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littlepadika · 4 years ago

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Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!

#frankie morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #frankie morales x y/n #catfish morales #calling home series #i would die for frankie #frankie morales has a sexy voice #daddy!frankie

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x-reader-theater · 4 years ago

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Doubt {5}

Relationship: Lucifer Morningstar x Non-Binary!Reader

Summary: You work with someone to figure out who pushed you, and you and Lucifer have a heart to heart over music, and the people he surrounds himself with.

Warnings: Cursing, Graphic Body Horror, Lucifer being a Bastard

Word Count: 3037 words

A/N: Sorry for the late update! I have been super busy today, and haven't really had the time to upload. I really, really like the chapter, and it's the first time I'm directly tieing into the first season in a notable way! I really hope you like this and, if you do, please like, comment, and reblog! I keep forgetting to thank her, so for the past few chapters as well as this one, THANK YOU @mystic-writes FOR EDITING THIS WHOLE STORY! You are amazing, and 30k+ words is no easy feat. So, thank you. So much. You are amazing.

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here, but please still reblog and share.

[Prev.] <= [First] => [Next]

Chapter 5: Broken Hearts Club

"What do we have to talk about, Amenadiel?" You ask, still holding the glasses of water. "Because I have your brother, naked and pliable in his bed, and I would really like to get back to that."

Amenadiel goes to speak but stops himself as he thinks about what you just said. You sit down on one of the bar stools that like the island connecting Lucifer's kitchen to his living room. Amenadiel shakes his head and addresses you again. "I want to know who pushed you from heaven."

You perk up at that. "Oh? Why?"

"Because. They could do it to other angels. And I don't want that to happen," he replies and you roll your eyes.

"So, you don't want to find out to get me justice, you just want to stop it from happening to others?" You ask, and when Amenadiel doesn't move you huff out a laugh. "Should have known you're too much of an angel to think of me. A fallen."

Amenadiel steps forward and says loudly, "It isn't like that!"

You get up from your chair and shush him, putting one of your fingers up towards his face. His breath fogs up the glass you're holding. "Shh!" You lean in close to Amenadiel, and whisper back, "Fine! But we do this alone, or we don't do this at all!"

Amenadiel nods and you nod back, before turning on your heel back to Lucifer's bedroom. You feel that same chilling wind, and when you look back, no one's there.

You huff out a disbelieving laugh and push your way into Lucifer's bedroom where you see the man asleep. You, quickly and quietly as you can, set the water down and climb into bed.

When you lay down next to Lucifer, he reaches over and drapes an arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"Everything alright?" He mumbles into your hair.

You smile and nod, kissing his chest. "Yeah. Just thinking."

"Really, because I heard noises in the other room…" Lucifer says.

You shake your head this time and reply, "No. Just, talking aloud."

Lucifer nods and kisses your head again, and before you can go to sleep, you hear him ask, "So. How was your first time."

"Messy," you say with a laugh.

[Now Playing: Church by Lyle Lovett]

You walk around downtown Los Angeles, watching as lawyers and business people run around each other to get to where they need to go, the tall office buildings that loom over the streets of LA.

But, right in the middle of the tall buildings made of glass, is a beautiful church. Stained glass windows rise up the sides of the weathered stone, and you see one particularly old one melting out of its frame.

You also see someone sitting on its steps with a cigarette in their mouth. Getting closer, you notice the white collar. Your eyebrows raise and you walk over to the man.

You sit beside him, and he looks over, taking the unlit cigarette out of his mouth. "A priest with a smoke. How ironic," you say, pulling your knees to your chest.

The man smiles and puts away the cigarette. "Heh. Yeah, this is just a little ritual. Something to… take my mind off things," the man replies.

"And what do you want to take your mind off of?" You ask, leaning your head on your knees. The man looks at you confused, like he's afraid of telling you, and you smile sweetly at him. "Would you believe me if I told you I was a fallen angel?"

The man huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. "To be honest, I would believe just about anything right now," the man says and you smile. He sighs and looks over at you, hurt and pain in his eyes. "There's a boy I've been taking care of. Connor is his name. He's at this youth center most days, but the owner is a drug trafficker, getting the kids there to do his bidding. Selling drugs. And I don't want Connor involved."

You nod. "So, what are you going to do?"

The father sighs and looks away towards the pavement "I'm going to talk to the owner, see if we can work something out."

"Alone?" You ask. The father looks up at you like he's unsure. "I'm sorry, father…"

"Father Frank Lawrence."

"Father Lawrence. But you don't exactly have any authority there. You may have some pull here at the church, but in this youth center, I highly doubt anyone's actually going to listen to you," you say.

"So, what should I do?" The priest asks.

You smile and place a hand on his shoulder. "I have a friend, someone who does favours. His name is Lucifer Morningstar. And I think you should ask him for help."

[Now Playing: Mariners Apartment Complex by Lana Del Rey]

Lucifer moans lightly and sits up, running his hands over your shoulders and back as you get dressed for the morning. He sits up and kisses your shoulder, up your neck, and eventually at your cheek. You turn and kiss him lightly. "What are you doing today?" You whisper to him, not wanting to break the moment.

He wraps his arms around you sleepily and places his head on your shoulder. "The detective and I will probably have a new murder we need to figure out."

You smile and kiss his forehead lightly. "That sounds good."

You feel him smile against your skin, and you lean back into his chest. This is wonderful. This right here makes everything that ever happened, worth it. But you don't know if Lucifer feels the same way. To him, sex is just sex. It doesn't mean anything. And, it shouldn't mean anything to you. But with Lucifer, he's the closest thing you have to someone like yourself. You have never met another fallen angel before, never met anyone who has gone through the same things you have.

You smile tensely as Lucifer pulls away from you and starts putting on his own suit to get ready for the day.

Eventually he gets up, fully dressed, and places a kiss on your cheek before leaving you alone. You wait a couple more minutes to make sure he's not coming back, before you walk out into the living room, put your hands together in front of you and you pray.

The wind whips up around you, and standing there, is Amenadiel.

"You ready to begin?" Amenadiel asks. You nod.

[Now Playing: Fallen Angel by Poison]

"So, who are we meeting?" You ask, walking down a busy LA street with Amenadiel. "Is this another angel you reached out to?"

"She reached out to me, actually," Amenadiel says, and you laugh.

"Huh," you say, with a small smile. You have to admit, you're a little excited to see who it is. You've been missing some of the angels from heaven. You remember sitting with Israfil, the angel of God's fire, in one of the many gardens in the silver city, talking about plants and how to take care of them. Israfil wasn't able to touch the plants though, because harming another creature in heaven was strictly forbidden. So, he sat, and watched the flowers bloom, but he could not touch them.

You walk into the small cafe, and immediately you are greeted by two, large, round eyes staring at you from the other side of a window. You tilt your head, and a cat falls from the shelf it was on, and lands on a table in front of the window, looking at you.

"What is this place?" You ask Amenadiel.

"I have no idea," he says.

You pay for 30 minutes in with the cats with Amenadiel, before the two of you go inside, only to be greeted by four cats all running up to the two of you. They rub up against you, sniffing you, one even tries to climb up Amenadiel's pants. But, Amenadiel just ignores them, walking over to a table someone's sitting at while a cat is in their lap and they're looking out the large windows.

Amenadiel sits down across from them while you pick up one of the cats, and he says, "Hello, Azrael."

The Angel in question turns and smiles at Amenadiel, who does not smile back. "What, no more Rae Rae? Are you too old for that now Di Di?" Azrael asks and you walk over to the two of them. She smiles at Amenadiel who rolls his eyes, before looking over at you. "Oh. I know you." she says, and you freeze.

That's right. Azrael is the angel of death, the one you see before you die. You don't remember anything from before hell though.

"I'm sorry but I don't remember," you say.

Azrael nods. "Yeah, yeah, I watched you fall."

You perk up at that. "You did?"

She nods. "Yeah! You fell like, a long fuckin' way. Though, you changed course halfway through."

You look at her confused as she says that. "What do you mean I changed course? Like I turned and instead of landing in San Francisco I landed in LA?"

Azrael shakes her head. "Like, you were going to fall in Asia, but you were moved over LA."

You stare at her, your hands letting go of the cat you're holding onto, which just lands itself in your lap and cuddles up. "But, you didn't see anyone move me?" She shakes her head. "Right."

"So, what's your name, anyways?" Azrael asks.

"[Y/N]," you offer and she nods, thinking.

"Yes, a few of the others mentioned you. I don't really have time to make it up to the silver city, but sometimes they come down here and see me! Isn't that sweet?" She asks. The cat in her lap reaches up and claws at her sweater, pulling on some of the threads from the large crocheted cat on her chest. Azrael doesn't seem to notice. "Though, there was someone who kept asking about you. Theliel I think it was."

You frown, and when you look over at Amenadiel, he's frowning too. "The Angel prince of love?" He asks, confused.

Azrael shrugs. "Seems so. They were asking about you a lot. Would come down to earth every few years. Sometimes twice in a year."

Your frown deepens and you mutter, mainly to yourself, "I've never even talked to them before…"

Azrael shrugs and leans back, letting the cat in her lap climb up her chest and sit on her shoulder. Amenadiel sighs and turns to you, saying, "I'll try and get into contact with Theliel. See if we can arrange a meeting with them here on earth." You nod and Amenadiel turns to Azrael, who's just sitting there contentedly petting her cat. "Thank you Az-" Amenadiel cuts himself off and looks kindly over at Azrael. "Thank you Rae Rae."

She smiles and you wave as the two of you leave. When you walk out into the main room, you stop and turn around, and when you look back at the seat Azrael was in, she's gone.

You smile and walk outside with Amenadiel.

[Now Playing: Would You Be So Kind by Dodie]

You walk into Lux late that night. You took the long way home, deciding to walk around the city for a bit before coming back. It's still packed when you get back, though it's not your night to work. You order a drink from Maze at the bar, and chat with her about things that have happened tonight, before taking your drink and going upstairs to the penthouse.

The elevator is empty, like it normally is, but right now it feels almost… lonely. You should tell Lucifer what's happening, but he already has a lot going on. He's working with the police. He has Chloe.

Your shoulders fall as you think this, leaning up against the wall of the elevator. You said Lucifer was jealous before, but now, you are. It's nothing you would hurt anyone over. You would never go after Chloe, but whenever you think of her and Lucifer together, something in your heart breaks.

You want Lucifer to be happy. And if it's not with you, that's okay. You'll move on. But your heart wants him now. And maybe later. 100 years down the line, you'll forget it ever even happened, you'll forget you ever liked Lucifer, move on with someone else. Because, well, you do have eternity. What is 100 years compared to the rest of time?

The elevator’s doors open on Lucifer's penthouse and you see Chloe and Lucifer laughing and playing the piano together. They're playing something simple, something you don't quite recognize.

The doors close behind you, but the two don't notice you. You turn around to call the elevator back, pressing the down button over and over again, trying to do so quietly, but it seems they heard you.

"Ah! Angel!" Lucifer says, stopping his playing.

You flinch and turn around slowly, a sheepish smile on your face. "Sorry, I didn't know…" You point back with your thumb towards the elevator and say, "I'll go now."

"No! No. Don't go," Chloe says, standing up from the piano.

"Wh-what?" Lucifer asks as she walks away toward the elevator.

"I should really get going. I don't want Dan to have to stay with Trixie too long, and I need to sleep eventually," Chloe says and you move out of her way so she can wait for the elevator instead of you.

Lucifer breathes out and leans toward her with a smirk. "Oh come now. You don't have to sleep."

She rolls her eyes and when the elevator doors open, she walks in. "Thank you Lucifer. That was very nice."

She presses a button, and the doors close behind her. Lucifer sighs and doesn't say anything for a few moments. You lean up against the wall and slide down it, not saying as you bring your knees up to your chest.

You look over at Lucifer, who isn't saying anything. You get up and walk over to him, sitting down beside him at the piano. You press a note, and Lucifer looks over at you, an eyebrow raised.

"Do you play?" Lucifer asks and you smile and shake your head.

"I wouldn't remember if I did," you say with a small laugh. "But in heaven, we used to sing. And while there wasn't any accompaniment, it was…" You smile and look up at Lucifer. "Fun."

Lucifer smiles and turns to the piano. "Here. Do you know this?"

[Now Playing: Vienna by Billy Joel]

He starts playing the intro and you nod.

"Okay. Ready?" He asks, and your smile widens.

You take a deep breath, and you sing.

"Slow down, you crazy child, you're so ambitious for a juvenile, but then if you're so smart, tell me why are you still so afraid, hmm?" You smile and lean into Lucifer, who laughs and starts singing.

"Where's the fire, what's the hurry about? You'd better cool it off before you burn it out. You've got so much to do and only so many hours in a day, ayy."

You join Lucifer and the two of you sing, "But you know that when the truth is told that you can get what you want or you could just get old. You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through, ooh. When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?"

You smile with Lucifer, and he points to a note for you to hit. You press down on the key and he smiles as you laugh.

"Slow down, you're doing fine. You can't be everything you wanna be before your time. Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight, tonight." You lean in and kiss Lucifer's cheek, and his smile widens.

"Too bad but it's the life you lead You're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need though you can see when you're wrong, you know you can't always see when you're right, you're right.

"You've got your passion, you've got your pride, but don't you know that only fools are satisfied? Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true, ooh. When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?"

You and Lucifer laugh as he goes into the instrumental, and you lean your head on his shoulder, laughing into his very expensive suit.

He leans into the music more now, closing his eyes and swaying, almost knocking you off his shoulder. You lean back and listen to him play, closing your eyes and swaying to the music.

"Slow down, you crazy child and take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while," Lucifer starts without you.

You jump in and continue with him, "It's all right, you can afford to lose a day or two, ooh. When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?"

Lucifer drops out and lets you sing the last part.

"And you know that when the truth is told that you can get what you want or you could just get old. You gonna, kick off before you even get halfway through, ooh. Why don't you realize, Vienna waits for you?"

You lean into Lucifer again, him adding in a beautiful set of harmonies, "When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?"

He plays out the final notes, and you let out a breath. Lucifer's eyes close as he finishes out the song and he smiles and presses the final notes, letting them ring out through the penthouse, echoing off the stone walls and glass windows. Lucifer takes his hands off the keys and places them in his lap, also letting out a breath.

You laugh a breathy laugh, looking away before looking up, and see Lucifer's eyes are on you, those red, goat slitted eyes and you lean up, kissing him lightly, gently, before pulling away.

"Goodnight, Lucifer," you whisper quietly. He goes to kiss you again, but you stop him with a hand and get up, walking to the elevator, and getting in as soon as the doors open.

"[Y/N]..." Lucifer breathes out.

"Lucifer…" You whisper back.

#lucifer #lucifer morningstar #fox lucifer #lucifer tv #lucifer x reader #lucifer x gn reader #lucifer x gender neutral reader #lucifer x nb reader #lucifer x non-binary reader #lucifer morningstar x gender neutral reader #lucifer morningstar x non-binary reader #lucifer morningstar x male reader #my work #My writing

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baseballbitch116 · 5 years ago

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Go On The Run(1.1)

Your Walking Dead - Daryl Dixon Interactive Love Story

Introduction: Follow along on your journey with Daryl and the others throughout the series... You choose your actions... Will you end up with Daryl? YOU have the power to decide that!

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

Setting: Atlanta camp, going on the run where they meet Rick(S1E2)

Word Count: 3200

Series Warnings: Gore, violence, strong language, potentially triggering content, sexual themes, death, mentions of drug/alcohol consumption and abuse...

Chapter Warnings: Violence, gore, strong language, racist comments(on Merle’s behalf), angst and a lot of confrontation

A/N: I’d just like to note that I used a lot of true dialogue from the show, which does not belong to me; however, Y/N and the rest of the writing does.

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“What’s going on?” You ask Glenn as he passes you. “Going on a run. Wanna come?” He suggests, stopping and turning to look at you.

