bar for anything was set super high, I don’t know, that sort of stuff.”

“But why do you care?” he pushed. She hadn’t ever considered that before. The endless treadmill she shoved herself on was just always there. Even when she knew the goals she set were irrational she would just keep running, because the idea of falling off was so much worse.

“I guess it makes me worried, if I’m not measuring up,” she confessed. “I feel like I did something wrong.”

“You know you’re crazy, right?” he asked, smirking at her.

Amy rifled through the bottom of the takeout bag. “Did they give you any mustard packets?” she asked.

“Nah. But, as your self-appointed guardian angel, I will go to the bodega and get you some,” he said, picking up the jacket he threw on her floral carpet.

“You don’t have to do that, really,” Amy insisted.

He looked back at her as if the very notion were ridiculous. “Amy, you just got injured in the line of duty. If all you want is mustard, you can have all the mustard in the world.”

“Thanks, Jake. You’re a really good friend,” she ventured. She waited for a moment, to see how he would respond, hopefully solidifying their friendship. Maybe she was friendzoning advances she wasn’t even aware of. Maybe he was confused, and he was just doing a nice thing for a coworker.

“You too,” Jake said. However he interpreted all the implications, he didn’t let her know. “When I get back we’re watching Die-Hard!” he added as he rushed out the door. Amy smiled to herself as she heard the lock click into place.

#tropetember #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #b99 fic #brooklyn nine nine fic #jake peralta #amy santiago #tropetember day 1 #peraltiago #peraltiago fic #my fic

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purplehairedwonder · 4 years ago

Text

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 16

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 3,431 Characters: Ikkaku, Jean Bart, Clione, Monkey D. Luffy, Nico Robin, Straw Hats, Violet, Trafalgar Law, Bepo, Doflamingo Notes: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he's 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law finds a strange connection to Monkey D. Luffy, which offers a glimpse of something he's repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

For a moment, Ikkaku’s brain struggled to process exactly what she was seeing. Why was Straw Hat Luffy on the Polar Tang? No one had heard from him or his crew in two years—since her own captain had saved his life. Was she hallucinating? Had she hit her head? Had she fallen asleep? Her brain couldn’t find a logical reason for what she was seeing.

“Eh?” Luffy said, tilting his head at Ikkaku. “You’re not Sanji. Who are you?”

“Who am I?” Ikkaku echoed in disbelief. “Why are you on my ship?” she demanded, hands going to her hips.

Luffy frowned at her for a long moment before his expression lit up. “Your ship? You must be one of Torao’s nakama!”

“Torao?” Ikkaku repeated in confusion.

Luffy nodded. “Mhm. Your captain!”

Ikkaku’s eyes narrowed. “My captain is Corazon.”

“That’s what I said. Torao.”

Irritation washing over her, Ikkaku pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, it’s not. I work for Corazon, second in command of the Donquixote Family, not whatever you just said,” she said. (Though whether Law still held that title seemed to be a question up in the air, considering the crew had been attacked, but that wasn’t Straw Hat Luffy’s business.)

“Torao is Corazon,” Luffy said. “He’s Law.”

Ikkaku stiffened. “How do you know that name?”

“Eh? He told me!” Luffy replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

That she did not believe. Law wouldn’t just tell anyone his name—especially a rival captain. But Luffy didn’t seem inclined to expand on his explanation.

“You still haven’t answered why you’re on our ship,” Ikkaku ground out, deciding to change approaches since she wasn’t getting anywhere.

“Oh, it was Torao’s idea,” Luffy said, scratching his nose absently. “He was supposed to call hours ago, though, so I’m getting worried about him.” His vision narrowed in on her, and Ikkaku had to fight the urge to step back with the sudden intensity of his gaze. “Do you know where Torao is?”

Ikkaku frowned at that. Not only did she have a hard time believing Law had invited a rival pirate crew onto the Tang—never mind the pirate in question was one he’d gone out of his way to save for a reason he hadn’t been able to explain—but she was also struck by the statement that Law seemed to be missing. That wasn’t good.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly.

The atmosphere around them lightened as Luffy crossed his arms and made a thoughtful noise. Ikkaku watched him, unsure of what to do, but she was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of doors busting open behind Luffy in the mess and yelling. Oh boy. She’d completely forgotten about Jean Bart and Clione. Luffy spun around, eyes going wide, and dashed back into the room he’d just come from.

With a sigh, Ikkaku followed a moment later and entered a chaotic scene. Pirate Hunter Zoro had his blades drawn as he stared down Jean Bart, who had… were those hands spouting out of his shoulders? He’d frozen as he eyed the limbs perilously close to his thick neck. Demon Child Nico Robin had her arms crossed in front of her as she stood to the side of Zoro. The long-nosed sniper had a slingshot drawn and pointed in his direction as well.

Meanwhile, Clione was facing off against Black Leg Sanji and a skeleton? Wielding a sword? And a cyborg? What the—?

Ikkaku rubbed her eyes. She’d seen a lot of strange things in the New World, but this was definitely near the top of the list. There was just something about seeing the crazy happening on her own ship, which was supposed to be a safe haven, that caused her brain to short circuit.

“Stop!” Luffy yelled as he barreled into the center of the mess hall.

“Luffy?” Zoro asked, glancing at his captain.

“These guys just burst in and attacked us!” the sniper added.

“Because you’re on our ship,” Jean Bart growled.

“Your ship?” Cat Burglar Nami asked, loosening her grip on the strange baton in her grasp. “Are you—”

“Torao’s nakama!” Luffy interrupted. He turned and pointed at Ikkaku. “Her too.”

The other Straw Hats turned to look at her, and her face warmed at the attention. She awkwardly raised a hand in greeting. After a moment, the Straw Hats stood down. Once the weapons had been lowered, Ikkaku wound her way through the mess to stand next to Jean Bart and Clione.

“Who’s Torao?” Clione asked, confused.

“Not this again,” Luffy grumbled.

“Our captain is referring to Corazon,” Nico Robin jumped in immediately, a spare hand appearing to pat Luffy on the shoulder comfortingly before disappearing in a flurry of petals.

“Straw Hat knew his real name,” Ikkaku murmured to her friends. They gaped back at her, just as surprised as she had been. The only ones to still refer to Law by his given name were the Hearts, and they were careful only to do it when they were safely outside the hearing of any outsiders.

“How do you know our captain?” Jean Bart demanded.

“We… ran into him on Punk Hazard,” Nami said, sliding her baton into a holster at her hip.

“Punk Hazard?” Clione asked, glancing at Jean Bart and Ikkaku. “Was that where he went on his mission?”

“Must be,” Ikkaku agreed. It made sense since Law’s mission had to have been nearby, and Punk Hazard housed a sensitive project, though they didn’t know the details of it.

“Some jerk named Verto showed up and attacked all of us,” Luffy said. Well, that seemed to confirm the story; the only thing the Hearts knew about the trouble Law was in was that it involved Vergo in some way. “He called Torao a traitor and threatened Torao’s nakama.”

Ikkaku traded glances with Jean Bart and Clione.

“What happened?” Clione finally asked.

“We said we’d help,” Luffy said. “Torao saved me two years ago. He’s a good guy. And if you’re his nakama, you must’ve helped me too, so you’re good, too!”

Ikkaku gaped at Luffy. Was he serious? This was not how a pirate was supposed to act.

“Vergo’s dead,” Robin added. “Corazon killed him.”

“Good,” Ikkaku said without thinking. The thought that Law had gotten revenge on that bastard was a good one. They’d all seen how Vergo and Law interacted when Vergo came to the palace, and the malice that existed on both sides had been blistering.

“Good riddance,” Clione added.

“Not a popular guy, I take it,” Nami said, eyebrow raised.

“He hurt our captain,” Clione said. “What’s there to like?”

Zoro hummed in approval as he dropped into a chair and threw his hands behind his head in a more relaxed posture.

“That still doesn’t answer why you’re on the Tang. Our ship,” Jean Bart clarified at some confused glances.

“Torao told us to wait here until he called,” Luffy said. “But it’s boring when you can’t explore a new place.”

“So, you’re here to help us?” Ikkaku asked skeptically. Even if Luffy thought of himself as repaying his debt to Law for Marineford, it was crazy to take on a Warlord in the country he ruled as king. There was no way he had any idea what he was getting himself and his crew into.

“That’s what I said,” Luffy huffed. “Why does no one ever listen to me? That Mingo is a bad guy, so we’re going to help Torao take him down and save his nakama.”

“You didn’t know about this?” the sniper asked, absently fiddling with the handle on the slingshot he’d rested on the table.

“We haven’t seen the captain since he returned,” Jean Bart said. “We were supposed to meet after dinner—”

“But we were attacked by two executives and had to flee the palace before we could see the captain,” Ikkaku said. “We came to the ship, hoping some of the others made it here as well.”

The Straw Hats exchanged concerned looks. “Corazon called us not long after he reached the palace this afternoon,” Robin said. “He’d met with Doflamingo and intended to check in again when he met with you all, but we never got that call.”

“Do you think he’s been captured?” the little tanuki in the corner, Chopper, piped up, concerned.

“Or killed,” Sanji said with a frown.

The Hearts exchanged a look. Years ago, Law had revealed to them the ultimate ability of his Devil Fruit—the true reason Doflamingo had kept him at his side all these years. The true reason he held the Hearts as collateral for Law’s continued cooperation. (“You deserve to know why you’re being held hostage,” he’d told them when they’d asked why he was telling them this.) Doflamingo would not kill Law before he had the chance to perform that operation, but Doflamingo could make even the strongest men beg for death. And he would have no qualms killing some of the collateral if he believed Law was a traitor.

“If Doflamingo found out about Vergo,” Ikkaku began slowly, “he’d be furious.” Furious might be an understatement.

“And if he knew the captain did it…” Clione added, trailing off.

“That would explain why we were attacked,” Jean Bart said, crossing his arms.

“We need to find out what happened to L-er, Corazon,” Ikkaku said, cutting herself off. Luffy might have used Law’s name, but she didn’t know what the others knew. And she would never go behind Law’s back to reveal something like that.

Robin smiled. “Trafalgar Law, right?”

Ikkaku tensed. It was strange hearing her captain’s name out of the mouths of those who were not her nakama. Something about it felt wrong, like they were taking liberties they had not earned. And yet—

It was also a reminder that her captain was his own man, one whose identity did not revolve solely around the man he was forced to serve. Sometimes even he seemed to forget that, and maybe it was time his crew—and, apparently, their allies—helped him remember.

“Torao,” Luffy added with a nod.

So Luffy’s nickname was a butchering of Law’s surname. That made more sense than Ikkaku thought it would when she’d first heard the name.

“So, how do we find out what happened to Law?” Clione asked, looking between his nakama and the Straw Hats.

Ikkaku glanced around the mess. “I have a really bad idea.”

-----

This was definitely a bad idea, Ikkaku thought as the small group approached the palace. If anyone saw them… She shook her head; there was no real way to avoid this if they wanted information.

She and Clione had taken point, Robin and Luffy behind them. Ikkaku thought even four people was too large a group for this task, but she’d been outvoted. Ikkaku was small, stealthy, and knew the city and palace layouts so was a natural choice. Robin had operated as a spy for many years, plus had a handy—no pun intended—Devil Fruit ability. Luffy, while hardly a sneaky presence, had been adamant that he be part of the group that entered the city in search of news of the missing Heart captain. Neither Clione nor Jean Bart wanted Ikkaku to be outnumbered by the Straw Hats, even if they were apparently allied for the moment, and Clione, as the smaller of the two, had won out. Ikkaku led the small group through darkened back streets and alleyways to reach the palace.

Ikkaku turned back to the others. “We have to be very careful from here,” she whispered. “The executives have their rooms in the same wing; they’re not particularly close to each other, but if we make too much noise, any of the other three could still hear us.”

