#i learned how to rocket jump a little better yesterday

[swagstar]

AND my favorite games pisses me off. FUCK

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Sorceress (Loki Oneshot)

Summary: Loki comes to stay at the Avengers Tower while you are away on a mission. He becomes quite interested in you when he learns you wield magic similar to him and Doctor Strange.

Pairing: Loki x F!Reader

Word Count: 5,260

Warnings/Disclaimers: Anxiety issues, brief mentions of blood loss and injury, Wanda being an awesome friend

Masterlist

You wound your way into the kitchen and flipped on the electric kettle. Gathering your mug, you pulled out your calming tea blend. Today was the first day of the semester, and it always made you anxious. You felt like you had not rested one bit over the summer break. It probably didn’t help that Fury had sent you on a mission for most of it and you just returned yesterday, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. Just keep moving. This was your life now.

You went over the mental checklist in your head. Syllabus, notes, handouts...

“And who might you be?”

The low, charming voice ripped you from your thoughts, causing you to jump and almost knock over your mug. Swinging around to face the intruder, you found Loki the God of Mischief hovering closely behind you. You had forgotten about Thor contacting you on your mission to tell you Loki would be kept at the Tower for his punishment. Tony made him call you, something he did when he was afraid of you being angry. You had heard Tony coaching Thor in the background of the call.

“Don’t do that!”

He chuckled, taking a step back. “My sincerest apologies.”

“Riiiight.”

You folded your arms and took in his appearance. He definitely did not look the same as he did on the news when he tried to take New York. From the images you had seen, his eyes were wild and sunken and his face gave off a sense of malnourishment. The god standing before you now looked healthy with bright not quite blue but not quite green eyes that held a sprinkle of boyish mischief. Maybe Thor had it right about the possible mind control.

“Shall we start anew?” He bowed lightly, delicately taking the fingers of your right hand in his, forcing you to uncross your arms. “I am Prince Loki of Asgard.”

Oh no... Boyo was laying it on thick.

Nervously clearing your throat, you introduced yourself.

“A lovely name, my lady. May I ask why I have not seen you here before?”

He was still holding your hand. You could feel his energy pushing against yours. Was he trying to test your abilities?

“I was on a mission overseas. Just got back last night.”

“That is a shame. I would have preferred your presence here when I first arrived.”

You heard the click of the kettle and pulled your hand away to pour the hot water in your mug. He seemed almost disappointed by the loss of contact.

“I heard from Wanda that it was pure chaos for a while. She practically begged me to abandon the mission and come home,” you chuckled. “Don’t know if that would have done any good though.”

Taking a sip of your still brewing tea, you realized Loki had retaken the step back from earlier and was nearly looming over you. You regained that space, heading for the door.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish preparing for class.”

You rocketed out the door before he had a chance to respond.

You flopped on your bed after taking a portal home. Your closest friend Wanda was there to greet you.

“So how are all the magic newbies you ditched me for?” she teased.

You huffed a laugh. “Same old, same old. College freshmen who think they already know everything. They’ll be in a world of hurt in the coming weeks.”

“At least being an adjunct professor has its perks, right?”

“Yeah. I have some semblance of a life.”

You both started giggling at that.

“Are you still going to eat with everyone for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t see why not. Today was only day one of classes. Nothing to grade yet.”

“Maybe Loki will chill out then.”

You casted Wanda a concerned look. “What do you mean?”

She rolled her eyes and sat up on the bed. “Ever since Thor mentioned you could wield magic, Loki kept asking when you would be back.”

“Huh,” you mulled. “Guess that would explain this morning.”

“This morning?”

You nodded and hummed. “Yeah. I was in the kitchen making tea when he showed up.”

“You talked to him before me?!” She shoved you playfully, feigning hurt feelings.

“Because I totally planned it,” you laughed.

“So what did you think?”

“You mean other than tall, dark and handsome?” You paused as she snickered. “He’s alright, I guess. He was being overly nice.”

Wanda scoffed. “That little... Okay. So, when he wasn’t holed up in his room or the library being all nice and quiet, he kept making all these snarky comments to everyone. Then, there was the pranking... He saved that mostly for Tony though.”

“So what you’re saying is to keep my guard up because he could go bipolar on me.”

“Yup.”

“Great... This is going to be fun... How long is he staying?”

“Indefinitely.”

All you could do was groan and hide your head in your pillow.

Dinner was suffocating to say the least. Loki joined the team in the dining area, apparently a rarity for him, and they were not happy about it. Well, it was mostly the original team members, the ones who fought against Loki in the Battle of New York. The newer members like you and Wanda, while not fond of him either, couldn’t care less. Thor seemed to be the only who was content, shoveling food down his throat, unable to read the room with a silence so palpable and deafening.

This is... awkward. Wanda spoke to you through her mind, something she usually did when she was uncomfortable but still needed to express herself.

No kidding. I’m thinking about ditching.

Aren’t you hungry though?

Starving! But I can’t eat like this. I’ll come back down in a couple of hours for something. Maybe I’ll watch a movie til then.

Room for one more?

Always!

With half your plate empty, you excused yourself and disposed of the scraps in the kitchen. Steve, who usually fussed at you about your not so great eating habits, did not say a word. Sneaking some snacks for the movie from the kitchen, you went back to your room to wait for Wanda who popped by about ten minutes later.

You woke with a start, stomach growling and gurgling. You blinked away the sleep from your eyes and looked around. Wanda was long gone. You guessed she went back to her room after you fell asleep at some point. She was at least nice enough to turn off the TV before disappearing.

Your belly rumbled, again. Reluctantly leaving behind the warmth of your blankets, you stumbled to your feet and hobbled to the kitchen. You reached for the light switch, the kitchen being too dim in the low lighting left on at night. The lights turned on before you could find it.

“I was wondering when you would arrive.” Your name slid off Loki’s tongue like silk.

Letting out a breath, you tempered your scowl. “What made you think I was coming down here?”

“Aside from the dinner you barely touched?” he chuckled as he traced a finger across the counter. “Well, it can be considered rude to hold a private conversation from such a small group of people.”

You shouldn’t have been surprised by a magic wielder being able to see what other magic wielders are doing.

You folded your arms. “It’s definitely considered rude to eavesdrop.”

“That is quite true.” His signature smirk graced his face. “Although, is it really eavesdropping when I did not listen to what was being said? I merely sensed the exchange of energies.”

“Sure...” You didn’t believe him, but you would let it go for now. It’s not like you two had said anything damning. You just needed to be a bit more careful moving forward. “Now would you be so kind as to stand aside? I would like something to eat, and you’re blocking the fridge.”

“My apologies, but perhaps I may be of better service to you with,” he snapped his fingers, “this.”

The leftovers from dinner instantly appeared piping hot on a plate.

“How did you-”

“Come now. I thought you were a sorceress,” he smirked teasingly.

There was the ego you were expecting.

“I can manage the same end result,” you pouted. “But... the steps leading to it would be different...”

“I could always show you how.”

That grin and those alluring aventurine eyes would be the death of you. You wanted so badly to say yes. While you had the schooling and moved on to helping others, there was still so much more to learn. To say you were eager would be an understatement. The problem was you just met this Trickster God. How could you trust him so soon?

“I... I appreciate the offer, but maybe another time.”

You tucked some of your hair behind your ear. Why did you feel guilty for turning him down?

“Of course. The offer remains standing. Enjoy your dinner, Sorceress,” he replied, his disappointed voice betraying his stoic demeanor.

With that, he swiftly left the room. Yeah. You felt bad. Maybe you would find a way to make it up to him.

Weeks later, and you were frustrated beyond belief. The last lesson you attempted to teach was going nowhere. You needed help, and you needed it now.

You sprung from your room with your notes and textbook and practically sprinted to the library where Loki could usually be found. You were right. There he was lounging with his back to you on one of the couches amongst the books, reading Dante’s Divine Comedy.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Sorceress?” He didn’t even look up from the text. Not a good sign.

Taking a breath, you answered, “I was hoping I could get your help with something.”

That got his attention. “Oh? Would you not rather ask that Strange fellow the others prefer to associate with.” he scowled.

Great. Of course, he had to be in one of those moods today. His mood swings were to be expected but the timing was difficult to predict.

“Pff. The last time I asked him for help, he was a total ass. Just because he trained with a master overseas for a short period of time and has a photographic memory does not mean he fully understands every magical concept.” You brought your rant to a halt. You could say so much more but doubted anyone wanted to listen.

“Well, someone who sees that charlatan for what he truly is,” he snorted, snapping his book shut. “Now, pray tell, why would I assist you when your magic is so similar to his?”

Adding fuel to the fire. The rant was back on. With a huff, you came around to the front of the sofa and dropped your supplies on the coffee table, taking a seat next to him.

“You really want to get me started, don’t you? Look, I have been practicing and studying magic since I was child before I even knew what I was even doing. Hell, I’m still learning. That will never stop. I have worked my ass off to get this far. That’s why I get frustrated with Strange. He never believed in magic until it could help him in some fashion, and then he’s deemed a ‘master’ so soon after starting. Admittedly, yes, I am a bit jealous. However, I would not change how I have learned because it has allowed me to dig deeper and understand more.”

You inhaled deeply, signaling the end of your monologue. You had not really meant to go that far with it, but it was too late now. Your words hung in the air as Loki studied you.

“What do you need assistance with?” He flashed you a grin.

You silently screamed with relief. “Okay, so there was a theory I was trying to teach yesterday.” Flipping open the textbook to the right page, you brought your notebook and pen to your lap. “The students just aren’t getting it.”

Loki leaned over the table to read the book. “Magical Exchange: The Equal Exchange Theory...” His eyebrows could have rocketed off his forehead with how surprised he was. “This is an elementary subject.”

“It is a 101 course,” you shrugged. “I just don’t know how to explain it better. I’ve not taught a class that had issues with this before. This particular group has proven... Difficult.”

“Have you attempted a more... Oh what do you mortals call it,” he hummed. “A more ‘hands on’ approach?”

You sighed and unconsciously tapped your pen on your notebook. “Yeah. I tried to improvise like that when the text did nothing. It just made things worse.”

“I see...” His lips drooped into a frown. “Perhaps a new perspective is required.”

“You read my mind,” you teased, winking at him. You still had not forgotten that first day. “So if you were teaching this, how would you go about it?”

Clearing his throat, he picked up the text book and lounged back on the couch. An anxious silence droned on before he finally spoke again.

“This text describes the various classifications of what is considered Equal Exchange, yet there is little on what does not qualify.”