You had never gone with them on a run before, what exactly do you do? Would you just get in the way? But then again, you’ve been wanting to find a way to pull your weight... What do you do?

~~~

“Yeah, sure. I’ll come.” The words escape your lips before you’ve fully considered the consequence of them. Glenn nods with a small smile before turning on his heel and continuing over to the others. Your feet carry you along to join them, your head racing with different worries. You don’t even have a weapon - what are you doing?

Merle spots you when he looks up from where he was leaning against the hood of the car, a smirk spreading across his face shamelessly. “Well, would ya look at that. Ya gonna join the big boys?” He taunts. Shane shoots him a stern look before turning his gaze to you, shifting his weight and placing his hands on his hips. “You’re goin too?” He questions. You can see that he is not entirely pleased - you know he doesn’t like too many people going on these runs at once - he says it puts the camp at risk.

“Yeah. Gotta do it at some point, right?” You respond, trying to sound nonchalant in order to mask your apprehensiveness to the situation. You need to do this - the world wasn’t going to cut you a break. Shane nods slowly, shifting his eyes back to the hood where they had some weapons laid out. He grabs a large knife that is sheathed, holding it out to you. You take the intimidating weapon from Shane’s large hand, unsure of exactly how to hold it. You haven’t killed any “walkers” yet, you’ve only stabbed one in the arm back in Atlanta and it totally grossed you out.

“You sure ‘bout this?” Shane asks, cocking his head to the side. Your clear your throat and nod, attaching the sheath to your belt loop and shooting him a confident look.

“Yep.”

And so you left with Merle, Morales, Andrea, Jacqui, T-Dog and Glenn to head into the city for supplies. You watched as you passed abandoned cars and corpses, debris and walkers. The city that you had lived in just a month ago, like a ghost town - taken over by the dead. Overwhelming sadness rushed through you as you recognized different buildings and streets - mourning all those who did not survive. All the time you put into your career - your money, time, effort... All down the drain. The first twenty-five of your life, all that you went through, for none of it to matter anymore. All that mattered was surviving, somehow - hoping for something better to follow.

The seven of you scavenged through different stores, searching for anything of use. Merle was distracted looking for booze and drugs most of the time whilst the rest of you searched for essentials. Andrea made comments here and there to Jacqui about Amy’s birthday approaching - how she wanted to find something to surprise her with. It felt wrong - taking things from shelves without purchasing them. You felt like you were living in some alternate universe, or in a horror movie - you felt guilty. But that did not stop you from grabbing whatever you deemed important.

You stepped over dead bodies cautiously, holding your breath as you tried to ignore the foul smell of rotting flesh. Flies buzzed past your face in the dimly lit rooms, feasting on the decaying bodies. Everything about this situation made you sick to your stomach, but you ignored it best as you could.

After about an hour of making your way through different buildings, Glenn decided to go off on his own in order to scout the area. You wandered through the abandoned Sears store, your hand clutching your sheathed knife cautiously as you scanned the area. Andrea was trailing behind you, Merle off behind the counter, trying to get into one of the registers. You glance back at Andrea, spotting her looking through a rack of dresses, sliding her hand across each one with a lopsided smile on her thin lips.

She looks up, meeting your eye and shrugging. “Could never afford these kinds of dresses.” She remarks. You let out a snicker and nod in agreement, approaching the rack.

“Me neither,” You mumble as you drag your hand down a pretty red dress marked as $350.

“You should take it.” Andrea smiles. You let out a scoff, raising a brow at her.

“Wear it around camp?” You muse, shaking your head with a halfhearted smile. “Bet Merle wouldn’t mind.” You continue, glancing over your shoulder at the graying man stuffing his pockets with cash. Andrea rolls her eyes at him and shrugs her shoulder at you, readjusting her weight with her hand on her gun.

“Just for the sake of it. Because you can.” She points out, walking past you to continue looking around. You are tempted, but decide against it - you’ll never wear it, it’s a waste of space.

After a while, you guys made your way up through the emergency exit toward the roof, T-Dog and Morales taking down two walkers as they led the way. Merle trailed along behind everyone, making comments here and there, trying to egg the others on. The hall stunk of rotten flesh even worse than the store, probably due to the confined space. It was very dark, thankfully T-Dog had a flashlight as he guided everyone toward the roof top.

About halfway up, the distinct sound of gunshots echoed throughout the halls. You all froze in your spot momentarily, startled by the commotion. Who was stupid enough to fire a gun in the city? Everyone made it abundantly clear to you on your way here that you do not fire a gun unless absolutely necessary - it attracts the “walkers.” T-Dog exchanged a look with you guys before breaking out into a run up the metal stairs, rushing to the roof top to find out what was happening outside. Was Glenn in trouble?

The sudden burst of sunlight as T-Dog threw the door open blinded you momentarily. Your squinted as you tried to take in your surroundings, moving out of the way as the others came out onto the roof. T-Dog and Andrea ran over to the side of the roof, looking around for the source of the gunshots. “I can’t see shit!” T-Dog hollers. You jog over to a different side of the roof, searching the streets for any signs of Glenn.

After twenty minutes, you guys still hadn’t figured out who was behind the gun or where Glenn was, so everyone made their way back down into the store, with the exception of Merle. Eventually, Glenn returned, with a new man. Andrea quickly blamed the man, dressed in a sheriff’s outfit, for firing the gun - slamming him against a counter and aiming her gun in his face. “Son of a bitch! I outta kill you!” She growls in his face, holding him back by his chest. You stared with wide eyes at the scene, startled by her intensity and the fact that she held a gun to an officer’s head.

“Just chill out Andrea, back off!” Morales says as he removes his bullet proof vest from his shoulders.

“Come on, ease up.” Jacqui tries, shooting a worried look between the two.

“Ease up? You’re kidding right?! We’re dead because of this stupid asshole.” She cries, her anger evidently masking her distressed expression.

“Andrea! I said back the hell off.” Morales demands, stepping into her space as she glares at the officer at the other end of her gun. You watch intensely, your heart pounding behind your chest as you watch this unfold - Glenn sharing the same startled expression as yourself. “Or pull the trigger,” Morales continues, causing Andrea to finally drop her gun, tears welling up in her eyes as she glares at the man.

“We’re dead... All of us. Because of you.” She cries, her face scrunching up as sadness and fear overtakes her.

“I don’t understand.” The cop breathes.

“Look,” Morales grabs his arm roughly and starts leading him through over toward the doors. “We came into the city to scavenge supplies.” He gives the cop a shove. “You know what the key to scavenging is? Surviving. You know what the key to surviving is? Sneaking in and out! Tip toeing! Not shooting up the streets like it’s the old kick or al!” Morales exclaims as you all follow behind him, watching in horror as you see dozens of walkers piling up against the glass doors.

“Every geek from miles around heard you poppin off rounds!” T-Dog exclaims as the officer takes in the terrifying scene before you.

“You just rang the dinner bell...” Andrea trails off.

The others continue talking but you don’t pay attention, backing away nervously as the walkers begin breaking through the first set of glass. Shots echo through the building once more, intensifying the situation even worse. “Oh no, was that Dixon?” Andrea cries as all of you begin taking off for the roof once more.

“C’mon let’s go!” Glenn exclaims as you guys run up through the stairs.

"Hey Dixon are you crazy?!” Morales hollers at Merle as he spots him standing on the edge of the roof, firing a rifle down at the walkers. Merle only laughs, firing another shot down below, the loud sound piercing your ears.

“Heh... Hey! You outta be more polite to a man with a gun! Huh?!” He drawls in his thick southern accent, hopping off of the side of the roof. “Call it common sense.”

“You wastin bullets we don’t even got man!” T-Dog exclaims as he approaches Merle, everyone trailing behind. You can already feel the tension brewing, knowing Merle has no problem openly expressing his racist and sexist opinions. “And you’re bringing more of them down on our ass, just chill!” T-Dog hollers.

“Hey! It’s bad enough I got this taco vendor on my ass all day, now I’m gon take orders from you?” Merle exclaims, stepping up to T-Dog’s face. You cringe at his racist comment toward Morales, wishing he would just shut up. All he is good for is causing fights, truth be told. “I don’t think so bro. That’ll be the day.” He continues, never knowing when to shut his mouth.

“That’ll be the day... You got somethin you wanna tell me?” T-Dog hollers, raising his hands to his chest.

The men continue picking a fight with one another until Merle says the wrong thing, causing T-Dog to swing angrily at the redneck, unfortunately missing and Merle hitting him in the face with the back of his rifle. Merle punches him in the face and the cop takes it upon himself to try to subdue Merle, causing him to get punched in the face as well. Everyone is screaming and trying to break up the fight before it gets worse.

Merle continues beating T-Dog relentlessly as everyone screams and cries, trying to get him to back off. You are screaming at Merle as tears stream down your face as T-Dog falls onto the ground, Merle kicking him while he’s down. The fight continues on and Morales gets punched in the gut when he tries to pull Merle off of T-Dog, Andrea and you being brought to tears as your friend is pummeled by the racist asshole.

Eventually, it falls silent as Merle holds his pistol to T-Dog’s head, the only sound being his heavy breathing as Merle stares him down. Merle continues to make a scene, until finally the cop gets up, catching Merle off guard and hitting him straight in the face, knocking him to the ground before cuffing him to a pipe.

“Who the hell are you man?!” Merle exclaims as the cop pulls him up by his dirty shirt.

“Officer Friendly.” The cop growls in his face. He grabs Merle’s gun, unloading it and catching the bullet mid air as he begins scolding the redneck. Everyone watches, stunned, as he scolds him for his racist comments. Merle continues to pick a fight and the cop seems to have had enough, raising his gun to Merle’s head and leaning over him. “You outta be polite to the man with a gun.” He sneers cockily in his face, using Merle’s own words against him. You and Jacqui smirk at the cop’s words - you already like this man.

After a while, you learn the cop’s name is Rick and he works with the other men to try to figure out a plan for escaping. You stay off to side with T-Dog and Jacqui as they try a few different things. They were going to go through the sewers but that didn’t work out and eventually, Rick wanted to try covering himself in the guts of one of the dead and walking out there.

You all stood around the dead man as Rick read his driver’s license, say how he will honor this dead man’s contribution as an organ donor. He and Glenn cover themselves in the guts of this man, horrifying you as the stench makes you stomach lurch. Glenn ends up vomiting and you very nearly do as well, covering your face as best as you could as they prepared to head outside.

As soon as the door was closed behind them, you all rushed back to the rooftop to watch out for them. You were relieved and stunned to see that it worked, watching them stagger through the hoards of dead in the streets. Everything was going fine until it began to rain, and it seemed that their stench was washing away with it. They ended up making a run for it and after what felt like an eternity, came back in a truck and while the other led the walkers away with a sports car that’s alarm was blaring.

You watched in horror as T-Dog dropped the key to Merle’s handcuffs down a drain, immediately realizing that he was fucked. He screamed and hollered, pulling at the cuffs as T-Dog scrambled toward the door, pushing you along by your back through the door. “T-Dog!” You holler as he slams the door shut. He quickly locks the door up with heavy chains and pushes you along the halls, hollering for the others to wait. You felt horribly guilty as you heard Merle screaming out, tears dripping down your face as you ran.

He was a horrible man but no one deserved to be left cuffed on a roof to be eaten alive. You prayed that those chains would hold up and he would find a way to escape.

You and T-Dog made it just in time, jumping into the back of the truck as Rick began speeding away. You tried to catch your breath as you leaned against the side of the rattling truck, your stomach lurching from the running and your guilt.

---

When you arrived back at camp, you exited the truck defeated. You weren’t able to bring back anything more than what you had in your bags and your guilt was eating you alive. You were brought out of your thoughts when you heard Carl holler, quickly turning to spot him running toward Rick. No way...

Everyone was stunned when Lori and Carl ran into the new guy’s arms, sobbing hysterically. That’s Carl’s dead father? You watched Shane stare as if he saw a ghost. Realization hits you and you feel your stomach lurch again. Shane was sleeping with Lori... You head off toward the RV, wanting to remove yourself from the drama and tension immediately. It did not concern you - you were overwhelmed more than you could handle.

You stayed in the RV until sundown when Lori came in to tell you that dinner was ready. You ate your beans gradually, not having much of an appetite as you stared into the fire. How did today go so wrong?

Daryl was not at the camp and you wondered when he would come back - given that it was now dark. Your head trailed to the thought of Merle still out there, sitting on the roof - if he was even still alive. You called it a night early and retreated to your tent, forcing yourself to sleep.

The next morning you were woken by the sound of someone hollering. You quickly dressed and exited, your stomach dropping when you took notice of Daryl standing outside the RV. “Merle!” He hollers again, a string of squirrels thrown over his shoulder. You meet his eye for a moment but he dismisses you, hollering for his brother again. “Get yer ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel!” He shuffles the weight of the dead animals over his shoulder. You grimace at the sight - knowing that it was a good thing and you should be thankful, but it was gross and sad. “Let’s stew em up!”

“Daryl?” Shane calls out, stopping Daryl in his tracks. Everyone is gathered around by this point and you exchange a worried look with T-Dog as he approaches with an armful of firewood. “Why don’t you slow up a bit? I gotta talk to you.”

“About wha?” Daryl asks, his own southern accent prominent. Shane makes his way over to him, Rick following behind.

“About Merle... There was a uh... There was a problem in Atlanta.” You watch anxiously as Daryl takes in the information, looking around the camp at the people gathered.

“He dead?” He asks, glancing up at Shane sideways.

“I’m not sure.”

“He either is or he ain’t!” Daryl exclaims, raising his voice and approaching Shane. You gulp and cross your arms, hoping that he won’t have an outburst like his brother did.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.” Rick steps up, approaching Daryl. He glares at the cop angrily.

“Who are you?”

“Rick Grimes.”

“Rick Grimes...” He repeats, sarcasm dripping off his tongue. You feel the tension in the air. “You got somethin you wanna tell me?” He growls.

“Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked onto a piece of metal. He’s still there.”

Daryl begins stalking back and forth, glaring between Shane and Rick bewildered. “Hold on,” He starts, wiping his face and gesturing to his head. “Lemme process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof?! And you left him there!” He hollers at the cop, making you jump at his loud tone.

Before you can react, Daryl tosses the squirrels at Rick and goes to lunge at him, but Shane quickly shoves him to the ground. Daryl whips out his very large dagger, making you and Lori gasp when he swipes at Rick. Between Shane and Rick, they gradually disarm and get Daryl to the ground, Shane holding him in a choke-hold as Rick tries to reason with him. “You best let me go!” He hollers as he struggles against Shane.

You are tempted to speak up but resist, knowing it wasn’t your place. After a few moments, Shane releases Daryl and he resumes stalking and glaring at the men. “The hell with all y’all!” Daryl hollers, waving his arm in no real direction. You spot the tears he quickly wipes away and your heart drops for him. You can’t imagine how he must be feeling.

“Just tell me where he is.. So I can go get him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

| Next Chapter |

---

And that is the end of the first choice!! The next part will be based off of this choice that you made, and then you will have to make yet another! You are heading down a spiral of choices and consequences. A simple decision like choosing to go along on the run... Is going to set the foundation of this story and all of the choices you are going to need to make following it!

Please leave me some feedback in the comments!! I’m looking forward to seeing everyone’s reactions to this series!!! ♥

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tsipasce · 4 years ago

Text

Same Difference, ch.04

A/N: Thanks for the kind comments, this is my first fanfic so let me know what y'all think– hope you enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03

AO3 | Fanfic

Walking home, Nanami was on a bit of a high. Work had been boring recently and her prayers were answered in the way everyone who wants a bit of excitement expects—working with a yakuza boss on a series of human experiments. Makes sense to me~ she thought. She was kind of done with everything at this point, having little in the way of plans today unless they involved relaxing in her apartment and binging some old sitcoms. After the amount of crazy she’d dealt with this weekend, escapism seemed like the right thing to do.

Just as she was about to turn onto her street, that same car from yesterday pulled up to the sidewalk. Sighing inwardly, she hoped it was just a coincidence. Please don’t talk to me… I barely made it through this morning. Haven’t I been through enough today? Then the car window rolled down. Crap.

“If we’re going to work together, you can’t be so careless.” He was annoyed.

Rolling her eyes, she began, “You know what…”

but as she was about to respond in a way she was sure to be unbefitting of most professional relationships, he handed her her purse from the day before. Nanami’s face lit up, realizing she could trash the list she’d made of annoying errands and phone calls she’d have to make in order to replace everything. Forgetting the reason she had lost it in the first place, she beamed, holding it closely, genuinely just happy to have it back, “Thank you!”

A look of surprise flashed across Overhaul’s face, then quickly reverted to his stick-in-the-mud composure as he faced forward. It wasn’t the reaction he was expecting, but he found he didn’t dislike seeing her smile. Considering many of the faces he encountered day to day only expressed either anger or apathy, it was nice to see something so different directed at him. He continued monotoned, “Don’t let it happen again.”

Driving off without another word, Nanami watched as the car disappeared into the distance, If nothing else, this’ll be interesting.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Having gotten little to no rest over the weekend, Nanami dragged herself into work. Walking to her office, she continued texting her friends whose calls she’d missed over the weekend, assuring them nothing catastrophic had happened.

A.K.A. lying. She thought to herself.

Still mentally buried in her phone, she heard someone calling her name.

“Dr. Watanabe!” called the nurse.

“Oh, good morning, Mrs. Ito. What’s the matter?” Mrs. Ito was a sweet older woman who’d been with the hospital for years. When Nanami first came to work, she was the first person to greet her with open arms, so seeing her was always a treat.

“Well, you have a visitor in your office. A handsome one,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh really? Pray tell…” Nanami replied in an equally mischievous tone. As unprofessional as it was to ogle patients, seeing a pretty face was just the pick-me-up she needed after her hellish weekend.

“Ooh, well he’s tall..” she began.

“Mmhm,”

“Well-dressed”

“Uh huh,”

“Cute, short brown hair”

“Oh my..”

“and these very intense golden eyes”

“Oh yea—Wait, come again?” She quickly snapped out of her daydream.

“Oh and he’s also very courteous and conscientious. He even had a matching mask on.”

“…I’m taking a sick day.” Nanami said resolutely, turning on her heels.

“Wait why?” Mrs. Ito asked but Nanami was already halfway down the hallway.

I cannot deal with this today. My nerves hardly recovered from yesterday…

Mrs. Ito caught up with her, dragging her back by the scruff of her jacket towards Nanami’s office.

“I know you young doctors can get nervous around patients sometimes, but this is a growing experience for you, Nanami. You’re one of the most competent physicians I know, so don’t be afraid—go get ‘em, tiger!” Mrs. Ito herded her towards her office and watched for Nanami to open it and head inside.

Realizing she couldn’t escape, she shakily put her had on the knob and turned. Mrs. Ito landed a final encouraging hand on her back, playfully pushing her inside. The door promptly closed behind her and she could see Overhaul sitting in one of the guest chairs across from her desk. She stood there for what felt like an eternity until he broke the silence.

“You’re awfully quiet considering how excited you sounded in the hallway.”

Yup. Time to find a rock to crawl under.

She slowly made her way to her desk and set down her bag, too embarrassed to make eye contact just yet. Sighing, she recomposed herself and replied not even attempting to acknowledge his jab,

“What are you doing here?”

“We need to finalize the details of our arrangement.”

“Fine. Which details?”

“Firstly, you’ll be using this to communicate with me,” he explained, sliding her a phone terribly similar to her own. “This will be a secure line. Do not use anything else when we speak.”

“Ok.” Eyeing the phone she realized it would be hard to tell the difference, so she took an old pen and overhauled it into a cute keychain in the shape of a crow. Nanami grinned at how cute she thought it looked hanging from a phone meant for ~espionage~.

“Are you a child? Don’t use my quirk so flippantly.” He chastised.

“Oh please, I’ve seen the articles and autopsy reports. If you can blow people up, I can at least make cute keychains,” she retorted. “Besides, it’s my quirk too and I hardly ever get to… never mind.” There was a pained look in Nanami’s eyes but it went as quickly as it came.

He stared at her a beat, questioningly, until he continued, “We also need to establish our method and procedure for this experiment. There is an address in that phone. Be there tonight at 7pm.”

“How do I know there won’t be an ambush?”

“I need you alive and we’ve made an agreement. I will honor my word.” He replied plainly as he got up and turned to leave.

“Ah yes, the word of an antisocial sociopath. My mind’s completely at ease now.”

He paused, “So that’s how they describe me?” Nanami could’ve sworn she heard a ghost of a chuckle before he opened the door, “Don’t be late.”

The second the door closed she let out the breath she’d been holding… If anything went awry, that would be the end of her, and no one would know. The risks were becoming more and more apparent, but an agreement had been made and there were too many questions.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Deep breaths, Nanami. Take deeeeep breaths. She’d been repeating this mantra to herself the entire drive over, trying to calm her nerves but to no avail. In her anticipation and he’d come straight from work, not bothering to change. She was wearing her white coat with a simple, but professional outfit underneath. It was fitting considering she was just going form one workplace to another, just slightly-less-legal workplace.

The address in her new burner phone hadn’t looked nearly as suspicious as she’d expected. It pointed to a traditional home in a quiet neighborhood that was picturesque and pleasant except for the fact that it was the heart of Shie Hassakai territory. She wondered how many of the “neighbors” were in on this elaborate setup. Nanami parked her car a couple blocks away from the destination and proceeded to walk the rest of the way just to be safe. Having to answer police on why her car was parked right out font of a suspected yakuza hideout was a possibility she’d like to avoid.

Even after taking a more careful look around on foot, most passerbys would see little out of the ordinary, but Nanami could tell she was in the right place. There were signs of a specific kind of disturbance in the areas surrounding the neighborhood. It was immaculate, careful work, but there was no mistaking what created it.

Most of this place has been “overhauled” in one way or another… What was he building around here?

After walking for what felt like an eternity, she cleared her throat, raising her fist to knock. Before her knuckles made contact with the tall wooden gates, they were opened. A man stood at the door in a long, hooded white coat with a plague mask covering his face.

They sure do have a flare for the dramatic here… Nanami noted, taking in the full ‘fit.

“Hello, Dr. Watanabe. Please follow me.” The man calmly replied to her quizzical look.

Walking in, the gates closed softly behind her and she was able to fully take in the front courtyard of the house. From movies she’d expected to see something akin to a fancy drug den, but this was serene. The pathways had been meticulously manicured, but were still lush with trees and tasteful moss. On the wrap-around porch cushions were placed perfect for a leisurely evening drink, and leading up to the entrance, soft lanterns illuminated the path and—

“Ahem. This way, please” The man politely chided, snapping Nanami out of her daydream.

She hurriedly followed him inside, hoping her gawking wasn’t too obvious. Once inside, the house was warm and inviting, but before getting too far down the hallway, the man stopped in front of a vase.

Turning to her he said, “Your phone, doctor.”

Nanami hesitated, weighing her options. Objecting now would just seem suspicious and I’m sure there are cell phone jammers. Might as well play it safe and play ball. Worse comes to worse I can make way to escape…hopefully. After some rustling in her bag and a heavy sigh, she forfeited her device.

“Thank you.” The man said, taking the phone and turning again towards the vase. Pushing it forward, a passageway opened that looked much less inviting. “This way”.

This is possibly the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, but here we go~ Nanami thought as she took the first shaky step down the stairs. It was deafeningly silent, the walls themselves feeling as though they had eyes This is definitely someone’s quirk. Continuing further into the depths of the base, they took a series of dizzying turns until they arrived at the first door she’d seen, in what felt like miles of these underground corridors. He knocked solidly and a familiar, muffled voice responded, “You may enter”.

The masked man opened the door, the light from the room shocking her eyes as they adjusted from the dark passageways. Overhaul was sitting in typical villain fashion on the couch of what she presumed to be his office, waiting.

“Welcome.”

“Good evening.” Nanami stiffly replied as he motioned for her to sit across from him. As it stood, she was outnumbered and still trying to remember the way back to the exit. A poker face and practiced caution were going to be her best tools to ensure she left tonight without incident.

The door closed behind them and the masked man who led her stood in the corner by the door. They sat in silence, Overhaul looking a bit too relaxed for her liking while he studied her. Usually Nanami would shift nervously, but she knew better than to be anything but firm, returning his stare. After a beat, he finally spoke, “I trust you had an amicable reunion with Kurono on your way here. He will be assisting with our research.”