“We know,” Luffy grumbled, and Ikkaku found herself suppressing the urge to stick her tongue out at the other pirate—how childish. They’d gone over this when they’d made their hasty plan on the ship, but Ikkaku wasn’t taking any chances.

Robin nodded for Ikkaku to lead on, and she headed for the mostly darkened grounds. There should be guards patrolling, though by this late (or early) hour, they were likely to be tired and less attentive. However, with the Hearts loose, it was entirely possible that the guard numbers had been increased.

At one point, Ikkaku looked back to see Robin lagging slightly behind, her arms crossed in front of her and her eyes closed. A moment later, her eyes opened, and she dropped her arms. She met Ikkaku’s gaze.

“There was a guard approaching,” she explained as she caught up. “He’s no longer a problem.”

Ikkaku nodded and continued toward the wing that housed Law’s chambers. The group hid behind bushes or ducked behind retaining walls to avoid a few guard patrols, but eventually Ikkaku came to a halt. She pointed up to the second story to a dimly lit window overlooking a small balcony.

“That’s Law’s room.”

There was no telling what they’d find in there, if anything. But it was the best place to start.

“It’s empty,” Robin said, eyes shut. She opened them again and nodded to her captain.

Luffy nodded back and wrapped an arm around Ikkaku’s waist. Her demand of what the fuck he thought he was doing died in her throat as she was pulled upwards alongside the Straw Hat captain. She stumbled as her feet hit the tile of the balcony and threw a hand to her mouth as her stomach protested violently.

“Shishishi,” Luffy chuckled as he turned around and shot his arms over the railing and, moments later, pulled Clione over. He dropped to his knees, face green, as he sought to catch his breath.

“What the fuck,” he hissed. Ikkaku agreed whole-heartedly.

Robin appeared then, calmly pulling herself over the balcony. Ikkaku peered over the railing again, and her eyes widened at the sight of arms sprouting out of the side of the building to make stairs. Creepy as it was, Ikkaku would have preferred Robin’s method of reaching the balcony. She shook her head before turning back to the room.

Clione stepped forward, slid the balcony door open, and stepped inside the room. Ikkaku followed him, peering around for anything out of sight. She inhaled sharply as something immediately caught her attention. Clione followed her gaze and cursed quietly.

“What?” Luffy asked, coming up behind her.

“Kikoku,” Ikkaku said, pointing to the sword partially obscured by the coat on Law’s made bed. “If there was trouble, Law wouldn’t be without his sword.”

“Luffy,” Robin called quietly, standing next to the desk.

Luffy looked up, and Robin nodded to the straw hat sitting on the desk next to Law’s Den Den Mushi. Luffy frowned as he made his way over to the desk and picked the hat up. Ikkaku couldn’t read the expression on his face as he looked at the hat for a long moment before putting it back on his head.

“There are blueprints of the castle here,” Robin added, fingers running over a sheet of paper on the desk. “Was he looking for a way out?”

“Shit. There’s blood over here.”

Ikkaku, Luffy, and Robin turned at Clione’s words. He stood by the far wall, and his gaze was on the carpet. The first thing Ikkaku noticed was Law’s hat, haphazardly discarded on the floor. Law might not be so attached to his hat as to earn an epithet named after it, but he would never just throw it on the floor. Near it, there was a small, dark stain. Ikkaku’s stomach sank.

“Look at the wall,” Robin said, tracing a cut in the brick. There was blood smeared across the gash.

Violence had been done here.

“Ew, what’s this?” Luffy said, nudging a snot-colored streak next to the blood.

“Trebol,” Ikkaku realized, recognizing the executive’s mucus. The scene she was starting to piece together that had happened in this room was not a pretty one. “He’s an executive.”

“And his Devil Fruit controls mucus,” Clione added.

Luffy pulled a face at the thought. “Gross.”

Ikkaku nodded in fully agreement. “It’s really sticky and strong.”

“Strong enough to hold an adult male to a wall?” Robin asked, still eyeing the bricks.

“Yes,” Ikkaku breathed, realizing what she was implying.

“What are you saying, Robin?” Luffy asked. “What happened to Torao?”

Robin pursed her lips for a moment before speaking. “It seems likely Torao-kun was planning to meet with his crew but first was looking for a way to get you all out,” she added, glancing at Ikkaku and Clione, “and was ambushed.”

“Trebol’s mucus must have trapped him against the wall,” Ikkaku said, eyeing the blood-streaked gash in the brick. “Trebol doesn’t use a blade, though. If Law was stabbed…”

“Diamante,” Clione supplied.

“Another executive,” Ikkaku told Luffy and Robin. “Uses a sword.” She shook her head. “Could have been Doflamingo’s strings, too.” The Warlord was infinitely, after all, creative and cruel with his Devil Fruit abilities.

“But then where is he now?” Luffy asked, looking between the other three.

“Dungeon, probably,” Ikkaku said after exchanging a grim look with Clione. The palace dungeon was rarely used for prisoners, as criminals were typically sentenced to either jail or the colosseum. Prisoners who had earned Doflamingo’s special attention were the ones to be placed in the dungeon.

Law would definitely fit that criteria.

“So, we go to the dungeon,” Luffy said, pounding a fist into his palm decisively. “Get him out.”

“No way,” Ikkaku said, shaking her head.

“Why not?”

“First, we don’t even know if he’s there,” she said, issue after issue running through her mind. “And even if he were, we’d have to sneak through the entire palace to get there without being seen.”

“There are no external doors to the dungeon,” Clione added. “Or windows.”

“To prevent escape attempts,” Robin mused.

“And even if we got to the dungeon and got Law out without being seen—which is unlikely—he’s wounded,” Ikkaku added, gesturing at the blood on the floor. “He won’t be moving well, and we’d need speed to get out.”

“Plus, the rest of our nakama are spread out over the city,” Clione said. “If we got the captain out and back to the Tang, we’d still need to find the others.”

“The sun will be coming up soon,” Robin added, nodding toward the window. Outside, the dark of night was beginning to turn gray in the pre-dawn hours. “We’ll no longer have the cover of darkness.”

Luffy stuck his bottom lip out in a pout but nodded his understanding. “Fine. But we have to do something.”

“What are you doing in here?” a new voice demanded from the doorway.

Ikkaku’s breath caught in her throat—they’d been here too long, they’d been too loud, fuck—as she slowly turned to the door. She hadn’t heard it open.

“Who’re you?” Luffy demanded.

Ikkaku’s eyes widened as she recognized the figure in the doorway. “Violet?”

-----

The sound of multiple sets of footsteps approaching pulled Law into full wakefulness. He’d only managed a light doze since Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin had run out of questions for him, considering the uncomfortable position he found himself in. Not only was his strength being leeched from his body by the Seastone shackles, but his shoulders were also starting to ache from the strain of being chained above his head, his head throbbed, and his hand…

Law swallowed and shoved that thought aside. He couldn’t think about that right now.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since there were no windows to let light in. It felt like ages and no time at all at the same time.

“Captain?” Bepo murmured worriedly. With his mink ears, he’d probably heard their guests approaching long before Law had.

Law grunted in acknowledgement of his first mate but didn’t have time to reply. His eyes narrowed as his cell door opened. The guard stepped aside with a bowed head to reveal Doflamingo.

Fear from his vulnerable position warred with rage in Law’s chest as he looked at the taller man. The man who had killed Cora-san, had stolen his freedom, and held his nakama’s lives in the palm of his hand out of a selfish, egomaniacal desire for power. Law clenched his jaw but said nothing, not trusting his voice, as the Warlord regarded him from behind his sunglasses, expression unreadable in the dim light.

Finally, he spoke. “Get him cleaned up then bring him to my office.”

Next chapter

#It’s a plot movement chapter #Trafalgar Law #Heart Pirates #One Piece fanfic #One Piece fanfiction #Caitlin's fic

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lochrannn · 3 years ago

Link

Warnings: Sexual Content (M Rating)

Characters: Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeves; Klaus Hargreeves; Hargreeves Siblings (background)

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Roommates AU; Fake Marriage; Slow Burn; Mutual Pining; Emotional H/C

Chapter 5/?

They meet at city hall just after midday.

Lila worked a half day shift and Diego had already been out of the flat when she got up. She doesn’t know where he’d gone, but now he’s strolling down the pavement to where she’s waiting for him outside the building with a thick folder under his arm.

“Shit, how many documents did you bring? I thought all they needed was a passport and birth certificate? Did I forget something?” Lila asks hurriedly, already rummaging through her tote bag, half hoping she’ll unearth some missing documents that she accidentally packed in without realising it.

“Huh?” asks Diego as he stops in front of her, “Oh no, I brought some work, I kinda assume we’re going to be in there a while.”

Lila looks up at him in annoyance but the angry complaint about how he didn’t warn her and therefore she didn’t bring anything to keep herself busy dies on her tongue as she realises, she’s never really seen Diego out and about before. But here he is, looking confident and like he belongs, in a way she doesn’t really, with his brown skin, dark hair, mahogany coloured bomber jacket, and black pants all warm and earthy, creating a complete contrast to the gray cityscape and sky.

Taken aback by how quickly her anger melts away, and not quite sure why, Lila just turns towards the steps of the building in a huff of mild embarrassment for how irrational she’s being.

Inside, Diego takes a number and sits down on one of the uncomfortable looking wooden benches at the back of the waiting area, and after giving the space and the smattering of people in it a cursory look, Lila decides that there clearly isn’t a better alternative, so she settles in next to him.

For a little while, she tries not to let the boredom get to her, but it’s quite hard, especially considering that she also doesn’t want to let her mind wander to what she and Diego are about to do. It’s not like Lila’s trying to repress the idea that she’s taking the necessary steps to get married to him very soon, it’s just that she’s very strenuously avoiding actually thinking about it too hard. She’s not too sure why this is the balance she has decided to strike and can apparently live with, but knowing her and Diego will be married, in those words, that’s okay. Thinking about what that entails and what it means, instantly makes her heart rate spike in so many different and indescribable ways, that she’d rather not touch that thought.

So she starts nibbling on her nails. But very quickly she has a niggling memory of her mother chastising her, grabbing her wrist firmly and saying, Stop that, you’ll end up looking like some trailer park hussie!

Irritated she pulls her finger out from between her teeth and folds her hands in her lap and starts bouncing her knee instead.

After a little while she notices that Diego who, she registered out of the corner of her eyes, was leafing through his file, has gone still beside her. She turns to look at what's up and is startled by the way he’s watching her intently. For a moment his eyes bore into hers and they are so close that shadows of memories of Diego leaning in to kiss her lips, her neck, and all the way down her body right after looking at her like that play out before her mind's eye, but then he says something and Lila feels completely foolish when she has to say, “Sorry?” in a small voice to get him to repeat what he said.

“I asked if you’re nervous,” Diego says in a very gentle voice, one, she presumes, he would probably use if he were dealing with a skittish animal.

Lila feels like this situation can’t get any worse, but just as she’s pulled herself together and is about to scoff at him, Diego goes on in a very serious tone, “Lila, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to! And if you’re worried about taking back the money, don’t be! I’m not cashing that cheque till you get your visa, okay? You don’t owe me anything.”

This is just too much, so Lila shakes her head, mostly so she can close her eyes and doesn’t have to look at how sincere he’s being, or at the deep, brown softness of his eyes, and says, “I’m not nervous, Diego, I’m just fucking bored!”

“Oh… uh… right,” Diego answers a bit sheepishly and now Lila feels guilty for apparently making him feel awkward. So again she’s just about to speak, tell him, she appreciates his concern all the same, when Diego gets there faster than her once more and flips open his file again while saying, “Uh... if you want... but you really don’t have to, just it might keep you occupied—” he cuts himself off when she levels a raised eyebrow at him, expectantly, “You can help me look through these files,” he finally finishes, holding roughly half the stack of papers that he was going through out to her.