Loki proceeded on his own mini-lecture about the experiments performed by both mortals and Asgardians, many of which ended in failure due to the lack of Equal Exchange. One ended up being about the Philosopher’s Stone, a topic you had already learned quite a bit about. You scribbled notes as fast as you could, filling up a good quarter of your notebook when he had finished.

You chewed on the end of your pen while looking over your notes. “This could work. Between these explanations and showing some examples, they might grasp what all it means.” Letting out a tired sigh, you looked up at him with full sincerity. “Thank you, Loki. I owe you one.”

He chuckled deeply, sending shivers down your spine. What was he up to?

“There is one favor I wish to ask of you in exchange.”

You blinked deftly. “And what might that be?”

Taking your free hand in his, he gently swiped his thumb across your knuckles. “I merely ask for a dance.”

“A. Dance?” That was not what you had expected.

“Yes. Stark is holding one of his... illustrious parties next Saturday.”

Oh crap. You had purposely forgotten about that. Parties were not normally your thing.

“R-right! I forgot...” you mumbled, swiping your hair behind your ear.

“All I ask is one dance. Would that be acceptable?”

You gazed into his eyes where a dabble of insecure hope hid. “I... Yes. That would be nice.”

Your face felt like it was on fire when he kissed your knuckles, whispering, “Excellent,” before he helped you to your feet and gathered your belongings.

Saturday seemed to arrive all too quickly. Anxiety pulsated through your veins most of the day. Why were you so nervous? It was just one dance.

You sucked in a breath as you took in your appearance in the mirror. The off-the-shoulder, malachite dress hugged your form just right until it flowed gracefully from your hips to your knees. A silver pendant and heels tied off the look. You looked... Good. Better than you had anticipated. Now if you could just calm yourself down.

All those people, people you did not know for the most part would be there, too. Tony always invited so many guests no one else knew. But you also wouldn’t be alone. The whole team was going to be there. You would not be alone. One party should be manageable.

A knock at your door tore you from your spiraling thoughts. With a half-hearted sigh, you meandered to the door and open it to find Wanda and Vision. Wanda must have sensed your distress. She took one look at you, told Vision she would meet him downstairs, gave him a chaste kiss and stepped into your room, closing the door behind her.

“I-I don’t know if I can do this, Wanda.” You sat on the edge of your bed, thoughts of nausea swimming in your head.

She said your name with such resolution, your gaze snapped up to hers. “You can do this.”

“I don’t-”

“Don’t start. One, you look gorgeous. Two, you’re a professor AND Avenger. You teach in auditoriums and fight bad guys for a living. This party should not be a problem.”

“Small auditoriums...” you mumbled, earning you a look.

“Three, Vision and I will stay nearby. If any weirdo tries anything with you again, we’ll be there.”

Because you needed to remember the one party where some drunk rando was getting too handsy, the one where you had trouble controlling your abilities because you did not and do not like crowds. Tony, Steve and Wanda had to extract you after kicking out the drunk moron. That was your last party.

“I don’t want to be the third whe-”

“Shush. I’m not done.” She waved you off. “And four, once you have your dance, you can get the hell out of there. Okay?” She smiled sympathetically.

You nodded and looked at the floor. Wanda took you by the shoulders and forced you to stand.

“Alright, now breathe with me. Ground and center. Breathe. Raise your shields. Breathe.”

Doing what you were told, you started to feel better, the deep breaths helping the most.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Let’s get going. Remember, you can do this.” She guided you towards the door.

“Right... I can do this...”

I can’t do this...

You leaned on a wall out of the way, sipping on a light cocktail that you had hoped would keep you calm. It didn’t. Between the flashing lights, pounding music and the chaotic array of energies emanating off the guests just made you want to crawl in a hole and bury yourself.

Wanda and Vision were out of your sight but you could still sense them nearby. They’d be there in a blink of an eye if you needed them, but you didn’t want to ruin their fun. It also did not help that Loki was nowhere to be seen. At first, you thought he and Thor were getting ready, but that thought was thrown out when Thor arrived fashionably late alone. Maybe Loki decided the whole thing was a waste of time and backed out of coming. Yeah. That had to be it which meant you could bug out of here early.

“There you are, Sorceress.”

Never mind. Just as you had moved to the bar to set your glass down, Loki showed up behind you. You spun around, dress flowing out as you did. He looked taken aback with his cheeks slightly flushed. He muttered something under his breath but the music and chatter drowned him out.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

He just shook his head, smiling as he reached out a hand for you. “Would you care to join me on the balcony?”

Balcony?! Why didn’t you think about going out there? It would be so much quieter.

“I would like that very much.” You took his hand and let him lead you outside.

The balcony was so much better. The doors muffled the incessant beat of the club music along with the yelling guests. You took in a deep breath, taking the chance to glance at Loki and appreciate his look.

Yup. Still attractive in Midgardian clothing. His designer suit looked as though it was made only for him, the black color matching his curling hair that brushed past his shoulders. The green tie brought out his eyes and made them seem more saturated like an emerald. You definitely appreciated the new style.

“You’re staring, Darling,” he chuckled.

“Sorry. I’m so used to seeing you in your Asgardian garb,” you flushed. “T-the change is not unwelcome though. You look great!”

Great. Where were your words when you needed them most? And did he call you “Darling”?

“Thank you, my dear. Now, about that dance...”

That’s when you realized he was still holding your hand.

“What about the music?”

“I have something better planned than the noise Stark has chosen.”

He pulled you close, one hand encased yours while the other placed your free hand on his shoulder before snapping his fingers and keeping you close by the small of your back. A record player appeared playing Merry-Go-Round of Life.

“Shall we?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yes.”

Loki swayed with you along the length of the balcony, leading you into spins in time with the music. Neither of you had said a word since you started moving, but you did not need to. Everything was perfect. You felt like you were dancing on clouds amongst the stars. All of your anxiety had melted away. Needless to say, you were disappointed when the song ended.

“I do not suppose I would be able to convince you for another dance?”

Loki held your hands in his as he pulled back. He seemed just as disappointed as you.

“Well,” you mocked contemplation, “That wasn’t part of the original agreement.”

The soft grip on your hands loosened even more.

“But, I don’t see why I can’t make an exception, especially seeing how your explanations went over so well with the students. I haven’t thanked you for that part,” you smirked and with a golden flourish of your hand, changed the music on the record player.

Loki’s grin put the starlight to shame as he brought you back to him. As one song ended, one of you would switch it out to keep the music going.

Neither of you knew how long you were out there for. It had to have been more than a couple of hours since Tony was the one to break up your private party.

“Reindeer Games, Magic Hands! Pack it up! Party guests have already left!”

Both of you grimaced, hating your nicknames. Regardless, Loki led you back inside. Wanda and Vision had stayed throughout the party while you were on the balcony, and gave both of you these little knowing looks as you passed them. Ignoring them, Loki walked you to your room.

“Thank you, Loki. You made the night much more enjoyable,” you smiled brightly.

He smiled back, playing with the fingers of your hands. “I am happy to be of assistance, Sorceress.”

A moment of silence and you stepped forward, thinking of something a touch bold. “You know, if this were to become a regular occurrence, I might be persuaded to show up at Stark’s parties more often.”

A low chuckle reverberated in his chest. “That could be arranged.”

“I hope so.” You leaned on your toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, again.”

You slipped past your door so quickly you didn’t notice the lightly dusted blush on Loki’s face.

Today was not a good day. Scratch that. It was a terrible day. Some senior in Advanced Summoning got cocky and accidentally summoned a few large, irate creatures from the Fae Realm. With you being an Avenger and working for the school, it was no surprise you were chosen to handle the situation. Killing would have been easier, but you could not bring yourself to do it. It’s not their fault they were ripped from their home and dropped in an unfamiliar world. You were able to open a portal and send them back but not without sustaining a critical injury. You were barely able to close the portal before passing out from blood loss.

You woke up in the medical wing of the campus, a fog clouding your brain. You felt the dull pain in your side where one of the creatures had swiped its claws whenever you tried to move.

“Oh! Please lie still!” A healer came rushing over. “You don’t want to reopen the wound. We’ve done all we can to heal you without overloading your body.”

You just nodded and rested your head on the pillow. Looking at the window, you noticed how dark it was.

“What time is it?”

The healer looked at you nervously. “A little after 10PM.”

Groaning, you sank into the pillow more. “Do you know where my phone is? I need to make a call.”

The team knew your schedule, and they were going to flip, especially Loki. You two had grown attached to each other since the start of your balcony dances (there had been at least six so far). The status of your relationship was in limbo, somewhere between friends and romantic partners. Neither of you seemed to know which way to go.

The healer left the room momentarily before rushing back in. Handing you your phone, she warned, “Now, your phone started going off non-stop since about six this evening. We had to answer just to see if it was important and if they could wait until you called back. Th-the man on the other end. He was.. Not. Pleased. He started demanding to know where you were...”

“I understand,” you cut her off softly. “If I could get some privacy please, I will call him.”

She nodded and headed to the door.

“And whatever else he said, don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure he behaves.”

The healer pursed her lips and closed the door behind her. What the hell did he say to her?

You picked Loki’s contact in your phone. He answered in barely one ring, calling out your name. “Norns, are you alright?! Where are you? What happened?”

“Loki, I’m fine. I’m still on campus. There was a little mishap that I had to take care of. Got a little banged up in the process, but everything is okay.” You added that last part quickly.

“A little mishap? You should have returned hours ago. Please, allow me to bring you home.”

“Loki, the school only allows faculty members and students on campus. The wards make sure of that. And despite the constant demands, even Fury and Strange have not been granted access. They don’t even know where to look. Besides, you’re on lockdown. Remember?” You tried to reason with him, but knew he would not give up so easily.

He pleaded your name. Lately, he almost always stuck to pet names for you, only using your name when he was truly upset. “Please... I need to know that you are in good health.”

“I am, Loki. I will more than likely be back at the Tower in the morning.”

“Not tonight?” His pout was clear even over the phone.

“It’s late and I doubt the healers would let me check myself out at this hour.”

“I- Alright.” The defeated tone in his voice made your heart break.

“I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

“Please...”

“Goodnight, Loki.”

“Goodnight.”

As you pulled the phone away to hang up, you heard him call your name.

“Yes?”

“I... I will see you tomorrow.”

You hummed with a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

It was early morning when you finally left the campus. Loki didn’t answer his phone, so you left him a voicemail instead, fairly sure he knew how to access it. Cell phones still were not his strong suit, but he was getting better.

Stepping through the Tower doors, you were greeted by Happy who gave you the world’s most gentle bear hug. He had Friday let the others know you were headed up.