Her brow cocked in confusion and he gestured to the man who had led her, Kurono now removing his mask. As she turned to look at him, Nanami couldn’t help the look of annoyance that took over her face. She saved his life and he sold her out.

“Don’t they have a thing against snitches in your line of work?” she spoke without thinking, but honestly didn’t regret it.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Overhaul put a hand up to his mouth, letting out a minuscule cough.

Did he just do his version of a chuckle?

“That only counts if it’s against your comrades. I was simply reporting pertinent information.”

“One, sounds like something a snitch would say. And two, thank you for confirming that we are in fact not comrades. I was beginning to get mixed signals, what with the random attack and cold stares.”

Overhaul simply replied, “You can relax. If we meant you harm, you’d have known it by now.”

“‘Relax’,” Nanami scoffed.

“Have I not kept my word? Since our negotiations, nothing untoward has happened to you, correct?” he asked pointedly. Nanami was still thoroughly annoyed but couldn’t refute that he’d at least followed the bare minimum requirements of their deal. She just refused to give him the satisfaction or brownie points for it. The fact of the matter was she didn’t trust him, but they had a job to do.

She forfeited their little staring contest, letting out an audible sigh before responding, “Let’s just get started, we have quite the bit of work to do,” she replied, exasperated.

“I couldn’t agree more, follow me.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They exited the office, leaving Kurono behind to take care of some “business” as they called it, leaving Nanami and Overhaul to head for the lab alone, her following a safe distance behind him. She’d relaxed slightly after realizing it would be more logical for him to keep her alive and if she’d learned anything from the reports, as gruesome as they were, it’s that his actions were always logical in some twisted-void-of-humanity sort of way.

The hallways were relatively dark but, in the distance, she saw a rather large set of doors. The lights became more intense and sterile as they drew closer and she noticed Overhaul visibly relax his shoulders. I guess everyone has their own version of a “happy place” …

Using his body to block her view, Overhaul entered a code into the keypad and the doors slowly creaked open. He began, “This is—”

“Beautiful.” Nanami managed to get out as she stared in awe of the facility and equipment, she had only dreamed of using. Back in her research days she’d used mostly hand-me-downs, and the hospital she worked for now had some newer machines thanks to some generous funding, but nothing like this. It was immaculate without a blemish in sight. More impressively, she saw no signs of her quirk. Whatever had been damaged, he’d fixed it the old-fashioned way.

Just as he was about to arrogantly confirm her assessment, he turned and saw her face. There was a twinkle in her eye he’d only seen once before in the mirror. Most of the other members only saw it as a means to monetary ends, besides Kurono, but he knew it was mostly just to placate him. To them, it was just another room in the building, but to him it was a sanctuary. Seeing someone else recognize this caused an odd ache in his chest he hadn’t felt before.

“… Thank you.” It came out much more earnest than he intended and he turned away from her, clearing his throat. “Now, let’s discuss procedures.”

Realizing she had once again spoken without thinking, Nanami facepalmed inwardly before hurriedly responding, “Y-Yes, of course, I’ve brought some ideas and hypotheses we can work from.” She stammered, patting her briefcase. As nervous as she was, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been excitedly hypothesizing the second she got home from their meeting at the tea shop.

They continued to walk through the lab, all the while Nanami inwardly “oohed” and “aahed”, fantasizing about how she’d get to use the equipment. It was a decent-sized laboratory with a rather open layout. There were two work benches in the middle like islands, each bookended by tables with subterfuges and water purifiers, and the walls were neatly lined with the larger machinery. Arriving at the end of the lab, she saw another set of workbenches facing a large whiteboard. Overhaul reached into his jacket, pulling out a file folder and laid it on the desk before removing his jacket and plague mask, revealing his smaller black one underneath. He then replaced his gloves and put on his own white coat motioning for her to sit at the work bench. Folding his hands he looked at her searchingly before initiating.

“Let’s begin by exchanging notes,” he said sliding the file towards her. She opened her briefcase, pulling out a file that was noticeably larger, sliding it towards him. He stared at it suspiciously for a beat before picking it up and taking his file back from her hand, holding them sideways so the difference in thickness could be easily observed. “This is part of the imbalance that needs to be rectified. If we’re going to consider this a partnership, I expect for these to be of equal size by the end of the night.” He said with an air of authority that had Nanami a bit miffed.

“So you want me to spill my guts?” her brow raised.

“Yes. If you’re cooperative, it will only be in the metaphorical sense.” He said matter-of-factly.

“I thought we were done with threats.”

“And I thought with the beginning of this partnership we were done being so adversarial, yet here we are. Where’s the sense in coming this far just to resist me?” He motioned to the situation.

Nanami knew she was being a roadblock to her own progress, but she had realized something in her preliminary research that gave her pause: they had the same quirk, but utilized it in completely different ways. He was already a danger using the quirk as he knew it now, and she was afraid of what might happen if he gained any further mastery of it. On the other hand, there was so much to be gained in researching the discovery of their shared quirk and what he could teach her about it. It was an impossible decision, but considering she was already in the belly of the beast, sharing notes with Overhaul himself, she realized she had already made it.

Rolling her eyes, she relented “Fine.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” he almost purred, “Now, show me what you’ve got.” He motioned over to a door in the corner next to a larger window. She raised a brow questioningly before he elaborated, “There is a chamber past that door where we can use our abilities without damaging the rest of the laboratory. You used my quirk in a way I haven’t seen before, in order to begin this experiment, we need to both know our limits and abilities.”

Taking a deep breath, Nanami marched towards the chamber with him, knowing whatever happened, it would at the very least be interesting.

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alkhale · 5 years ago

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Lost and Found (Jason Todd x Reader) Ko-fi Request

JASON TODD x new fledging superhero female OC plssssss

I wanted to try to make this one as open as possible because I wanted to give more free reign over the imagination of the hero’s occupation as a hero, but hopefully these work for you! Always love writing for this beautiful, beautiful boy :’)

THE BACKGROUND:

- You have a very interesting choice for occupation as a so-called “hero”

- Within the scope of that title, many brave men and women under that profession might not exactly consider you to be on their… level, per say. Several very, very big names have become only a bit or vaguely aware of your new, bustling presence in Bludhaven, apparently making quick time and moving all the way to Star City or popping up in Metropolis in a single night.

- Villains don’t really know what to do with you. They most leave you alone, to be honest, because they have a feeling dealing with you is just a headache. The only villains that really have any beef with you are big time thieves, and Cat Woman is not happy about your new rising popularity but she’s still staying off your radars for now. (You’re working on her)

- Most heroes advise you to stay home, they’re the ones giving you the most trouble. Small run-ins have them instructing you to go ahead and give up this line of work and perhaps join a local law enforcement or help-group, they think it’s much better for you.

- You, however, are determined, and you’re rather set on doing what you feel is truly your happiest calling.

Jason Todd, currently donning the sleek, reinforced metal of Red Hood’s mask, gave the drug dealer one last good kick to the ribs, listening for the satisfying crack of a few that promised he wasn’t getting up or going anywhere anytime soon.

Goons littered the hallways, their blood spilling over across the walls. The acrid smell of cigars snubbed out by their own fluids flooded the deserted motel hallways. Car lights were punched out in the front of the parking lot of the cheap, off-the-highway motel they’d been hiding out at like a pack of rats. It hadn’t been hard for him to find them, to be honest, a much easier job tonight more than anything. Jason was just a bit pissed off so he let off more steam than usual.

Jason tapped one gun against the side of his mask, a light little thump thump as he set his hand on his hip, surveying his work. He’d dump the cash in a fucking river. It was blood money and he had better things to do then get his hands on it. He’d rather just break another ATM. Fuck, I’m still pissed off. I should get Thai tonight.

Normally, Jason had a very nice, selective choice of arsenal on his person. Guns he’d tuned up and had tricked out. Nice, pretty things that never failed him. Classic knives, the works, he liked having options.

Jason let out an aggravated sigh, muffled through his mask. He scowled, kicking another limp body for emphasis and turning, wiping some blood off the corner of his jacket.

His fucking problem was that one of his pretty, nice little guns was missing. Gone. Lost. He was one hundred-fucking-percent sure it was his last job in Bludhaven after tangling up with Dickie Bird and having to scram before he received any kind of dark tongue lashing from Bats or the Demon Spawn pulled some sick shit like pulling Alfred up on speaker again to discuss his misdemeanors. Like the little shit can talk. Jason had come scrounging back, searching through the dockyard left and right for his gun and found nothing. Nada.

He really liked that gun too.

Have to put in an order for a new one. Jason rubbed the top of his mask, hooking his fingers to prepare taking it off. What a pain. Thai it is. I’m starving—

“Hi! Excuse me, but is this your gun?”

Jason stopped.

It took him a second to process what he was seeing. Only a second, because he sensed no blood thirst or killing intent—he still cocked his gun and pointed it at the newcomer without a single hesitation though because what the hell, right?—and he needed that good second because even quick footed, always adaptable, always moving Jason needed that fat second to understand what the fuck was in front of him.

Halfway through what appeared to be some kind of… portal? It was the weirdest fucking portal he’d ever seen and he’d seen some weird fucking portals. A bright yellow, piss yellow, stretching in a warped, warbling kind of flame in the middle of the air, as though cutting straight through dimensions. Jason could get a peek of something behind. A city? He sniffed the air. A dock?

In the middle of the portal, with one, combat booted foot out, was a slender leg covered in black tights. Black tights led to a black fitted top that was clad by a… a construction vest? A neon green construction vest. Over her face—he assumed her because of the body and hair, but who the hell was he to know, right?—was a weird mask of a man, like some kind of religious figure, covering her entire face. Her hair was pulled back into two buns on either side of her head.

In one bare hand, held out to him by this new person in the middle of a piss yellow portal, was his gun.

Jason stared.

“Sorry, I know, this must look strange, right?” you quickly apologized, stepping fully out of the portal. It disappeared and you now stood before him, mask and stupid construction vest and his gun. “Here! This should be yours unless…”

You trailed off, mask looking pointedly at the bodies scattered around them. “Oh, unless it’s one of these guys’s. Sorry about that.”

“What the fuck?” Jason said, rough through his mask. He still had the gun pointed at you.

You beamed behind your own. “I come in peace! Just trying to return this. Found it in the dock by… Fifth? It was glowing, so that meant someone was looking for it—”

“Hold on,” Jason waved his gun at you for emphasis. You nodded at it, waving his gun back. Jason almost laughed. Who the fuck is this clown? “I’ll ask you two questions. Just two. Depending how you answer, I’m going to shoot you, got it?”

“Oh,” you said, sounding a bit sullen. You glanced at your watch. “Will this take long? I have two more deliveries.”

“No,” Jason said. “Depending on how you answer.”

“...okay, shoot,” you said. You paused, quickly holding a hand when Jason raised his gun. “Sorry, I meant figuratively, please. Ask the questions.”

Jason cocked his masked head to the side. “Who the fuck are you. Why the fuck do you have my gun.”

“I feel like those weren’t phrased as questions—”

Jason shot at your feet. You yelped, jumping up. “Jeez! Is this what I get for doing a good deed? Saint Anthony! I’m Saint Anthony!”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “And I’m Jesus fucking Christ.”

Jason prepared to shoot your kneecap out and you squawked, tossing the gun his way. Jason quickly caught it, inspecting it for any damage before narrowing his eyes at you behind his mask. You wiped your hands off your pants like brushing off germs.

“That’s my alias,” you said, tapping your mask, a pious man’s face printed over it. “Saint Anthony! You know, the patron saint of lost things? The guy you pray to when you lose shit?”

“Do I look like I pray?” Jason said, pointing his gun to the drug dealer whose brains he’d blasted out. You made a small noise, as though just noticing.

“Well, you never know. Met some strange folks who pray and still do some very questionable things—let’s not get hasty!” Jason put his gun down. “That’s my codename! Have to be careful with this hero business, you know. I felt like it fits because of my power.”

You pointed to his gun and it began to glow a soft piss yellow. Jason dropped it in disgust, pulling his other gun back up and getting ready to shoot you. “I can see what items are lost! If an item belongs to someone and they’re looking for it, it’ll glow and I can see it like that. Then I pick it up and it teleports me to whoever it belongs to.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” Jason said. “You’re a human lost and found?”

“Yes! But much more effective,” you reached into a sack you had strapped to your back, opening it up for him to see where several more objects were glowing a piss yellow. “I decided I should put my talents to use, so I go around returning lost objects. Everybody loses something once in a while, you know? The other day I found this strange looking little USB and it turned out it belonged to Lex Luthor’s secretary and oh, boy, that was a sticky situation when Mr. Superman came and—”

Jason shot at your feet again. You jumped, clutching the sack protectively to your chest. “What the hell was that for?”

“I just felt like it,” Jason said. He tucked his gun back into his strap and picked up his now found weapon, inspecting it curiously. “Weird fucking power, sweetheart.”

You shrugged in a what-can-you-do manner.

“You said you were a hero?”

“Oh, more of a good samaritan,” you said, waving a hand. “I’ve just been working with the police lately on stolen goods. Sometimes burglars are real clumsy and drop items, you know? Apparently night vision goggles are very expensive so they’re always looking for those.”

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. Jason watched you in idle interest, having a bit of fun with this interaction. Been a while since he met anyone so fucking weird. He kind of liked it.

“Anthony, huh?”

“Yes!” you slung your sack back over your shoulder, sticking out a hand to him. “It’s very nice to meet you…?”

Jason tapped his gun against your palm in greeting. He tucked it back into its holster, giving you a long look behind his mask. You stopped, cocking your head at him. “What?”

“No, it’s just…” you rubbed the back of your neck. “Ah, nothing really. If we’re all squared away here, you mind if I take off? I’ve still got this pair of chain cutters and this funny looking stone to deliver.”

“You ever worry you’re delivering it to some weird place?” Jason said. “Or to someone who, I dunno, might kill you?”

“Oh, all the time,” you said cheerfully. “But usually I can take care of myself.” Jason quirked a brow behind his mask. “But thank you for your concern! I’ll be off then, Mr. Red. Thanks for your cooperation!”

You grabbed the funny shaped rock from the bag, a piss yellow portal appearing in front of you. Jason watched wordlessly as you stepped halfway through before turning back to him, raising a small hand in a little wave.

“Live a good life, Mr. Red!” you waved harder. “If you ever lose anything again, I’ll be sure to look out for it!”

Jason offered a lazy wave back, kicking a goon in the head who’d started to rouse.

You curled your fingers into your palm. The portal began to swallow you whole and you watched behind your mask as Jason turned, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You figured for this particular customer, perhaps it was better not to say he was glowing a very beautiful, very somber shade of yellow.

Looks like whoever lost you is looking very hard for you, Mr. Red.

#jason todd x reader #ko-fi request #jason todd #reader insert #batman reader insert #this was very fun to write

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icyharrington · 6 years ago

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Is It Wrong? (Michael Langdon X Reader)

SO! a couple months ago, @langdonsrapture and i had some... interesting conversations about stepdad duncan and stepbrother michael, and i ended up agreeing that i’d write a stepbro michael fic if she wrote a stepdad duncan fic. and she wrote her stepdad duncan fic, so..... i present to you, STEPBROTHER MICHAEL! i am so sorry for this foolishness.... (also, this is going to be a multi part series!!)

plot: michael langdon is a picture-perfect fuckboy, and, lucky for you, he’s also your stepbrother. how will you survive?

warnings: inappropriate relationships (I MEAN OBVIOUSLY), fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, high school au, drug mentions, alcohol mentions, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk

word count: 6k

tagging some people i think might be interested: @langdonsrapture @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @wroteclassicaly @langdonsinferno @americanhorrorstudies @sodanova @alicecooper19 @ccodyfern @starwlkers @duncvn @xtheinevitableprophecyx

The summer before your senior year of high school, your life was abruptly separated into two parts: before Michael Langdon, and after Michael Langdon. Up until then, your life had been peaceful- maybe a little boring, mundane, but peaceful all the same. You’d had a painfully average life with painfully average grades and a painfully average social life, but there was nothing to complain about, living in your modest high-ranch with your father in the middle of the suburbs.

And then your father met Miriam Mead Langdon, a slightly eccentric but nice-enough woman who oftentimes frequented the same grocery store he did. You hadn’t had a problem with Miriam; you were pleased to see your father happy after having been single for so long, ever since your mother passed away years before. No, you didn’t have a problem with Miriam- it was her son, Michael, that you couldn’t fucking stand.

Michael Langdon was everything you hated- cocky, rude, a smart-ass, spoiled. Everyone who met him seemed to fall under his spell, charmed by his smooth talking and boyish good looks, and so he always seemed to get whatever he wanted. There was no question of whether he was attractive, with soft waves of blond hair and admittedly beautiful baby blue eyes, paired with plump pink lips that always seemed to be curled into an infuriating smirk. Girls swooned over him, including your own friends (which you’d gagged over), and boys fought for his approval and friendship. It was beyond nauseating.

When your father had announced that he and Miriam were engaged, you’d been forced to swallow your distaste for the boy who, soon enough, would be your stepbrother. In June they were married, and soon afterwards, Miriam and Michael moved into your father’s home. Michael got the once-vacant guest room down the hall from your bedroom, and within a few days it had become an entirely new place; he’d plastered the walls with posters, depicting everything from horror movies to half-naked girls to metal bands. The top of his dresser was strewn with random things he’d thrown there: an empty Jack Daniels bottle, AXE body spray (because of course), an enormous glass-blown bong, a half-empty pack of Marlboro Reds, designer sunglasses. The entire room reeked of weed, sometimes drifting down the hall and into your room, but for some reason your father never mentioned it (which you were sure he would, had it been you who was stinking up the house and not Michael).

That entire summer, you were forced to witness Michael getting away with things you could never dream to: sneaking in girls at all hours of the night (no headphones were good enough to block out the scarring noises that left his room on these occasions), stealing your father’s expensive liquor from the glass-paneled cabinets, leaving the house at 1 am and coming back home after sunrise. It seemed that he was able to talk himself out of anything, and if you didn’t hate him so much, you might have even said you envied him a little.

The only upside was that you were graduating high school this year; the both of you would be off to college in the fall, and then you’d never have to see his stupid, smug face again. Or, at least, almost never.

That thought was the only thing that kept you from losing grip on your sanity; like a prayer, you’d tell yourself: only a few more months.

ii.

“Michael, I don’t know why you’re being so difficult. Just take your sister to school.” The even voice of Miriam filled your kitchen as you glared at Michael, who was slumped over a bowl of cereal- your cereal- at the kitchen table.

“My sister?” he repeated through a mouthful of corn flakes. You gagged dramatically, hoping the gesture caught his eye. “You guys got married not even four months ago and now I’m suddenly expected to act like she’s my blood relative?”

You rolled your eyes, frowning when he reached for the cereal box.

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual,” you muttered, grabbing the box away before he could take more from it.

“Michael,” said Miriam, her voice tinged with warning, but you knew she wasn’t actually going to do anything. Not to Michael, her precious, perfect baby boy who apparently could do not wrong. “You’re going to the same place. It only makes sense for you to drive her.”

“Whatever,” he griped, standing up to grab his backpack off the counter without bothering to put his dish away. Just as you’d expected, Miriam took his bowl and placed it in the sink without a word. “C’mon.”

You followed him to the front door, watching as he retrieved his ring of keys from the back pocket of his black skinny jeans.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just get a ride with (best friend’s name),” he said irritably.

“Because we’re no longer speaking, that’s why.”

“Is it because of-“ he paused, flashing you a shit-eating grin, cocking one eyebrow at you knowingly. Dickhead.

“What do you think?”

“Aww, come on, you’re still mad about that?” he chuckled, pulling his sunglasses off the front of his shirt and sliding them on.

“Yes.” You trailed behind Michael onto the porch, slamming the door behind you loudly. He dug his thumb into a button on his keys, and on cue his sports car- because of fucking course he had a sports car- let out its usual cheery beep as it unlocked.

“You mind getting in the back?” he asked you, tossing his keys up into the air idly and catching them before opening the driver side door.

You scoffed. “Um, yes, I mind?” You opened the passenger door defiantly to find the leather seat strewn with CDs, food wrappers, a math textbook which you highly doubted he used, and- you wrinkled your nose- was that a box of fucking condoms? Yep, condoms, Magnum XL with added lubrication (you seriously regretted taking the time to read the box).

“Ew, Michael,” you said, snatching up the box before tossing it into the back as though you might contract a deadly disease if you touched it for too long. “Very discreet.”

“What, was that the wittle virgin’s first time seeing condoms in real life?” he teased, slipping into the front seat and turning the key in ignition. You picked up as much of his junk as you could before throwing it haphazardly into the back, earning a wince from Michael.

“Not that I have anything to prove to you, but I’m not a virgin,” you lied.

“Riiiight.” He switched on the radio, screwing up his face indecisively as he flipped through the stations.

“No, seriously,” you said, getting in the passenger’s seat and shutting the car door. You considered putting on your seatbelt, but thought that might be something Michael would tease you about, so you refrained.

Why did you even care what he thought?

“Okay, then, who’d you do it with?” he said, reaching into the glove compartment to retrieve a crushed pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and stuck it between his teeth, rotating his body as he searched the floor of the car for a lighter.

Your lips turned down in disgust. “Can you not do that right now?”

“Uh, it’s my car,” he snapped, and you retreated. He found a lighter, flicking it on and off presumably to test if there was any fluid left, and then he lit his cigarette. He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke unfurl from his nose, before his face lit up once more with a mischievous grin. “Oh right. Who was it that you had sex with, again?”

You pressed your lips together, annoyed that he’d remembered. “You don’t know him.”

You couldn’t see his eyes due to the fact that they were covered with tinted lenses, but you were sure he’d narrowed them suspiciously in your direction at this. It was so obvious that you were full of shit, and you knew it. “I know pretty much everyone who goes to our school.”

“He doesn’t go to our school.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced, but you were grateful when he didn’t press on further. He rolled down the window, bringing the cigarette to his plump lips as he backed out of the driveway, hardly bothering to glance over his shoulders. You weren’t entirely sure how he hadn’t been in a car accident yet. Probably just dumb luck, which Michael always seemed to have an abundance of.

You stared out the window for a while, arms crossed in front of your chest as you attempted to avoid the smoke that Michael made no effort to shield you from. The morning sun shone through the window and bounced off Michael’s effortless mop of blond waves, just slightly overgrown, which he’d attempted to neaten with the smallest hint of hair gel.

He looked like something from a movie, you decided, with his leather jacket and laid-back stance, reclined against the back of the seat with one hand resting on the wheel. You couldn’t help but notice his sharp, angular jawline, clenching slightly as he craned his neck to look at the road, and for a moment you almost caught yourself… admiring him.

You shuddered. Absolutely fucking not.

You were halfway to school when Michael decided to break the silence. “So you and (b/f/n) are really done being friends?”

“I mean, I very clearly asked her not to fuck my brother and she did anyway, so yes, really.”

You saw the vaguest hint of a smirk play at the corners of his lips, his stump of a cigarette dangling out from between them, and you fought back the urge to backhand him.

“So since you’re no longer friends,” he said, putting his cigarette out on the steering wheel and discarding it outside, “you won’t have a problem with us fucking again, then?”

Of fucking course. You should’ve known better than to believe he actually had any sort of interest in what went on in your life.

“I hate you so fucking much,” you murmured.

“I know,” he said, seeming pretty pleased with himself. Why the fuck did your father have to choose the mother of the worst goddamn person in the world to get married to?