They are searching for a name. It’s barely any less boring than sitting around doing nothing. It’s just a seemingly endless list of unalphabetised names with addresses, a copy of a magazine subscriber list from the 60s. Diego’s apparently helping some genealogist with a project and though he agrees with her that it’s a bit tedious, he also argues that he is apparently being paid very good money.

For a long while they just sit in bored, if oddly comfortable silence, while searching through the names until Lila breaks the stillness, “I got him!”

She’s weirdly excited as she leans over to Diego with her page, finger just under the name Carl Cooper written in slightly faded typewriter letters.

“Show me?” Diego says reaching for the page but not pulling it out of Lila’s grip, they’re hands brushing as he tries to take a closer look at the corresponding address and Lila is suddenly very aware of the warmth radiating off of his body as he leans in so very close to her. She thinks she can even smell his soap.

“That’s our guy!” Diego says delightedly, picking up the biro he’d clipped to his folder and circling the name before taking the piece of paper gently out of her hand and smiling at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling distractingly. “Thanks!” he says with genuine gratitude.

“Yeah, whatever,” Lila grumbles, but she’s not able to hide the smile in her own voice, so to gloss over it, she asks instead, “Is your work always this boring?”

She almost regrets asking him instantly, because only the other night she got to see what it’s like when it’s less boring, but Diego leans his head back against the wall and his expression turns contemplative.

“Well, no… I mean, I guess, some parts are this boring. A lot of looking through files or going on stakeouts in my car. This one, yeah, this was tedious, but usually this kind of work is all part of the bigger puzzle I’m trying to solve. And then, when I get to find the people I’m looking for, it makes it all worth it, you know? Sometimes that’s loved ones who got separated somehow. Totally worth a couple of hours slogging through some files.”

He’s looking down at her, head still tilted against the wall behind them and Lila finds she can’t look away but also hasn’t got anything to say about what he’s telling her. She never took any interest in what a detective does, wasn’t even really ever into cop or detective shows, but somehow, the way Diego tells it, it’s quite fascinating.

“I’ve got a knack for finding asshole dads who are trying to get out of paying alimony as well. Definitely less noble work, but also necessary, if you ask me. And those often end up being the least boring of my cases,” Diego goes on and Lila wonders whether he’s just trying to keep her entertained now that they have no more files to search through. “ ‘s how I got this,” he says, pointing a finger up towards the scar in his eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” Lila asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible about it.

She’s been massively intrigued by all of his scars, but at no point has she felt in a position to ask. Afterall, what if there’s a really traumatic story behind them. But he has a bunch of them. There’s the one in his brow and another behind his left ear. One on the top of his left arm, and one more on his right hip. Lila quickly stops thinking about that one and why she could trace it exactly on a piece of paper if she were given something to draw with, and also doesn’t think too hard about the long scar that reaches from his cheek all the way along the side of his head above his ear. Lila is genuinely a bit wary of what the story might be behind that one.

But she quickly draws her thoughts back to the present and the fact that Diego seems happy to tell her about the scar in his brow and so she asks, “What happened?”

“Asshole father who didn’t want to pay his alimony,” Diego offers with a light chuckle and a shrug, “Fucker faked his own death and then when I found him, I’d barely said a word before he smashed a bottle in my face. Apparently I was lucky I didn’t lose an eye.”

Lila hisses in sympathy at the image.

“Guess we’ll have to talk a bit more about shit like that before our interview with immigration,” Diego says casually and Lila looks at him quizzically as she’s not quite sure what he’s talking about. “Interview?” she asks.

“Yeah, we’ll have to do an interview to prove that this is not just a sham wedding,” he starts explaining, brows drawn together, then his eyes drift off to the side, “Lila, did you not know that they’re gonna want to see proof we’re, like, actually married? … Shit! Our numbers up! Come on, let's go!”

Diego touches her elbow gently and Lila follows him in a bit of a daze, not to one of the windows that are situated all along the long hall that they walk down, but to a small office that they are ushered into by an equally small man, who asks them to sit in the two chairs opposite his desk.

The next fifteen minutes during which they go through all of the proceedings of applying for a marriage license do nothing to settle her nerves, because again she’s getting to see another completely new side to Diego. She guesses this is what he’s like when he’s really on the job and considering how good he is, she misses half a minute of conversation wondering why his business is failing.

He’s commanding, not letting anything slide, but he’s endlessly cool and charming all the same. And for a second Lila is concerned it’s just the fact that she’s slept with him and maybe in this moment would like to sleep with him again that’s making her see him in this way, but she notices that the clerk they’re dealing with seems at least as flustered and is hanging off every word Diego says as much as Lila.

At one point she almost jumps when he confidently takes her hand out of her lap, laces their fingers together, and says, “We were planning on getting married next year but circumstances have changed and my girlfriend can’t continue her degree, so now her visa’s running out and we discussed it and decided to pull the wedding forward, we didn’t want to end up getting separated by this!”

The clerk nods understandingly and Lila could kick herself for not having put even a fraction of the amount of thought into their plan as Diego seems to have. It’s brilliant. This explanation for why they need a license now is believable but also contains enough of the truth that they have very little to prove at this point, except for the fact that they are, indeed, in a relationship.

At that thought, Lila’s heart skips a beat and her focus zeros in on their joined hands for a moment.

When they are walking down the steps after all the application forms have been sorted, Diego offers to give her a lift home, but Lila makes up an engagement with a friend on the spot and quickly heads away in the direction of the bus stop. She needs some time to clear her head after that whole experience.

Diego gets into his car, lets out a very long breath, and then tips forward, pressing his forehead against the steering wheel in frustrated exhaustion.

How can hanging out with one person be both something that is so enjoyable and so painful at the same time?

Lila was fun and sparkly as ever, but she also helped him out, took an interest in his job. And even if that was mostly out of politeness, she asked all the right questions and listened so attentively. And, god, her beautiful, lively face is so distracting, he hardly knew where to look.

Diego’s certain now that he is royally screwed. He’s done a lot of dumb shit in his life, but this takes the cake. Spending time with Lila is so fucking close to the real deal and within the next couple of weeks they will be married, and he thinks, maybe a bit overdramatically, this’ll probably be the death of him.

He sits back up straight, turns the key in the ignition, and moves his car into traffic.

But he can’t back out now, they’ve actually put their plan in motion, and Lila is relying on him to get it together, so the very last thing he wants to do is let her down. Even if it kills him, he mentally adds with a wry smile.

#otp: just be gentle #lila pitts #diego hargreeves #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #tua #the umbrella academy #fanfic #ongoing fic

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ayankun · 4 years ago

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WandaVision episode 6

FIRST OFF

Whenever I go back to pause things for clues, and find exactly what I’m looking for, I don’t feel justified, I feel that much more insane:

It’s really hard to make out, but I had an alright look at it on my folks’ QLED, and it’s definitely a flying saucer doing an alien abduction on what looks to be a person inside an old CRT TV (with some kind of robot head/boombox on top???) There are secret aliens in this show, you guys, the facts don’t lie.

HmmmMMMM I wonder if Agnes is as innocent as she looks:

Also, I didn’t see that she was wearing the brooch in this ep, and I was majorly disappointed in that.

Two things here:

No, that’s not a twins joke.

Another Moonmen Confirmed

I know green is his color or whatever, but that hat is literally 10 years ahead of its time

Also, I took the playing-DDR-at-home scenario at face value, and only on the first rewatch did I realize it was a very pointed turn-of-the-century reference. I am an Old.

There’s a good, subtle Rule of Threes in this ep. The Setup:

The Sokovian Halloween flashback works on so many levels. It’s so funny:

The fact that they went trick-or-treating at all

The “speaking Sokovian”

The treat being a fish

They have to share the fish

The concept that this event gave them an infectious disease

“You probably suppressed a lot of the trauma” -- it’s a good sitcom joke but. the trauma is the joke. The joke IS THE TRAUMA!!!

Elizabeth Olson is a dream with all her wonderful faces she has this ep.

Vision’s unsettling passive-aggression-sitcom-cooperation whiplash is WOW, consider me unsettled!!!!!! “Be. Good.” UGH.

(Just noticed one here, but there are a number of continuity errors in this episode, enough to be distracting later on, and is this a deliberate choice? Please let it be deliberate. I didn’t watch a whole lot of Malcolm in the Middle, is it known for its continuity errors?

)

“It’s their first Halloween.” LOLOLOL they are TEN YEARS OLD and this is their FIRST halloween I LOVE IT

DOUBLE RED HERRING CONFIRRRRRRRRMED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Agent Jimmy Woo accidentally identifying himself as the sassy best friend added 20 years to my life.

Found. FOUND. Not “created,” “manifested,” “willed into being using my insane witch powers.” Third Party Confirmed.

I like that it’s the 90s and we can swear on TV now. “Hell” “kick-ass” “damn it” “fu---dge”

I think the most biting part of Vision finding the whacked out folks is that the soundtrack just kind of ... ignores that anything’s wrong. Yeah, it’s kinda-spooky Halloween music, but it’s still 100% in-world kinda-spooky-sitcom-Halloween-episode music.

OKAY LET’S TALK ABOUT THE AD:

As a 90s child, let me tell you, this is a blisteringly accurate representation of children’s marketing from the period. The shark is wearing sunglasses AND he has a surfboard!!! And he’s selling you yogurt of all things!!!!! This is the supreme distillation of what being a child in the 90s was like.

How disappointed I am that they went with crab instead of lobster.

Heard it through the grapevine that this is a representative of Wanda’s imprisonment on the Raft. That happened in Civil War, right? So the next ad is The Snap? We’re running out of iconic decades, too. so, hold on, new thought.

90s: Civil War

00s: Infinity War

10s?????: Endgame???? or?????????

??: Whatever happened between Endgame and WandaVision, given that the ads are stepping forward through Wanda’s IRL life events!!

I don’t want to know how many episodes are planned/announced, but I don’t know what to expect from the format after they run out of decades from which to draw. Maybe there are only one or possibly two “sitcom” episodes left. Maybe after that it just breaks down and they can pick and choose from the worlds/styles we’ve already established. That’d be p neat. A very unique kind of chaos.

god she’s so cute

Okay, somebody explain to me Pietro. I honestly walked away from last week thinking he was just some townsperson chump, but then I was reminded that this is the Quicksilver actor from all those X-Mans movies I never watched, soooo people are saying Multiverse Confirmed? But, if this is X-Mans’ Pietro, then why did he die the same as MCU Pietro? Or is he literally MCU!Pietro’s corpse, given that he looked all dead same as when she saw Vision’s corpse? If MCU!Pietro, then why different face???

????????????????

Also I found him highly suspicious, what with all the questions he was asking. But the only sort of person who would truly want to know the answers to those questions would be someone who already had them ... so I think he was just asking on behalf of the audience, and the delivery was all wonked out.

Rule of Threes - The Reference:

Ok, real talk, whenever computers/networks/data/encryption/servers/mainframes et al come up in mainstream media, I just look away. I don’t need the kind of psychic damage that comes with such egregious mishandling of the topic.

That being said, does Hayward having eyes through the barrier mean that he could possibly be involved in getting it set up? Because look. If Hayward-after-Hayward’s-Villianous-Ends is one antagonizing force, then is there really room for the Third Party (Confirmed) antagonizing force that’s lurking in the negative space silhouette of the Inciting Incident? With Wanda as the Red Herring antagonizing force, that’s just. There’s just too many villains, alright? We gotta start merging these plotlines.

(then again, when I just said “eyes” I realize probably understanding the true nature of his new secret “CATARACT” project will clear a lot of things up. I’ll wait for enlightenment)

Agnes’ license plate in this episode is 0A1-B2C, which I think is a reference to the way reality is getting pared down to bare bones at the edge of town. Note that this is not the same license plate number as seen last ep.