“By the way,” he yelled to you as you stepped in the elevator. “Loki was up all night worrying about you. You should go talk to him.” He winked at you.

You just shook your head as the elevator doors. When they reopened at the common room floor, you were greeted with Wanda tackling you before she dragged you out.

“Loki told us something went down at the University. What happened?!”

She pulled you into the common room to one of the sofas.

“Some moron was trying to impress a girl in Advanced Summoning. Brought in some undocumented creatures from the Fae Realm.”

“Of course... Now you were hurt? Where?” She started looking you over.

You lifted your shirt just enough to show the heavy bruising on your side. “The healers did a decent patch up. Just have to deal with this for a couple days, and then I’m good.”

“I wish I could help, but healing is not my forte.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine,” you smiled reassuringly, letting your shirt fall.

“Fine is not how you would have been classified yesterday,” a low voice came from behind the couch, startling you.

“L-Loki! I thought I had told you not to do that!” You clutched your chest, taking a deep breath.

“Darling, may I speak with you? Alone.” Loki gestured for you to follow him.

You squeezed Wanda’s hand apologetically. “I’ll come find you later.”

Loki led you out, down the hall and into the library. He didn’t say a word until he sat you down on the couch next to him, gaze on his lap.

“Loki... I-”

“Dove, what were you thinking taking on those beasts on your own?” He clutched your hands tightly.

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I’m one of the few stateside who is trained in battle magic,” you pleaded.

He was upset. It was obvious. Your heart shattered with how he looked at you, fear and worry melded into one.

“You could have called for assistance.”

“Loki, we’ve been over this-”

“Would they not have made an exception with their students in danger.” It was a statement. He was right about that.

“If there were time, yes. They needed to be dealt with immediately.” You tore your hands from his grasp and cupped his face for him to really look you in the eyes. “Loki. Everything turned out alright. I’m still here, and I’m okay.”

“And yet you almost were not.” His voice was so quiet, you barely heard him. “I... I do not...”

You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, encouraging him to go on. He pulled one hand away to hold while leaning into the other.

“Just be more careful from now on. Please.”

“Of course.”

“Promise me.” He squeezed your hand.

“I will. But first.” You took your hand from his face. “Finish what you were saying.”

He froze. “I am not sure what you mean.”

“You cut yourself off three times within twenty-four hours. You always finish your sentences. Now. What were you going to say?”

He still was not used to being caught, his initial confusion evident in his eyes which then darted about the room nervously. You sighed, and with a golden flourish of your hand, the library doors shut and locked.

“There. No one to walk in and disturb us or overhear.”

Loki was silent. He stared at your hand that was intertwined with his, then met your eyes.

“I do not know what I would do without you,” he whispered, bringing you into his arms in one fluid motion, your head tucked under his chin.

The scent of cedar and sage filled your senses as you returned the embrace and carded your fingers through his hair.

“Well, that’s not something you need to think about. I’m not going anywhere,” you responded softly. “Promise.”

He hugged you close, pulling you into his lap. His chest rose with a deep breath before he kissed the top of your head.

[fanfiction-inc]

“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

[Previous Chapter] / [Next Chapter]

Verse: Falcon And The Winter Soldier / Captain America And The Winter Soldier / Captain America: Civil War/ Marvel Alternate Universe

Characters/Pairings: Baron Zemo/ Reader, Baron Zemo/ Female Reader, John Walker

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8971

Warnings/Tags: Drinking, smut, m/f, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex, Google translated translations, Walker is an asshole and just keeps getting worse.

Summary: Baron Helmut Zemo, world renowned racer and your sworn enemy on the track. You two have been going at it for years now, but now you two must join forces to fight back against John Walker, a new up and coming racer who is proving to beat both of you. Will you two survive the other or meet your demise on the track?

Ao3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32606833/chapters/81176392?view_adult=true

This is a mess. An absolute, blazing mess that sits before you in the middle of your workshop. The chassis was dented all to Hell, a new one having to be rebuilt and delivered to fix your custom car. The engine had parts missing that were left at the crash sight when it was towed away. One car to your name, and it was fucked up. Maybe you should have taken Stark’s sponsorship and invested in a backup. Sitting on the cement floor of the workshop, screwdriver in hand as you pry out bits and pieces of parts from the engine, taking note of the parts and working on the budget you had set out for this year's series of races, you dreaded the moment you’d see the total cost. This repair would take a nice chunk, but you still had money left over after to make sure your car was at its best. That was the thing about working with your car, it was just you and this beast of metal and speed, working as one to reach the end of the line. The screwdriver is set down at your side when you struggled too long on getting the broken interconnecting rod that links the turbine from the compressor, a sigh following as you sit back. A slow sense of dread fills you as you look at the broken parts scattering the ground, the missing parts on your list, and the purple paint that still streaks the busted carbon fiber chassis. 

Working with Zemo was a dangerous game, which you recognized even before you shook on the arrangement he had proposed. He was wicked on the course, predictable at times but at others a ticking time bomb of what his next move may be. He was dangerous, but that is what made him damn good. He took far more risk than you usually would when it came to advancement in the race. Where you held back, he pushed forward. No wonder the man infuriated you. But this plan was the only thing you had to get things back to normal, back to the way they were where you hated Zemo with a passion and fought tooth and nail to stay better than him. You would never admit it, but without your rival, what fun was the race? See, it's not only the thrill of the chase between the driver and death, inching closer and closer with each hairpin turn and the risk of the other driver's moves. No, it’s also the thrill of having someone who wants to win just as bad as you, who is just as good and will do anything to try and progress further than you. It sets a standard, something to surpass, something to stay on level ground with when you catch yourself falling. Zemo was your equal, no matter how much you hated him. And equals like you two don’t have room for a third party to jump in and surpass. The game isn’t any fun when someone fucks with the rules. He had a point when it came to beating Walker down, especially since the man was already fighting you both with molotov cocktails and rocket fire in the form of playing dirty on the track. He was bringing a war to a battle just to see if he could come out on top. Despite everything telling you to stay away from Zemo and not get involved in this scheme, that it could end badly for one or both of you, you couldn’t stand the idea of having Walker walk all over you like some doormat. You couldn’t let him walk in as if he owned the place and could rule as he pleased. 

He needed a reality check. 

Your form pops and cracks as you stand, stiff from sitting on the solid ground and stretching to relieve your body of the tension. Everything felt so wrong, and you knew you had to make it right...But was this the right way to do it? “Jesus, you sound like that rice cereal with the little elves. You know, snap, crackle, and pop?” You laugh lightly when your friend comes into the workshop, food in hand and dressed down from the usual luxury attire he wore when visiting. No suit and tie in sight, just the oil stained wife beater you had seen him in when pursuing your education in the states as he worked tirelessly on his little toys as you liked to call them. He sets the bag down, the scent of the food causing your stomach to growl and pinch with a hint of pain. Have you really forgotten to eat today? You hadn’t noticed. “Got your favorite. Do you know how hard it is to find a restaurant that speaks English? I had to have Friday translate for me.”

“Maybe you should take a new hobby and learn the French language.” You retorted with a grin, the man shaking his head as he sets everything out. “Maybe I want you as my teacher, but you’re always busy with driving around in your fast little car and getting famous for fighting a Sokovian asshole.” 

“And you’re too busy tinkering away with your toys in your little workshop in New York. Truly Tony, don’t tell me you actually want me as your teacher when your toys can teach you for me.” You pause as he rolled his eyes, watching the man for a brief moment as he turned to unwrap his burger. “Speaking of said Sokovian connard, he came to the bar I was at last night.” The man paused mid bite on the thick patty before speaking with his mouth full. “Okay, spill, what did he want?”

“Well originally I thought he was going to cuss me and try to blame me for the failure to complete the race yesterday, but he showed me something. You know the young man who won the race yesterday, corriger? John Walker?” 

“Yeah, I know the guy. Races for the American McLaren team and came straight from F3 to F1. What’d he do?” 

He raises a brow when you sigh, taking a seat beside him on the desk he had set the food down on and stealing the dish he had brought you. “Zemo showed me proof that Walker hit his car and sent him flying into mine. And I believe he did it on purpose.” You explain, taking a bite of the food your companion got for you. You pause for a moment to chew before returning to your theory. “On my way to the car bay, he smirked at me, and it wasn’t a “I won” smirk- well, it kinda was, but it was rather a “I did this to you” kind of smirk. Not necessarily an evil one but one that showed he knew exactly what he had done and was proud of it. Pride in an unfair act.”

“And no flags were thrown up?” 

“Non, not a one. As our friend the Baron said,” you cringe at the term friend, “the ones watching the race possibly couldn’t tell if he had done such on purpose or by accident. I believe him about such. And I suppose that brings me to what I’m about to say next.” You take a breath, gaze conflicted and downcast to your food as you speak. “The Baron offered a temporary truce of our rivalry to take down this John Walker, thus allowing us to return to what we do best after Walker is taken down.” He listened intently before his nose scrunched at the idea of such. You two working together? Ha! That’d never work! “And you said yes to this crazy idea? What the Hell are you thinking, (first name)?” Your hands shoot up in defense, gaze rising to meet his own. “I know, I know! It’s a crazy idea, but you know as well as I do that if Zemo and I want things back to normal, back to the rivalry, we have to do this together so Walker is met with further resistance. If I could avoid it and deal with this American scum, no offense, then I would.” 

“Some taken, but I get it. I just wonder if you two will go back to the way things are after all of this. Who knows, maybe you’ll become that dreaded word you hate to associate with him in any capacity-”

“Ne t'avise pas de le dire, Anthony.”

“Friendssss.” He draws it out, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics and slap his arm with the back of your grimey hand. He pretended to show a hurt expression before chuckling when another slap came, this time to his chest. “Oh hush, we will never be friends.” 

“I guess time will tell.” A shrug followed as Stark finished the last bite of his burger, crumbling the wrapper and lining up the shot with the waste bin in the corner. “He shoots,” the paper lands in the bin, his arms going up in the air. “He scores!”

“Stop goofing around, ma amie. I asked for your help with this and now I need it.”

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Three weeks have passed, and the Germany race is upon you. The Nürburgring, a beast of a track that many racers to this day in Formula 1 fear like a plague sweeping the track. Your mind has been racing as you pieced your car back together and got it ready for racing. What happens if something wasn’t installed in the engine right? What if you didn’t get the intake vents lined up just right? You were a perfectionist with your car, and you know deep down that it was ready for race day but it made your head sing with pain as a migraine sets in. That wasn’t the only thing that made it throb and bring you to lean against the chassis of your car. Zemo’s deal, it worried you sick. But you didn’t have time to think about it much today. You couldn’t dwell on it. You had a race to win. 