Michael pulled up to the school and into his front-and-center reserved parking space, which he’d allegedly won year-round access to in some kind of charity raffle (though you had a sneaking suspicion it had more to do with the fact that every staff member at the school was practically up his ass and gave him whatever he wanted). Pulling the blinder down and sliding open the attached mirror, he examined his reflection for an unsettlingly long period of time before turning to you.

“Do you mind, like, not speaking to me when we get out of the car?”

You let out a huff as you stormed outside, swinging your backpack over your shoulders with exaggerated motions that you hoped were noticeable. Then, still not entirely satisfied, you flipped him the middle finger. From the driver’s seat, still entirely calm and composed, he laughed.

God, you hated him.

iii.

How you’d wound up getting a date with one of Michael’s fuckboy friends was beyond you.

You’d been stranded at school, because of course Michael had ditched you after you’d made him wait all of thirty seconds after the final bell sounded. Next thing you knew, a boy, whom you recognized as one of Michael’s friends, approached you as you wandered aimlessly by the front of the school- you’d exchanged the expected pleasantries (oh, you’re Michael’s sister, right? he’d asked, even though it wasn’t even a question, considering he was at your house almost every weekend) before he’d offered you a ride home, which you’d accepted perhaps against your better judgement.

On the drive home you’d made surprisingly easy conversation, and when he finally pulled up in front of your house, he stopped you before you got out of the car.

“I’d love to take you out sometime,” he’d said sweetly. “How about this weekend?”

Apprehensive as you were, you realized what a prime opportunity this would be to get Michael back. Also, he was pretty damn cute, with prominent dimples and curly brown hair and tanned skin. So you’d accepted the offer, and subsequently arranged for him to pick you up at 8:00 that Friday.

You couldn’t wait for Michael to find out.

iv.

“So how was school?” asked Miriam, shoveling a pile of mashed potatoes onto her plate with an unnaturally friendly grin plastered across her face. You always dreaded family dinners- the forced conversation, the fact that you had to pretend to get along with Michael, the awkward periods of silence as everyone quietly chewed on their food. To you, it was a nightmare, but your father insisted on having “quality family time” every night of the week, and so everyone was expected to be around the kitchen table at 6:00 sharp, no exceptions.

Even Michael wasn’t able to get out of the dinners; he’d attempted every excuse in the book, but your father had refused to let up. Tonight Michael had claimed that he had plans to study at the library- an obvious lie, even to your father, who truly thought Michael was some kind of golden boy; you’d reveled in the dejected look on his face as he’d grudgingly sat down across from you, unable to get his way for once in his charmed life.

“Fine,” you and Michael said in unison, responding to Miriam’s question.

“You kids always say that,” said your father. “Did anything interesting happen? Come on, there has to be more than one word to describe how your day went!”

“Well,” you said slowly, glancing up to see if Michael was paying attention; it didn’t appear that he was, his head resting in the palm of his hand, elbow settled on the edge of the table as he twirled and un-twirled his spaghetti on the end of his fork. You decided to proceed anyway. “I actually got asked out on a date.”

Michael’s head shot up to look at you, eyes wide. “No way. By who?”

You scowled at him. “None of your business.”

“It’s one of my friends, isn’t it?” He seemed pissed, perhaps a bit more pissed than you’d expected, and you were curious as to why he even cared so much.

“Maybe,” you said coyly, taking a sip of water. This was even more satisfying than you thought it would be, getting under his skin, and you made a mental note to try and piss him off more often.

“A date?” your father said, eyebrows furrowed in a stern expression. You weren’t exactly the most popular with boys, and so he wasn’t yet used to the prospect of his baby girl being taken out.

“Mhm,” you said, meeting your gaze with Michael’s and flashing him a barely-detectable wink. Goddamn, did it feel good to finally have the upper hand.

“Well, that’s exciting,” said Miriam. “He’s a very lucky guy.”

Michael still appeared to be beside himself. “Which friend was it? Was it Jacob? Matthew? Chris?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“(Y/n), I’m serious,” he said, balling his fists up on either side of his plate so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Okay, what the hell was his problem?

“Oh, so it’s okay for you to run around with my friends as much as you want, but if I wanna have fun and go out with one of your friends, it’s not allowed? Grow up, dickhead.”

“Language,” scolded your father. You ignored him.

Michael’s nostrils flared, and for a fleeting second, you almost thought he looked cute, all riled up and angry like this. The second the thought crossed your mind, you shuddered, willing it away as quickly as it had come.

“This is different,” said Michael, giving you a pointed look that said, you know what I’m talking about but I can’t say it right now because our parents are sitting right here.

Still, you weren’t actually sure you did know what he was talking about.

“No, it’s not. You’re just mad that someone’s finally giving you a taste of your own medicine,” you spat, abruptly jumping to your feet and picking up your half-full plate of food. “I have homework to do,” you said to your father, not giving him a chance to protest as you hurried over to the sink and dropped your plate in.

You’d just gotten settled on your bed when Michael barged into your room, startling you as he burst through the door without warning.

“You know he’s gonna try and fuck you, right?” was the first thing he said, somewhat smug as he leant against the doorframe to look at you.

“You don’t even know who I’m going out with,” you said as dismissively as you could manage, barely looking up from the Youtube video you were watching.

“If it’s one of my friends, he’s gonna try to fuck you, believe me.” He waited for you to react, and when you didn’t, he let out a condescending snort. “Have fun explaining to him that you’re a big fucking virgin.”

This caught your attention, and you averted your eyes up to your stepbrother, his hair just starting to fall from its hold, soft curls clinging to his forehead and neck. He looked so much more innocent like this- sweet, even, dressed in his plaid flannel sleep pants and plain white t-shirt rather than his usual all-black ensemble. He had one toned arm hooked in front of his chest, long fingers wrapped around the bicep of his opposite arm, his muscles rippling slightly with each movement of his upper body. You licked your lips, mouth suddenly going dry.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you asked him sincerely, as if he might decide to drop his act and actually explain to you what was upsetting him.

“I don’t have a problem. You know, excuse me for looking out for my little sister.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pajama bottoms for added emphasis, slumping his shoulders dramatically.

At this, you laughed, full and genuine. What a load of shit.

“First of all, Michael, I’m a month younger than you. And second of all, we both know you don’t give a fuck about me. So cut the shit.”

He sneered. “Whatever. I hope you like getting fucked and dumped.”

With that, he turned on his heels, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway and leaving you alone and, quite frankly, confused.

You were in the midst of straightening your hair on Friday night when someone began pounding urgently on the bathroom door. You didn’t have to see the person on the other side, though, to know exactly who it was.

“What do you want, Michael?” You eased the iron down on a chunk of your hair, taking extra precaution not to accidentally burn yourself.

“You’ve been in there long enough,” he said, voice muffled by the barrier of the door. “I need to shower.”

“You showered this morning, dumbass,” you said, setting down the straightener for a moment to apply some eyeliner along the band of your upper eyelashes. You weren’t exactly well-versed in the art of makeup, but considering tonight was the night of your first real date, you’d decided to do some experimenting with the little makeup you owned.

“I have to pee,” he pressed on. You had been in the bathroom for a long time, enjoying yourself as you got ready and listened to music in only your underwear, but in all honesty you were having fun pissing Michael off.

“Too bad.” You brushed some light pink blush onto your cheeks, leveling your head back and forth in the mirror to make sure it wasn’t too much.

There was a scraping noise as the door swung open- that lock had always been faulty. Your arms flew up to your nearly-exposed chest, and your face bloomed deep red as Michael’s pale eyes dropped downwards towards the smooth expanse of your chest. His mouth fell agape before he shut it again, taking a step back, and you could’ve sworn that he, too, was blushing. Or at least it looked that way. It could be the crappy bathroom lighting, you supposed.

He quickly composed himself, poising an eyebrow at you.

“You own a matching bra and underwear set?” he mused.

You shifted, wishing he would just fuck off already, all at once feeling very insecure in your pale pink set that you’d purchased on sale at Victoria’s Secret a few days before. It was your first ever “nice” set of lingerie, and even though you weren’t necessarily planning for anything sexual to happen on your date, you’d thought that tonight would be the perfect occasion to wear it.

“Uh, yeah?” you said, hoping you came off as nonchalant as possible.

“Did you buy that just for tonight?” he asked you with a mocking twinge to his voice, eyes flashing venomously. Your skin prickled in embarrassment, and you looked away.

“No,” you said, picking up the hair straighter again and clamping it around another section of your hair.

“Aww, is tonight the night? Finally getting rid of that v-card?” You focused on your reflection, knowing that the cocky expression no doubt plastered across his face would only serve in making your blood boil.

“Will you just fuck off?” You shoved his firm chest with your free hand, hardly stirring him at all. He snickered, lips twitching at your attempt at being assertive.

“Have fun tonight,” he said in a singsong tone. “But just don’t expect some kind of amazing romantic experience. He’ll probably never call you again once he blows his load inside you.”

Before you could retaliate, he slammed the door shut, and you could hear him laughing to himself as he retreated to his bedroom down the hall. You could still smell his cologne, lingering in the air, even once he was gone.

All at once, a pit formed in your stomach.

vi.

The date was fine, until it wasn’t anymore.

Michael’s friend had arrived at 8:00 on the dot, wasting no time before he began showering you with compliments- he’d remarked that you smelled amazing, making a point to bring his face close to your neck and inhale deeply, which you’d giggled in response to. He’d gushed over how well your maroon sweater flattered your skin tone, eyes just barely ghosting over your cleavage.

First he’d taken you to a diner. Nothing fancy, but you still appreciated the gesture all the same. Over pancakes you’d discussed your plans for after high school, among other things, and you’d been pleased to find how well you both got along.

After dinner was when things had gone downhill. Instead of driving to the local bowling alley, like he’d told you he would, you’d both somehow ended up on the other side of town, parked outside of an abandoned supermarket.

Here we fucking go, you thought to yourself as he shut off the car and stared at you expectantly.

“So,” he said lowly, leaning in towards you while one hand slipped down the side of your seat, pushing down the lever to recline the back. “What do you wanna do now?”

“I thought we were going bowling,” you deadpanned. Perhaps you might have considered doing something sexual with the boy, had he not pulled some shit like this, but now there wasn’t a fucking chance.

“Mmm,” he said, and you cringed at his attempt at sounding sexy as he pressed his lips to the side of your neck. “I think I know a different game we can play.”

You lifted your shoulders up, the suddenness of your motions jerking his head back. “I think you need to take me home.”

He knit his brows, face falling, as he sat upright again. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Very much so,” you retorted, folding your arms in front of you.

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?”

“And you’re a colossal fucking douchebag.”

You hated that Michael had been right about something, and you most certainly weren’t looking forward to explaining what had happened when you arrived home. You felt stupid, naive, but knew you had nobody to blame but yourself. Your heart sank- there was no way Michael would ever let you live this down.

The drive home was completely silent, and the boy didn’t wait for you to get inside before he sped off into the night. Not that you’d expected him to, after he’d revealed himself to be such a complete and utter fuckboy.

It was barely 9:30 when you arrived through the front door, trying your best to make as little noise as possible so as not to alert anyone of your arrival. The second you’d shut the door behind you, the first tear fell- you hadn’t even realized you were on the verge of crying, but now tears were flowing freely down your cheeks. You wiped your eyes with the back of your sleeve, inadvertently staining the fabric with eyeliner, and you let out a second choked sob at the sight.

You reached down to take off your boots, creeping up the stairs with as much stealth as you could muster. The last thing you wanted right now was for Michael to approach you, especially not while you were vulnerable like this.

Sniffling gently, you padded across the wood flooring to your bedroom, gritting your teeth in concentration as you tiptoed past Michael’s room. Your fingers had just barely brushed your doorknob, however, when you heard Michael’s voice behind you.

“Back already?”

You nearly had a heart attack right then, crying out when his voice cut brashly through the silence. You whipped around, no longer worried about preserving your pride, tear-filled eyes squinted in frustration.

“Yep, I’m back. And before you ask, yes, you were right. He was a fucking asshole. Go ahead and laugh, I don’t give a shit.”

He seemed surprised, the amused look on his face faltering ever-so-slightly. “Told you so.”

He tilted his head, leaning his weight onto his shoulder which rested against the doorframe. It appeared like he wanted to say something else, and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“You know, uh, you might feel better if you smoked some weed.” He pointed over his shoulder into his room. For a moment, you were speechless. Was he—inviting you to hang out with him? “I have some good shit. If you wanna smoke some with me.”

You blinked in disbelief. Was this some sort of sick joke? Something about the way he looked at you, though, told you that he was being serious. Giving him a weak half-smile, you patted away the remainder of your tears with the edge of your sleeve.

“You know what? I think I will.”

vii.

Lying on your back, you watched Michael’s color lamp fade from color to color with bated breath, entranced with the hazy display. The world was so much more beautiful like this, you thought, vision blurred around the edges with a soft glow.

You’d never been high before, but after taking one hit from Michael’s bong (and getting laughed at for coughing so hard), you were gone. Michael was just as stoned as you were, his bloodshot eyes drooping at the corners, lying next to you with his hands folded over his chest.

It was probably the first time the two of you had ever gotten along. You’d talked for what felt like hours- about what, you could hardly remember, but your stomach muscles ached from how hard you’d been laughing all night. Maybe Michael isn’t such a dick, after all, you’d thought in passing.

You turned your head over to Michael, whose porcelain skin was bright pink from the light of the color lamp, and without thinking you reached out and touched his cheek.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a smile, full lips curving upwards on one side, voice raspy and thick.

“Your face is pink.”

“So’s yours.”

You both stared at each other before erupting into hysterics, and then, out of nowhere, Michael’s lips were planted hard against yours. It happened so unexpectedly that it took you a moment to register what had happened, but your lips had already begun to move fluidly against his before the thought processed in your mind.

You whimpered, grasping at the front of his t-shirt and twisting the fabric in your palms, his tongue sliding past your teeth and into your mouth. You could taste his favorite cinnamon gum, the flavor melding seamlessly with that of stale cigarettes, and your breath hitched as he rolled on top of you, propping himself up with his arms on either side of you.

You panted breathlessly beneath him, lifting your hand to the back of his neck and pulling him back down towards you. You craned your neck to meet your lips with his again, your teeth clashing noisily as he deepened the kiss. When he pulled away, a silvery string of spit stretched between your mouths.

What the fuck was happening?

“I knew it,” he mumbled against your jaw, sending vibrations through your body and straight to your cunt.

“Knew what?” You writhed as his torso pushed against yours, feeling the hard protrusion in the front of his flannel pants against your thigh.

“That you’re a virgin. You can’t even kiss properly.”

You gaped at him, heart racing when he brought one hand to wander underneath your sweater, gripping your right breast roughly. You mewled at the possessiveness of his touch, sinking your teeth into your lower lip, and he smirked.

“So sensitive,” he remarked. He pulled down the cups of your bra and tweaked your nipple before massaging it roughly with his thumb, earning him a breathy moan from the back of your throat. “Mm, you like having your big brother touch you, baby?”

You nodded fervently, the ache of your cunt intensifying now, his head moving to the crook of your neck to plant sloppy kisses along your throat. “This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it? What you touch yourself thinking about, late at night when you think nobody can hear you.”

Your eyes widened, gasping slightly when he attached his lips to your neck and began sucking a bruise onto the tender stretch of skin. He brought his hand out from under your shirt, running his fingertips along your bottom lip, and obediently you opened up for him.

He slid two of his fingers into your mouth and over your warm tongue, pressing down as he gathered your saliva on the calloused skin. He bit down slightly on your neck before swiping his tongue over the freshly-formed hickey, relieving you of the small bit of pain he’d caused.

“M-michael,” you whined, once he’d pulled his fingers from your mouth. He shifted himself so he was resting on his side beside you, bringing his wet fingers down to your pelvis and undoing the button of your jeans.

“You want your big bro to make you cum on his fingers? Hm?”

The vulgarity of your words sent a fresh wave of arousal between your thighs, and you groaned.

“Hm?” he repeated, moving his hand from the waistband of your jeans to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“God, yes,” you breathed. At this point, you were too far gone to think about how goddamn wrong this was. You’d never felt this way before, never been so turned on, and there was nothing in the world that could make you want to stop now.

He exhaled sharply in what sounded like a slight chuckle, and he returned his hand to the zipper of your jeans, pulling it down and shoving his hand into your underwear in one swift motion. You melted at the feeling of his damp fingers moving down the smooth layer of hair along your pubic bone, forming small circles over your clit once he reached it.

“Fuck-“ you exclaimed; all his experience with girls must’ve really paid off, because he knew what he was doing- carefully he pulled back your hood, exposing your pulsing clit, and with his middle finger he tapped lazy patterns on the bud.

Your stomach clenched as he dragged his fingers along your slit, spreading the abundant wetness there and sending shivers down your spine. Parting your lips, he pressed one finger to your entrance experimentally, kissing your shoulder almost comfortingly as he eased it inside.

“So fucking tight,” he rasped, sinking his finger further inside you with a lewd squelching sound. It was your first time being penetrated, and it burned as you felt your walls being stretched out, but within seconds the discomfort was overtaken with pleasure. “My little sis is so wet for me.”

He began pumping in and out steadily, your hips rocking against his hand instinctively, and it wasn’t long before he added a second finger; your jaw unhinged at the intrusion, your thighs spreading further to welcome him inside.

“Michael,” you moaned, eyes rolling back when he quickened his pace, repositioning himself so he could thumb your clit with his free hand. He tilted his head up, biting your swollen lower lip and pulling it towards him, toying with your clit so intensely that it was almost too much.

“You wanna cum, baby?” His hot breath warmed your cheek and desperately you bobbed your head up and down.

He slipped his hand out from between your legs, resulting in a disappointed groan passing your lips. Taking hold of the denim material clinging to your hips, he worked down your jeans and tugged them off, leaving you in only the pale pink lacy thong he’d seen you in earlier.

It was crazy, really, how drastically things had changed in a matter of a few hours.

He crawled down the bed and nestled himself between your legs, spreading them once he’d removed the thin scrap of fabric that was your underwear. You were overtaken with goosebumps as the air hit your throbbing core, his lips brushing teasingly over your inner thighs. You bucked your hips up and he snickered, pushing your pelvis back down on the mattress with one hand.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy,” he purred.

You would’ve shot him a look of distaste, had you not been so worked up.

Slowly, he dragged his tongue up your slit, your hand immediately flying down to tightly grasp at his mess of curls. He glanced up at you from underneath his eyelashes, eyes heavy-lidded from both lust and the THC in his system.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he said, swirling his tongue over your sensitive clit. You twitched, tugging at the root of his hair perhaps a bit too hard, grinding your hips up against his face. Latching his lips around your bundle of nerves, he sucked ruthlessly, sliding two fingers past your entrance for a second time and thrusting them deep.

“That’s it, cum for your big brother.” His words reverberated against your cunt and you cried out, threading his soft hair between your fingers.

He applied even more suction to your clit, turning his fingers inside you and curling them expertly to brush against your spongey inner walls.

It didn’t take much more of this for you to cum, the coil in your stomach snapping without warning. You cried out in ecstasy, your narrow walls tightening around his slender fingers, abdomen tightening as your orgasm flooded throughout your trembling body.

He didn’t stop until you fell back limply into his pillows, chest rising and falling and eyelids fluttering. Finally he pulled away, wiping your juices from his mouth with the back of his hand, a devious grin situated across his lips.

“And to think, all this time I thought you hated me.”

All you could do was roll your eyes.

#michael langdon #michael langdon smut #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon one shot #cody fern #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #apocalypse #ahs imagines #mine #duncan shepherd

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thanksjro · 5 years ago

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The Transformers #23- Chaos Theory Part 2: Everything Ever is Whirl’s Fault, and He Didn’t Even Do Anything This Issue

Before the war, Orion Pax is watching the news. Turns out Nominus Prime got blown up earlier in the day, as Blaster reports from the scene of the crime. We get our first mention of the Militant Monoform Movement as we take a gander at all of Orion’s awards.

Turns out Orion went to college. Wonder what tuition’s like at the Institute of Higher Programming.

An incoming storm messes with the reception, and in walk three guys looking for trouble Whirl. Whirl’s currently in custody, seeing as Orion doesn’t take too kindly to beating suspects within an inch of their life.

General rule of thumb: anyone calling Whirl “popular” or a “friend” is either trying to kill him, or has made the attempt in the past.

So these guys are trying to get Whirl out of jail, using the power of persuasion and being generally threatening. Orion Pax is too much of a good egg to be swayed by such tactics, however, so they’ll have to up the ante.

In the present day, Optimus is having a brooding session in the engine room- I’m only assuming it’s the engine room- and Ratchet checks in.

I suppose “frazzled” is a word we could use, Ratchet, sure.

Optimus feels as if his decision on whether Megatron should be executed or imprisoned for the rest of time is going to be biased either way. Dang, almost sounds like putting it to a vote with the leader of the Autobots would be a better way of handling this, huh Optimus? It’s almost as if you’re compromised here, and we need a little friggin’ democracy going on.

Ratchet asks why he hasn’t consulted the Matrix on this whole situation, breaking out the quotation fingers whilst referring to its wisdom, but Optimus ain’t too sure about all that either. When Optimus first got the Matrix shoved into his body, that shit hurt. It hurt a LOT, and he’d interpreted that as a sort of warning that carrying it was a huge responsibility. Way bigger than taking care of a dog. Now he’s questioning whether or not he actually wants the responsibility.

Hey, if you’re having second thoughts about being Prime, you ought to give Bumblebee a little more room to work and be the leader of the Autobots like you wanted him to be, and maybe consider handing the Matrix back over to Rodimus-

Oh who am I kidding? His martyr complex would NEVER let that happen.

Back in the past, Wheelarch and Springarm are waxing poetic about how cool their new boss Orion Pax is. He’s strong, and heroic, and making a difference in the world, and he’s got just the most beautiful blue eyes-

Anyway, they arrive back at the precinct to discover where all the criminal scum have gotten to- Orion already bagged ‘em.

You know, I think tying suspects to poles in the ground in the office section, packing the room so tightly they can’t even sit or stand comfortably… I think that might be a touch illegal, Orion. Unethical, if nothing else.

A bit later on, Springarm wants to know just what the hell that was all about. Orion’s been thinking about Megatron’s writing, and how he thinks the Senate is institutionally corrupt, and that visit from Whirl’s “friends” is starting to make him think that maybe the guy had a point. It bothers him.

Springarm turns to his faith when he’s feeling bothered by deep questions like whether or not the world government is is enacting a caste-system in an attempt to control the populace.

This just in, the future space pope is a goddamned atheist. Perhaps this is why interfacing with the Matrix hurts him- it relies on a mutual respect between itself and its Prime, and there ain’t nothing less respectful than thinking of the thing as a literal ornament.

Orion thanks Springarm for the advice, but he’s going to work through this without spiritual guidance.

In the present, Optimus meets with Rodimus, and asks a question he’s never been able to ask before: how did it feel to interface with the Matrix?

Well dang, Rodders, tell us how you really feel!

It should be noted that Rodimus does have some level of faith in the gods, the Matrix, the Knights of Cybertron, and several other Cybertronian legends and myths- which sort of makes the MTMTE Knight Quest look like a bit of a crusade, doesn’t it? Does believing in the Matrix let it bond more seamlessly with the bearer? Methinks it just might.

Back in the past, Orion Pax gets back from patrol to find the precinct has been broken into, and his two motorbike boys aren’t doing so hot.

Oh man, Valve’s going to be pissed.

Moving real stealthy-like, Orion moves to the holding cells, where he catches those guys from earlier trying to spring Whirl from jail. Well, two of them anyway. The third guy is behind him, and shoots him in the back.