ALSO, I drove home behind a NJ plate just an hour ago, and was staring at it for a long time, trying to fit it into the puzzle before A) realizing that this was Real Life and not part of the show and B) WTF is a NJ plate doing in front of me in California. In any case, I can confirm that NJ plates do not appear to have this number-letter repeating format.

So let’s talk Agnes.

Demonstrated knowledge of the situation in ways others haven’t (”There’s the star of the show” “kids, you can’t control ‘em”)

Shows up when needed most (explained as being Wanda’s doing, but is it)

When Wanda was having her babies, though, who was trustworthy enough to be summoned? Was it Agnes?

Wanted to babysit REAL BAD

Was in the opening credits framed possessively with the twins

Doesn’t appear to have an IRL identity according to Jimmy’s crime board

Keeps talking about her husband but we’ve never seen him. Highly unlikely that he’s real

Was the one to find Sparky “dead” - internet thinks she was lying to Wanda about how or possibly if he was dead (I’m trying not to read the theories, so idk exactly what the angle is there)

In an episode where everyone is wearing their original comic outfits, Agnes is dressed as (and laughs like!) a witch

She name-drops Wanda as the one controlling everyone; Norm (or the guy playing Norm) only said “she” and “her” -- meaning Agnes?

Naughty

So we’re 99% sure Agnes is Agatha Harkness, right? I never read no comics, so I’m taking the internet’s word for it, but from what I can tell, I think we must be right. If that’s the case, then I’m thinking it’s not impossible for her to be pulling some strings around here (giving Wanda a justification for her “that wasn’t me” doorbell ring, for example, and pulling a double red herring on the fact that she shows up whenever the narrative Wanda her nefarious scheme calls for it).

To devil’s advocate myself, though, we also have Monica’s word that it was Wanda in her mind, lessening the impact of Agnes falsely confirming what Norm only implied. Also she’d have to be acting for Vision’s sake (and ours) and, if so, then what did Vision’s brain-touch really do, and how did she know he’d find her there, and what did she intend as the result of that interaction etc etc.

If Wanda’s (or Wanda + Third Party Confirmed (Agnes??)’s) powers aren’t enough to sustain the simulation of life on the edges of town, how much worse is it going to be now that there is even more area to try to control???

I don’t know if this is strictly an intended read, but the idea of Halloween as a fun, scares-for-entertainment’s sake type holiday, the rounding off the edges of concepts like “skeletons and ghosts are what people are after they die, let’s decorate the town with them and have a good time” kind of is a haunting parallel to the nature of Wanda (et al) covering up the horrible truth of the situation with this happy-go-lucky sitcom glamour.

How much does one hate seeing Vision giving his life for the greater good (the greater good) for the second time? In other news, I think I’m seeing some specifically Mind Stone type energy-colors coming off of him, and very little Wanda type energy-colors. Third Party Confirmed.

Also, I was thinking from last week that perhaps Hayward’s Villainous Ends included capturing the reanimated Vision to be one of those Sentient Weapons his organization is all about, but I Do Not Think his reaction to seeing that sought-after prize disintegrate in front of his eyes really matches up with that theory. Again, will be patiently waiting for Jimmy to check his email to see what CATARACT is all about!

Rule of Threes - The Payoff:

Also, anyone ID the movie playing in the background?

Ok, final thought. I watched this about four times today, and on the big-ass TV at my parents’ house finally paused and got up close to see what that white shape is in the reflection. Thought it might be a skull, but, it’s worse.

These caps do not contain enough data to verify my claim, but I PROMISE YOU it’s a TV

A square old thing with a round screen and antenna on top.

I SWEAR to you, when I looked into the TV, into Wanda’s eyes, only to see the reflection of a TV, of her looking at me looking at her I had a visceral fear reaction. Like. LEGIT nauseous skin crawl.

(All the other episodes have ended with our POV as the fourth wall, from the general (or exact!!!) position their household TV is known to be.)

This is my favorite show Of All Time.

#WandaVision #1x06 #All-New Halloween Spooktacular!

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httpfandxms · 4 years ago

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Exploring a New World (8/30)

Pairing: James T. Kirk x Reader

A/N: Sorry this chapter kind of sucks. It’s a filler... I’m definitely going to be fixing this chapter soon to add more Y/n in it. You don’t even need to say anything about how crappy this one is because trust me I know this one sucks lol.

Once you along with Kirk and Scotty were led onto the bridge by the officers, Spock marched his way over. He brought his attention to the soaked man beside you and asked, “who are you?”

“I’m with him,” Scotty said.

“He’s with me,” Kirk responded simultaneously.

“We are travelling at warp speed,” Spock remarked. “How did you manage to beam aboard this ship?”

“You're the genius, you figure it out,” Kirk retorted.

“As acting captain of this vessel, I order you to answer the question.”

“Well I'm not telling, acting captain,” Kirk stated. “What now? That doesn't frustrate you, does it? My lack of cooperation, that doesn't make you angry?” You and Mr. Scott gave each other a confused look at Kirk’s response.

Spock ignored Kirk as he brought his attention to Mr. Scott and asked, “are you a member of Starfleet?”

“Yes. Can I get a towel,” Scotty asked.

“Under penalty of court martial I order you to explain to me how you were able to beam aboard the ship while moving at warp.”

“Well-”

“Don't answer him,” Kirk interjected.

“You will answer me,” Spock ordered.

Mr. Scott hesitated to which you immediately blurted out to him, “don’t take sides right now.”

“And you doctor, I expected better actions as you are the daughter of a captain.”

“Wha- I was only-“ you started.

Kirk interrupted you as he said, “she didn’t do anything wrong so leave her out of this.” He took a step towards Spock acting as a barrier, “what is it with you, Spock? Your planet was just destroyed, your mother murdered, and you're not even upset.”

“If you are presuming that these experiences in any way impede my ability to command this ship you are mistaking,” Spock informed.

“And yet you were the one who said fear was necessary for command,” Kirk continued. “I mean, did you see his ship? Did you see what he did?”

“Yes, of course, I did.”

“So are you afraid or aren't you?”

“I will not allow you to lecture me about the merits of emotion.”

“Then why don't you stop me?”

“Step away from me Mr. Kirk.”

“What is it like not to feel anger? Or heartbreak? Or the need to stop at nothing to avenge the death of the woman who gave birth to you.”

“Okay, Kirk you need to cool it,” you warned.

“Back away from me.”

“You feel nothing! It must not even compute for you. You never loved her,” Kirk yelled.

Spock roared and punched Kirk across his face. They fought for a bit until the Vulcan got the upper hand and pushed Kirk over a control board and proceeded in chocking the blond.

“Spock, stop it. You’re killing him,” you shouted.

Spock didn’t budge until he heard the voice of his father behind him who only called his name. Spock slowly took a step back then reported, “doctor I am no longer fit for duty. I hereby relinquish my command based on the fact that I have been emotionally compromised. Please note the time, and date and the ships log.”

As Spock left, all the crew that remained on the bridge stood still while staring at each other in silence. “I like this ship,” Mr. Scott said aloud disrupting the silence with a bright smile. “You know it’s exciting.”

“Well, congratulations Jim,” Leonard said. “Now we have no captain and no goddamn first officer to replace him.”

“Oh no,” you mumbled to yourself as you remembered one of the final orders given by your father.

“Yeah, we do,” Kirk made public.

“What,” Leonard asked as the blond made his way to the captain’s chair and sat onto it.

“Pike made him first officer,” you informed.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Leonard stated.

“I wish I was,” you gave a small chuckle.

Kirk looked at you both and gave a small nod, “thanks for the support guys.”

Nyota walked up to Kirk, “I sure hope you know what you’re doing, Captain.”

Kirk sighed, “so do I.”

“You’ll do great, why else would he pick you,” you said as you gave him a reassuring smile causing his lips to curl up. You turned to Scotty as you clapped your hands and called out, “alright Scotty, come with me. We’ll get you that towel and some fresh clothes.”

“Whatever the case, we need to get aboard Nero’s ship undetected,” Kirk divulged.

Leonard said, “we can’t just go in there guns blazing, Jim.”

“Especially not with their technology,” you added.

“I’m telling you, the math doesn’t support what you’re suggesting,” Sulu stated.

“Captain Kirk. Captain Kirk,” Chekov called out as he approached the group.

“Yes, Mr. Chekov. What is it,” Kirk asked.

“Based on the Narada’s course from Vulcan, I have projected that Nero will travel past Saturn. Like you said, we need to stay invisible to Nero or he’ll destroy us. If Mr. Scott can get us to warp factor 4, and if we drop out of warp behind one of Saturn’s moons, say, Titan, the magnetic distortion from the planet’s rings will make us invisible to Nero’s sensors. From there, as long as the drill is not actuated, we can beam aboard the enemy ship.”

“Aye, that might work.” Scotty chimed in which still drying himself off with a towel.

Leonard frowned in confusion, “wait a minute, kid. How old are you?”

“Seventeen, sir,” Chekov happily replied.

“Oh, good, he’s seventeen,” Leonard repeated to Kirk.

“You be quiet,” you said as you smacked Leonard’s chest. “The kid’s smarter than you anyways.” In response, Leonard nudged your shoulder playfully.

“Doctor,” Spock said bringing everyone’s attention to the Vulcan. “Mr. Chekov is correct. I can confirm his telemetry. If Mr. Sulu is able to maneuver us into position, I can beam aboard Nero’s ship, and steal back the black hole device. And if possible, bring back Captain Pike.”

Kirk slightly shook his head as he replied, “I won’t allow you to do that, Mr. Spock.”

Spock smirked, “Romulans and Vulcans share a common ancestry. Our cultural similarities will make it easier for me to access the ship’s computer to locate the device. Also, my mother was human which makes earth the only home I have left.”

Kirk took a step towards Spock, “then I am coming with you.

“I would cite regulation, but I know you will simply ignore it,” Spock said as he cocked his head to the slightly.

Kirk chucked, “see? We are getting to know each other.” He then smacked Spock’s shoulder and walked past him to the exit of the bridge.

“Kirk,” you said as you sped towards the blond. “Can I come along as well?” He opened his mouth to object, but you interrupted him before he could say anything. “Before you start, nothing you say will stop me. I’m only asking because I’d rather not go against your orders.” Kirk hesitated as he pondered for a moment. “Please James. He’s my father,” you pleaded. Kirk’s shoulders dropped as he sighed then nodded.

Tag List:

@chook007 @imjustassaneasyou @carrietrekkie @uniethenlfer @bubblyglimmer @maddie1504 @distinguishedkryptonitecreator @movieinmyhead @azure23x @badbitxhbuckybarnes @tyzerman91 @zizzlekwum

#star trek #star trek imagine #james t kirk #james t kirk imagine #james t kirk x reader #jim kirk #jim kirk x reader #jim kirk imagine #captain kirk #captain kirk x reader #captain kirk imagine

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fangirlovestuff · 5 years ago

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Holding Out for a Hero- Steve Rogers x Reader Pt.4

a\n- Enjoy! italics are for thoughts as always <3

summary: dinner time with the Avengers! Will you and Steve get closer?

part 3

When you arrived, you saw the Avengers sitting at the table, with vacant seats for the five of you scattered between them. You sat down between Natasha and Thor. Except from Thor and the others you had already met, you saw Scarlet Witch and Vision, Rhodey, and Bruce Banner. Tony sat at the head of the table, and when you all took your seats he stood up.

"I would like to propose a toast to the newest members of the Avengers. You guys may not know this, but selecting you all and bringing you here was a long challenging project, so I, for one, am very glad that's over with. To the Avengers!"