Your eyes flick up at the speakers, listening to the message. It was press conference time. You take your seat where your name tag and flag set, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the crowd of reporters sitting and waiting to open up questioning. To your left, Walker seats himself with a boyish, charming smile that didn’t quite meet those dark eyes. He looked your way, hand held out to you. “Hey, I hate that we didn’t get to meet earlier on. I’m John Walker.” You glance at his hand before looking back up at him. He played a good game, acting innocent like the boy scout he tried to be. You wouldn’t fall for his games, but you shook his hand briefly. “(First name) (Last name).” He grinned. “Oh, I know who you are. I’ve been watching you race for years now! I hate that you crashed a couple weeks ago, would have loved to have been standing on that podium with you.” 

“Oui, such a shame that was. But today is a new day, Mr. Walker.” Your gaze flickered to your right, startled by your rival taking his seat and looking directly at the pair of you. The Baron never sat beside you, even going as far as to request a seat change from the press conference coordinators. Some learned to keep you two separate, others knew it would incur drama, and drama made money. 

“Alright everyone, please take your seats and the conference will begin in one moment!” 

“Say, did you get your car all fixed up? Must have cost a pretty penny since you don’t have any sponsors.” Walker continued on, this time his gaze looking at the reporters as he gave a brief wave to the ones he recognized from the states. “Oui.” He gave a huff of a laugh. “Not much of a talker, are you?” You wanted to bite back, to say something and throw hands with this man, but you would be escorted out and disqualified in a snap. “Non.” A leg bumped yours under the table and you glance at Zemo who met your gaze briefly. Those dark brown eyes questioned if you were okay, a silent question that only you understood. The slightest nod was sent his way before looking at the reporters who got things settled and ready. 

“Questions are now open-” The announcer was startled with the amount of questions directed in the direction of you three, clearing his throat as he nodded to your little trio at the table. Mr. Walker!” He gestured to the reporter, watching him stand and adjust his microphone and camera. “Mr. Walker, this question is open to the three of you. Under allegations from the previous race at The Circuit Paul Ricard, many are wondering if you had caused the accident involving Zemo and (Last name). How do you feel about these accusations?” The man had the audacity to laugh and throw that boyish smile to the camera, rubbing at his face. “Look, that was not supposed to happen once so ever. As many of my fellow racers can attest, one wrong slip of the hand on your wheel and your car will eventually go off track. I got nervous, twitched, and just so happened to bump the Baron’s car into Ms. (Last name)’s car. I feel terrible, I truly do, but it could have happened to anyone with any driver. So I refute these accusations and continue to say this is an accident.” 

“And you, Baron, Ms. (Last name). How do you feel about the accusations?” The reporter gestured his question to you two now. “I respect your opinion, Mr. Walker,” Zemo began, the man smiling and sending a nod his way. “But I call, as the Americans say, bullshit.” His smile fell, darkened gaze questioning the man on what the Hell he was going on about. The reporters erupted in questioning, trying to get the attention of the two racers who stare each other down around you. You lean back a bit for them to have a better view-line, One of the American reporters calling your name. You use this moment to break the tension. “Oui?” 

“Do you believe you stand a chance as a woman against these two leading men now that John  Walker is starting to gain points and nearing your total?” You blink at his question before taking a deep breath, holding it to calm your throbbing head, and releasing it slowly. “Oui, I do. I believe I can keep up just as well as any racer. Take my racing career with Zemo. I have kept up with his old extrémité arrière.” The French reporters in the room resound in a fit of chuckles, bringing a smile to your face. “And against Walker?” You meet his gaze as he stares at you expectantly for an answer, forcing that smile he tried to use on you earlier. “I believe I stand quite a good chance, but que le meilleur coureur gagne.” You shrug, listening as the smaller drivers get asked their questions. The whole time there are eyes burning into the left side of your head, waiting until the racers are dismissed. Walker watches you as you walk out, watching the way Zemo comes up in tow as you make your way to the car bay. Something was up, and he could feel that there were clearly doubts in your mind about the accident in France. He would just have to deal with you later. “(First name), wait!” Zemo followed you into the bay, slowing from his jog to keep up with you to a stop near the desk holding your notes about the race and your vehicle. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with you in person since the bar.” He paused, looking into those eyes of yours that gaze at him curiously. “Are you ready for this, fräulein?” 

“Aussi prêt que possible, Baron.” You busy yourself with inspecting your car for any last minute changes, the man watching you as you inspect and work. “Good, good. And we are still a go, yes?” 

“Oui, we are still, as you said, a go.” He grinned at you, gaze flickering down your back as he looked over your uniform. Of course he had noticed you in all aspects before, talent and skill being the top, but never had he been this close like the night at the bar and now to really see you. Maybe after all of this, even with the rivalry, you could be friends, dare he say anything more than such. “You’re staring.” You quip, breaking him from his trance to meet your gaze. The faintest hint of color lingered on your cheeks. He coughed, trying to clear away the embarrassment lingering in his form. Why was he getting embarrassed? “Just thinking about what will be left behind when I pass you on the track, mein liebe.” Your eye roll doesn’t go unnoticed, the man relaxing due to how calm you are around him. No biting his head off, no anger, just chill. You stand and give a playful shove to his shoulder, smiling at the Sokovian. “In your dreams, Sokovian. Now, get the fuck out of my car bay.” He smiled to himself as he walked away, mind now clouded by the smile that lingered on your lips. He liked when you smiled, and he had to make sure this plan worked. 

The race was gearing up to start, the same process as before coming into play. Car, balaclava, wheel. You take your moment to breathe, today your speed has placed you in second, just as the plan entailed. Zemo took the first position. He glanced your way, sending a nod in your direction, only to smirk beneath the balaclava when you flip him off like usual. The rivalry was still on, no matter what he would still have that after dealing with Walker. Still have you in one sense or another. Your glance focused in on the man across the way in the pole position opposite of you, his eyes locked on the two of you before meeting your gaze. There he stares you down, even as his helmet slipped on. The visor was flipped down at the one minute warning, eliminating the final clarifying view of his gaze. It was clear he was cautious of you, maybe even lingering with hate. 

“Fahrer! Starten...sie ihre....Motoren!

That familiar purr settles into your chest, spreading through your body like a dam breaking and flooding the valley below. It stirs up the motivation to win once more, removing any doubt from your mind as you rev your engine. Zemo was right, Walker had to be stopped. With this attitude about racing, playing his little mind games and wrecking racers, he’d get someone killed just for first place. You couldn’t allow that...but you also couldn’t allow the rivalry you have established with Zemo to be broken because of someone else. There was too much there to be lost. Your fingers tighten around the wheel, licking your lips beneath the helmet as you prepare yourself for takeoff. The lights start counting down the race. Five seconds away, one green and two red lights. You watch them count down until the bottom lines of red are fully lit, then they flash off. You’re off, following Zemo right on the tail of his car as you start into the track. This track was a beast, your mind racing as it remembers every nook and cranny of it. Seventy three corners, eleven danger points, hair pin turns, all on a 12.8 mile long course that was deadly in the onset of any weather and people who get careless with their moves. Lucky enough, the sky was only overcast. No rain, little wind to interfere with the aerodynamics and mobility of the chassis, just the perfect chill in the air to remind you where you were in this moment. You take your turns with ease, avoiding the group of cars that began to follow suit on the track behind your own. Your eyes remained locked in on every shift to your side, Walker keeping close by within each turn and danger point you went through. 

As you drive, Walker gets up past you within one of the speed trap areas, the stretch of road allowing him to be up beside Zemo and leave you on the back of their tires. Zemo had a plan, you believed in this plan… but had he just been toying with you to get closer to Walker? Doubt clouded your mind, even as you sped up in an attempt to join the boys directly in the front. Perhaps you shouldn’t have followed this plan, even as you get through the first twenty five laps, then the next twenty five. Each turn brought your tyres closer to Walkers who eyed you cautiously from time to time, as if silently daring you to pull a move like he did. Maybe you’d be caught and black flagged. Hell, that would make his fucking day if that happened. As he watched you, he had failed to notice on the wider strip of the track how Zemo began to drift further and further ahead. Then he was side tracked, Zemo slowing abruptly and stealing the attention of the young American driver. “What the Hell!?” He yelled over the roar of multiple motors, watching your car join Zemo’s side and the original speed be resumed. Now you sat beside Zemo on the track, pedal to the floorboard as you two kept your lead and basically walled Walker in. Each time he tried to drift around, one of you would shift your car just enough to keep him locked in. A grin met your lips as you drove, the energy of the race taking a whole new shift as you got closer and closer to the last lap with your rival right at your side. Tips of the chassis lined up perfectly, rear aerodynamic fins aligned like a well oiled machine. You two were in perfect sync as you put Zemo’s plan into action. Create a wall of impenetrable magnitude. If Walker tried anything, all three of you would go down. If he tried to get around, he would be blocked. There was no getting out from behind you two. 

The checkered flag waved in the quickly approaching distance, your gaze for a moment looking at your rival. The blur of purple was steady, lined with yours like that of an air jet's flight coordination. Perfectly straight, and running at full throttle like you are. As your cars pass the finish line, debate begins to rise. It was too close in the end to call, at least not right away. You slow, allowing the purple beast to pass by and enter the pit before you, a silent gesture of courtesy to the man you worked with. He sent a small nod your way when he watched you get out of your car, helmet removed along with his balaclava and revealing the joyful grin resting on his lips. Anyone else would mistaken it for cockiness, but the look in his eyes said it all. You two did it, you beat Walker in the race! He must be furious! A breath is held on your end, helmet and the fabric covering your face discarded as you turn your gaze away from the arriving racers and the man you drove along with. You were locked in on that score board, curiosity eating at you for who may have won the race. You were neck in neck with the man, the smallest push forward could earn either of you the points for the day. No names shown yet, and you anxiously leaned on the hot surface of the carbon fiber vehicle as you waited. Each noise around you from the slow dwindle of engines to low, fading purrs to the pit crews of your respective teams surrounding you, your rival, and the newcomer were drowned out by the pounding of your heart as it flooded your ear drums. It felt like hours passed as you kept your gaze locked on, ignoring the happy clamour of your crew, the clasp of hands on your shoulder and pats on your back, even down to the ruffling of your hair in glee. Then it flashed up. 

1st: (First initial). (Last name) 

1st: H. Zemo 

2nd: J. Walker

The press goes crazy over the news, each respective country reporting their amazement over the finishing results.