Luckily, Orion’s old body-frame includes a backpack, and this move doesn’t kill him. He sweeps the leg of his assailant, shoots Whirl in the leg so he can’t escape, then runs to his trophy case to grab the fancy gun someone gave him. Wonder what it was for.

Alas! It’s not loaded. Which you ought to expect from an award gun, unless you loaded it yourself before you put it in the case. Which he didn’t, clearly.

Three versus one, and the solo act doesn’t have any weapons. What’s a guy to do?

This is deeply silly. I adore it.

Thinking quickly, Orion drags Springarm’s headless body into a closet. This isn’t necessarily a smart move, but give it a second. As the three thugs discuss murder-based puns, Orion prepares to enact a Roberts’ writing essential.

Corpse desecration.

Riding his coworker’s lifeless body through the precinct, he runs down his attackers, stabs one of them in the throat with one of his arm cannons in front of all the ‘bots currently in the cells, and goes to find Whirl.

Whirl, who knows to get going while the getting’s good, warns Orion that the Senate has eyes everywhere, and if he so much as touches Whirl his whole life is gonna get turned upside down and inside out, and not in a fun way. And he’d know.

Smash cut to the Grand Imperium, home of the Senate, where everything is blue and gold, fear tactics are at play on the political stage, and everyone is suffering from a nasty case of same-face syndrome. Senator Proteus is about to enact the Clampdown, a strict rule of martial law that will, under the guise of protecting the people and weeding out terrorism, in actuality allow the Senate to hoard power like a bunch of dragons.

Then Orion shows up, after fighting off the entirety of the Senate security force, while carrying a one-legged Whirl.

Got a nice shot of some bird ass, and Orion’s honkers are halfway out. I wonder if this particular chunk of fan-service was specified in the script, or if this is purely Milne.

Sentinel calls off the dogs, and Orion has his say. He throws Whirl on the floor, introducing him to everyone as the cause of every problem ever. Well, not really, but pretty close.

Orion, you can’t just say a guy caused two people to die and then not expect to have to deal with the repercussions of pummeling his psyche at some point down the road.

Orion goes on to mention Megatron, bringing up his writings and how they revealed to him the dark, ugly underbelly of the Senate that he’d been blind to until that point. This is still the guy who arrested drug addicts for using and tied them to a pole, by the by. He’s less than 48 hours into this Megatron kick, and still got a lot to rectify within himself.

Orion coins the term “Autobots”, reclaiming a friggin’ slur the other races in the galaxy have taken to calling the Cybertronians.

I wasn’t kidding.

The Senate members are starting to get rowdy about being called out on their bullshit, and have Orion removed from the building, but not before he can ask Megatron’s three questions:

1. In whose interests do the Senate exercise their power?

2. To whom is the Senate accountable?

3. How can the populace get rid of them?

No answers are given, as he’s taken away. He did use Megatron’s name, by the way. His full one, with the “of Tarn” attached and mentioned where he worked. Smooth moves, Orion. Now Megatron’s going to be targeted for politically-charged murder.

In the present, Optimus Prime’s made a decision on what exactly to do with Megatron- and his decision is to let Megatron decide his fate, because freedom is the right of all sentient beings, and part of that is getting to choose your fate.

Megatron picks death, like, immediately.

Optimus gets the Matrix back from Ratchet, who he left its care in- he wanted to be sure that he was still the person he had been back when he made that speech to the Senate. Glad your crisis of self went well, Optimus.

Back in the past, Orion Pax meets with a senator in front of the Ark-1 memorial, very secret-like. See this senator’s seen all the nonsense that goes on in the Senate, and he’s about had it. Forget what all Megatron wrote about, it’s way, way worse in reality. He can’t prove it, but the attack on Nominus Prime was an inside job, so that the Senate could get their hands on the Matrix and figure out how it creates life.

I know, it’s crazy.

Things will probably pop off very soon, so the Senator’s taken the liberty of modifying Orion Pax’s chest cavity while he was passed out receiving repairs.

So the guy made a little hidey-hole for the Matrix in Orion’s body, so that he could one day be Prime.

Hey.

Hey, Senator.

Consent is sexy, man. Don’t be like that.

#transformers #jro #the transformers 2009 #issue 23 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing #overthinking about robots

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twi-sight2020 · 5 years ago

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Chapter 11, OH FUCK ITS MIDNIGHT SUN, and Why I won’t be getting in on that particular discourse this week

So first, brief bit of HOLY FUCK NEW TWILIGHT IN 2020! I’m prepared to go be trash, i’ve got this shit preordered, and will probably not leave the house till I’ve finished it. I’ve seen a lot of things going around about the ethics of giving SMeyer money considering certain sexist things she seems to endorse, her treatment of natives, etc. Frankly, i’m sue I could do whole post on this but right now guys....I’m tired. I got the new this weekend that my father was involved in a motorcycle accident and did not survive. the rest of this week has been a cluster of funeral planning, trying to figure out his estate, family drama, people messaging left and right and...you know, dealing with my own emotions on top of it all. So, quite frankly, I’m going to let myself enjoy this little bit of happiness and not bother being “woke “ for a few days. I’ve spent time being shamed for what i liked as a teenager, I’m not gonna be drug into that now as an adult. All that being said, it means I had to postpone my liver test and, considering the week I’ve had, I’mma enjoy my last week of not knowing and enjoy a nice sangria while writing this. Ok, enough me, I know what we’re all here for! _____________________ Today is movie day in class and Bella and Edward are suffering from serious repression, each doing there best to ...not touch the other, you know, in case being that close makes Edward want to EAT her. Like, really can’t wait for Midnight Sun, because if it’s anything like the bits of the draft she had on her site....wheeeew, Eddie really wanted to kill our girl. Like...Murder. Like he was gonna murder the whole damn class if he had to, alright? Boy was HUNGRY. So it’s no surprise the two of them have to sit close without...actually touching. of course, when he drops her off for gym, he traces her cheekbone and...damn if this didn’t seem pretty hot to me when I read it the first time, hell, even now it conjures up those butterflies of first love and how one touch felt like magic and took your breath away. Say what one wants about the writing in these books (and we all know it’s not perfect) but she does a good job of capturing how fucking overwhelming first love (and all those other first) can be. Mike tries to be a good boy and offers to be Bella’s partner in gym, despite the fact she literally hits herself in the head with a racket.... bless and I thought I was uncoordinated. Matt then says how he doesn’t like Bella being with Edward because ”He looks at you like...like you’re something to eat.” Even Bella is laughing at this and has to run off because it’s fucking hysterical. Like, bless it when poor humans have a moment of clarity in these books, because most mortals come off as hella dumb in this series. Like...maybe not as oblivious as the denizens of Sunnydale in the Buffyverse but...still pretty unaware. Edward meets her afterwards, and he is pretty pissy knowing what Mike is thinking...but Bella is more ticked because of the fact Edward was listening in in order to spy on her in gym class. She forces him to apologize and wants him promise not to do it again but...he counters by saying she can drive on Saturday instead. And she ...gives in. Dammit Bella, I was rooting for you to tell his ass off more, make him realize what creep he was being but...no, can’t have that, gotta get back to “A more pressing question” Which, is this case is just Bella wondering if he’ll tell her now why she can’t watch him hunt. Well, gee Bella, you think it may have something to do with how you’re the most yummy prey he can think of? Maybe? Just a lil bit? And, of course, it is. Edward lets her know that the hunt mean giving over to instinct...and that his smell would be leading the way. The two have a stare down where Bella...literally stops breathing? Like damn, I’ve lost my breath before but... girl...that’s unhealty. Edward walks her in and tells her tomorrow he’s gonna be the one asking the questions. Oh, goody, more about the human instead of the vampire, right? But it will be nice to know more about the main character. we live in Bella’s head, but that gives us very little input on WHO she was before the book. After all, I don’t spend every day waking up “My name is AJ, that not my real name, just a nickname, i am 29 years old, and I like YA novels because I’m trash, Comic books, because I’m trash, and I’m a crazy cat mom who drinks wine and takes lots of meds.” See what I mean? First person might give more insight to a characters thought process, but as far a letting us into all these bits and pieces, it can fall flat. She goes home, dreams of Edward, avoids answering her father’s questions about Seattle and the dance...and Edward picks her up the next day where he begins to question her. Her favorite color changes from day to day, but today is is Brown, because it’s warm and she..hates the green stuff that grows here. Wow Bella that uh... huh. Odd but, she’s a quirky critter. Apparently Edward has electric taste in music and has the..same CD Phil gave her(WHAT THE HELL IS IT?) and then we get...skimmed over all the things about books and movies that could have ACTUALLY gave her more personality outside Edward, SMeyerDammit! Instead we get her favorite gemstone being Topaz (his eyes) and how it would probably be onyx in a week. that’s uh...that’a bit much, but again...teenagers man. We get another quick run through of another movie day in bio, a gym class where Mike refuses to talk to her, and then...more question, most glossed over, though we do get a bit of insight on how Bella feels about her home in Arizona, how she finds it hard to describe why it is so beautiful to her. That i can understand. My childhood home, was not in a beautiful or glamorous area. It wasn’t the largest house on earth, it was very much lived it...but it’s the most beautiful place on earth to me. Because of the memories, because it was the place that made me...so yea, I get Bella here. And then we get the “It’s Twilight” line that explains the whole damn title of the book. It’s the safest time of day for them, blah blah, Bella likes nighttime even though Edward finds it sad and predictable... “Hello Darkeness my old friend...” Yea, sorry, whenever I hear that it reminds me of Edward. Then, Edward begins to act like a freak and bounces out of there faster than I preordered Midnight Sun. “Another complication.” he says. But what is the complication? Well it’s Jacob rolling up in there....with his daddy in tow. And Billy, Billy does not look happy, in fact, Bella is quite certain-from his look alone- that Billy 100% believes the “legends” of his people. Yea...Billy has a pretty good idea that the Cullens are straight up vampires... and he is not having it. And that’s where we leave off for the day. Next chapter we hit the halfway mark, so that’s gonna be an adventure. Till then, Stay Safe, AJ

#Twilight #stephanie meyer #edward cullen #Bella Swan #twilight reread #twilight reread 2020 #twilight chapter 11

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crystalninjaphoenix · 5 years ago

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Chaos Theory

Part Ten

(Finale. I scheduled this whole series so the final part would go up on Halloween. This fic is my spooky special! Hope you guys have enjoyed reading as much as I’ve had fun writing <3)

"I hate this guy so much,” Marvin muttered. “He gives us no information, then makes us climb stairs.”

He also tried to kill us, JJ added.

“Well, that’s a given.”

Chase didn’t participate in the banter. He was too busy making sure Schneep was getting up the staircase well enough. A difficult job, when his friend kept stumbling and tripping over the steps. Chase was going to make sure nothing happened to him. Because god, he’d spent the last few hours terrified and grieving and he wasn’t going to let that repeat ever again.

“Huh. There’s a door. The last staircase didn’t have a door.” Marvin stepped aside so the others could see the metal door blocking their way to the third floor.

Chase frowned. “That looks...ominous. But, well, we have to open it, so do it already.”

Marvin nodded, grabbed the handle, and with a heave he pushed the door open. The four staggered into the room beyond.

A voice rang out. “Welcome, everyone, to the final challenge!”

The room was brightly-lit, studio lights shining into every shadowy corner. Cameras were set up around the walls, and the walls themselves were lined with screens. A few were linked to the cameras in the room, but many showed areas around the city, including the exteriors and interiors of all the buildings that the group had visited during the course of this twisted game.

“Guys!” A voice shouted, followed by a clattering rattle.

Part of the room was blocked off, a wire mesh reaching from floor-to-ceiling, caging off a corner. Inside the blocked-off section was Jackie, fingers poking through the mesh holes as he shook it.

“Jackie!” Marvin shouted, distressed.

What happened? JJ asked.

“What happened was this fucking coward decided to shoot me with a dart and I passed out,” Jackie said, scowling. “But nevermind about that. Are you okay? Wait...wait, Henrik?!”

“Surprise, he’s alive!” Chase said, smiling despite the situation. Schneep managed to focus on Jackie and give a small wave.

“Oh my god.” Jackie shook his head, grabbing his hair with his hands. “Oh my god,” he repeated with a breathy laugh and a smile. But that relief faded to confusion. “How, though? I-I saw—”

“What you saw was no more than a clever—and expensive—ruse,” a voice said. “Believe it or not, finding really good fake bodies is pretty difficult. Especially if you’re not going to explain what you’re using them for.”

Everyone’s attention turned towards the source of the voice. On the opposite wall, an especially large screen was mounted on the wall, displaying a blank red image. Underneath the screen was what looked like a makeshift control panel, a desk with all sorts of electronic, technical devices, wires running from consoles of buttons and disappearing into the walls. In front of the control station was a simple swivel desk chair. And sitting in the chair was a man wearing a mask.

“Oh my god, it’s him,” Chase gaped, unconsciously shifting his body so he was in between the man—the gamemaster—and Schneep.

“Oh great! I’m gonna fucking kill him!” Marvin’s eyes flared bright green.

“Whoa, hey, before you go any further, let me explain why you’re not going to want to do that.” The gamemaster picked up a device from the table, one resembling a remote control. “Now, you should notice how you four are standing on tile, but the floor beneath your friend Jackieboy’s feet is made of metal. Do you see that small box near the ceiling? That’s wired up to deliver 6 amps of electricity through that area. Which may not sound like a lot, but—” He laughed. “—is actually definitely enough to kill a human being. And that’s going to go off in, oh...let’s see, how long is it until your time’s up for the game?” A timer popped up on the screen behind him, showing 22 minutes, counting downward. “Oh yeah, that long! Unless I deactivate it with the code that I keep stored inside my head and nowhere else.”

Marvin’s eyes dimmed back to their normal blue. He looked the gamemaster over. He didn’t look like anything special. Wasn’t taller or heavier than average. His hair was ordinary brown, and wild like someone had messed it up in a fit of rage. He wore a black jacket, blue jeans, and a black t-shirt with that symbol—red skull inside a circle divided in four parts—on the chest. But then there was that mask. That red mask with that white smile, and black eyes that you could feel staring at you. Not to mention how this guy apparently planned out everything. “Fuck you,” Marvin growled, but he made no further move.

But there has to be a way to get Jackie out of here! JJ signed. Is there some way to get that code?

“There has to be,” Chase said. He looked at the gamemaster. “Look, there’s gotta be a way for us to win this, right? You wouldn’t put us in an impossible situation! That would kinda defeat the purpose of this being a game.”

“You’re right!” The gamemaster twirled the remote like a baton. “You guys have gotten farther than anyone’s gotten in a long time, but can you go all the way? Why don’t you all take a seat? I bet you’re getting tired of carrying your doctor friend around, and I can tell you that’s not going to wear off for a while.”

Schneep had the presence of mind to flip the gamemaster off.

“Second time tonight, that’s a new record.” The gamemaster leaned back in his chair. “Alright. Here’s how it’s going to work. I’m going to ask you four riddles. You can work together to solve them. If you get them all right before time runs out, then you win! If you don’t get them all before the time limit, then that current’s going to set off. And if you give me a wrong answer at any point, you get a warning shock. Alright?”

Chase had never before wanted to shoot anyone so badly. He looked around at the others.

“Guys, we’re not really in a position to negotiate,” Jackie said. He was surprisingly calm, for being told his life depended on getting the right answers on a riddle quiz.

“Negotiate with my flaming—ugh, fine,” Marvin grumbled. He sat on the floor, crossing his legs. “Might as well get comfortable.”

I suppose we have to, JJ sighed.

“Yeah.” Chase looked back at the gamemaster. “Okay, we’re ready for your riddles.”

“Great!” The gamemaster clapped his hands once, then stopped halfway before clapping again. “Here, first one’s a freebie. What walks on four legs in the morning, two in the afternoon, and three in the evening?”

Oh that one! JJ signed. I know that one.

“It’s like, the stages of life, isn’t it?” Jackie asked, biting his thumbnail. “Baby, then adult, then an old person with a cane.”

“Technically kids walk on two legs, too,” Marvin pointed out. “And teenagers.”

“It’s simplified,” the gamemaster said. “But anyway, you got that one right! Good job, point for you.” He pressed a button on the control station, and a green checkmark appeared on the screen beneath the timer. “Now, second riddle. Listen carefully to the words: Can you answer this? If there’s a room with seven people, then you walk in and murder four, how many people are in the room?”

There was silence for a moment. Then Marvin spoke, “Five, right? Cause you’ll stay in the room, the four dead bodies will stay in there too, but the three people would probably run away.”

“Are we counting dead bodies as people?” Chase asked.

I think we would, that would make the riddle more difficult at first glance, JJ added.

“Yeah, so five?” Jackie asked.

“Five. The answer is five,” Chase said.

“Oh, I’m sorry ‘bout that.” The gamemaster pressed a button on the remote.

Jackie suddenly shrieked, jumping and stumbling back. “Sh-shit,” he stammered. “That—that—I wasn’t expecting—”

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” Chase asked, half-reaching towards the mesh wall before realizing it might shock him too.

“I-I-I’m fine,” Jackie said, shaking his head. “I just...that felt...weird.”

“Do we not count the bodies, then?” Marvin asked, pulling his fingers nervously.

“I mean, I guess we don’t?” Chase guessed. “But I don’t want to get it wrong agai—ow! Schneep, did you poke me?”

Schneep had. “Words...” he said. “Listen...listen to the...word...ing.” Even that small phrase had taken a lot of effort to push through whatever haze of drug was in his system, and his head immediately fell forward. Chase staggered a bit as Schneep leaned more weight on him.

“Listen to the wording?” Marvin frowned. “The riddle was ‘if there’s a room with seven people, then you walk in and murder four, how many people are in the room?’ What could you hear in the wording there?”

JJ’s eyes widened. No, that wasn’t all! he signed hurriedly. There was a first question. He asked, ‘can you answer this?’ It’s a yes or no question!

Chase’s jaw dropped. “Oh, you bitch. Alright, then. Yes, we can answer that question.”

“There you go!” Another checkmark appeared on the screen behind the gamemaster.. “Doing pretty good for time. Now, this one’s a simple format of a riddle, pretty standard. Now...what belongs to you, but other people use it more than you?”

“My fucking...YouTube videos, I dunno,” Chase mumbled. He laughed suddenly. “What about ‘my life’!? That’s totally the answer, guys.”

“Chase, please, don’t fall apart now,” Jackie said softly. “We can do this. We have plenty of time left.”

“My...breath when I’m giving CPR,” Marvin mumbled, rubbing his head.

JJ frowned. I don’t think it’s anything that specific.

“Well, obviously, we’re just throwing things out there right now,” Jackie said. “Gets you warmed up.”

“What, you weren’t warmed up by my last four sets of puzzles?” The gamemaster sounded slightly offended. He shook his head.” Well, that was three wrong answers in a row.”

Chase’s eyes widened. “Wait, no, those don’t—”

Jackie screamed, falling to the floor. A few loose blue sparks danced around the mesh. Once it was over, he lay on the floor, panting. JJ dropped to the floor beside him and started asking if he was alright. Chase would’ve done the same, if he wasn’t concerned he’d drop Schneep. Marvin, meanwhile, shot to his feet. “Those clearly weren’t serious attempts, you fuckwad!” he shouted.

“But they were attempts!” The gamemaster laughed. “And any attempt is a good one. Unless, of course, it’s wrong.”

“I’m going to kill you. I’m seriously going to kill you once this is over,” Marvin said in a low voice. “You better hope you can run fast enough.”

“Kill the body all you want, you’ll never be able to get rid of me.” The gamemaster’s tone shifted suddenly, becoming dangerously serious. Then it returned to normal. “But hey, you still don’t have the answer. How much time do you have left again?”

JJ suddenly looked up, and made a simple sign. It was like a flick; he touched his index and middle finger to his forehead, then twisted his wrist until his fingers were facing in front of his face.

“‘Name’?” Marvin repeated, confused.

“Oh, wait, that’s the answer!” Chase said excitedly. “Your name! It’s yours, but you don’t really use it except to sign papers, other people use it for you all the time.”

“Oh, very good.” The gamemaster sounded impressed. Another check mark appeared on screen. “And now...your final challenge.” He stood up, and recited:

“Only one color, but not one size. Stuck at the bottom, yet I easily fly. Present in sun, but not in rain. Doing no harm, and feeling no pain. What am I?”

“Ah fuck, it’s a multiple clue one, I hate these,” Marvin mumbled. “What’s present in the sun but not in rain? Like a—”

“Don’t say anything!” Chase shrieked. “Any answer counts!”

Well, he can’t understand sign, JJ said, suddenly grinning. What if we talked so he couldn’t know if we were guessing or not?

Marvin’s eyes widened, and he smiled as well. I like the way you think, he signed. His hands were slower than JJ’s, but somehow elegant. I was thinking some kind of insect or animal.

Jackie slowly stood up, shaking off the effects of the shock and processing the conversation. No, that wouldn’t make sense for the color and size clues, he signed. His movements were slower and bigger, but they got the point across. What animal comes in different sizes but just one color?

Besides, animals feel pain, JJ added.

So now we know it’s an inanimate object! Marvin argued. That’s a start.

“...You know, I feel like you’re plotting,” the gamemaster suddenly said. “Maybe I should...stop that.” He took out the remote again.

Marvin’s head whipped toward him. “No—!”

Too late. Jackie screamed again, falling against the mesh wall this time, muscles spasming. For a moment, his mouth opened and closed silently, and then his breathing resumed.

“Okay, we’re gonna have to...figure this out on our own,” Marvin said, stunned.

They all fell silent. JJ knelt by Jackie, checking on him again. Marvin scrunched his eyes closed, pushing his hands against them and swaying as he thought. Chase, for his part, sank to the floor. Schneep leaned against his side, a few mumbled words escaping as he tried to figure out the riddle too. But Chase could only watch the timer count down.

Was it going to end here? There were worse places for it. But still, if it was going to end, he didn’t want it to be here. There were cameras recording, this sick gamemaster would probably get some amusement from it, and everything was brightly lit. There wasn’t even a shadow to hide in—

Chase stopped. Wait a minute...he glanced over to Jackie, who didn’t look too good, still slightly trembling from the last shock. If he was wrong, then...he looked back at the timer. And he took a deep breath. “It’s a shadow,” he said.

The others looked at him.

“The answer, it’s a shadow,” Chase repeated. “It’s always black, but it changes shape depending on what’s making it. It’s stuck on the ground. You need the sun to make one. And it’s not alive, so it can’t do harm or feel pain.”

Silence. And then, the gamemaster began laughing. “Well, done, Mr. Chase Brody!” He began clapping. “Well, guess you’re better at this than your name would have you think.”

“Gee, thanks,” Chase said dryly.

“You’re welcome!” The gamemaster typed something out on the remote’s keypad. The timer on the screen stopped, three and a half minutes left. There was a slight buzz, and a previously unnoticeable door in the mesh wall swung open. Instantly JJ darted inside, lifting Jackie up and half-dragging him out.

“I have to say, I’m impressed.” The gamemaster dropped the remote. “You’d be surprised how many people don’t finish this game. A lot of people watch just because they want them to fail, but I think it’s a lot more interesting when someone wins. I applaud you. All of you.”

“I’m sorry, ‘people watch’?” Chase repeated. He looked at the cameras around the room.

“Of course. You don’t think I go to all this effort and then just don’t show off?” The gamemaster chuckled. “Besides, I need funds for this. And the easiest way to do that is to make people pay to see it.”

Jackie suddenly burst into laughter. “You’re a Dark Web vlogger,” he giggled. “I-I’m not surprised.”

“I am not a vlogger, I just make games for people to enjoy. There’s a difference.”

“Can we shut up about this?!” Marvin turned to the gamemaster, approaching him before stopping halfway. “What’s going to save you now, huh?!” His eyes turned green.

“Nothing, really.” The gamemaster shrugged. “But you won’t. Not because you’re a good person, but because...do you really want the others to see you do something like that?”

Marvin stiffened, looking over his shoulder at the others. They were all staring at him. “Fuck,” he muttered. He turned back to the gamemaster. “You, sir, are an absolute dickface of a DM. You stalk us for two years at least, and you expect to just get away with it! You may walk out of here now, but will you in the future?”

“That’s a good question. I mean, some people are always up for a sequel, aren’t they?” The gamemaster tilted his head. “And for the record, I’ve been following you for three years.”

“Why?!” Jackie suddenly blurted out.

“Well...I was actually originally interested in your friend Jack.” He laughed at the shock on their faces. “Oh yeah. Those interesting little moments in his videos, October three years ago? I thought that was his own little ARG he was setting up, and I’m not one to turn that down. But then I realized, it’s no augmented reality...for you it’s just reality.” He paused. “It’s...interesting, how many people attached to YouTube find themselves staring into an evil that wears their own face. Whether that’s a pair of demon twins hunting the souls of your listeners, a rogue virus that’s copied your face—or mask, in that case—or a twisted entity made out of the dark twisted souls of a pair of siblings you wronged in your past life. It’s almost like something about the platform attracts the supernatural and unexplained...” He shrugged. “But that’s just a theory.”

Jackie got to his feet. “So...you expect us to just let you walk out of here?”

“Actually, I expect you to walk out of here and leave me alone. And, well, if you won’t, I do have this.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a gun. “Can’t hurt to be safe.”

JJ shook his head. You’re mad.

“Oh hey! I know that one!” He imitated the sign. “I should really learn more of that, or maybe ASL. That could be useful. But that’s for the future.”

Chase narrowed his eyes. “Are you going to leave us alone after this?”