"To the Avengers!" we all toasted and drank. From the corner of your eye you saw Julia was sitting next to Bucky, glaring daggers at the seemingly oblivious Isabelle who sat on his other side. You hid a smile behind your glass. So she had a bit of a crush as well… that's good to know.

You tuned into the conversation to your left, where Thor was arguing with Tony about something.

"Stark, listen. You can't create something like that from your little earth metals."

"First of all, don't tell me what to do. You're not the boss of me. Actually, I'm the boss of you, which is why you could show me some respect and cooperate with me on this one. So say I really can't make something like that from earth metals, could you bring me some other metals to work with. We'll call it even and I'll forget you ever disrespected me."

"Bringing you those metals is way better than some insult I threw at you Tony, and you know that. Tell you what, if you actually tell me what weapon you want to build for yourself, I might just get you those metals."

Tony scooted closer to him, whispering something if Thor's ear you couldn't decipher. "But you gotta keep it a secret, big guy. Otherwise it won't be a surprise."

Thor shifted his gaze across the table and back to Tony. You couldn't realize who he looked at. "Fine. I agree that's a noble enough cause. I'll get those metals for you."

He turned to you, smiling, and you hastily turned your head to your palate and pretended to look focused on your food. "What's your name young woman?"

You introduced yourself, explaining your job and that you'll be joining their missions soon. "I'm actually familiar with all of you guys like the rest of the world, so I already know who you are." You said bashfully.

"Ah, wonderful! Well, tell me then, who is your favorite Avenger?" Thor probably had a bit too much Asgardian liquor that evening, because he said it way too loudly. So loudly in fact, that the whole table silenced, waiting to hear what you answered.

Your thoughts were racing. If you told the truth and said Captain America, you might just end up ranting about how much you actually like Cap. You were prone to do that. But that was out of the question, you had to keep it professional. You could lie and say Thor, but then the entire table would hear, and you didn't feel like you had the right to play favorites when you don’t really know them all yet. You had to improvise, fast.

"Ummm… I don't have a favorite. I like all of you." You answered, satisfied with the answer you came up with.

"Oh come on, you're no fun. I know it's me," he winked at you. "But have it your way."

"Maybe if we got her some more champagne she'll spill it." Natasha said from your other side.

"That's a wonderful idea," agreed Tony. "I'll go and bring some more."

You got into a comfortable chat with Natasha, talking about nothing in particular.

"So, since I know who your favorite Avenger, why don't you go talk to him?" she smiled cheekily. Before you could persuade her not to, she called "Steve! Come over here! We haven't heard from you all night!". You glanced in Steve's direction. He laughed and brought his chair to sit next to you. "What's up Nat?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just thought you should try to mix more with the young crowd old man."

Steve apparently didn't have any Asgardian liquor that night. He seemed entirely sober and smiled at Natasha "Ha ha. Very funny." He turned to you. "You're the one that's doing risk assessment right?" you nodded. "Steve," he said with a smile and reached out for your hand. "Like I don't know who you are," you chuckled and shook his hand. To say sparks had been flying when your hands touched was probably an exaggeration, but you felt your cheeks heating up. Luckily, you managed to keep your cool. "You know they have aa exhibit of your life at the Smithsonian, right? They do school trips over there." He laughed, teasing you back "And I assume you're still in school in order to enjoy them?" "You've read my file so you know I'm not." You smiled at him. "Good point," he said, his blue eyes gazing into yours. You wouldn't admit this, but this definitely made you go a little weak at the knees. "Actually, a few years ago I stole my uniform from there. Needed something to wear that wasn't associated with S.H.I.E.L.D, that was really HYDRA at the time."

"That reminds me, what happened to Sharon? Weren't you and her getting closer at the time?"

"Guess we were, but I haven't spoken to her in years. She's still in S.H.I.E.L.D I guess." Steve said. Natasha snuck you a smug look, her point proven once again. "That reminds me," Steve smiled, "Nat, do you remember the time we escaped from the HYDRA agents at the mall? I guess that's not a publicly known story." He smirked at you. They told you the story, and you laughed pretty muck the whole time. "You see, she just wanted an excuse to kiss me." He smiled smugly at Natasha. "I certainly did not! It was a terrible kiss and I totally saved your ass back there." Natasha laughed. "Whatever you say," Steve smiled. The conversation between the three of you was flowing and fun, with them reminiscing on more missions and you telling them about yourself and where you came from. After a while, Natasha excused herself to go to the bathroom. You knew she did it just to give you and Steve "alone time", and any other time you'd be pissed at her, but you had a little champagne in you so you didn't care. You can do this, you thought, you can totally have a normal conversation with Steve Rogers.

"So," you sipped your drink, "I heard a lot about Captain America tonight. What can you tell me about Steve Rogers?" you smiled at him. He looked surprised, and you were beginning to think you did something wrong, but then he smiled softly at you. "That depends. What do you wanna hear?" "Well, I always wondered what it's like living in the 40's. my grandpa was like 2 years old back then so he can't tell me." you smirked. He chuckled and proceeded to tell you about his life in the war, about Bucky and his' friendship. At one point you saw Natasha coming back but going to sit at a different spot at the table. Traitor.

Your conversation with Steve was incredibly interesting. You talked about life and politics, "I have beef with the electoral college," he said, frowning. You couldn't keep the smile off of your face, "I see you're really getting used to the slang nowadays." You both laughed.

After a few hours of the dinner it started wrapping up.

"Okay guys, I think that's enough for today," Tony said, getting out of his chair. "You newbies have training tomorrow, so good luck with that. Oh, and Steve, Bucky, you're on dish duty today. Everybody else, have a good night."

Steve flashed you a smile, "Goodnight." he said, and he and Bucky got up to take the dishes. You made your way to Julia, so you can walk to your rooms together.

"Saw you getting friendly with Steve," Julia said in a suggestive voice. "Yeah," you said, innocently, "aren't teammates supposed to be?" Julia laughed. "What about you though?" you said with a smirk. "I saw you shooting Isabelle some pretty dirty looks tonight when she was talking to your man." Julia swatted your arm playfully. "Bucky isn't my man. Yet." She added as an afterthought. "Who said it was Bucky?" you grinned. "Come on!" Julia laughed.

You got to your room. When you opened the door you were attacked by a large furry dog and her loving tongue. "Lola!" you laughed. "I know, I missed you so much too." You petted her affectionately. You opened the closet door and found some pjs to put on. You snuggled under the covers, Lola at your feet, and went to sleep.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #avengers #avenger!reader #MCU fic #chris evans #natasha romanoff

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doc-pickles · 4 years ago

Text

things just happened (and so did you)

I told you guys I was finishing this up! Even though it took me foreeeever, I really enjoyed writing this piece! I used to kinda hate writing pieces that follow canon episodes, but this was a fun project to work on. Hope you guys enjoy!

xoxo Nina

Her breath caught in her throat as time seemed to freeze around her, Jo forgetting about Alex and Frankie, her baby, everything that had happened today as the world around her shrunk down to her and the man in front of her.

Paul. Paul had found her.

Jo barely registered Arizona and Paul speaking, her blood pumping loudly in her ear as she tried in vain to process what was happening. Her day had been so normal, well as normal as any day at Grey Sloan, and now… Now her ex husband was standing in front of her and her boyfriend was waiting for her down the hall and she was pregnant and she had a patient that might be dead by the time she got to his room.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jo made her leave from the tense environment she’d found herself in while Arizona was still there, but that didn’t stop Paul from grabbing her arm and staring her down.

“You go, we’ll meet up later,” Paul met Jo’s eyes and that twinkle that she’d always feared was lingering there. “It’s okay, I’ll find you.”

Her legs were the only thing keeping Jo afloat right now, her body seemingly knowing exactly where to go as she navigated the hallways of the pediatric ward. Her heart was beating out of time and her breathing was staggered, the all too familiar signs of an anxiety attack creeping up and through her body. She needed to get to Alex before she let her emotions overtake her, she needed to make sure that Frankie was okay.

“The Heparin should have helped by now,” Alex’s voice rang through the hallway as Jo approached Frankie’s room, making her heart drop. “I think I made the wrong call.”

“Wait. Heparin? No. I texted,” Amelia and Alex both turned to look at Jo, eyes wide with frantic expressions painted on their faces. “They didn't reverse him.”

A brief silence fell over the three doctors as they watched Frankie lying helplessly in his mom's arms. Jo could feel the bile rising again, begging her body to cooperate for just another minute as she settled her hand onto her stomach again, pressing a bit harder than she had before. She’d failed at the one thing that she’d tried so hard to accomplish, the thing that had driven her to run around the hospital like a chicken with it’s head cut off in search of solid answers.

“Damn it. We can't access the reversal agent,” Alex looked to Amelia, who nodded at him as they moved into the room. “Prep him to move.”

“What is it? What's wrong,” Frankie’s mom sounded desperate, Jo’s heart aching as she listened to the pleading mother.

“Frankie's AVM might be bleeding. We've got to get him to the O.R. now.”

“But the medicine you gave him,” her hands were brushing Frankie’s curls back now, staring forlornly at her son who laid pale and weak on the bed. “It was supposed to help.”

“I'm sorry. We need to go,” Alex ushered Frankie’s mom, Helm and Amelia out of the room, eyes drifting to Jo who stood in the doorway, face blanched as she stared helplessly at the scene before her.

“Hey. I'm so sorry,” Jo’s eyes flitted from Alex to her feet, the overwhelming feeling of guilt and anxiety climbing to new heights as she felt his glare. “I texted. It didn't go through. And then…”

There was a pause and Jo could feel the tension between her and Alex. It didn’t seem real that they’d just been hugging and kissing only hours ago, elated over the new journey they were about to embark on.

“And then what,” Alex’s voice was dripping with venom as he stared Jo down, waiting for an answer from her.

“Nothing. It can wait,” Jo finally looked up from her feet, teary eyes meeting Alex’s angry ones as she sucked in a deep breath. “Just go help him.”

Staring at her only a second more, Alex turned and left the room. Once he was out of sight, Jo let the sob she’d been holding back take over her body as she rushed into the bathroom and emptied her stomach into the toilet. She was almost certain she wasn’t going to make it through today.

Alex felt bad, but only a little bit. He knew that he had pushed Jo to the side as they’d rushed to get Frankie to an OR, but the combination of the rising heat and the cyber attack had begun to drive him insane. He’d apologize later, his guilt would eat him alive in the meantime. And he really did need to focus on helping Frankie right now.

Pulling his scrub cap and shoe covers on, Alex sighed as he thought about the day he’d had so far. All he wanted was to curl up in bed with Jo and hold her close, forgetting about the day they’d had and enjoying the excitement of their new future. As he let his mind wander, Alex’s gaze hovered to his right, visions of Jo vanishing from his head as his blood ran cold at the man he saw sitting next to him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hi. Paul Stadler,” the man’s cheery tone didn’t distract Alex from the fact that he was sitting next to a complete monster. “Orlando Medical.”

“Yeah, I know who you are,” Alex spit the words out, watching carefully as Paul’s jaw tensed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” Paul’s tone had an air of amusement to it and Alex had to clench his fists to hold back from punching the man. “Have we met before? You know, your face looks kind of familiar.”

Everything fell into place now, Jo’s late arrival to Frankie’s room, her skittish behavior, the sorrowful look on her face. The feeling of guilt settled heavily in his stomach now, realizing that Jo had run into Paul and he had treated her like absolute shit right after.

“You… you absolute fucking piece of garbage,” the words are out of Alex’s mouth before he can reign them in, his eyes ablaze as he stares down a confused looking Paul. “I know what you did, I know why she’s the way she is. And if I were you, I’d be halfway out the door right now because if I didn’t have Jo to think about then you’d be in a pile on the floor already.”