“Ein fehlerfreier, aber überraschender Sieg für Baron Helmut Zemo, der mit (First name) (Last name) gleichauf den ersten Platz belegt!”

“Victoire pour la championne de France (First name) (Last name) alors qu'elle rejoint le Baron Helmut Zemo dans une rare égalité!”

“In a remarkable and truly unprecedented event in The Nürburgring F1 race! Baron Helmet Zemo and (First name) (Last name) tied in a photo finish for first place, a rare occurrence that has set back American racer John Walker from the potential for first place!”

Your breath comes out shaky, slowly slipping out as reality hits you like a wrecking ball to a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs as a happy noise rings out from your lips, joining your crew in the celebration as they hug and surround you. You placed first. Zemo placed first. Curiosity met you, your gaze looking to the man who celebrated with his own crew before allowing himself a chance to settle his gaze on you in turn. There he sent a wink, a silent congratulations that made you shake your head at his antics before refocusing on the celebration. You would be standing with the man in first place on that podium, both sharing the victory wreath and spraying champagne all over the crowd of fans and your respective pit crews who were basking in the glory just as much as you two were. You couldn’t help the glee bubbling up in your form, even as you make your way not too far from your rival. For a second, just a split second, you let the rivalry go and let your smile be seen in accompaniment with his gleeful grin, shoulders bumping when you’re positioned at the podium by the F1 management crew. Press swarm to the area like flies to a summer barbecue, wanting to catch a glimpse of the rivals standing together, being on the podium and sharing first place. “Not so bad working with my, as you put it earlier, old extrémité arrière, hm?” He questioned as you two stood together, the closeness you two were forced into for the photographers far more comfortable than it would have been under any other circumstances. He blamed the feelings he had at this moment on the victory over Walker, over the rest of the racers, not even thinking that perhaps this was beyond the fact that he won but that you, his favorite rival, won alongside him. “Non, not the worst.” You joked lightly, forcing a serious face for the cameras when they began to picture you two side by side on the first place stand. He accepted the bottle of champagne before you could, holding it out. “You may have the honor, (First name).” Your fingers brush his own as you grasp the bottle with him, popping the cork and sending the bubbly to decorate the crowd. Flash after flash met you as you stood alongside Zemo and basked in the glory of the win. “How about drinks to celebrate? Even as rivals, I believe a drink wouldn’t hurt.” He whispered the question, causing your gaze to lock on his own in brief surprise. Was he serious!? “I um..Oui, sure. Meet you in town?” He nods, gaze seeming to glimmer ever so brighter as he takes his leave. Even when you separate to get cleaned of the alcohol and switch to “civilian clothing”, your smile doesn’t falter. Maybe it would be good for you to drink the night away with company that didn’t seem as bad as you once had thought before. 

As you begin to peel away the racing suit, the flame resistant material bunching at your waist and revealing the open expanses of your back, the simplistic bra strap over the back the only material seen, you fail to hear the seething man enter your car bay. “Do you know what you just did, Ms. (Last name)? Who you fucked with?” Walker puts his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him, his face inches away from yours. “You went and fucked with the wrong man. You could have just accepted your loss, licked your wounds, and we would have been just fine. But oh no, you had to go and fuck with my winning streak with that Sokovian piece of shit.” He huffed when you shove him back, gaze narrowed and arms crossing over your bra covered chest out of annoyance. You could care less what he saw. “I don’t see why you’re so mad, Mr. Walker. You got a taste of your own medicine after that stunt you pulled back in France. You and I both know that was no accident.” 

“You know what? Yeah, I did that. But I see you are working with Zemo now, which is also a big no-no in Formula 1. Seems we’re both sinners of the race. The greed of it.” His tone was a hushed, harsh whisper. There was no need to alert anyone that he was in your private quarters harassing you. “I’m nothing like you.” Your tone came out in a hiss, his downturned lips curving up into a grin at your response. “Oh sweetheart, I beg to differ.” He chuckled at the narrowed gaze he was met with. “You and your Sokovian boy toy need to back off. Let this happen like it should or you’ll not like what happens next.”

“And just what do you think you’ll do, John? Because all I’m hearing right now is a lot of talking with no proof of any big execution.” Your lazy grin and scoff of annoyance at his presence left him to raise his hands in mock defeat, hands coming to rest on your shoulders once more with a harsh grip that made your body tense and hold you there. He leaned in, even as you tried to lean away, his lips moving in close near your ear. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” His tone alone makes your body betray you, the calm, cool, and collected front slipping as a shiver ran up your spine at his warning. And with that, he leaves you to get dressed for the night. 

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Zemo texts you an address for a bar off the beaten path in Cologne, Germany, further than you had anticipated in going from the track but a welcomed change of scenery. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” The words stick with you, even as you drive the main road into the big city, looking for the bar Zemo had invited you to. It was connected to a hotel, a fancy hotel at that, with old architecture and lavish exterior. You could only imagine the interior! A nervous breath is taken as you get out of the car, gaze meeting the man you had just won with. He smiled at you, clothing casual and the air around him feeling far more comforting now than ever. The incident with Walker had left you rattled, sending your nerve endings to buzz and let your body know that you aren’t okay. Even though you felt off, you force a smile to the man who wrapped a friendly arm around your shoulders and led you in to sit at the quiet bar. “So, did I not tell you the plan would work?”

“I just thought it was your cockiness talking, but I will admit, though it physically pains me to do so…” You pause, biting your lip. “Well?” You sigh. “You were right.” The words come out struggled and forced, the man's grin growing at such. “Ah~, I don’t believe I caught that.” “Oh va te faire foutre!” He chuckled at your words, hand raised towards the bartender to get you drinks. “What are you ordering?”

“Shots. We deserve something to toast our victory to, and I don’t believe champagne is your drink of choice.” He offered you one of the smaller glasses, his own raised before him as he locks those bright brown eyes with your own. “Ein Prost! To us, and our victory over John Walker. May that American schwein taste defeat again.” You raise your glass, hoping to drink away any thoughts about Walker's warning and leave it for the next day. Throwing caution to the wind, you decided right then and there that you would finally have fun and disregard the night that you sat across from your rival. Tonight you just wanted to drink. “À la vôtre!” The drink is bitter as it hits your throat and travels down your body, causing a warmth to spread soon after. Kuemmerling, a bitter concoction of herbaceous and bittersweet flavors. A drink of choice for Zemo it seemed because soon after the shots were downed, he ordered another round. 

Shot after shot after shot is taken down until your body is leaning against his own and a joke that is shaky at best from his part sends you into a roar of laughter. He holds you close, laughing right along with you. “So... It’s Barenjar?” He snorts at your piss poor pronunciation of the new liquor joining the mix, shaking his head at you as he looks on with drunken vision. “Nien, nien, Bärenjäger. Say it with me. Bä-”

“Bä-”

“Ren-”

“Ren-”

“Jäger!”

“Mick Jagger?” 

He laughs in defeat, shaking his head as he watched you. So relaxed, so calm. He hasn’t seen you like this before in his life. He’s startled by your sudden movements after downing your last shot for the night, catching you as you try to stand and stumble as your feet betray you. Your body landing against his, his arms slotting themselves around your waist as your drunken gaze catches his own. Those brown eyes of his are hypnotizing, keeping your gaze locked on his own. “I have something to confess, (First name).” He paused to wet his lips, trying to piece the words together in his hazy mind. “I have liked you since the day I met you.” He finally blurts out, fingers moving up to brush away a stray strand of hair that had fallen into your eyes. “You’re infuriating, yet calming. Stubborn and determined. Your smile is lovely and those eyes…” He trails off, leaving your hazy mind questioning what was going to come after, but you hardly have time to think about it as he pressed in closer, face inches from your own. The smell of Bärenjäger and Kuemmerling lingered on his breath as it fanned over your face, those brown eyes searching for something in your own. “Can you feel it, the connection we have? Can you see that we are not just rivals now?” His tone was just barely above a whisper, questioning you with a hint of desperation to his tone. 

“Oui.” 

That was the only answer he needed. His lips are on yours with fever and desperation, hands clinging to your form for dear life after hearing the words that sent him to fully fall into the feeling of you. You were his comfort, the one constant thing in his life. His rival...but right now you were the woman he sloppily kissed at the hotel bar as the bartender tried to catch his attention to tell you that you both were cut off for the night. His hands moved to grip at your thigh and tangle in your hair, abandoning the idea of holding anything back, the liquor giving him courage to make a move on you. He has wanted to do this for years, touch you, feel you, have you there with him in any way he could. He separated only when the threat of security was offered by the bartender, lips kiss swollen and a faint pant falling from them. “Come.” His hand takes hold of yours, leading you along to the lift and up to his room for the night. This hotel that he called home for the time being would serve well for what he had in mind to do to you. He led you inside, not even waiting for the door to close as he captured your lips once more, hands taking your rear in his grasp and hoisting you up so your legs wrapped around him, back pressed up against the closest wall he could find. He held you there, lips separating to begin trailing hungry kisses down the column of your throat and allow his hands to trace along your sides. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the bare skin there, wanting what he has longed for since the day he met you. A noise fell from your lips as he lazily suckled a mark over your pulse point, your fingers tangling into his dark hair and tugging the locks when his hips grounded against your own. He couldn’t help the fire blooming in his body, needy for the creature that has teased him for all these years, The one he thought he would never have a chance with because of their hate for each other on the track. He needed you, and in your current state, you were willing to accept any touch he offered. He was just Helmut Zemo tonight. Not your rival, not the Baron, just Helmut. And you were his (First name). 

A groan left his lips when you pulled him by his hair away from your neck, hands working to take your shirt up and over your head. Throwing it aside, he looked at you with a gaze of admiration. It was similar to the gaze he gave when looking at the new modifications to his car, taking pride in the beauty of things that drove him to win. He dampens his lips, fingers lazily dragging up the expanses of your back from bottom to top, resting on the clasp of the garment covering your breast. “Darf ich?” Your nod was all he needed, the clasp undone with skilled fingers that knew precision, holding still on your back when your arms rose to take the garment and throw it in an unknown direction to be forgotten about for the time being. He wasted no time with taking one of your breasts in hand, fingers running over the sensitive bud of one while he took the other in his mouth, suckling and lavishing with his tongue. He took his time, drunken yet slowly sobering mind savoring each and every noise that fell from your lips as he toyed with your body. You’re barely into foreplay and he already has your panties soaked, the Baron being a creature that knows exactly what buttons to push to get you going without even knowing your body. He was skilled, that much was for sure in your mind as he switched to the other breast, paying equal attention to each. Those brown eyes of his don’t leave your face for a second, watching every reaction and trying to commit them to memory. If he could only have you tonight, he wanted to remember everything he possibly could. Every detail of your body, everything that drew a hitched breath or a low moan from your lips. Every shaky breath and the way your body would press closer to his greedy mouth and hand. He stored it all away. Maybe he’d wake up the next day and fancy this a pleasant dream...It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten worked up by thinking about you. 