The mask’s smile seemed to widen. “What do you think?”

Silence.

“Well, now.” The gamemaster sat back down in his chair once again, taking the safety off the gun. “I think you know the way out, don’t you?”

And with nothing else to do, and a feeling of unsatisfaction, they left.

— — — — —

“We can’t seriously just let that guy go!” Marvin said the moment they were out of the building. “He could come after us at any moment!”

“Marvin, yes, I agree,” Jackie said tiredly. “He’s a danger to us and to other innocents. But it’s nearly 6:30 in the morning. None of us have slept. Schneep’s still fucking...I dunno, half-unconscious, and I’m feeling pretty shitty myself. We can’t do anything right now.”

Marvin actually stomped his foot. “Fine. Yes. But it sucks!”

It does, JJ agreed. Honestly, as soon as we are able, we should go after him.

Jackie bit his lip. “That’s gonna be tough...I’ll bet you anything this guy’s good at covering his tracks. Maybe I could do some hacking, try to find whatever Dark Web website he’s posting these...games on. But I don’t know.”

“Guys, please, not now,” Chase said dully. “I...I want to go home.”

Jackie sighed, then gave a small, exhausted smile. “Yeah, me too. We should also maybe return the stolen car.”

“We can do that tomorrow, now let’s go the fuck to sleep,” Marvin said, climbing into the passenger seat of said stolen car.

Jackie laughed. “That sounds like a good idea.”

JJ, Jackie, and Schneep ended up in the back of the car, with Jackie sandwiched in the middle. Chase was still driving, turning on the car and setting off through roads that were starting to fill up with early morning traffic. The sky overhead was a dark blue, no longer black.

Jackie wrapped an arm around Schneep in a one-handed hug, pulling him close. He was really here. He saw him die, but he was really here. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he muttered, blinking back hot tears. Schneep laughed under his breath, mumbling something about how he would try not to.

They had no way of knowing if this was over. Jackie was tired, burnt out from a night of adrenaline.

But they were all here. They were all okay. His friends were going to be okay.

Jackie sighed, closed his eyes, and it only took a few seconds for him to drift off.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #jackieboy man #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #chaostheoryfic

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jancys-blue-bayou · 6 years ago

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Yeah so Stranger Things 3 was painfully bad

Yeah yeah big negative post about ST3 coming up. Just... holy shit, my expectations weren’t exactly high but jesus I didn’t think it’d be this bad. Wow. Mindboggling to think it was made by the same dudes who made season 1, it feels like a different show. Some of the worst writing I’ve seen in a long while, parts of season 3. This got very long because it was very bad so it’s under the cut. Starting with the few positives and then away we go...

Of course there were bright spots, I thought what we got of Jancy was generally good (just wish there had been more of it. Just like... more lines between them, a few moments could’ve gone on longer...like after the awesome hospital fight scene jesus just let them fucking desperately embrace and profess their love for each other, it was awesome how they relentlessly kept going at the monster to save the other but can we please just have a few more seconds for a comfort moment after?) I liked how they handled the fight btw, apart from the Oliver Twist comment yeah yeah heat of the moment but still felt OOC with that loa a blow. Nancy and Karen scene was nice and um... well Max and El bonding was nice. And um... Mr Clarke! And I kind of dig Murray.

My main issues with it:

- The product placement. Jesus Christ. Okay, ST has always been a show with noticeable product placement. But it’s gone from things like a Coke can prominently on display on a table in s1 (El crushing it with her mind) to literally having a straight up ad for Coca Cola in the middle of a tense scene. That’s the big offender that made me go wow you’re really doing this to yourselves huh, there are many others ofc (everything at the mall ofc, Slurpees being in hyperfocus for a bit, and a lengthy talk about Burger King. These smaller things one by one wasn’t the worst but all combined jesus it was too much, all added together and then bam the Coke commercial was wow... Congrats on the like 80 sponsorship deals and esp the new ST themed arcade hall by Coca Cola hope it was worth completely selling out for.

- Relatedly, the original fucking song. Holy christ talk about jumping the shark. That was the oddest, cringiest, weirdest shit I’ve seen in a long time. Gaten’s a great singer don’t get me wrong, but there’s a time and place for it and an original song stuffed into the middle of the tense climax of the season is not it Duffers. Just a blatant cash cow, hoping to bring in more money via the song.

- Robin. Sorry but holy cow what a Mary Sue. Hey here’s this super cool girl who’s cool™ and funny™ and super smart™ and NOT Nancy (like they seriously for real said in a scene, they actually for real had to pit Robin and Nancy against each other for no reason). And she conveniently has these specific skills needed for the plot (which she gets involved with for no real motivation other than having nothing better to do, lazy writing). Said skills were so over the top unrealistic it completely sucked me out of it. To start with, this random girl in small town Indiana in 1985 speaking French, Spanish and Italian um... does Hawkins High have the most amazing language department or what? Very un-american in that case... and okay then, her knowing those languages wouldn’t help jackshit with understanding Russian. Russian is a notoriously difficult language to learn and it is not related to the Romance languages at all, Robin knowing those languages and oh, having “a good ear” bc she’s in band (?!??! what?!) wouldn’t help her at all. Having the alphabets on the wall and listening to strange words in a foreign language she has no understanding of would never work. No way for her to understand what is she’s hearing, what letters are in the words just, nothing. It’s completely ridiculous. The good thing is she’s a lesbian, crushing Stobin that made me LOL. Btw, I don’t get what age they were writing her as? She’s still in school but later says she and Steve was in the same class, and she knows who Nancy is but Nancy, who is still in school, doesn’t know her even though presumably they’d be in the same year at little Hawkins High? Was it just sloppy writing or what?

- Too. Much. Plotting. What happened to “this season is about the characters” um there was just so much plot stuff and action sequences and barely any character driven moments at all. Those intimate moments that made s1 amazing. Generally regarding plots felt the Russian plot was messy and not well-written also what happened to the US government as the big bad? Unless they’re setting up a big Cold War thing for s4. And felt the zombie thing was wasted, could’ve been used differently like I’d have thought it’d be used like the MF spreading it’s influence over vaster areas and being harder to keep track of etc.

- Too little Will. Will’s whole thing with feeling left out etc was just dropped halfway through it felt very undercooked. His arc was just dropped wtf.

- NO BYERS FAMILY INTERACTIONS WTF. The sequence in the first episode when Jancy has overslept and Joyce wipes the lipstick off Jonathan was cute (but could’ve been even cuter I’d have preferred a short fluffy Jancy moment here just as they wake up before they realize they overslept, bc we didn’t get much pure fluff, and then it’d been awesome if Joyce would’ve just called Nancy into the house to mess with them). But like... that’s kind of it. For the Byers family. Talking to each other in the whole season. When they partnered Jancy with the kids many thought awesome we’ll get Byers bros talking and teaming up (and Nancy and Mike) but there was just nothing. Not even a family hug after the battle at the mall, just Joyce hugging Will, with all this tightknit little family has been through you telling me Jonathan wouldn’t join in?

- No Will and El bonding wtf? SUCH a wasted opportunity. They’ve built this unique awesome connection over s1 and s2 and now in s3 would finally be able to bond normally for real and... nothing.

- Turning Hopper back into an even bigger jerk than he was at the start of the show, neglecting all his character development. What was the point of the whole El and Hopper thing they devoted so much time to in s2 if Hopper’s back at it with the yelling and all now? And jeez his constant whining to Joyce about every man she interacts with holy christ that got annoying. Generally Hopper was such an annoying asshole this season I was so tired of him by the time he “died”.

- TOO MANY CHARACTERS. Jeez, I know I’m on about it all the time but jesus christ there is way way too many characters in this for 8 episodes which hurts the narrative and screentime for interesting characters is just... yeah.

- Speaking of screentime, did we really need that many identical generic fight scenes between Hopper and the Russian guy? Jesus Christ it’s so boring watching fight scenes like that, so repetitive (compare to the hospital fight scene which was dynamic and awesome). Also regarding screentime did we really need to devote so incredibly much of it to Steve and Robin being comedic relief while drugged? Yeah yeah mix light and dark and all that but jesus christ at that point in the narrative shit has hit the fan lean into the dark.

- Totally expected of course but still, the furthering of Steve Memeington. My god they actually had him literally call himself daddy... christ.

- The Billy and Karen/all the other middle age women remains gross and bad in a billion ways. Also completely pointless for the plot, they could’ve come up with any other way to get Billy to the factory. And what did it give Karen in development? Just the realization that yeah I’m tired of my husband but I’m not leaving my family and I’ll stick with him just ‘cause? Okay but did we need her almost sleeping with a kid a year older than her daughter for that? Icky. Also the editing of the scene where Billy hits her was so weird. Also that was weird as fuck.

- The ending. Okay christ my main gripe with this is because of a point above: No Byers family interaction at all! Joyce and Hopper talk briefly about her thinking about moving once or twice but she never talks about it with her kids... obviously she did in the timegap but we need to see that to build to the thing. Having no Byers interactions the whole season and then just oop we’re moving is so weird. I’m also not sure if Joyce’s motivation for moving (her bad memories of Hawkins) would be enough. For sure an argument for it, but an argument against is the one Hopper presents to her (and though he’s not around still there’s still a support system around them there, especially for her kids which she loves above all). Speaking of her loving her kids above all, she knows they love their friends/girlfriend/boyfriend to bits, have walked through fire with them and are each others support system as mentioned, would Joyce really just uproot them from that? There’s also some purely practical things that stuck out to me immediately: the timeskip for the epilogue makes it so they move when the schoolyear is already well under way and Jonathan has started senior year, feel bad for Jonathan there in a number of ways. Also, how the hell did Joyce manage to sell her house and what did it fetch? Her rundown house on the outskirts of a now infamous town with an incredibly bad rep? Even if the buyer bought it for the land the land doesn’t look special, just find it hard to believe she could get much for it. And where did they move? Where did she find a place? And work? Did she have something lined up or? I guess we’ll see.

- Oh and speaking of work, that was another thing that was just dropped, the mall killing downtown and the protests just fell out of the story. But, with what happened to the mall wouldn’t business come back to downtown (possibly reason for Joyce to want to stay if Melvald’s going out of business was another reason to move).

- Sorry but Mileven took way too much space.

- Again, no Jonathan and Will actual brothers bonding. But a whole lot of Steve and Dustin meme fanservice wank.

- Erica is just the sassy black girl trope non stop the whole season and nothing else and it’s so grating and... I was gonna say disappointing but I had no faith in the Duffers regarding this. Just because a bit character becomes a meme doesn’t mean they need to become a main. *cough* Steve *cough cough* Sorry.

- Last but not least, the woobiefication of Billy. Uggggghhhh. Disgusting. And having Max cry over him WTF?!?!?!?!?! staaaaaaahp.

#stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things 3 thoughts #stranger things 3 spoilers

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thorne93 · 6 years ago

Text

Stan Lee University (Part 8)

Prompt: What would the Avengers be like in college, more importantly, what would they be like if Y/N existed around them?

Word Count: 3588

Warnings: drama, language, betrayal

Notes: This is based on a HC from @carryonmyswansong. They helped brainstorm and write part of this series. In this AU, no one will have powers, everyone is a normal human. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday - the day of the party that you’d invited Stephen to.

You weren’t sure if he was really going to come alone. You honestly hoped he didn’t come at all. You didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness or his assholeishness. You weren’t sure why it got under your skin.

Maybe it was because he’d given you every reason to think he was into you. He touched you often in lab. His fingers grazing yours to grab a notebook, to pick up a tool. He pretended to graze your ass once and said it was an accident. He showed up to your pre-med club and joked with you. He always smiled when he saw you.

So why be a dick when you invite him out? How did that even add up?

Instead of dwelling on him, you pulled on some black slacks and a flashy top. Loki was taking you and that’s all that mattered. No Stephen, no Bucky, no homework. Just a night with friends and a new date.

You didn’t get too fancy with your makeup and hair because this was a college party and chances were your hair wasn’t going to stay intact.

At 6:15, a knock came at your door. You figured it was Loki and found yourself thrilled when you saw him on the other side of the threshold.

“Ready to turn heads?” he asked with a smug grin.

“Let’s do it,” you cheered before grabbing your bag and following him out the door.

The party was at Tony’s house, a huge place on the very rich side of town. You took your car, as you already knew the way to the place.

“So you good friends with this Stark guy?” Loki asked halfway to his mansion.

“Yeah, we’ve known each other pretty much all our lives. Most of us have. Small town and all that.”

“Must get annoying, everyone already knowing everything about you.”

You shook your head, frowning. What an odd thing to say.

“No, not really. I feel like I have a huge family. Which is why what Wanda did hurt so bad. These dudes are my extended family. Gosh, Clint’s spent almost every Christmas with my family. I’ve had Easter egg hunts at Tony’s for years. So no. I think it’s nice.”

“Yeah but don’t you ever like keeping some mystery?”

“I do have mystery. There are things I’ve shared with Bucky that only we know. There are little moments with Clint that we know. There are still some places and things I love that no one knows. I’m not an open book, you know.”

He peered at you. “Hmm, I’d like to know some of those things, one day.”

You lightly laughed. “Maybe… One day.”

A moment later, you pulled into the driveway, lots of other cars already there.

“Ready for this?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him playfully.

“I was born ready, darling.”

The two of you jumped out and you walked up the sidewalk, not bothering to knock. When the door opened, it exposed you to about fifty people. You knew quite a few of them, but some were new faces.

The two of you made your way through the party to the kitchen, where Tony and Bruce stood.

“Hey guys!” you greeted, waving with a grin on your face. “I brought Loki.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand to the two.

“Likewise, Shakespeare,” Tony teased. “I’ve got the open bar, as usual, chips, and pizza is on the way.”

“Went all out,” you joked.

“Hey, if you don’t like it, you can leave,” Tony said with a huge grin before he looked over your shoulder. “Hey! Richie!”

With that, he was off and Bruce seemed to walk away to meet up with Peter.

Awkwardly, you turned to Loki and said, “Well, would you like a drink or…?”

“Aren’t I supposed to offer you one?” he asked with a side smile.

You bobbed your head. “Technically, but I know this place better than you. How about a Jack and Coke?” you asked, tilting a bottle of whiskey back, looking at the island in the kitchen.

“That’s a little heavy,” he mused, taking in the inventory.

“Oh, lightweight, huh?” you teased.

“Hardly. I can drink Thor under the table.”

“Hey, speaking of, is your brother here?”

“Probably,” he scoffed, seeming uninterested in talking about his sibling.

“Okay so no Jack… What about a hurricane? Dirty martini? Old fashioned? Cosmo?”

“Did you take a bartending course or what’s with the drink list?”

A laugh escaped you as you shook your head. “No, not quite. Tony just loves to drink and pretends that mixology is a science.”

Loki touched a few of the bottles and noted, “Apparently. Um, make me something blue.”

“That’s vague as hell, but sure. A Jack Frost, one of my favorites.”

You set to work making the drink, grabbing the blender from its place in the cabinet. Tony wasn’t one for blended drinks, but in the summer during his pool parties, you often manned the slushy duty.

The drinks were done and you poured them in solo cups. You would’ve preferred to do it properly in a nice glass with shredded coconut on the rim, but at this party, it was best to use plastic.

“Want to go out on the patio?” you offered.

“Sure,” Loki said with a smile.

The two of you walked out where Scott, Clint, and T’Challa were sitting.

“Hey guys,” you greeted with a bright smile, sitting across from them. Loki sat next to you on the bench swing, putting his arm behind you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Scott said happily. “Heard about the internship. That sucks. Sorry about that.”

You waved it off. “Hey, it’s fine. There’s others out there.”

“Wanda’s here, you know,” T’Challa noted.

“That’s fine,” you assured. “It’s water under the bridge.”

“So you’re not still pissed?” Clint wondered, frowning.

“Oh, I’m furious but I’m not about to stay away from all my friends for her, and I don’t expect her to do the same. Karma will get her back. I just need to live my life.”

“Very mature of you, kid,” Scott slightly joked with a wink before tipping his beer bottle back.

“Thanks, old man,” you shot back, hiding a smile.

You all began to chat, they directed a lot of questions at Loki, as he was the new kid in the group and everyone was highly interested in him and his brother. Last night, only Scott was at the party.

Eventually, T’Challa saw a guy he knew from his Congress class and Scott went in for a refill and never came back. Natasha found Clint and drug him off to God knew where. Then Thor discovered Loki was at the party and those two bantered for a moment in front of you, making you giggle.

Wanda made her way out to the patio and the two of you exchanged a glance that didn’t go unnoticed by the small circles you were in, but no words were said before she went back to talking to her brother and a guy you’d never seen before.

By now, it was about 2 am, and more than half the attendees had gone home or were asleep.

“Hey, hey, hey guys,” Tony said, poking his head out onto his patio, the pool light reflecting off his face. He was totally shitfaced as Pepper hung on him, laughing at something unbeknownst to you. “We’re gonna play spin the bottle, come on.”

Loki smile at you. ��Shall we?”

Immediately, you reclused. “Uh, no. I’m good.”

“What? It’s harmless. Come on,” he coaxed.

“Nah, it’s not really my thing.”

He nodded. “Well, suit yourself then.” With that, he stood and went inside, where you saw everyone sitting in a huge circle in Tony’s living room. You shook your head and sighed.

“Unbelievable…” you scoffed. You walked over to the old swingset Tony kept in his yard and sat down, just swaying.

You couldn’t believe that after the wonderful time you had last night, and the good time you were having tonight, that he just ditched you like that.

“This seat taken?” Stephen’s voice suddenly said and your head snapped up.

“You’re here?” you asked, surprised.

“Nope, I’m an apparition,” he quipped as he walked over and sat beside you in the swings.

“Oh, that’s good then. I’m glad I don’t have to actually converse with the jackass who thinks he knows the difference between velocity and acceleration.” You smiled to yourself, stealing a glance at him.

He grinned as he gestured to the air. “Precisely. You can just, talk to the air about how much you hate me.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” you remarked with a grin.

His voice got more serious as he swung over, bumping your seat. “Hey, why are you out here all alone? Shouldn’t you be inside, sucking face with the Drama King?”

You peered at him out of the side of your eyes. “How’d you know I came with Loki?”

“Saw you two walk in.”

“You’ve been here all night?” you wondered.

“Mhm. And you’ve avoided my question. Why are you the only one out here?” he pressed, thrusting his head towards the house where you could still see everyone laughing and kissing.

“Just not my scene. What about you? What’s a strapping young doctor-to-be all alone on a Friday night doing out here, hanging out with the idiot that only looks up definitions?”

He hung his head, grinning. “Well first off, I’m not alone. I’m at a famous Tony Stark party with the popular Y/N. Secondly, even if you do just look up the definitions, you’ve got a better handle on the science than most of the other so called ‘future doctors’.”

“Careful, Stephen, that almost sounded like a compliment,” you teased. “So I’m not sucking face because it’s not my thing, but what about you?”

Stephen looked forward, watching the lot of them laugh, kiss, and get even more drunk than they already were. “Call me old fashioned, but when I kiss someone, I don’t want it to be a bottle deciding who, when, or where.That goes for empty ones and one’s I’ve finished off.”

At his words, you peered at him. Dammit, why did he have to remind you why you liked him? Sure, at first, it was a physical thing. Then he was into the same academics as you. But he was always so arrogant, with reason to be, and always making all these clever witty little remarks that stuck with you.

And now, now your date was in there kissing anyone the bottle landed on, and the guy you actually liked was out here with you.

“So how’s SLU treating you?” you wondered.

“I like it just fine, other than Stewart.”

“Stewart is literally the only bad thing about SLU,” you promised. “I’m glad to hear you like it though. I was worried I might’ve scared you into going back to your old school.”

He let out a soft laugh. “I don’t scare that easy.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“So graduating high school early, huh? How’d that come about?”

You shrugged. “I was doing really well in my classes, so my teachers pushed me to do some extra work. I eventually got a lot of work done during summer and stuff and graduated early with Tony and the gang.”

“Do you miss high school?”

You laughed. “Uh, no, not really. I mean I got my prom and everything. I was focused on school. Besides, I have more than enough fun on campus.”

“Not a lot of people would be willing to give up their youth like that, jump right into college, then a career.”

“Not a lot of people are like me,” you noted softly.

“That’s true,” he agreed in a whisper. “If I’m honest, I just thought you were pushed through.”

“What? You mean like rich parents or something?” you wondered.

He bobbed his head side to side, hesitant to agree.

“Yeah, you aren’t the only one. Well, my friends know I got here based on my academics, but…”

“But?” he urged.

“But they think my parents paid my way. They don’t. I actually got a few scholarships. My parents help with meals, because they want me to focus on school but, that’s it. Clint knows they don’t, but the rest of them don’t seem to believe me when I tell them I have financial aid. I mean, my parents aren’t rich by any means, just above comfortable, you know?”

He nodded, listening.

“They think the same thing about you, you know,” you mentioned. “They think you’re a spoiled rich kid, floating by on your parents money.”

“That what you think?”

“Why does it matter what I think?”

“It matters to me,” he said firmly.

You stared into his grey eyes for a moment, appreciating their haunting color. “No, no I don’t think you’re some spoiled rich kid. Do I think you’re a dick? Yes, but that has nothing to do with your tuition.”

At this, the two of you laughed before you suddenly noticed Loki walking across the patio and pool area towards you two.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” Loki asked.

“I told you I wasn’t into that,” you informed, gesturing lazily to the house.

“I didn’t know you were such a prude,” he remarked with a scoff.

You glared at him. “I’m not a prude because I don’t want to mouth fuck all of my friends,” you snapped, jumping from the swing.

“Oh, well excuse me for trying to liven up the party.”

“Liven up and be a total manwhore are two different things,” you said angrily, shaking your head. You pegged Loki all wrong. You thought he was a good guy, maybe a little mischievous but he was so sweet and kind last night. And up until the whole spin the bottle, he still seemed great. He was funny, witty, charming.

But then he had to go and swap spit with most of the people you’d grown up with. What kind of guy does that? He was your date to this party.

“At least I’m not skulking about like some moping child,” he retorted. “You could’ve joined the fun.”

“It’s not fun to me, don’t you get that?” You turned back to Stephen. “It was nice to see you, Stephen. I’m gonna go. Getting late...”

Stephen nodded meekly and gave you a tiny wave with a side smile, trying to ignore how awkward this was to be caught between the argument.

You looked at Loki. “Find your own way back to campus.”

“Oh is that how it’s gonna be?” he slurred. “Fine! I’ll have any one of these lovely ladies bring me back. You could’ve had me, Y/N, you could’ve had me tonight!” he shouted after you. You walked down the lawn, thankful that the party goers seemed oblivious to the ordeal except Clint. He saw you walking away and he put his beer down to run toward you.

“Hey, hey, you okay?” he asked, stopping you and putting his hands on your shoulders.

“Yeah, just… Loki being an ass. I asked the jerk here and he went in there without me and made out with everyone.” You shrugged, shaking your head slightly. “It’s fine, Clint. I’m fine. He’s just an asshole. I’ve seen ‘em before. I’m gonna go back to campus and prevent a hangover. You need a ride back or are you good?”

“I’m good. Are you?”

You nodded “I stopped drinking hours ago. I only had two drinks anyway.”

He peered at you with worry on his face. “Alright, if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

With that, he let you go and said he’d see you later. You got to your car and sat there a second before starting it. With your head resting on the window, a knock came to the passenger side window. If it was Loki, you were going to tell him to eat shit.

However, when you glanced over, ready to tear him a new one, it was Stephen.

Confused, you rolled the window down.

“Hate to bother you in the middle of a meltdown, but could you give me a ride?”

“How did you get here?” you wondered. You really needed to be alone and hoped his ride here could just redo the favor. Any other night, you would probably jump at the chance to be in the same room as the handsome jerk, but tonight you’d had your fill of assholes.

“By portal,” he joked with a ‘give me a break’ look. “I came with Sam, but he’s passed out in the living room.”

“That… sounds about right,” you agreed. “Alright, yeah, come on.”

He climbed in.

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

You took off, and drove slowly through the neighborhood.

“So date didn’t go as planned, huh?”

You glanced sideways at Stephen, wondering if he was trying to be a dick on purpose. If so, he and Loki were both out of the running for any sort of romantic relationship. You didn’t need or want games or drama.

“No, it didn’t. I don’t know I just… He was so cool last night.”

“Last night?” he wondered.

“Yeah we went to Scott’s party last night and he was perfectly fine. Now tonight he was… I don’t know. I don’t know what that was.”