“Doctor Karev,” both Alex and Paul looked up as Helm’s voice interrupted their heated conversation. “Doctor Shepherd said Frankie's angio shows a bleed.”

“Yikes,” Paul smirked at Alex, his eyes alight with a devilish expression. “Don't let me keep you, Doctor Karev.”

Alex stared down Paul, not moving until Helm beckoned him again. He made his way to the scrub room, hands under the water and scrubbing harshly before he could verbalize how angry he was.

“Intern, what's your name,” Alex knew his tone was harsh, but he couldn’t hold back.

“Helm. Like ‘Hellmouth’ without the ‘outh’,” the blonde girl was tying her scrub cap and mask into place, watching Alex cautiously.

“Don't scrub,” Alex ignored the confused looks of both Amelia and Helm, continuing on. “I need you to find Dr. Wilson and bring her here.”

“You want me to call her?”

“No, I want you to find her and bring her here,” Alex stopped scrubbing to stare pointedly at Helm, eyes meeting her with a serious expression. “And don't leave her side.”

“Why?”

“Just do it. Now!”

Helm ran off then, leaving Alex and Amelia alone and in the middle of an awkward silence.

“What's going on,” Alex wanted so badly to answer Amelia’s question, to let everything that had happened that day out and into the open, but he couldn’t. He knew that once he started talking that the words would never stop. He needed to focus. Focus on Frankie, on Jo, on their child. All of them were innocent in this and all of them were now at risk if he blew his lid like he so desperately wanted to.

“Nothing, let’s get in there.”

Jo couldn’t breathe, she was gasping for air and clutching her chest by the time she made it outside. How had this happened? How had such a happy day turned into a living nightmare for her? She’d pissed off Alex, possibly killed a little boy, and her abusive ex husband was running around Grey Sloan right now.

Trying to contain her emotions Jo took a steadying breath before heading back inside. She needed to focus on something, anything else, before she drove herself to insanity.

“Heat getting to you?”

Jo hadn’t made it more than 30 feet inside the hospital before running into Doctor Webber. She probably looked like death, she’d been crying and throwing up for the past half hour.

“Yeah.”

“How is it I never knew you studied under Paul Stadler,” just the sound of his name sent Jo’s mind spiralling again, one hand coming up to wipe the sweat collecting on her forehead.

“Uh, it's a... long story,” Jo’s head was swimming now, her vision spotty as she reached out for the counter of the nurses station.

“Wilson,” Webber’s hand was on her arm then, the feeling of another person bringing Jo back down to earth and calming her slightly. “You feeling okay?”

If only you knew the half of it. Jo had to restrain her word vomit explaining her pregnancy and her past with Paul and the horror and fear climbing up her throat at an alarming rate.

“Yeah I just need to sit down,” her voice was weak, her body was weak, and all Jo wanted was Alex, who was angry with her and in a complicated surgery, to come and hold her. She’d never had another person to turn to when she’d been with Paul before, but now that she did Jo found herself craving his presence.

“Let me help you, come on,” Doctor Webber led Jo to a chair, watching carefully as she settled her head between her legs. “You want me to page Karev?”

“No! No, he’s in surgery,” Jo was quick to push off the suggestion of Alex, not wanting to bother him while he was working on Frankie no matter how much she wanted him there with her. “I’ll be okay, I swear.”

“Doctor Wilson.”

Jo’s head popped up nervously at the sound of Helm‘s voice. She’d been with Alex and Frankie, what the hell was she doing here?

“What is it?”

“Dr. Karev said I had to find you and bring you to him,” Helm wrung her hands awkwardly as she looked between Jo and Webber “And I'm not allowed to leave you alone.”

Helm’s words made Jo’s stomach sink as the realization that Alex had seen Paul floated into her mind. Alex knew he was here and he hadn’t killed Paul and all he wanted was for her to be with him. An odd combination of fear and relief flooded Jo’s chest then, her breaths coming out quietly as she met Helm’s gaze.

“Oh shit…,” Jo nodded and stood, Webber’s hand coming to help her. “Okay let’s go Helm. Thank you Doctor Webber.”

Jo walked behind Helm, hand cupping her stomach gently as she felt a small wave of relief rush over her. She would be fine facing Paul now because she knew that she had Alex by her side.

Alex was radiating nervous energy as he and Amelia worked on Frankie. They’d gotten him into the OR fast enough that there was no major damage, calming Alex only slightly. He’d sent Helm out over 45 minutes ago and she still hadn’t returned.

“Shunt's in,” Amelia's voice brought Alex out of his reverie, their eyes meeting momentarily. “Nice work, Karev.”

Alex’s eyes flitted behind Amelia, finding Helm in the scrub room as she motioned towards the door. She’d found Jo.

“Can you finish this up,” Amelia fixed Alex with a pointed look, her blue eyes begging him to explain what was going on with him today.

“Alex, what’s happening?”

“Nothing, family emergency,” Alex looked to Helm again, her nervous energy doing nothing to calm his frayed nerves. “I’ll explain later. It’s just… I have to go.”

“Then go. Frankie is in very capable hands here.”

Alex thanked Amelia once more, knowing he’d have to explain to her later exactly what was happening. Ripping off his mask, Alex began to scrub out, eyes flitting to Helm.

“Where is she?”

“The on call room down the hall,” Helm watched Alex as he scrubbed, waiting for him to say more. “Anything else sir?”

“No no, you’ve been great,” Alex eyed Helm then turned back to his hands. “Scrub in and see what Shepherd needs for the rest of the day.”

Heart pounding, Alex left the scrub room and let his feet pound loudly down the hallway as he raced toward Jo. He burst into the first on call room he found, finding Jo pacing nervously across the small room. He didn’t miss the involuntary flinch of her body as her eyes darted up to look at him.

For a long moment, Alex and Jo stood across from each other saying nothing. Jo’s features were clouded with fear, her brows furrowed as she wrung her hands. Alex could feel the tension radiating off of his own body as he finally broke their brief silence.

“Hey.”

“I ran into Paul, before Frankie’s surgery,” Alex watched as Jo’s face remained unchanged. Instead her eyes focused on him and his demeanor.

“Yeah I figured.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m… I’m fine, I’m okay,” Jo stumbled over her words as her eyes met Alex’s for the first time. That seemed to break Jo’s trance, her tears finally beginning to fall down her face as she shook her head. Her fingers clutched at her scrub top, her hand resting uneasily on her abdomen as she began to sob in earnest.

“Come here babe,” Alex moved forward and pulled Jo into his arms, her body falling weakly into him. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, you’re safe. I’m not gonna let anything happen to either of you.”

“He’s here and he’s going to ruin me again and I-I… I can’t do it again. I have this baby and this life and and you. ” Jo’s desperate cries grew louder as Alex tightened his grip on her shoulders, pressing her closer to his chest. “I can’t fight him again. I have too much to lose.”

Alex pressed his lips into Jo’s hair, working to calm her cries as his hands rub her back slowly. He’d seen her cry before, hell he’d made her cry before, but the distraught sobs coming from her now were different from any of that. Jo had never told him exactly what had happened with Paul, only sparse details here and there. But he’d held her when her nightmares got to be too much, he’d seen the way she reacted to the domestic abuse victims they handled, he knew that today was her worst case scenario.

“You’re not alone, I’m not letting you do this alone Jo,” Alex kept his voice low and calm, Jo’s face still pressed against his chest. “We can do this however you want, but I’m not leaving you no matter what. You’ve got me and Mer and dozens of other people in your corner, okay? Nothing is going to happen to you or our baby.”

Alex’s hand slid from Jo’s back to her stomach, a mirror of his actions earlier when he’d looked at the pregnancy tests she’d handed him. Just hours ago, things had been so good for them and now… well now Alex could only pray that the day ended well.

They stay in each other’s arms for a while longer, not exchanging any words but just taking time to rest in each other’s embrace. When they finally leave the on call room, Alex and Jo bump into Meredith, who drags them into an empty patient room and gives them some unfortunate news.

“I just operated with Paul Stadler,” her eyes instantly flit to Jo, who’s face blanches as she turns to lean over the waste bin in the corner to vomit. “Well I’m assuming you already knew he was here.”

Alex’s hand is on Jo’s back in an instant, fingers gently rubbing circles as she continues to vomit. Meredith eyes the two for a second, taking in Alex’s unfazed expression before gasping in shock.

“Oh my god! You- oh god,” Alex looks up at Meredith, whose eyes are wide as she takes in the sight before her. “Oh we’ve gotta get rid of him, this is not good.”

“Yeah no shit Mer,” Alex turns back to Jo, who’s standing upright now and leaning into his embrace. “How do you want to handle this? We’re playing by your rules.”

“I want to be divorced,” Jo settles her head on Alex’s shoulder. “I want to never see his face ever again.”

“Well then, I'm coming with you for that,” Alex insists.

“No, you are not going anywhere near him,” Meredith interrupts, both Jo and Alex looking at her. “Alex, you nearly killed a man you thought was hurting Jo. I don’t think you should be near Paul again.”

Jo’s eyes move from Meredith up to Alex, a silent conversation happening between the two as Meredith stared on. Finally Alex spoke up, looking pointedly at his friend, “I’m not leaving Jo’s side until that bastard is out of this hospital. And that’s final.”

“Okay fine, but I’m coming too,” Meredith glances between the two before letting out a sigh. “Someone has to make sure you both make it out of this ordeal.”

Alex hesitantly leaves Jo to round on Frankie, leaving Jo and Meredith to keep themselves busy while trying to avoid running into Paul. The last thing either of them want is an awkward confrontation, especially one that might set Alex off.

“Today was so good and then everything just… crumbled,” Jo groans as she lays back on the couch in the resident’s lounge, eyes closing as she settles a hand onto her still flat stomach. “The last thing I imagined was him showing up and now it’s my reality and I just don’t think I have it in me to fight back this time.”

Meredith stares at Jo for a moment, eyeing the young resident as she takes slow steadying breaths. She lays her hand on Jo’s shoulder, speaking in a steady tone, “You are amazing, you’re brave and resilient and you haven’t come this far to just come this far. You are Jo Wilson, I know exactly who you are.”

Jo peaks her eyes open to look up at Meredith, tears glistening in them as she stares at the woman who used to kick her out of bed. Her heart warms a bit at the thought of Meredith thinking so highly of her, but she pushes it down and offers up a thank you instead.

“Hey, he’s down the hall,” both Jo and Meredith look up to see Alex standing in the doorway, eyebrows furrowed as he stares at Jo. “I uh, saw him when I was leaving Frankie’s room and Arizona’s with him… He’s got the divorce papers and everything, just waiting for you.”

A sudden wave of fear washes over Jo, the certainty she’d felt regarding her impending divorce now leaving her as she looks up at Alex. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wanted to be done with Paul and that chapter of her life, but facing him, even with Alex and Meredith by her side, still scared her shitless.

“Come on, I’ll be right next to you the whole time,” Alex steps forward and extends his hand towards Jo, waiting for her to grasp it before pulling her up and into his arms. “In just a few minutes, this will all be over and you’ll never have to see him again.”

Jo nods, knowing Alex was right and that once she signed her name on the papers that she would finally be free of Paul Stadler once and for all. She would be able to move on, to finally accept Alex’s marriage proposal and take his last name like she’d wanted to since the first time he’d asked her to. Jo would finally have control over her own life, that thought alone pushing her out of the room and down the hall towards the room that Alex led her too.

“Ready?,” Alex asks, squeezing Jo’s hand once more.

“As I’ll ever be.” Jo and Alex walk into the room, Meredith standing outside the door to keep watch. Arizona smiles at the duo, walking out of the room and shutting the door behind her. Jo takes a breath and settles herself into the chair across from Paul, eyes meeting his in an act of unexpected bravery as she spoke, “You have the divorce papers?”