His hand traveled downward, cupping your sex through your pants as his own grinds up against your thigh, straining through the fabric of his pants. He ached for you, for your heated skin to be pressed against his own in a delicious rut of bodies. He traced along the seam, hearing the low whine that fell from your lips as he teased you through the material. “Helmut, stop for a moment.” The man paused all actions, his gaze shifted to a worried state as he met your eyes and spoke with concern. “Are you alright, mein liebling?”

“Oui.” Your fingers trace his jaw, the man's face briefly pressing in against your palm before delivering a soft kiss to the area. A tender gesture that sent butterflies to flutter in your stomach and heart to speed further than the foreplay had already caused. “I just...Take me to the bedroom. Please?” You preferred not being right beside the door where anyone could listen in, where anyone could hold a camera up to the peephole and record the sexual pleasures of the infamous Wildcard and Baron. That would make a top headline, wouldn’t it? He gave a chuckle at your demand, nodding as he kept his grip on you, your legs wrapping just a hint tighter around him as he moved you both to the bedroom. He’s gentle with setting you down, looking down at you when you unwrap your arms and legs from his form. “Scheiße, du bist perfekt.” He slowly worked on the buttons of his shirt, working each plastic piece through the loop with fingers that were known for precision on the course. A shift in his steering, taking hold of the semi-automatic paddle-shifters as he drove, it was all well calculated and that applied on and off the track. His shirt is shrugged off his shoulders, thrown aside before focusing on the belt on his pants. He gets it off with what can only be deemed a darkening gaze, knowing he’s getting closer and closer to having you. You rose to let your hands trail his chest, roaming over the lean muscle that rested there as feather light kisses met his collarbone. A shiver met his spine, shooting up in bliss as he allowed a moment to savor the feeling of you touching his skin. Your skin was so warm, so inviting. He was getting lost in everything. 

Your fingers shift down his torso, trailing his abdomen before looping in the belt loops of his pants to pull him forward, a low growl falling from his lips when you place a kiss above the waistline of his pants. Your movements were confident, unzipping his trousers and tugging them down to reveal the tent hidden behind his underwear. He swallowed thickly as he kicked his pants off, watching your every move as you cup him through the thin fabric, thumb moving to brush over the leaking tip and cause a shaky breath to leave him. “Maus-” A groan leaves his lips when a jerk through the fabric is given, his head falling back briefly. He huffed when you repeated the motion, fingers anxious to wrap around his bare flesh and feel that hot skin in the palm of your hand. But he stops you, hand wrapping around your own and bringing it to his lips once more. “Tonight is not about me, maus.” You’re surprised when the man placed his hand on your chest, lightly pushing you back to lay on the bed as he slowly sank down onto his knees, ”Es geht nur um dich.�� His lips drag slowly across your skin, trailing light kisses and nips along your abdomen and resting at the waist of your pants. He glanced up, a silent question of courtesy offered your way as his fingers loop in the band, asking permission like a proper gentleman. “Go ahead.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, his presence making you feel like you’re floating higher and higher on this ride with him. He gave a tug, your rear lifting and back arching to aid the man as he pulled your pants down and let them fall to join the scattered articles around the room. You’d have to go on a damn scavenger hunt just to find your clothes! But none of that mattered now, not when his hot breath is fanning over your needy core and face nuzzling at your thighs. He placed a kiss to your inner thigh before another followed, then another as he began to trail inward towards your covered core. “Aufgeregt?” He purred in questioning, a low rumble of a chuckle coming from deep within his chest spilling out at the small nod he is met with, loving how he has left you damn near speechless just by being so close. Your hips jump back before he gets a grip on them, his tongue moving over the wet fabric and causing a light whine to spill from your lips. “Helmut, please.” Oh, hearing you speak his name only egged him on further, needing you. He needed to taste you, to feel you. He needed you in every way, and his drunken mind only pushed him on to pull the fabric away from your legs and stare at the glory that is you. So wet, so beautiful. He wasted no more time, bringing your legs to hook over his shoulders and delved into the intoxicating honey pot he had been offered. He started off slowly, a long lap from entrance to clit given before the motion was repeated just to hear the noise that left your lips with each swipe. Zemo was mapping you out, taking note of what areas made your thighs twitch and tense, what areas made your hips jump back at the sensitivity of his touch, and what made those oh so delicious noises spill from your mouth. 

He allows his tongue to focus in on your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves in a rhythm that sends your head to spin and moan after moan to spill from your lips. “Merde!” He smirked against your core when your hand shot down to tangle in his locks, needing stability after he took your clit between his lips and suckled. He repeats the motion, gaze locked on your own and watching the sudden shock of the feeling run through your body. You were so reactive, and just for him. A lazy lick is given to the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your hips jerk lightly and seeing the tremble that began to settle into your thighs. “Close?” He questioned as if he was questioning about an everyday thing, totally not giving the impression he was getting you close to orgasm just with that sinful tongue and lips of his. O-Oui.” Your tone was shaky, breathy, eyes half lidded and watching his every move on you. “Gut.” A gasp fell from your lips when he sank a digit into your hot, needy core, arching along the way and searching for the sweet spot deep within. He wasn’t like the inexperienced boys who would just jab their fingers into their partner and hope it hits something. No, his fingers curled, probed, dragged and felt for that spot in a way that showed his experience. A second digit is added not too long after the first, probing the flesh within until he hears your moan and finds that spot that drives you to clamp your thighs around his head. A groan left his lips at the rush of slick is met with each probe, massaging that spot within you and only adding to the tension building in your core. Each throb he was met with only spurred him on. He was on a mission to bring you over the edge, and he would do anything to get you off. When his mouth returned to your still sensitive clit, tongue flicking of the bundle and including the occasional suckle while his fingers moved deep within, you were done for. A rough tug is given to his hair as your body convulses, thighs clamping around him and grinding your hips down against his eager tongue. He helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping at your clit until you give a light shove to his head to make him stop. A wicked smile crosses his features as he gives one final suckle, a squeak leaving your lips at the motion and shoving him back as much as your trembling body allows. He can only chuckle at the attempt, fingers removing from your throbbing core. He watched your gaze land on him when you caught sight of the digits, watching the man move his glance to them as if he was inspecting them before a quiet whimper left your lips when they were taken one by one into his mouth. He made it a show, teasing you as he cleaned each digit of your juices in a slow motion. Sinking down to the knuckle before returning and licking at whatever was left. “Tease.” You huffed, chest rising and falling steadily with your hammering heart. “Oh you know you like it.” He retorted, lazily letting his body climb up and over yours on the plush mattress. 

He pushed the final material separating you from him away, throwing the underwear away before letting himself settle in against your body. Zemo wasted no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, lips joining yours as he lined up with you, one hand taking hold of your hip while the other took hold of your hair, tugging it back enough to have access to your neck. As he begins to ease himself within you, his lips attach at a section of your neck, a harsh mark left in his wake as he sinks inch by inch within the lightly pulsing core that he toyed with before. A groan was left against your skin when he was fully settled, grip rough on your hip but movements gentle as he waited for you to adjust. He was no animal, not cruel! He knew that there was a possibility for pain if he moved too soon, and even in his drunken haze he recognized the look in your eyes, the slight twinge of pain from his size alone. The stretch wasn’t unpleasant, no, but it was an intrusion you weren’t quite used to when normally doing this. He lightly placed kisses to sooth you along the mark he left, trailing them up the underside of your chin, going along your jaw before soon connecting with your lips in a soft kiss. Something to distract you until you were ready for him to move. A shift of your hips was given when you tested the feeling of him in you, the moan that left your lips causing a low growl to fall from his own. He lifted his body to loom over yours, hand moving from your hair to cup a breast as he sets a slow, deep and even borderline sensual pace within your core. Slowly out until the tip stayed just barely in before plunging deeply into your warm, wet depths. He huffed with each push of his cock within your core, meeting your moans with a faint groan here or a soft growl there when your walls gripped him just right. He was losing composure with each faint twitch of your walls around him, pace beginning to pick up into a steady rhythm that developed the noise of slick skin hitting skin and the bed beneath to creak ever so slightly with each movement. “Verdammt!” He could tell how your walls began to tighten around him, how each noise leaving your lips grew louder and louder. His poor neighbors, hearing you both so vividly through the walls of the hotel. Yet he didn’t care who heard. As long as they knew that in this moment, you were his to take, that was all that mattered. Zemo moved his thumb to your clit, working the bundle along with the assault he laid on your sensitive spot deep within. Each clamp around him brought his own release to come closer and closer. “Cum for me, maus.” He demanded with a grunt, needing to feel you come undone to reach his own release. His words hit somewhere deep in you, the demand that was laced with a plea driving you to your second orgasm of the night. He groaned as he felt you clamp around him, the sensation alone causing him to remove himself from you and spill onto your stomach with a few quick pumps of his hand along his slick coated member. He pants, taking in the sight of you one final time for the time being. Messy, slickened by your own arousal and sweat. Your hair was messed up, your lips parted and panting. To add the cherry on top, you were coated in his release, a sight for sore eyes while you lay like this. He made you like this, and it swells his drunken ego. 

Slowly he eased down to lay at your side, bringing you in against him with an almost delicate kiss delivered to your temple. Your breathing slowly evened out, head resting against his chest as his fingers trail along your back, drawing imaginary patterns as his mind begins to blank. The alcohol was taking effect, causing him to enter a lull and for his eyes to flutter shut. As you lay there, catching your breath, you watch as he drifts away, a single question beginning to enter your sobering mind. 

“What have I done?”

Tag List: @darksxder | @mymagicsuitcase | @mischief-siriusly-managed | @alindeluce​

[the--highlanders]

The Spaceport

A conversation in a spaceport bar leaves Jamie feeling a bit confused.

on ao3.

“So.” Leaning into her chair, Sam tilted her her head back, her eyes drifting over towards the Doctor. He had made it to the bar, leaning across it to talk to the barkeeper, one fist held up to his ear with his index and pinky fingers sticking out. Whatever he was miming was totally inscrutable to Jamie, but the barkeeper seemed to understand it well enough, straightening up and wandering away into the back room. Shrugging to herself, Sam swung her feet up onto the Doctor’s chair, crossing one leg over the other quite delicately for someone wearing boots that looked like they were made of more metal than leather.