“Think you’ll see him again?”

You scoffed. “No, most likely not.”

Quietness filled the car for a second.

“You know what bothers me the most?”

“That his IQ isn’t anywhere near yours?” he joked with a serious face before a small smile slipped in there.

You smiled despite yourself. “No, not that. It’s that he seemed really cool, just like a really good guy to be around, at least like a friend. You know? Entertaining, charming, well-read. Now, he’s just another douche at a party. So I’m sad that what could have been a good friendship was ruined by one night.”

“It doesn’t have to be ruined. Maybe he’s just shitty boyfriend material,” he offered.

“I don’t know. If you treat your date like that, are you really going to be any better as a friend?”

He bobbed his head side to side in contemplation.

“I don’t know. Do you think I’m a prude or that I overreacted?”

He took a deep breath. “Seeing as I wasn’t participating in the game, I can’t call you a prude. Overreacted… maybe a little bit, but to be fair, I wouldn’t be thrilled if the chick I brought to a party was doing that either. However, how many times have you two gone out?”

“This was date number two. We’ve had lunch and stuff on campus and study sessions but…”

“Well in one way, you could say you two aren’t serious yet and no one’s put a label on anything and he didn’t do anything wrong.”

“And the other way to look at it?”

“That he’s a sleazeball,” he remarked with a smile and laugh.

This made you chuckle as well.

“Glad to see you can still joke around. There may be hope for your sense of humor afterall.”

“And there may be hope for your physics grade afterall,” you shot back with a coy grin.

“Oh, okay, taking shots too now, are we?” he commented with a pleased smile. “I can appreciate that.”

A minute later, you were back on campus. “Where is your dorm?” you asked, ready to turn wherever he needed.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“What?” you asked, appalled. You sincerely hoped he didn’t think you two were suddenly going to hook up, did he?

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Not like that. I’m not the type of guy to take advantage of a girl who had an asshole encounter. I just want to make sure you get to your dorm safe, and I’ll walk to mine from there. That’s all.”

“Oh,” you said, a little embarrassed. Your cheeks started to heat up.

He turned to you a little more pointedly. “Would it really be that abhorrent if I did offer it though?” he asked, offense evident in his voice.

“Tonight? Yes.”

“Ah, but not all the time.”

At this, you laughed. “No, not all the time.”

Normally, you’d never been this candid about your feelings about a guy. You’d hide them for fear of rejection or worried he’d make fun of you. Especially with Stephen. So far he’d just given you crap. But in a way, you trusted him. Besides, he already knew you liked him, you’d asked him out on a date. That was easy enough to deduce, so the rest was just details.

You parked just outside your dorm and the two of you got out. He walked you up to the lobby door.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah. It was… I’m glad you were there to have someone to talk to.”

He shrugged, looking away. “I thought you might not wanna be alone. That’s all.”

“I really didn’t, so thanks for that.”

“Sure thing. See you Monday in class?”

“Yeah,” you said with a head nod and smile.

“Be sure to look up all the big words in the lab manual. I don’t want you getting scared,” he said as he walked away.

“I’ll only be scared if you start to understand the material, jackass.”

With that, he waved, not looking back.

You couldn’t help but smile before going into your dorm, Loki’s antics long forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tag List

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#stan lee university #loki x reader #loki fic #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange #stephen strange fic #loki #bucky #bucky barnes

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sunriserose1023 · 6 years ago

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Broken Promises (1)

PAIRING: Tony Stark x Reader SQUARE FILLED: Cheating WARNINGS: THIS IS AN AU, ANGST, infidelity, did I mention angst? WORD COUNT: 3932 AUTHOR’S NOTE: Here is the first installment in my latest Marvel Angst Bingo series and this one is a angst-filled doozy. And it’s my first time writing Tony x Reader!

“Daddy!”

Tony smiled as the little girl ran to him, dark, wavy hair loose and hanging halfway down her back. He knelt down, catching her as she threw herself into his arms. He closed his eyes as he embraced her, standing up and settling her on his hip.

“What’s up, Pheebs?”

She shrugged a shoulder, brushing some of her wild hair from her face.

“Mama thinks I broke the angel that sits by the TV.” “Did you?”

Her dark eyes widened.

“No!” “Phoebe Grace Stark, you get your little behind in here right now!”

Phoebe buried her head in Tony’s neck and he didn’t even try to hide his smile. He walked into the living room with her still in his arms, the smile widening when he saw his wife standing in the middle of the floor with her hands on her hips.

“Oh, no. Don’t even try to run to Daddy to play this off. You are in big trouble, little miss.” “I didn’t mean to!”

Phoebe’s voice was muffled from where she still had her face in Tony’s neck. He met his wife’s eyes and you shook your head.

“Do not.” “Is it really that important?” “If she would have listened to me and not thrown that damn ball in the house, it wouldn’t have happened.” “Does it really mean that much to you?” “That’s not the point, Tony.”

Tony turned his head slightly when Phoebe tugged on his ear. She leaned in close and whispered to him.

“Mama said a bad word.”

Tony fought to keep from laughing out loud. He coughed softly instead, whispering back.

“Not something we need to focus on right now. Let me negotiate for you.”

Phoebe nodded, laying her head back down. Tony met your eyes and you shook your head.

“She can’t keep running to you to fix it every time she messes up. She’s got to learn about the consequences of her actions.” “Isn’t that what dads are for? So she can run to me when she messes up?” “I don’t know, is that what Howard did for you?”

Tony winced at that.

“Good point.” “I refuse to raise an entitled brat, Stark. She’s not getting out of this one.”

Tony sighed, kneeling down again and moving his daughter from his shoulder to sit on his knee. She stared at him with her beautiful eyes and he tilted his head.

“Mama’s got a point.” “But I didn’t mean to!” “I know. But if you had listened to her and done what she said instead of what you wanted, we wouldn’t be here.”

Phoebe looked down and Tony moved a hand to push her little chin up, until she was looking at him.

“Kid, you’ve got to listen to your mom.”

Phoebe nodded, and Tony nodded in your direction.

“If you tell her you’re sorry, she might go easy on you.”

Phoebe sighed, and Tony leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She hopped off his knee and he sat back on his heel, covering his mouth with a hand and watching as Phoebe walked to you. He smiled, hiding it behind his hand when you knelt down, taking your daughter’s hands and talking softly. After a moment, Phoebe threw her arms around your neck and you hugged her tightly before she ran off. You shook your head, looking across the room.

“That was a good play.”

Tony shrugged.

“Happens every once in a while.”

You smiled, groaning as you stood to your feet. Tony did the same, walking across the room and taking both of your hands, pulling you close to him and kissing your lips. You shook your head as you looped your arms around his neck, then sighed.

“She’s so much like you.” “Lucky little thing.”

You snorted, laughing when Tony pinched your side. He leaned his head forward and you closed your eyes as his forehead came to rest on yours.

“That damn business trip is this weekend.” “Cancel it. Stay here with your girls.”

Tony smiled.

“I wish.”

He bent his head, lips finding yours in a drawn-out kiss. As he pulled you closer and started to nibble on your neck, you smiled, hand carding through his dark hair.

“Guess I’ll just have to make it one hell of a goodbye, huh?” “Ew, gross!”

Tony kept his arms around you as you turned around, to see both of your daughters with their hands covering their eyes. You smiled, shaking your head, and Tony spoke up.

“If you promise me you’ll always, always think kissing is gross, then I won’t kiss your mom again.” “Deal.”

You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing out loud, watching as the girls lowered their hands from their eyes. Tony nodded.

“I lied!”

He laughed, pulling you in for another kiss, and you laughed into it when you heard the high-pitched squeals of ‘no fair’ that echoed through the living room.

Tony groaned as he rolled to his back, smacking dry lips, trying to swallow on an even drier throat. He sat up and gingerly set his feet on the ground, putting his head in his hands. He whimpered at the pounding in his head, then stood up, eyes still closed as he slowly made his way to the bathroom.

“Ow, damn it. What the hell?”

He blinked open one eye, rubbing his head where he’d bumped it against the wall. He narrowed that eye as he studied the wall, wondering how in the hell someone had rearranged the room so quickly and misplaced the bathroom.

“If you’re looking for the bathroom, it’s over this way.”

Tony went still as a sleepy voice shattered the quiet.

A distinctly feminine voice.

He slowly turned around and looked at the bed just as a woman sat up, yawning widely before tugging the sheets to cover her naked body. Tony glanced down, realizing that he was just as naked. He shook his head, heart beginning to pound in his chest.

“Who—I’m sorry. Who are you?”

She made a face.

“Ouch. Guess I should expect it, though.”

She used one hand to keep the sheets covering her, holding the other out to Tony as she introduced herself. He shook her hand, shaking his head.

“What … I’m sorry. I don’t remem—remember what happened.” “Well, we did have a lot to drink. It’s not that surprising.”

Tony glanced around and found his boxers, grabbing them and pulling them on. He held a hand over his mouth, then met her eyes again.

“I don’t … I’m married.”

Her eyes widened.

“You’re not wearing a ring.”

Tony glanced at his left hand, at the pale strip of skin on his finger where his ring usually rested. He shook his head.

“I don’t know where it is. Christ. I need …” “Are you okay?”

Tony huffed out a laugh.

“Not in the least little bit.”

He gathered the rest of his clothes, pulling them on as the woman climbed out of bed and pulled on a robe. He shook his head, putting his face in his hands for a moment before standing up.

“Where are we?”

She told him, which—thankfully—was the same hotel where he had set up his reservation. He found his wallet in the pocket of his slacks and pulled it out, fishing the key card out of one of the slots, going still when he saw the picture, of his wife and his daughters. He closed his eyes, ignoring the woman’s calls as he left the room and found the elevator. In his room, he tore his clothes off, dropping them in one of the trash cans in the room. He stumbled to the bathroom, hitting his knees by the toilet and throwing up until there was nothing left.

Tony rubbed his hands over his head, then stared at the ground. He missed the entire day of the convention he’d agreed to come to for the company, but that was honestly the furthest thing from his mind. He swallowed, reaching for his phone and picking it up, closing his eyes as he dialed a number.

“Hello?” “Steve, it’s—”

Tony had to clear his throat.

“It’s me. Are you busy?” “Not too much right now. What’s up? How’s the convention?” “I don’t know.” “You don’t know? Aren’t you there? I talked with Y/N earlier and she said you were gone.” “Steve, I did something.”

The other end of the phone was quiet, and Tony went on.

“I … fuck.” “Tony, what did you do?”

He closed his eyes.

“I don’t remember last night.” “Shit.” “I don’t remember anything after getting to my room in this hotel. The next thing I remember is wake … waking up.” “Waking up where?”

Tony hung his head and Steve groaned.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Tony?” “I didn’t do it on purpose!”

Tony hissed out the words, then stood to his feet.

“I don’t know how I got there or who she was. I don’t even remember her name.” “Do you have any idea the repercussions this could have?” “Yeah, I’ve got some semblance of an idea.”

Steve sighed.

“What are you going to do?” “I’m still trying to come to grips with it.” “You know you’ve got to tell her.”

Tony nodded.

“I … fuck, Steve. I swore I’d never do this. How … how could I have done this?”

Tony’s voice broke on that, and he covered his mouth with a hand as he stared at the floor, tears filling in his eyes. Steve sighed.

“I don’t … I don’t know what to tell you. This is totally out of character for you. Do you think you were drugged or something?”

Tony shook his head.

“I don’t know.” “It’s probably out of your system by now anyway.”

Tony ran a hand over his eyes, swiping away the tears from his cheeks.

“Come home. Come home now and tell Y/N and … god. Pray she’ll forgive you.”

Tony nodded, tears welling up in his eyes again.

“I’m going to get started on making sure this stays under wraps.” “I’m sorry.”

Steve sighed.

“Me too. Have a safe flight.”

Tony hung up the phone and fell backwards onto the bed.

You narrowed your eyes when you heard the doorbell ring. You walked to the door, opening it and smiling when you saw your half-sister on the doorstep.

“Jane!”

She smiled widely as the two of you hugged, walking inside as you shut the door behind you. Jane pushed a hand through her hair and gave you a smile.

“Are they ready?” “Who?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“The girls.” “Where are they going?”

Jane’s smile widened.

“Oh, I see.” “Well, I don’t. Little help?”

Jane chuckled.

“Tony called, asked me if I’d watch the girls for tonight.” “Tony’s on a business trip.”

Jane shrugged.

“Hope I didn’t ruin a surprise.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled.

“Give me five minutes and the little monsters will be ready for you.”

Jane followed you up the stairs, laughing at the chorus of high-pitched “Auntie Jane!” when the girls saw her. She knelt and accepted the hugs her nieces bestowed upon her, helping Phoebe pick out which stuffed animals to bring on the overnight trip while simultaneously answering Allie’s questions about Uncle Thor. No, he wasn’t on a business trip like Daddy. Yes, he would be home tonight. Yes, it was very possible that he would wrestle with them, if they promised not to gang up on him.

You smiled as you packed their bags, accepting the hugs and kisses from your excited little girls, laughing at Phoebe dancing around the room. Allie carried her bag outside and you carried Phoebe’s, loading them into Jane’s car. You transferred Phoebe’s carseat from your car to Jane’s, kissing your sister on the cheek before she drove away.

You were waiting in the kitchen when you heard the door open. You smiled as you walked towards the living room, leaning against the wall.

“Hey, stranger.”

Tony turned to look at you, and the smile slid from your face at the look in his eyes. You straightened, stepping towards him, stopping when he held up a hand.

“Tony, what … what’s the matter?”

He bowed his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he gave a shaky breath, lifting a hand to rub at his chest. After a moment, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Please say something.”

You sat on the edge of the couch, staring at your hands. Tony was across from you in a chair, breathing so loudly you could hear it across the room. You shook your head, and he sighed.

“Honey—” “Don’t.”

He nodded, looking back down at the floor. You shook your head again, lifting it and giving a shaky breath.

“How could you do this?” “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I didn’t—” “What, you didn’t mean to? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Tony huffed out a breath, getting to his feet.

“I don’t remember it. Anything about that night.” “Last night, you mean.”

He closed his eyes and nodded.

“I … never would have—” “Yeah, I used to think that, too.”

You got to your feet, pushing your hands through your hair and walking to the window. You crossed your arms over your chest and took in a breath, letting it out slowly.

“Do you think you were drugged?”

Tony didn’t answer, so you turned to look at him. He gave a minute lift of his shoulders, shaking his head. You swallowed, tightening your arms.

“Well, if you were, it’s gone out of your system by now.”

Tony nodded, and you closed your eyes.

“What do you think happened?”

Tony sighed, running a hand down his face.

“I don’t know. I went to the restaurant in the hotel for dinner. Met a colleague there. We had a couple of drinks and … the next thing I remember is waking up in a room that wasn’t mine.” “How many is a ‘couple of drinks?’”

Tony lifted his head and met your eyes.

“You know I don’t do that anymore.”

You let out a hard laugh.

“I used to know everything about you. Now I … I don’t even know who you are.”

He winced, looking back down at his hands. You moved one of your hands to cover your mouth.

“I’m sorry.” “Don’t. Don’t apologize. God.”

You shook your head, giving another rough laugh.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick.” “I was.” “I really don’t want to hear anything from you right now.” “Y/N—” “I literally do not want to hear the sound of your voice at this moment. So please, Tony, for once in your life, shut the fuck up.”

His dark eyes went wide, but he nodded, lowering his head. You looked up to the ceiling, blinking as your mind joined your stomach and began to churn.

“Oh, god. What …”

You shook your head.

“What happens when she shows up pregnant? Because God knows she will. Because that’s my luck, and because that’s what people do these days. And what … what are we supposed to tell the girls?”

You blindly waved a hand, until you touched one of the chairs. You moved to stand behind it, gripping it tightly.

“What are we supposed to tell them when this inevitably gets leaked to the press and people start talking? This could bring down the company, Tony.” “What, and ruin the nice little privileged life you have here?”

Your eyes flashed as you whirled to face him. He gave a laugh as he stood up, walking towards you.

“You scared this will ‘ruin’ us? That we’ll run out of money?” “You asshole. I could give less than a shit about the money. I was talking about your daughters and the legacy they’ll have to live with, that their bastard father couldn’t keep it in his pants!”

Tony’s face fell as you gave his chest a hard push. He closed his eyes as you shook your head, tears filling your eyes as you looked back to the window, walking to grip the back of the chair again.

“How could you do this? The one …”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. Tony stood across the room from you, tears threatening his eyes. He shook his head.

“I never …”

You swallowed, lifting your head to look out the window.

“Everyone tried to warn me. Everyone. Even your own father.”

Tony shut his eyes at that, and you shook your head.

“And I knew it. I knew exactly what they meant. But I … I told them …”

You shook your head again, turning to face him. He tilted his head when he saw your face, the tears streaking down your cheeks.

“I told them you had changed. That you weren’t the man they all knew anymore. That you—”

You swallowed again.

“That you’d never hurt me.” “Please.”

He rushed forward and you stepped back, shaking your head and moving out of his reach.

“Please, don’t throw all of this away.”

You turned back to him, shock on your face.

“I’m not! You’re the one who did!” “I know I can’t take it back, but—” “What can you do to make it up to me?”

Tony just stared at you and you laughed, not an ounce of mirth in the sound.

“This isn’t some toy of mine that you’ve broken, Tony. This was our family. What we’ve spent ten years building. The children that we tried so hard to have. Do you remember that?”

He slowly nodded, and you choked back a sob.

“And you threw it all away in one night.” “I didn’t throw it away!” “Yes, you did!”

You shook your head, holding your hand up as he started to step towards you.

“I can’t even look at you right now.” “Look, we don’t even know what happened for sure.”

You looked at him.

“If you’re telling me about it, then we know what happened. It doesn’t matter that you can’t remember. If you feel guilty, there’s a reason for it.” “I never set out looking for this.” “Well, that makes me feel better.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the window. Tony walked to you and laid his hand on your shoulder, which you violently shrugged off. He took a step back and you shook your head, pushing your hands through your hair again.

“All I can imagine is you touching her, and I can’t—”

You held a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t touch me.” “I’m sorry.”

Tony gave a shaky breath.

“I’m just really so sorry.”

You closed your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest again, in a failing attempt to protect your battered heart.

“Who was she?”

Tony closed his eyes and you turned to face him.

“Tony, who was she?”

He turned his head, opening his eyes to meet yours. You lifted an eyebrow, waiting for his answer and he sighed before shaking his head.

“I don’t … I don’t know.” “What’s her name?”

Tony closed his eyes again and you blinked, mouth dropping open.

“You don’t even know her name?” “I told you I don’t remember anything from last night!”

Tony shoved a hand through his hair, covering his mouth with that hand. He shook his head, then turned back to you, both of your voices growing louder.

“I would take it all back if I could, but I can’t.” “You don’t even know what it is you’re apologizing for!”

Tony shook his head again.

“What do you want from me?” “I want you to leave.”

He blinked, eyes wide.

“What?” “You cheated on me, Tony.” “We don’t know that—” “Yes, we do!”

You shook your head, looking towards the door.

“Just … looking at you makes me feel sick. I—I can’t deal with this right now.” “No, we have to deal with it.”

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back. Tony stepped closer to you, and you took a step back.

“Don’t give up on us.”

Your eyes flashed open.

“What ‘us?’ You ended ‘us’ last night.” “Don’t say that. Don’t you say that.” “You have no right to tell me not to do anything!”

He reached out for you and you smacked his hands away. He was quicker the next time, grabbing hold of your arms and forcing you to look at him.

“Please. I am begging you, don’t give up on me.” “Tony—” “I can’t do this without you. You and my girls … you’re everything to me.” “Tony—” “Y/N, please.” “You’re hurting me.”

At the sound of your soft sentence, the two of you looked to where his hands were gripping your arms tightly. Tony let go of you and you gave a shuddering exhale. His eyes were wide and horrified as he looked at the red marks his hands had left on your arms. He shook his head, crouching down and covering his mouth with a hand. You gave another shaky sigh, tears filling your eyes and a sob escaping your lips when Tony crawled to you, wrapping his arms around your legs. You closed your eyes, letting your hand rest on his raven hair, feeling his tears fall on your bare feet.

After a long, quiet time of the two of you just being still and crying, you spoke.

“I just … I can’t think right now. I’m mad and I’m hurt and I can’t …”

You shook your head.

“I need you to give me some space.” “Y/N—” “Please, Tony. Please don’t make me ruin this.”

He let go of you and sank back on his heels. After a moment, he stood to his feet, turning and walking out of the room. You closed your eyes, stumbling to a chair and sinking into it, burying your face in your hands.

Tony walked back into the room half an hour later. You walked in from the kitchen, heart stuttering in your chest when you saw the bags in his hand.

“I, uh … I’ll stay at the office, or … one of the hotels.”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest again, staring at the floor. Tony cleared his throat.

“If you … if you need anything, I—” “Steve or Bucky will come.”

Tony went still, then slowly nodded. He cleared his throat again and you moved a hand to your eyes, tears threatening again. Tony gave a shaky sigh, and you listened to his footsteps walk towards the door.

“Wait.”

He stopped, dropping the bag, catching you as you rushed to him and wrapping his arms around you. You sobbed into his shoulder as he held you, his tears wetting your shirt. You pushed him away and he took hold of your face, both of you crying as you stared at each other.

“I love you, Y/N. Do you hear me? You. I love you.” “Go.”

His hand fell from your face and you shook your head, tears streaming from your eyes.

“Just go.”

Tony swallowed, picking the bag back up. He leaned in and pressed his lips to your forehead, and you closed your eyes, not opening them when you heard the door shut. Instead, you collapsed, slamming your hands onto the hardwood floor, screaming as you cried.

TAGS: @marvelangstbingo, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan, @captain-rogers-beard, @nuvoleincielo, @fanfictionfindings, @rhapsody-in-flannel

#marvel angst bingo #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #tony stark x reader #tony stark au #MCU #mcu fanfiction #female reader #tony stark #steve rogers #jane foster #original characters #original child character

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wheelthefridge · 5 years ago

Text

in honor of last night having been my last ever shift dishwashing at the same restaurant i’ve been at for the past four years here’s an absurdly long list of random chaotic moments that literally no one asked for that i’ve been compiling since day one:

bj, with a half full gallon of orange juice: this expired two months ago. *pours down drain* that was a long time ago

sam: YOU! I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU!! *carries on normally with no explanation* bj: smack that! that too! smack those vegetables! punch that burger in the nose! chop that bun! bob: no, flick the bun. you have to flick it.

*bad and boujee playing* bj: walks into kitchen, singing bj: you better know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away, know when to run bj: walks out of kitchen, still singing

me: hey can you put the wet floor sign out for me dylan: sure dylan: *slips while putting the sign out* me:

sam: get this- i haven’t smoked pot in like three days and my brain is ready to roll! yeah!

joe: ha! oldest trick in the book i just started writing

dude @bar: ten percent of people are over 6'1" other dude: what about 6'2" dude 1: what? no. ten percent of people are OVER 6'1" - so that includes 6'2" dude 2: idk I know a lot of tall guys. taller than me dude 1: what? i’m saying- just- ten percent of everyone in the whole world- you know how many people there are in the world? 7 billion– dude 2: i thought it was six billion dude 1: no, 7 billion- ten percent of 7 billion—

joe, digging through the trash: i’m just gonna peruse through here,, aaaaannnd….. nope not here me: what’re u looking for Joe: …..a book

didi: is eating a pistachio katherine: is that sour cream

sam: some dirty whorebag wants two pickles

joe: sam she am. that’s right. dr seuss wrote a book about her

katherine: oh my goddd this song is always on i’m so tired of it joe: is it? i don’t think i’ve heard it before carolyn: eh it’s all just one long brazilian song to me

katherine: look at my straw i put it in the pencil sharpener

sam: i’m on crack cocaine. you heard it here

sam, aggressively putting silverware in the tray: just the way the cookie crumbles me: yeah? sam, fake crying: yes

adele: if you’re ready- sam: what if I’m not bob: too bad. she only cares if she’s ready

something: *breaks* sam: time for the mop. and by mop i mean… this thing *holds up dustpan*

mike: you should go on junior master chef…. and only make fries

sam, quietly as she speedwalks by me: panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic

sam, beginning of the night: my goal is to make at least forty bucks tonight. hopefully sixty sam, later that night: i’ve made five dollars

sam, pouring a drink into the trash right next to the sink: you know, im not sure why i poured that in the trash. i’ve had a very off day

katherine, after accidentally spraying salsa on herself: i just sprayed salsa all over myself bj: i feel like that too sometimes. i love salsa so much

sam: can you imagine if i did like hardcore drugs how messed up i would be- i’m messed up soberly

someone: what’re you supposed to feed twenty kids kerry: pizza bj: vodka

sam: will you let bob know there’s gonna be seven in the snug bj: seven in the snug? that’s my band name. we’re really good

edson: *spins cover on counter and stares at it for solid thirty seconds before putting his finger down to stop it* edson: good.

sam: what should i draw bj: you should draw casey, hanging from a cliff, with a pterodactyl flying towards them who is on fire, but, seems optimistic about it