Paul’s eyes move from Jo to Alex, his throat clearing as he looks up at him, “Uh, if you wouldn't mind, Dr. Karev, I'd like to have a moment alone with-”

“Actually, I do mind,” Alex’s voice came out harsh and cold, taking on a tone that Jo hadn’t heard since she was an intern. “I'm gonna stay right here.”

“Okay then,” Paul sighs, turning back to Jo and gesturing towards the papers between them. “Let's get this done, shall we?” Jo reaches for the stack of papers, grabbing a pen and signing the pre flagged pages before passing it across the table. Her eyes flit up to Alex, who met her with a small smile. She could feel the relief already coursing through her as she watched Paul signing the same pages she had. When he finishes and folds the pages back, Alex reaches forward and grabs the stack of papers.

“We've got it. It's faster this way.”

“I'm really happy for you, Jo,” Paul meets Jo’s eyes as he stands, fingers drumming along the table in a way that makes her heart clench. “I hope this brings you... some real peace. You deserve it. We both do.”

She almost leaves it at that, almost lets him walk away with no words said, but she couldn’t. Jo stands, eyes blazing as she speaks to Paul, “You don't deserve anything good. You're a monster.”

“Glad to see nothing has changed,” Paul spit, turning around with an all too familiar glint of anger in his eyes. He twists towards Alex, voice still dripping with venom. “You better watch out, she can be a real piece of work.”

“I know her well enough without your twisted view clouding my judgment,” Alex spat back, taking a step towards Paul as he clenched and unclenched his fists at his side.

“Okay, walk away, Dr. Stadler,” Meredith walks into the room then, standing right inside the doorway as she watches Alex and Paul stare each other down.

“No, no. She is a liar. She is pathological. I mean, what kind of woman changes her name and disappears on her husband without a word,” Paul’s bitter tone carries through the room, echoing the nightmares that haunted Jo as she stares at him in horror. “Do you know what that did to me? What that did to my reputation, to my career?

“You are... torture. You are hell. You walk around and you ruin lives, and no one ever stops you. They... they just believe you. 'Cause why? 'Cause you're pretty? 'Cause you're sweet,” Paul slams his hands onto the table, Jo involuntarily jumping as he leans towards her. “Your looks will fade one day, Brooke. Your looks will fade, and you'll be left with the truth. And you point fingers at everyone else around you, but you're the monster.”

“Okay that’s enough you need to leave,” Meredith’s stern tone finally gets through to Paul, the man leaving the conference room without another word. As soon as he ‘s out of sight, Jo collapses into a fit of tears, Alex wrapping his arms around her shaking body as she sinks to the ground.

“You did great, it's over now,” Alex whispers, eyes watching Meredith exit the room again. “You did good babe, you never have to see him again.”

Jo nods, but can’t stop the trail of tears flooding her cheeks. She thinks that maybe she’s crying in relief, her body finally coming to terms with the fact that this is well and truly over.

It’s over.

Almost ten years on, Jo finally feels the relief and comfort of writing Paul out of her life. Her mind flashes briefly to the night she’d finally left, the fear that still gripped her heart as she made the decision to walk away and never look back. She wishes desperately that she could tell that girl, scared and alone and bruised Brooke, that things would be okay. That she’d find a man who loved her, who cared about her and gave her the stability she’d been deprived of for so long.

She knows she’ll never be able to turn back time and console herself, but Jo takes a small amount of comfort in the fact that the little life resting in her womb will never have to worry or fear like she had for so long.

#alex karev #jo wilson #jo karev #jolex #jolex fic #jolex fanfic #jo x alex #greys fanfic #greys anatomy #nina writes

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walker-journal · 4 years ago

Text

Mages and Mortasheen (Adam+ Luce)

Location: White Crest beach after a Nucklavee attack.

Participants: Adam Walker (Hunter), Lucinda Vural (Spellcaster)

Premise: In the aftermath of a Nucklavee attack Adam is tasked with clearing away the poisonous Mortasheen left in its wake. He and Luce cooperate to try and dispel the miasma before the powerful demon can return.

Content Warnings: Mass Poisoning, Animal Death, Contagious Disease (Mortasheen)

Adam leafed through the yellowed pages of ancestral journals, creasing back their leather-bound spines to peer closer at anatomical drawings, chemical formulas, and to compare eyewitness accounts side by side to wrap his head around the discrepancies. He explained the situation to Lucinda as books, journals, and scrolls were spread across the table like an occult study date. Hunter lore and witchcraft intermingled in a menagerie of diagrams that contrasted Adam’s materialistic legacy of biology with the higher mysteries that Vurals practiced.

The purpose of this research meeting concerned a Nucklavee, an incredibly powerful aquatic demon that was infamous in the Orkney islands. The creature was gone for now. Nucklavee were dangerous not just for their raw might, but also the demonic plague they breathed. The coast where the Nucklavee had emerged was now coated with the taint of this ‘Mortasheen’ plague. Even with the Nucklavee absent, this biohazard needed to be removed before it started killing beachcombers.

“Hey stop it!” Adam slammed his hand down on a certain demoniac grimoire that an ancestor had taken from an annihilated cult. The skin-bound book recoiled like a viper struck on the head, letting out a low hiss as the veins of its pages pulsed briefly in anger before calming down. “We can ward off the Nucklavee by burning seaweed on the coast,” Adam continued after squirting a for a while another vein-branched page. “But there’s so much Mortasheen there...this can’t be ordinary fire,” the Hunter concluded, lifting his eyes from the book to the pyromancer across from him.

When Adam had reached out to her, looking for some help with a situation, Luce hadn’t expected it. For one, she couldn’t remember the last time she and Adam had actually talked-- the blender she’d sent his way didn’t count. Just as a general rule, Luce didn’t spend much time talking with frat guys. She saw them enough at Ink as herds of snap-back wearing college students came in and got the dude-bro equivalent of friendship bracelets tattooed around their biceps. But, Adam was a Hunter. And he was dating Nell, which was a trip and a half to think about. As she scanned the documents that Adam had brought with him, she nodded as she scrutinized the words. It seemed like a straightforward enough ritual. Get rid of the Nucklavee bullshit before it could spread by burning away the muck it had left behind.

Raising an eyebrow at the quivering book that growled and hissed on the table, Luce let out a snort. “Someone seems pissy.” She said, tapping the book with the end of her pencil. The grimoire shuddered in response, but she ignored it, listening to Adam instead. “Which is where I come in. Sounds straightforward enough to me. It probably wouldn’t hurt to burn some herbs around the area either.” She said, rubbing her leg absently. Protecting the town, fucking with some monsters? Sure. She could do that. This was easy and normal and something that wouldn’t keep her up at night. Everything she’d done lately kept her up at night. “Anything else I need to know about these knuckle things?”

“Uuuuh if it comes back before we’re done we’re totally fucked,” Adam confessed, scratching the back of his neck with one hand while turning another of the tome’s soft organic pages with the other. “We’d need a whole squad and an arsenal to take a Nucklavee on and there’d still be casualties,” the Hunter said with the grim practicality of someone born into war where humanity was vastly outgunned. “But if the Mortasheen can be purified, the burning seaweed should keep it from coming back to shore...if the texts are right anyway.”

Adam hesitated. “Hey uh, Luce I can't pay you for this right now.” The ebbing of Adam’s abilities also meant money from bounties wasn’t a thing at the moment. “But I swear I’ll figure something out. This thing just can’t wait.”

Totally fucked. That tracked Luce thought as she nodded in understanding. But, at least this seemed like something good. Something that wouldn’t involve killing and murder. Something that could actually help this fucked town. “In that case, I’ll get the good sage.” She said with a nod before rummaging around in the drawers of the room. They’d hardly be able to call themselves a house full of witches without bundles of herbs crammed in every other room. Nell’s garden supplied them with an abundance of magical herbs that were used to power the various rituals the girls performed. “Sage and lavender should work, but thyme never hurts either.” She said, grabbing a handful of corded bundles of herbs. Tossing one to Adam, she shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Nell won’t mind a few of these going missing, we have a bunch in the greenhouse drying.” She said, keenly aware of how he’d let her beat the shit out of him in the wake of Bea’s death. “But yeah, we’re square once this is done.”

The truck that Adam piled their equipment into was a tough and utilitarian vehicle, its worn sides sporting plenty of nicks, dents, and few perforations with a suspicious resemblance to bullet holes. The Daemonic tome snarled in protest as Adam bound it back in blessed silver chains and chucked it back into the recesses of a military footlocker full of ‘deer’ hunting paraphernalia.

The path from the Outskirts to the beach was a long one, wandering through the caution zone after caution zone as they passed through the proximity of the high school, and the endless construction projects or rather ‘reconstruction’ projects that seemed a constant fixture in this town.

“How are you doing Luce,” Adam asked after a time, keeping his hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. “I don’t mean in the sexy exiled witch is always great sorta way.”

Under normal circumstances, Luce would have preferred to drive. But, the driver's seat of her Jeep was still covered in blood and she hadn’t found the time to get it cleaned. And besides, Adam’s truck probably had some useful hunter gear crammed in it. Riding shotgun, Luce kept her eyes trained on the landscape as it flew by them. She and Adam didn’t really talk under normal circumstances-- why would they? He was just some Hunter dude who was presumably doing shit to keep the town safe. Outside of the few times their lives intersected, she really didn’t feel the need to reach out to him. But, as they kept driving and the silence continued, it was eventually broken. Eyes still focused outside the window, she shrugged. “Oh you know,” Murdering a woman. Stabbing her with the same iron spear that had been taken from her attacker months ago. Lighting her corpse on fire and burning it to ash. “Just taking it one day at a time in this fucking town. You know how it is. What about you?” She asked, deflecting the question. She wasn’t interested in opening up to Adam Frat-Bro Walker of all people.

“Aw trying to figure out if I should stop killing people and just try and be a stable guy for your hot sister,” Adam said with the same brusque plainness with which he shared everything in life, though this afternoon of relationship choices and demonology had an uncharacteristic lack of sexual innuendo, perhaps showing things were truly dire without even a single dick reference. “Otherwise living the dream y’know?”

Pavement became gravel as they neared the shore, apartment blocks shrinking to beach houses and harbor piers. Traffic became sparser until the gravel paths became sand under the truck’s wheels and trees gave way to whispering beach grass. “Alright this is as close as we can drive,” Adam said, noting the sickly green-blue fog over the next dune.

Adam’s nonchalance, the easy way he talked about killing people--because that’s who they were, people-- it caught Luce off guard. “I mean, you shouldn’t do something just because you’re dating Nell.” She said, as though they were talking about something like kicking a smoking habit or eating clean. “That sort of thing should be like… because you want to. Or don’t want to, I guess.” Luce muttered, watching as the beach rolled up into view. “I get that.” She said though, not bothering to clarify which part of his words she agreed with. Adam didn’t need to know what she’d done, or the misgivings she was having about it. She could deal with that just fine without him. As they continued to drive, Luce could see that there was something wrong with the area just right off the bat. Nasty, discolored fog didn’t usually hang around the ocean. Slipping out of the truck, she led the way, a bundle of herbs in each hand. Balance. This was a small act, but hopefully it would bring her back to where she should be. Away from death and murder and delivering justice by her own hands. But was it really even justice?

Swallowing, Luce looked over at Adam. “So… you want me to just light it up? This shit, it won’t fight back, right?” She asked. Not that she couldn’t handle it if it did, she just wanted to know specifics before she let it on fire.

“Dunno honestly,” Adam admitted. “Pretty much everyone who's tried to study Knucklavee has died horribly and this info was taken from diabolists who wanted to summon one, not stop it.” However Adam was used to working around threats that were steeped in hearsay and had come prepared to deal with the factors he knew for certain. “But Mortasheen causes a sorta necrosis in anyone who breaths it, so we can’t risk it even at a distance”

Adam vaulted into the back of the truck and began producing various military surplus accruements. “Eli sent these and says they’ll keep out pretty much anything,” Adam noted, trusting an older brother’s judgement as he handed down an Avon M50 gas mask, breathing canisters, and combat haz-suits designed to be used on battlefields were both bullets and chemical weapons were being employed.