She was… a strange girl, Sam. Good strange, Jamie was quick to silently tell himself. There was a clear, no-nonsense way about her that he liked. It could verge on brusque, at times, but there was always a twinkle of humour in her eyes as she spoke, and she had a quick, wry tongue. And it was not often that someone could keep pace with the Doctor’s enthusiasm, either. She had managed admirably, occupying him for a solid half hour in an animated discussion about spaceship engines and the merits of various fuels. Their verbal sparring had left Jamie with nothing to do but nurse his drink and periodically check his watch, wondering if Ben and Polly might be kind enough to arrive a few minutes early.

They hadn’t, in the end. And so the Doctor had gone to ask the barkeeper if he could borrow some sort of contraption to check on them. But left alone with Sam, he did not feel nearly so awkward as he had been expecting. A few months ago, he might not have known what to make of her, with her close-cropped hair and firm, oil-greased-palm handshake and trousers absolutely covered in straps and pockets and holsters for tools. Now, though, he could see more clearly that he was the anomaly, perched a bit too politely on a rusty metal stool in a run-down spaceport bar. He liked Sam, anyway. That was the important thing.

She was a bit like Polly, in a way, he thought. They had the same sort of sisterliness about them, not afraid to comfort but not afraid to tease, either. Idly, he wondered if Sam had any siblings. Or if Polly did. He had never thought to ask.

“You and the Doctor,” Sam carried on, swirling her drink around in its bottle. “How’d you meet him?”

Well, there was a tricky one to start. “After a battle,” he said. The Doctor had warned him over and over again about telling people too much – letting on that they were time travellers – but Sam didn’t need to know which battle he was talking about. She must have her suspicions anyway, he thought, with the way the Doctor had been talking about spaceships that he claimed would be after her time. “We lost,” he added curtly.

“Oh.” A little of the humour faded out of Sam’s eyes, replaced by apparently genuine regret. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -”

“Och, don’t worry.” He flicked one hand dismissively. “It’s been -” How long had it been? A few weeks? A few months? It felt so far away, now, after all this time with the Doctor. Not always, and definitely not at night, when he woke up sweaty and gasping from some half-remembered dream. Sometimes it only seemed like yesterday that the Doctor had plucked him off Drummossie moor. But here, sitting at a table in a seedy spaceport bar with a girl who fixed spaceships for a living – all that blood and screaming and cannonfire could have been a lifetime ago. Could have been someone else’s memories. He was glad of it, really. “Don’t worry,” he repeated. “Anyway, the Doctor was there, an’ -”

“You just took off in his spaceship,” Sam finished for him, grinning.

“It’s a wee bit more complicated than that,” Jamie protested. “He saved our lives, me an’ - an’ a few friends.”

At some point, he was sure, Sam would lean back far enough in her chair that it would topple over. The thing already had its two battered front legs off the ground, but somehow she leant back even further, tipping her head over to take a swig of her drink. Stronger than the cheap and nasty rocket fuel the spaceport sold, she had said, and she grimaced every time she swallowed. When she set the bottle down again, though, a little red circle on the label caught Jamie’s eye. Alcohol free. Strong only in its bitterness, apparently.

“Your friends who’ve gone to old Newbry’s office?” she asked.

Jamie shook his head. “Ben an’ Polly were already travellin’ with the Doctor when I met him. It was Polly that asked me tae join them.”

The bottle was halfway to Sam’s lips when she paused again. “So what happened to your other friends? Or are they hiding in that box of yours?”

“Left. Gone tae Fr-” He caught himself just in time. “Gone somewhere else. I didnae want tae go with them. Was gonnae go home, but -”

“But then you went along with the Doctor instead,” Sam finished again, nodding. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and not something Jamie had spent night after sleepless night debating with himself. Well, it had seemed obvious at the time, he supposed, in the delirious simplicity of hunger and exhaustion and adrenaline and fear. Whether it seemed obvious afterwards was a different question. He raised his own bottle to his lips, just for something to do with his hands. “Love at first sight, then, was it? With the Doctor?”

It took him a moment to realise exactly what she had meant – but when he did, any thoughts of whether he should have stayed in Scotland flew out of his head. His drink caught in his throat, leaving him coughing and spluttering and wheezing, half-doubled over to pound his fist against his stomach in the hopes of hacking the mouthful back up again. When at last he emerged, watery-eyed and hoarse, Sam was frowning at him a little bemusedly.

Well, he supposed, that was one way of distracting himself from wondering if he should have stayed behind. Not that he was too keen on repeating the experience.

“What?” he rasped out at last.

“Well, you must’ve liked him, to jump in his spaceship when you’d only just met him.”

“Polly invited me,” Jamie repeated, a bit too weakly. “No’ the Doctor.”

But Sam was smiling wistfully, like she was not really hearing him. “I did that, a long time ago. A girl asked me if I wanted to leave the backwater of a planet I grew up on.”

Despite himself, he was curious. “What happened?” The question tumbled out of his mouth before he could decide whether asking would confirm Sam’s suspicions for her. Her very wrong suspicions, he added to himself. “To her, I mean.”

Sam burst into laughter at that, though Jamie could not see what was so funny. “You’ve met her,” she said. “At the scrap shop, remember?” Frowning, Jamie thought back to the dusty little scrap shop. There had been nobody there except - “Aliye.”

“But -” He remembered Aliye, alright. It was the rest of it that was giving him trouble. Any shock he might once have felt at Sam having a wife paled before his incredulity that a human – or someone who looked so human, anyway – could be married to someone with six arms and blue skin and a face like a cat. At least the Doctor looks human. The thought drifted through his mind out of nowhere, and he scowled at it. All Sam’s questioning must be confusing him. “You’re married tae her?”

“Mmhm.” Sam was eyeing him oddly. Well, Jamie supposed, she had been born hundreds of years after him. Maybe even thousands of years. It was probably perfectly normal for women to have wives with too many limbs and alien faces. “What’re a bunch of nice people like you doing in a place like this, anyway?”

“Eh?”

“Well, you know.” Sweeping her bottle around her in a wide arc, Sam gestured at the bar around them.

It was hardly that bad, Jamie thought. Lanterns hanging from the metal beams that criss-crossed the ceiling gave out the only light, yellow and greasy, and the tables were pitted with indents from knives and blackened with blasts from the funny light-guns people had in the future, and most of the other occupants were either too loud or too quiet – but it was not that bad.

“I’ve seen worse,” he said. Sam raised her eyebrows, and he shrugged in silent admission. “Alright, maybe I haven’t. But I’d rather be here than – well, a lot of other places.” Now it was Sam’s turn to shrug. “An’ what about you? An’ Aliye? You’re nice, aren’t ye?”

That made Sam laugh, deep and loud. “If you want to put it that way, sure. But we don’t plan on staying long. We’d have been off once Aliye finished that job, if you lot hadn’t come along.”

“Sorry we kept ye.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Sam laughed again. “Best fun I’ve had in years, hijacking that spaceship. But we’ve been around this sort of place before. Your Doctor seem to know his way around, alright, but the rest of you...”

“We didnae mean tae come here,” Jamie explained. “We just – arrived.”

“Mm.” Apparently done with leaning back in her chair, Sam let its front legs crash to the floor again. “Most people who arrive somewhere by accident go sightseeing, you know. They don’t steal the local gang leader’s spaceship and almost crash it into an asteroid.”

“Aye, well.” Jamie grinned, rubbing at his shoulder a little ruefully. Crashing into the asteroid would have been a death sentence, he knew – but swerving away from the thing at the last minute had hardly been painless. “That’s what ye get, when you’re travellin’ with the Doctor. Ye learn tae accept it.” He half-turned his head, his gaze drifted over to the bar where the Doctor still stood, some wee device clutched in one hand. He was talking animatedly to the barkeeper, gesturing wildly. “I’m no’ going tae marry him,” he said, almost automatically.

“Whatever you say.” Sam was watching him too now, sighing. “Looks like he’s out of money to pay for the phone.”

Twisting around again, Jamie sighed when he saw that the Doctor's discussion with the barkeeper was starting to look a bit heated. “’Course he is,” he muttered, more to himself than to Sam. “I’d better go an’ see if he’s alright,” he added more loudly.

Sam grinned. “Here,” she said, reaching down to rummage in one of her many pockets. She withdrew her hand once with a small spanner – twice with a handful of nuts and bolts – three times with a motley collection of wrapped sweets. For one startling moment, Jamie could have believed he was looking at the Doctor, not Sam. At last, she delved in to find a palmful of tarnished silver coins. “Give him these.”

“I can’t -”

“Go on.” She held her hand out further towards him.

He took them slowly, a little jerkily, wondering all the way if she was about to pull her hand away and close her fingers around the coins. But she just broadened her smile and flexed her fingers outwards invitingly until the coins were warm and solid in his hand.

“Thanks,” he said, struggling to turn his confused frown into an appreciative smile. “I dinnae think we have anythin’ tae repay ye with -”

“Consider it a gift.” Sam was lounging back in her chair again now, the neck of her bottle held between two fingers so it dangled loosely over the table. Her eyes had moved away from Jamie, and he did not have to turn to know what – or rather, who – was making her face light up like that. “Here’s Aliye,” she said, sure enough. “Now -” She tilted her head towards the bar. “Go and help him out.”

Shrugging to himself, Jamie pushed himself up to wander a little aimlessly across the room, flashing a grin at Aliye as he passed. She waved two of her arms at him in return, but her eyes were keenly fixed on Sam.

When he was halfway to the bar, he glanced over his shoulder, looking back towards the pair of them. Aliye had sat down beside Sam, the two of them leaning their heads together conspiratorially. A moment later, Sam met Jamie’s eyes, winking at him. Cheeks reddening, he turned away.

He took in a deep breath before striding over more confidently to clap the Doctor on the back. “Here,” he said, holding out his fistful of coins. “Use these.”

[call-me-rei]

Chapter 4

Vic woke up on Tuesday with a smile on his face. As soon as his eyes fluttered open, he thought about the picture under his pillow and seeing Kellin at school and he smiled. He couldn’t wait to see his friend that day.

He practically jumped out of bed and got dressed, excited to get to school. Mrs. Fuentes noticed the change in her son’s demeanor when he came skipping down the stairs for breakfast. It was a nice contrast to how he’d been at that time yesterday.

“Are you boys excited for school today?” she asked both of her sons. She didn’t want to put any pressure on Vic in case he wasn’t comfortable talking about why he was so happy, so she addressed the question to both boys.