bj: life is too short for low fat cheese. remember that.

sam, beginning of night, in a really good mood: guess what i’m drunk and high right now sam, later that night: i was just pouring a beer and i dropped it. like my hand just let go of it sam, end of night: i’m never doing this again

joe: you know who didn’t clock out yet?? i have two thumbs! joe: ……wait joe: you know who has two thumbs and hasn’t clocked out yet?? this guy!! me: there ya go buddy

bob: i’ve slept fifteen hours in the past four days me: that’s not good bob: yeah

edson: look edson: *holds out hand with top spinning in his palm* *giggles*

sam: i cannot wait for this day to be over me: it’s barely started sam: i took a shot before i got here. i have more in my car

bob: hi sam sam: hi bob didi: hi sam sam: fuck off

joe: her? oh yeah her name is sarah whitaker katherine: oh i think i know her joe: that’s funny because i just made that up. i’m willing to bet money that she’s nineteen tho me: why joe: bc i overheard her say that she’s nineteen

joe: i’m gonna send you a video but you can’t watch it now it’s needs full attention with headphones and the lights off

bj: if you lose your hand, don’t replace it with a fork. that would be a bad choice. i know it’s probably the cheapest option, right up there with stick, but just spend the money.

bj, on a different day: i think if you were to get your hands cut off, getting them replaced with plates would be a very bad idea. you can dig. and you can toss. but that’s about it. no playing the saxophone.

colby: *doesn’t show up to work* bj: maybe i should leave him a message of just me crying

katherine: i think an old man just asked me to live with him

sam: wait *pulls celery strings out of her mouth* that just came out of my throat

bob: i’m such a grump tonight. i’m in a good mood i’m just so grumpy. bob: maybe i’m not in a good mood…

bj, after sending christa downstairs to get liquor for the bar: i put a live cobra down there too so… if she comes back with it dead in her hands…. she’s a champ. and that’s that.

bj: i had a dog today did you have a dog? me: no bj: oh. well.

dylan, holding phone camera at joe: hey joe can you pull ur shirt down joe, pulling the collar of his shirt halfway down his chest: yeah like this? dylan, taking picture: yeah thanks

bj: HI-YAH carley: you’re a ninja!! bj: yes. don’t be alarmed. i only use my powers for good.

bj, with one bottle in each hand, pouring water in the sink, mimicking cow milking motions: it’s like a cow. mooooooeeeeeeuuuuuhhhhhhgggg aaaaaauuuuuueuejhshhsii. that’s what cows sound like right?

bj: we have a dog, and we’re getting chickens. i’m not really sure why were getting chickens. do i consider myself a farmer? not really.

bj: we should make a youtube channel of just me saying really random things to you and you not responding to me whatsoever me: mhmm

nancy: I’m sleeping

sam: *pours drink out on counter next to sink* sam: wHAT the FuCK was that!? why did i do that?? i’ve lost it! i’ve hit rock bottom!!

sam: *bends over* ughhhhhhhhhhhhh *straightens up* ok i’m fine

bj: yum! that’s how i rate the soup. two yums up!! *laughs for like a full minute*

sam: i got my motorcycle license over the weekend and now all everyone’s saying to me is “no don’t get a motorcycle they’re so dangerous” like shut the fuck up if i die i die it’s my choice

bj: i think if i were to be turned into some kind of commercial type of food, if i got turned into a nugget, i think i’d be indignant. i’ve lived my whole life and now i’m a nugget??? “oh i was a great roasted-“ i was a nugget. i was eaten with fries out of a box with a small soda.

bj: hello everybody. i have arrived. please remain calm. bob: *screams*

radio: the fastest lawn mower in the world goes up to 150 miles per hour! bob: …….why??

sam: i just meowed in scotty’s face and he was completely unfazed by it. like a full on Meow.

bob: lemme just touch these live wires with my wet hands bj: bob has gone offline

katherine: i totally forgot to put their order in for i don’t even know how long me: ……..i’m sure it’ll be fine katherine: i mean, nothing matters, right? right. nothing matters.

bj: hey did you guys hear that kate: yeah what was that bj: oh i was just yelling……….. about the soup kate: me: katherine: bj: i’ll try to keep it down next time

bob: you sleep a lot when you’re old. it’s just practice for death. getting ready for The Big Sleep. let’s see how do i wanna go out? on my back?? nah not for me. on my front babey!

didi: hi sam sam: SHUT UP didi, quieter: okay…… sam: i love you didi: no bj: so you’re a grownup now. that’s means you have to do grown up things, like, pay for dinner and stuff? me: uh huh bj: it’s all downhill from here

bj: pon pon the van poco. right? me: mhmm bj: probably. i mean. i’m no doctor, but

random woman @ bar: we are the matrix. We. Are. The Matrix.

bj, to the tune of frosty the snowman: clunkity clunk clunk clunkity clunk clunk look at all this stuff. clunkity clunk clunk clunkity clunk clunk making casey’s job tough! pretty good right?? i just made it up

bj: *walks into kitchen* YES! that’s all i have to say. that’s it. BOBS killing it. DIDIS killing it. casey MURDERED it. you’re welcome. *walks out of kitchen* bj: today is the second day in a row my dog has eaten my lunch. yesterday and then today. it’s my own fault really bob: well you know what they say about men who like floppy french fries. *doesn’t elaborate*

sam: there’s a toy baby in my section. like just a toy baby taking up a seat in my section. what do i do like do i move the bitch? do i leave her there??

bob, talking to himself: if you get sick tomorrow, just remember. it’s your own fault for eating food off the floor.

bob, to katherine: no, you don’t have to mop the carpet

bj: cheeeesy.

laura: if i get through tonight without a heart attack it’ll be incredible. if i do have a heart attack tho just let me go

caldo: *unintelligible yelling* SELLING my BODY for SEX *more unintelligible yelling*

bob: my fathers brother sent all his kids to australia. i guess he figured at least one of them would make it

caldo: i don’t trust people who go out to eat tuna fish

bob: can you make some more guacamole soon we’re running low laura: pulls five (5) avocados from her pockets

bob: he looks like jesus. well. he looks like what white people think jesus looked like

sam: yeah. Please. eat some more mother Fucking crackers.

bj: i feel like i gave birth to the eggplant stacks tonight. and honestly? if my child looked like that? i’d be proud. proud to have an eggplant child

bj: alright everybody let’s get the fuf out of here!! i said fuf not f- it’s safe. f u f starts and ends with soft letters no one gets hurt. any word that starts with a soft letter and ends with a hard letter is bad news… i feel like every time i come in here i annoy you guys. casey’s one dumbass comment away from killing me. “hey so what are your thoughts on grass?” “that’s it” *mimics shooting a gun*

ilia: -and the dogs gonna get diabetes- katherine, indignantly: i cleaned it really well!

mickey: i’ll tell you one thing. crack is good.

sam: some lady just rolled up to the bar, no bra, nipples beamin through the shirt- LETS GET IT!!!!

caldo: *speed walks into kitchen and shotguns a beer over the trash* ok i’m back. i should not have smoked this morning

dom: little kid just picked up a knife and went “oh cool i can stab someone” me, katherine, and sam in unison: good dom: yeah the dad took it away

sam: my friend was like “why is your go to dance move just to snap” and i was like “i don’t know, i’m white” *shrugs*

bj: someone just asked me if i’m having fun. am i having fun? i don’t know if i’m having fun. there are certainly other things i’d rather be doing right now, but i don’t know if i can definitively say that i’m Not having fun.

bj: some jobs require Only a ladle bj, thirty seconds later, after walking away and coming back: sometimes, also a funnel

bj, @ laura who’s eating cornbread: you cornbread eating chef!!! laura: bj: laura: bj: i’m just saying facts in a weird way. you know like you’re in trouble.

sam: *war cry* *spits out gum* *walks away*

bj: what kind of smoothie? Soup Smoothie!!

katherine: so this woman ordered some hot water so i gave it to her and her husband says you know what that’s for right and i’m like ….to drink? and he says nope! and doesn’t explain so i’m just like ………..okay! and walk away bc i don’t even want to know

bj: there’s no shame in it! A Grown Man Can Bathe In Yogurt!!!

bj, leaning down very close to to-go box: i love you

bob: anyone want a drink? brian: whatever’s your strongest bob: milk it is

guy at bar: sUE HIM?!?!??? oh i’d sue him yeah

sam: who orders something extra cold?? like, you need to Die now thanks.

sam: do you dare me to drink this buffalo sauce me: yes laura, walking by: snort it

sam: one more day. just one more day laura: of what sam: waking up

bob: *is trying to explain easter to jewish laura* laura: wait so he died… then he came back to life?? then he died Again??? bob: he died. then he came back just to tell people he was alive. then he said SEE YA and ascended to heaven

sam: i HATE margaritas. i don’t know why i just made myself one.

bob: wow. i have this overpowering urge to just go home.

bj, putting back a slotted spoon: this is a bad choice for dressing. a bad choice.

me: *catches a plate about to fall* bj: woah! smooth moves!! spider-man? maybe.

danny: so you know how at my other job everyone calls me daddy?

sam: *dumps out two full wine glasses* i fucked up. tell no one.

me: remember when we used to be able to leave early? bob: no. i think we imagined it.

danny: i didn’t realize we served DICK here -a few min later- danny: sorry i just got out of work and i’m all fired up

sam: my moms drunk and she won’t go home

bob: hey wasn’t that slang for mari- bj: cocaine.

bj: *kicks kitchen door open* YEE-HAW!!!!

danny: sorry casey me: what for danny: for having to deal with me me: yeah *shrugs* danny: they should pay you more me: yeah

didi: i kill you ilia: do it now didi: no ilia: do it i wanna die

danny, about a burger: we’ve got ourselves a squirter!!

sam: is that a chicken patty sydney: it’s my dog

sam, on my last night with her: lets get casey TRASHED tonight

sam: are you gonna go dancing in new york didi: yes laura: whore it up

#this is insanely long #feel free to scroll past but you might get a chuckle #mickeys is not a restaurant it’s a den of chaotic energy #also if ur curious bj is a bartender and basically a manager #bob is the head cook and kitchen manager #sam is a waitress and bartender (and lesbian)#didi (pronounced gigi) is the buffest man i know and also gay and brazilian #oh and he’s a cook lmao #i got too caught up in describing his buff and gayness i forgot to mention his role in the restaurant #and katherine’s my sister #i think that covers all the main people #my post #feel free to rb but i doubt anyone would want to????#things heard at mickeys

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backtothestart02 · 6 years ago

Text

Fallen Star - 11/?

A/N: I’m pretty pleased with how this chap turned out. It was almost much angstier, so y’all can credit @westallen94 with inspiring me to make it a little more bittersweet than pure pain. lol.

*This chap goes out to @itzvickilou. Girl is so patient in between updates of this fic. And she did wait so long for this one. I hope this installment is one you end up loving, dear!

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing. :)

Chapter 11 -

The door firmly shut behind her, Linda did her very best to put Barry Allen out of her mind. If she started acting weird, Iris would know something was up. She didn’t know how much wine her friend had consumed, but even after several drinks, Iris had a tendency to sense when something was being hidden from her.

Unfortunately for Linda, when she looked over at Iris, she saw her friend had not barely taken a sip out of her wine glass, and the bottle beside it was still very full.

So much for hoping that she was on her second glass, she mused, then scolded herself. Iris hadn’t wanted to get drunk tonight. She should be thrilled that despite her last-minute push for alcohol, Iris still maintained her sobriety.

“Pizza’s here!” Linda announced, promptly dropping the pizza box on the table in front of Iris.

Miraculously, the wine only swished a little in the glass and bottle.

Resigned, Iris switched her gaze from the blank wall in front of her to the pizza box Linda was opening.

“I’m not really hungry…” she began, her growling stomach promptly interrupting her.

Her face heating up, she met Linda’s gaze sheepishly, earning her a snort in return.

“Oh, yeah, I can tell.”

Still flustered, Iris accepted the inevitable and propped herself up so that she was sitting with her back against the arm of the couch.

“All right, well, what did you get?” she asked.

“Your favorite!” Linda cheered.

That intrigued her. “Oh, yeah?” She turned the now open pizza box toward her, then frowned.

“What?” she demanded. “It’s got all your favorites: red peppers, green peppers, onions, hot peppers, jalapeno peppers, mushrooms, and olives. I even made sure they added in that extra spicy sauce not included on the menu.”

“So, your favorite,” Iris concluded.

“What? No-” But it dawned on her then just how she knew about that sauce. A brief fling with a guy that worked there roughly five years prior. “Oh.”

Iris shook her head. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. I’ll just pick stuff off.” She reached for a slice.

“But the sauce!” Linda warned, but it was too late – for both of them.

Iris thought she could handle her spice pretty well, but this was hotter than anything she’d ever tasted. She downed her whole wine glass in a single gulp and took the ice-cold glass of water Linda handed to her before she had time to down the wine bottle in its entirety.

“Wow.”

Linda laughed nervously. “Yeah…”

“Never again.” Iris pointed a finger accusingly at her best friend.

“Understood.”

Linda grabbed a slice for herself and plopped down on the couch beside Iris, eating the pizza as if it wasn’t setting her entire mouth ablaze and making her eyes water. She turned to see Iris staring at her, shock and disbelief on her face.

“Wha-?” she asked around a mouth full of food.

“I just…” Iris shook her head. “Nothing. You do you, girl,” she said, and poured her wine glass up halfway again.

“So, what are you gonna eat?” Linda asked after she’d downed her first slice and was reaching for another.

“That is an excellent question,” Iris said.

Linda winced. “I could order another pizza.”

She laughed. “How about I just make the brownies now, get high, and forget all about needing actual food in my system to get through the night?”

Linda’s eyes widened, panic setting off all her nerve endings.

“Right.” She swallowed. “Pot brownies.”

Iris had stood up and was about to head towards the kitchen, when she turned to look over her shoulder and saw the panicked look on her best friend’s face.

“I’m kidding.”

Linda blinked and looked up at her. “You are?”

She laughed and sat back down. “Yeah. That’s crime evidence. My dad’s a cop, but there’s only so many lines he’ll cross for his baby girl.” She took another sip of her wine.

Linda’s lips parted; her jaw dropped after what Iris said next.

“It’s just a good thing Barry figured out what was up and came over to demand the drugs. Would’ve been awfully embarrassing for me to have to return to the precinct with it, tail between my legs as I snuck it back to where it came from.”

The smack came on suddenly and had Iris rubbing at her arm and nearly spilling her wine.

“What the hell, West?” Linda demanded, but she was starting to laugh. “You could’ve let me in on your clever secret.”

She shrugged and sank back into the couch, cradling the wine glass in her hand.

“It wouldn’t have sold the same with Barry. And I needed him to actually show up.”

Linda’s brows furrowed.

“Why?”

Iris sunk into herself a little.

“So, I could see him,” she murmured to herself.

Linda’s heart broke.

“Oh, honey.” She took the wine glass from Iris’ hand, set it on the table, and pulled her best friend close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before sinking back into the couch. “You miss him that bad, huh?”

She knew she did. It was a foolish question. But she still asked it because for how crushed she’d appeared in the short period since their break-up, she was the rawest now, the most honest with her feelings.

“It’s like I can’t breathe, Lin. I feel like I’m suffocating every day, knowing I’m not going to be able to see him or talk to him…”

“I’m sure that’ll pass eventually, in time,” she offered. “It’s not like you won’t be a part of each other’s lives forever. You’re family. You’ll be friends again. It’s just…too soon.”

“I don’t know…I don’t know if I can go back to being just friends, Lin. And what about his threat to prevent me from going through with investigating any story that has even a hint of danger to it? If he follows through on that…I think I might just go crazy.”

“So, what are you saying? You’re not going to do that kind of story anymore?”

Iris scoffed. “No, of course not. I love those more than all the rest. They always have the biggest impact. They change lives.” She sighed.

Linda swallowed. “So, then…?”

“Maybe I just won’t be aggressive in searching for one.”

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Iris pulled back to look into her friend’s eyes.

“I mean…I think I was refusing the simpler stories simply because everyone was getting on my case to not do the more dangerous ones. Maybe the best way to transition is to not do that.”

“I hate to say it…but that may give your ex the impression that you’ve given up. That’s kind of letting him win.”

“It’s not a game, Linda.”

“No, I know it’s not. And I don’t like seeing you in danger, even if I understand why you do run straight into it something, but-”

“It’s okay, Linda. I get it. I’m not going to avoid the stories. I’ll just…take them as they come. And if I get bored of the mundane, which I most certainly will, those criminals will have something coming to them they wish they hadn’t.”

“And that is?”

She smiled mischievously. “Iris West.”

…

A week and a half later, Iris sat at her desk at CCPN and congratulated herself on her progress. She hadn’t gone out for drinks with Linda for at least three days. She slept at her own apartment in her own bed. She was getting work done instead of stalling endlessly, unable to get Barry and their break-up out of her mind.

While she hadn’t been handed a story that would give her a high simply by imagining the potential of it, the stories she was researching, interviewing, writing for were still quality stories. No interrupted robbery, stalled kidnapping, or attempted prison break should go untold, especially when it was the Flash who was stopping these terrible crimes.

And who didn’t love hearing about the Flash’s latest save? Central City citizens loved the Flash. They loved learning about his latest exploits and how great he was. The Flash was good press. Who didn’t want good press? Especially in a newspaper, driving to keep people buying the tangible paper instead of just browsing online.

That was what she’d been hired for initially anyway. Her blog about the Flash.

Her mind came to an abrupt stop when those thoughts registered. She leaned back in her chair and scoffed, disgusted with herself.

“The you from two years ago would have been so disappointed.” She frowned, her nose scrunching up.

She was more than a Flash fangirl. She wanted to write about stories that mattered. They didn’t have to be life or death, but anyone could write about the Flash’s everyday saves. Especially now that she didn’t really have an in with him anymore. She wasn’t at STAR Labs. She wasn’t interacting with anyone there except her dad and brother. And really, they mostly avoided the topic when she saw them. She preferred it that way. So, why the hell was she writing recaps on the Flash’s saves when all she was seeing was what any other citizen on the street could see?

She was supposed to be an Insider. Interviewing people who had been eye witnesses didn’t make her an insider. It made her an interviewer who could transfer words to paper. Which of course was a desirable trait in the industry, but nothing to make her a stand out. Nothing that would save lives. The Flash saved lives every day. Why shouldn’t she?

She pushed herself up out of her chair and walked out of her office down the hall to her editor’s.

“I need to speak with you,” she announced on entry.

Scott lifted his eyes up from the paperwork littering his desk and considered her with a look.

“Miss West, how can I help you?”

“I need you to know that I’m not gonna be your Flash girl anymore.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not?”

“No.”

“You really seem to have a knack for it, though. And you’ve been choosing those stories over literally anything else out there for the past week.”

“I know.”

“And wasn’t that what you were initially hired for?”

She ground her teeth.

“Initially. And I didn’t know it until I got here and found out I wasn’t allowed to write anything else.”

“All right. I’ll bite.” He relaxed in his seat. “What do you want to write, Iris?”

“Something…exciting. Something that matters. Something that will make me work a little. I want to live on the edge.”

He smirked in a way she knew she could have found attractive once upon a time. But there was no hint of a flutter in her chest this time around. Just a hopefulness that he would give her what he asked.

“I think I may have something along those lines.” He turned around in his seat and reached for a file hidden among the clutter there. He flipped through the contents before closing it and handing it to her.

“What’s this?” she asked, taking it immediately, greedy for a story that would make her forget all about the Flash.

“All the information I have on a new arms dealer in town with access to sophisticated weaponry like what Plunder used.”

Her eyes flashed. “Plunder.”

“Your most popular piece in the past week. Surely you can’t have forgotten already.”

No. Of course she hadn’t. Jared Morillo, a.k.a. Plunder, had a penchant for expensive jewelry. With the advanced tech on his guns, it took Flash interrupting him mid-theft three times before he was finally caught. That wasn’t emphasized so much though as was the fact that despite how dangerous he was, he was caught, just like all the others Flash had put to a stop.

“Iris?”

She blinked, looking back at Scott.

“Sorry,” she blurted. “I was just remembering.”

“Right.” He eyed her with some concern, but she ignored it. “Well, this guy looks like he might be similar or possibly worse. He could be a copycat, or he could be in line with Plunder and just picking up where he left off.”

She nodded. “Okay.” She paused for a beat then asked the question she knew she had to. “And…the police?”

He folded his hands in his lap. “I don’t know if they know anything. If they do, it’s not their top priority. I know your dad’s a detective, so if you think it’d be better in his han-”

“I’ll take it.” No way was she letting him finish that sentence. “I won’t let you down.”

He smiled a little. “I look forward to your article, Miss West.”

She smiled a little herself, then backed out of the office and retreated to her own. Setting the file on her desk, she closed out the tabs on her computer and opened a new one.

She could feel the blood pumping through her veins again, the adrenaline from taking on an exciting story that few people were even aware of. And it would change lives. She would make a difference.

…

CCPN was in near darkness when Iris left later that night. She’d gotten a lot of research done, but she knew she’d had to do a lot more, as well as interviewing several possibly connected parties before she could move in on the situation. For now, though, she was content.

And hungry. And exhausted.

She half-debated calling up Linda for some food, but her girl had looked more exhausted than she felt now when she left three hours ago. She decided not to bug her. It was a five-block walk to her apartment from here. She knew there was a good chance there was something to eat in her fridge, and with her apartment being as small as it was, her bed wasn’t far away either.

She cut down the same alleyway as always, not paying mind to how quiet it was, even though it was late. She was almost to the end of it when she thought she saw something move in her peripheral vision. She didn’t stop moving, but she turned her head slightly to see if there was anyone behind her or if she’d imagined it. She didn’t see anyone, but she did pull her purse higher up her shoulder.

Please don’t let me be mugged. Please don’t let me be mugged.

She rehearsed the kickboxing moves she hadn’t used in years in her mind, just in case she needed to pull them out at 11:30 at night in a dark alley that she just now was considering maybe wasn’t the best shortcut she could be taking.

She felt a tugging on her purse and spun around just in time to see a gun pointed in her face. Breathing heavily, she held her hands up in the air. Some fancy punches might work in hand-to-hand combat, but they wouldn’t do so well with a speeding bullet. Not when she was alone like this.

“Give me your purse,” the masked man demanded. “Hand it over or I’ll shoot.”

She wanted to retaliate, to talk back, and maybe she’d be able to, but not tonight. Fear was enveloping her in full force, demanding she succumb to it.

“But it matches her coat so nicely,” came the vibrating voice in the distance.

Iris felt the load lift off her shoulders and relief course through her.

The man turned around to see who’d addressed him, and when he did, Iris snatched the gun out of his hand and stuck it in her own purse.

“What the-”

But the Flash had him in CCPD custody before he could question what had become of his gun.

Iris was breathing heavily once she reached her apartment. She loved the thrill of running into a situation, knowing what great things it would do for her readers and those in danger once she came out the other side. But when it was out of her control, even if it was just a simple mugging, it was terrifying.

She’d have it out of her system by morning, she was sure. But as she sat the gun down on the kitchen table and stared at, she experienced again her hairs standing on end, her heart racing as she stared at the barrel intending to end her life.

The knock at the door startled her. She almost didn’t answer it, but then-

“Iris?”

Another sigh of relief.

“Iris, it’s me.”

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the gun, went to the door and opened it. She was greeted by a worried Barry Allen, who looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

“Come to collect the evidence agai-”

“Are you okay?”

Her tongue suddenly thick and heavy in her mouth, it took her a while to find words.

“Y-yeah,” she rasped. “I’m…I’m okay, Barry.”

He swallowed and nodded, then looked down at the weapon in her hand.

“I…I should probably…”

“Yeah, of course.”

She handed it over to him, and their fingers touched, not moving for the longest time. She could barely breathe.

Barry snapped out of it first, tucking the gun into his pocket before hesitantly looking up at her.

“You handled herself really well out there, Iris.”

Her heart raced. That was the kind of glowing compliment that usually led to sex. Especially because she knew it was genuine.

“I couldn’t have done it without the Flash,” she said softly, kicking herself when she remembered that their estrangement was based on her not needing him to save her.

“You’re really okay?” he asked. That should’ve annoyed her, but the tenderness in his voice was so…

“I’m fine, Barry. I promise.”

He swallowed and nodded. She could see the wheels in his mind working, wanting to say or do something because of how long it had been. Maybe he’d been missing her as much as she’d missed him. Maybe he was using this as an excuse to see her. Hell, maybe he’d coerced the guy into trying to rob her so he could save the day. At the moment, even the latter possibility didn’t bother her.

“Well, then, I guess I should-” He started to back away.

“Are you okay, Barry?” she asked, biting her bottom lip as she leaned against the doorframe.

He stilled and met her eyes. His mouth opened and closed several times, saying everything and nothing, the same as her. She wanted to yell and cry and scream and hug him and kiss him and pull him into her apartment and make love to him just to feel his skin against hers again, hear his racing heartbeat against her ear when she laid her head on his chest.

But of course, none of that happened. It couldn’t.

“Goodnight, Barry,” she said softly, so he wouldn’t have to answer.

He smiled slightly, appreciatively. “Goodnight, Iris.”

And then he was gone. She saw the flash of red as he ran past her window and sighed as she leaned back against her door.

“The man I love is a superhero,” she whispered to herself.

Then her eyes closed, and tears soaked her eyelashes.

So close, but not close enough.

*Also posted on AO3.

#westallen #fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #fallen star #chapter 11

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