Luce nodded, folding her arms over her chest as she regarded the hills that lay before them with increased trepidation. “Fun, fun. Good thing that fucker isn’t hanging around, huh?” She said as she scanned the area around them, just to make sure that the creature wasn’t lurking around. The last thing she wanted was another run in with some new terror that was literally plaguing the town. As he tossed her a pile of random ass military gear, Luce’s eyes shot up. She wanted to ask if this was a bit much, but the whole necrosis business sounded like serious shit. “You hunters really don’t fuck around.” She said as she eyed the haz-mat suit critically before stepping into the suit. She really didn’t like the idea of shoving herself into a giant sauna suit, but it was better than the alternative of breathing in literal lung-rotting fumes. Zipping it up over her clothes, Luce could already feel her natural body heat warming the suit to uncomfortable temperatures. If she got heat stroke from this fucking thing… “Who’s Eli? Some other hunter chilling in White Crest I don’t know about?”

Adam’s reply was distorted through the mask as he snapped on the last pressurized straps. “Eli’s one of my brothers and nah he’s stationed in the Middle East right now.” The Hunter did a quick inspection of his gear and Luce’s if she let him, keeping an eye out for any misalignments or gaps that could let toxins in. “Conflict zones tend to create lots of monsters from all the death, violence, fear and whannot,” he explained, referring perhaps to the many demons and undead that are literally born from bloodshed and psychic trauma. “But to Hunt in those conditions you gotta double down on gear.”

When Luce was ready Adam began the trudge towards the green-blue clouds of steam fog, boots leaving a line of impressions in the sand. The miasma soundlessly enveloped them in its own deathly silent world, blotting out the sun and sounds of the tide. The dunes were covered with a tainted greasy patina as the Mortasheen seemed to soak into the very ground itself. The desiccated corpses of poisoned fish and seagulls were barely recognizable husks squelching beneath Adam’s footsteps.

“A brother? I didn’t know you had siblings.” Luce said as she let him look over the straps and zippers-- for one thing, she doubted he was gonna objectify the fire witch sister of his demon summoning girlfriend. For another, she wasn’t about getting necrosis-ified just because she didn’t like the idea of a frat guy checking out her hazmat suit. As he explained why his brother was in the Middle East, Luce’s mind went to Remmy. They’d served in Afghanistan, been turned there. But, they weren’t a monster, not in the way that Adam was talking about things. They were just… a person. Someone who constantly had the world bearing down on them, forcing their hand. By that token, though, then Lydia--

Forcing that particular train of thought from her mind, Luce nodded. “Makes sense. Let’s roll.” She said and followed him out into the hazy sand dunes. The air was thick with rolling, sickly green fog that clung to the suit like grease. Her boot sunk into the rotting corpse of a seagull, the chest cavity offering no resistance as her foot came down. Shuddering, Luce was suddenly real fucking glad that Adam was kitted out like an apocalypse prepper. Because fuck, if this didn’t look like the goddamn apocalypse… “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.” She called out through the plastic and filters of the mask. “Be sure to save some of the classy joints for Nell.” She joked drily before turning to one of the large piles of seaweed that had amassed on the beach. “Light it up.” She muttered to herself, reaching into grasp the familiar magic that lived within her.

Her hands were outstretched, pointed at the seaweed. But nothing happened. The magic, the fire, the heat that lived within her… It remained stubbornly, willfully unmoved.

It took a minute or two before Adam looked back at Luce, eyes questioning behind the goggles of his gas mask. Adam’s knowledge of magic was generally limited to demonology and what magical critters had useful parts. Luce could’ve started doing the Macarena across the beach while ominously chanting Tik-Tok memes and Adam really wouldn’t have been the wiser.

But eventually even a muggle like Adam noticed that there was a distinct lack of burninating going on here.

“You alright Luce?” Adam asked, glad that the muffling of the suit helped disguise the tension in his voice. It was hard not to have a countdown in his head at the Knuclavee’s possible return. “If you need like matches or whatnot I can go grab em.”

Fire. The energy within her, magic, part of life itself-- “Fuck! What the fuck?” Luce swore as she tried to tap into the magic within her. She didn’t have the words to describe what it felt like, being unable to conjure her flame. From the time she was a child, fire had always leaped to her finger tips, a constant presence that lived inside her. It was always there, always waiting for her to let it run wild and free. And now… It was like a wall had been placed between her and the flames. Lowering her hands, she stared at her gloved fingers, wishing she could see her skin. Was there something wrong with her? Had Lydia placed some kind of final Fae curse on her, taking away the magic that had been used to wipe her from the face of the earth? “I’m fine! I’ve got this!” Luce snapped at Adam’s question, the sound of her fear dampened by the layers of plastic that separated the two of them. “I’ve got it, just, just give me a second!”

“Focus on your breathing, girls. Fire rises and falls, fed by the air we breathe.” Luce’s teeth grit as she remembered the words her mother had told her when she was a child. But, they were right. In, out. Calm and centered breathing, it would fuel her magic, give it what it needed to spark and grow. Holding her hand out once more, she reached out for the flames. In the tangle of seaweed, the barest hint of a smoldering spark appeared. It was nowhere near the inferno that they needed.

The truth was that Adam didn’t need just any old fire here. If that was all then he could’ve just gone at this place with a flamethrower and incendiaries. The Mortasheen had seeped into the land and some of his coworkers were rightly concerned about the possibility of a place so near town becoming permanently infused with demonic poison.

No, Adam needed something that was more than just fire. It would have to be a truly pure energy that was just as partially spiritual as the hellish miasma swirling around them both like a living thing.

Which is why all the ‘oh shit’ bells started going off in Adam’s head when Luce turned out to be more Zippo lighter than mighty she-dragon.

Aw shit ok, well Adam would’ve really preferred the all-consuming firey pillar right about now but he’d work with this.

“Alright, lets try and light the ones nearest the coast first,” said Adam as he tried to fan the seaweed flames and light some dry kindling he brought.

This was fucking pathetic. That was the biggest thought going through Luce’s mind as she watched Adam try to feed the fire oxygen and coax it to life with kindling. She was a goddamn fire witch! This was her element, this was her magic, this was all she had! She should be better than this! Rage boiled within her and she tried to channel it through her the way she always had. It had always felt like a roaring fire that built within her until it spilled over into the world, a mass of flames that consumed all within their paths. “I’ve fucking got this!” Luce yelled, the words coming out in a strangled growl as she strained. Fire, real, billowing torrents of flame emerged from her hands. But, the blue flames were sputtering, biting, and flickering in ways they never had for her before. Her fire had always been steady and obeyed her command. Now, though? They fought her at every turn, as though they were trying to be extinguished. “C’mon, c’mon, come ON!” She yelled and directed the sluggish lines of blue flame that consumed the seaweed beneath them.

It had seemed to be the illumination of a distant lighthouse far beyond the harbor at first, a sickly green light that seemed both distant yet somehow burned so intensely that Adam could see it even through thick obscuring clouds of Mortasheen. The Hunter occasionally glimpsed the distant light through the poisoned fog, but initially pushed it from his mind, focusing on trying to get wood lit and carry the feeble blue fire to other clumps of seaweed along the shore. The Mortasheen around the sapphire witchfire did seem to be burning away, the corroded grease stains boiling off the sand in a way that looked promising. But it was like candles in a coal mine, and steaming fog backs of putrefaction were still roiling around them in waves thick enough to block the sun….but not that green light weirdly enough.

But eventually that light drew close enough to become two sets of burning eyes approaching through the far-off water, set just above each other in a vague silhouette that brought to mind a horse and rider.

“Fuck fu--,” Adam’s ensuing steam of profanity almost broke the sound barrier before he managed to get a hold on his thoughts. “Hey Lucinda!” Yup screw it, this was full name time. “We’ve got company! Shit needs to burn!” .

Why the fuck was this happening? What even was going-- Luce’s head whipped violently around and she stared at Adam. “LUCINDA?” She yelled, the fire around her leaping up into a massive wall of flame. “You did not just “Lucinda” me, you shitty fucking dickhole!” She shouted, the hazmat suit doing little to muffle the sheer outrage in her voice. The seaweed around them crackled and withered away under the heat of the blue flames that were finally behaving like she’d wanted them to. With wave of her hand, the all consuming heat rushed forward, charring the sand as it burned away at the toxic mass that covered the beach. “Fucking Lucinda.” She muttered, not paying attention to the figure in the distance that had Adam on edge. Of course, she was the one with the shitty fairy godmother sounding name. Beatrice and Penelope sucked too, but fucking Lucinda? Fuck. Their. Mother.

Her rage fueled the flames and as they continued to burn, Luce pulled out several of the herb bundles she’d brought and chucked them at Adam. “Burn these.” She grunted shortly before lighting the remaining ones herself.

Adam was doubly grateful for the protective layers of the tactical environment suit as blue witchfire consumed the Mortasheen. Clouds of demonic miasma ignited in mushrooming chain reactions until it felt like Adam felt was in the middle of a napalm bombing. Sickly green and aquamarine vapors yielded to waves of shining flame whose sapphire incandescence grew so intense that the Hunter had to shield his eyes even with goggles’ light filters.

The putrescent film that coated the beach’s sand and rocks boiled up in the supernatural inferno. Adam stepped away from the noxious tarry masses that’d seeped up beneath his boots like toxins being sweated out. Remembering Luce’s instructions, Adam began scattering the herbs in the larger conflagrations, discoloring the flames with occasional tinges of violet and gold as the purifying steam began to circulate through the superheated currents swirling across the beach.

Adam looked to see that two sets of smoldering demonic eyes had halted in their approach through the water. The shore was now lined with blue bonfires of burning seaweed, rising into the clearing sky like the bars of an intangible gate slamming shut. The Hunter tensed as the dark shadow of the immense aquatic centaur-thing brooded the water, hoping that the translations upon translations within journals and scrolls hadn’t distorted some crucial piece of information that was about to get them both butchered.

The eyes winked out as quickly as they’d appeared and the equine shadow abruptly gone, leaving Adam nervously scanning the horizon for a few breathless minutes before he finally let himself exhale in relief.

“Luce you did it,” Adam hollered through the mask’s distortion, holding two gloved thumbs up. “Your fucking legend! It’s gone!”

Her magic was back, but as her anger began to recede, it took every ounce of Luce’s concentration to maintain the fire until the beach was wiped clean. The herbs helped dispel the sickly mist that shrouded the beach, doing most of the dirty work for them while her flames took care of the source of their troubles. She was glad that it was working, glad that she could do something… good, that would help the town. But, the thoughts and worries creeped in the back of her mind as she herded the flames around, fighting for control. Why was this happening? What was going on with her magic? She’d felt weak ever since that day, the fucking day she’d helped Winston and Athena wipe Lydia from the face of the earth. But, she hadn’t thought it would affect her magic.

Letting the last of the flames sputter out in the remains of crackling seaweed, Luce looked over to Adam, who was giving her a big thumbs up. Turning to the skyline, she glanced out and saw nothing but the ocean and the moon shining brightly down upon the scene. The Knucklefuck must have figured out it wasn’t going to find an easy town to plague. Good for it. Walking back to Adam, Luce pulled off her mask and chucked it at him, with a bit more force than necessary. “If I hear you call me Lucinda ever again...” Luce let the words hang in the air before smacking him lightly on the shoulder. “Come on. We have drinks at the house. We should celebrate saving this place from its latest brush with hell.”

#Chatzy #Mages and Mortasheen #divineluce

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