“Yes!” Mike answered. “I think we’re going to P.E., and I like P.E. Ooh, I’ll need to wear my fast shoes!”

Vic couldn’t help but chuckle at his little brother. Mike was a very excitable kid. Some of it came from his age, but most of it came from his carefree nature. He liked getting into things, trying new things, and making a mess. And most times he got his older brother to do those things too. That just added to his excitement.

“Do you have P.E. today, Vic?” his brother asked.

“No, I have art.”

“Oh, art is boring. I’m sorry.”

Vic shook his head. Usually he’d agree that the class wasn’t very exciting, but today was different. Everything was just better today. Vic’s breakfast tasted better, the conversation at the table was more interesting, the sun was brighter as it rose in the sky, and the drive to school was more pleasant than it had ever been before.

The Fuentes brothers held hands as they walked into the school building. Vic smiled as Mike, who was loving the fact that his older brother was in such a good mood, swung their hands back and forth to a steady beat as they walked to the first grade hall. Vic’s smile didn’t falter as he hugged his brother goodbye.

“Be good,” Vic said. “Don’t cause problems.”

Mike scoffed. “I’m always good.”

“Sure you are.”

Mike stuck his tongue out at his brother which caused Vic to laugh. The sound was like music to the younger’s ears. He walked forward and hugged his older brother as tight as he could, letting him know that he loved how happy Vic was that morning. And Vic couldn’t lie, he was loving the mood he was in that day too. He only hoped he could keep that good feeling.

After he saw Mike enter his classroom Vic went to his own. He held his head up as he walked down the hall to the third grade section of the school and put his unnecessary items in his locker. Then he went into Ms. Barnes’ room ready to start the day.

Today was a better day. Vic was in a better mood even when nothing really changed in the last twenty-four hours. The kids at that one table still looked at him like he was the strangest person they’d seen; no one talked to him except the students at his table when Ms. Barnes instructed them to go over their answers on the morning work with the people around them, but Vic was still okay.

What kept him going was the fact that he would be seeing his friend in a few hours. After specials and lunch, he’d be outside with the thoughtful boy who gave him the beautiful picture. The thought warmed his heart.

Then he got nervous. What if the boy was expecting something back? Vic had learned from his mother never to show up empty-handed when someone gives you something, unless they gave you a birthday gift. Vic’s birthday wasn’t until February, not that Kellin knew that. He just wanted to make his sad friend feel better.

But Vic still needed to give Kellin something. How could he possibly show his appreciation? He wanted to express his gratitude verbally yesterday, but the more he thought about how much he loved the picture, the less fitting saying “thank you” was. He needed to do something better.

Thankfully he’d finished his math work before the class’s science lesson started so he had some extra time to think before the fifteen-minute brain break in-between subjects.

What if he wrote Kellin a note? No, he could think it’s cheesy, especially since he took his time with the picture. What if he drew Kellin a picture back? Sure, but of what? Vic loved drawing but he needed to know what to draw. What would show Kellin that he appreciated him?

Vic sighed and took out his binder. He opened the cover and pulled out the picture he’d slept with the night before. The picture that turned his day around and inspired the wonderful dream he’d had.

With a quiet gasp the brown-eyed boy pulled out a piece of loose-leaf paper and placed it on his desk. He knew what he was going to do, and he wasted no time starting on the project. While the rest of his classmates finished their work during the math section of the morning Vic worked, and he continued through the brain break before the science lesson. He took the project to art when the class went to specials and brought it with him to lunch so he could finish it before they went outside.

Ms. Barnes picked up her class before Mrs. Jones picked up hers, so Vic was outside before Kellin. He took his materials to the tree the two of them had spent time under the week before and sat. He continued to work while his classmates played.

Vic would’ve felt bad seeing the kids in his class playing together on the playground or kicking a soccer ball around in the field but seeing Mrs. Jones’ homeroom come outside put a smile on his face that he couldn’t hide if he tried. He looked toward the line of kids and saw Kellin near the end. The bright-eyed boy smiled when he saw his new friend in better spirits sitting under their familiar tree.

“Hi Vic!” Kellin jogged over to the tree with a wide smile on his face. “Are you feeling better?” he asked as he sat down next to the boy. Vic nodded. “Good. I didn’t like that you were sad yesterday so I’m glad you’re happy now.”

Vic’s smile grew at his new friend’s words. He loved that someone other than a family member cared about his feelings. It annoyed him when his family obsessed over how he was feeling, but when Kellin did it, it felt nice. It felt natural, like he didn’t have to force himself to be honest with him. Maybe that was what having a friend was like.

“Since you’re feeling better can we talk about that last episode of Pokémon on Saturday? Can you believe Team Rocket got away?” Vic didn’t have much to say about the episode since it just made him upset. How was it possible that Team Rocket escaped with all those Pokémon? That just wasn’t right! And for the episode to end on a cliffhanger? It wasn’t fair.

Vic let the blond boy beside him take charge of the conversation, only interjecting with quiet hums when he wasn’t too distracted with his project.

“What’s that?” Vic looked up from his page and saw Kellin trying to look over his shoulder. He was quick to hold it to his chest to keep it a secret.

“Nothing, just something for my brother.”

Vic didn’t like lying to his friend, but Kellin couldn’t even tell that he wasn’t telling the truth. “Oh,” was the response he gave before he went back to talking about something Vic wasn’t exactly paying attention to.

Vic eventually finished his little project and kept up the conversation with Kellin when he was done. Albeit, he didn’t say as much as Kellin did, but the blond boy liked having someone to talk to and someone who listened to his rambling. Kellin always felt as if the other kids were scared off when he started speaking faster than the rate his brain came up with words. But not Vic. Vic listened and let him talk, and Kellin appreciated that.

The two boys stayed under the tree until the whistle blew and teachers told the classes to line up. They then stood from their spots and dusted themselves off.

“Hey, Kellin?” Vic said hesitantly. The bright-eyed boy hummed as he looked at a nervous Vic. “Uh, I-I wanted to…um…” Kellin cocked his head to the side. Was Vic okay? Was something wrong? Questions of concern for his new friends flooded his mind while a different set of questions invaded Vic’s consciousness.

Why was Vic so nervous? It wasn’t like what he wanted to do was so hard because it wasn’t. Not in the slightest. So why was his brain making it harder than it needed to be? By now it was awkward: Kellin hadn’t said anything to urge him on and just let him stand there in inner turmoil. He probably thought he was a loser.

Vic shook his head to clear it. “Never mind,” he mumbled. He felt defeated from his nerves and decided it wasn’t worth it anymore. He gathered the materials he’d brought outside with him and joined his class in line before Ms. Barnes could yell at him for lagging behind. He left Kellin standing there confused about what his friend was going to tell him.

“Come on Kellin, let’s go!” a girl in his class shouted as she joined Mrs. Jones’ line. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and got in line behind her. The class walked into the building silently, but Kellin’s mind was racing with questions. He doubted he’d ever get the answers to them unless he bombarded Vic with them. That was something he didn’t feel comfortable doing. Vic had just started feeling better, and Kellin didn’t want to ruin his good mood with too many questions about something he was obviously uncomfortable talking about. He’d just have to wonder until his friend told him what he wanted to say.

Kellin kept that in mind as he gathered his things for math and science from his desk and prepared to switch to Ms. Barnes’ class. As he pulled out his math folder he thought back to the day before and the picture he left in his desk for the person who would sit there next. He had smiled when he got to his seat that morning and saw that the picture was no longer there. Vic had obviously taken it and hopefully he liked it. Kellin was embarrassed by it since he’d done it so quickly without much thought. Hopefully Vic thought it was a good picture.

“Okay class, it’s time to go. Have fun in math!”

Kellin rolled his eyes at his homeroom teacher’s statement. He’d never have fun in math.

He got to his seat in his second class and put his things on the side of the compartment that Vic had cleared out for him. The fact that his desk mate did that every day made him smile. It was so sweet of him.

Kellin reached into the desk to admire how clear it was (since his desk was never like that) when he felt a piece of paper in the center. He smiled; he knew that this was a note intended for him, similar to what he’d done for Vic.

He pulled out the paper and unfolded it. Rather than just seeing his name, he was surprised to find an entire paragraph on the outside of the note written in neat handwriting:

Kellin, Thanks for the picture. It really made me happy. I wanted to give you something back so here’s this. I hope you like it. Thanks for being my friend and caring about my feelings. You’re really nice :)

Kellin couldn’t help the wide grin that found its way onto his face and stretched the corners of his mouth. It’s not that he’d never heard those words from anyone before, but for some reason those words meant more coming from Vic. Maybe it was because Vic didn’t have many (or any) friends, or maybe it was the fact he made Kellin feel different than his other friends did.

He made Kellin feel wanted when he himself thought he was annoying. Kellin knew he rambled and talked too fast for his own good; he knew he liked too many nerdy things that his friends would never be interested in. He knew it, but he also knew that Vic liked that about him. He always let Kellin talk and never interrupted him to tell him he was speaking too fast or too much. He was interested in all of the same nerdy things Kellin was. He was someone Kellin could talk to about the things he would never tell anyone else.

Kellin appreciated that about Vic and cherished the words on the page. He was going to leave the paper like that and put it away until he realized that there was more. He’d only unfolded half of the paper that was folded in fourths. So he opened the rest of the paper until the 8.5x11 sheet was at its original dimensions. What Kellin saw made his smile grow.

Vic had drawn his dream, the same dream he’d had the night before that put him in a good mood that day, although Kellin didn’t know that. He just saw himself riding through the sky on a Pidgeot next to his new friend. Light clouds and Pidgeys surrounded them in the sky while Petilil and Eldegoss followed them in the grass. The two boys were laughing as they interacted with the Pokémon, making Kellin want to laugh too.

Vic had obviously spent a lot of time and effort on the picture. Unlike the one Vic had received, this one was colored in with colored pencils: Vic’s art tool of choice. His parents had bought him the thirty-six pack, so he had different shades of blues, greens, and browns to add to Kellin’s gift. Kellin thought it was beautiful.

The blond boy folded the paper up against its original creases and put it in his folder. He couldn’t contain the smile on his face as he did so, or the overwhelming happiness that filled his heart when he thought about the kind words on the back of the picture.

Before Ms. Barnes began her math lesson, Kellin took out a sheet of paper and wrote his own note to Vic:

I’m glad you liked my picture. I really liked yours too! Thank you so much! You’re great at drawing and you’re really nice too. I’m glad we’re friends :)

He ripped the paper in half and folded the part with the note in half and put it on top of Vic’s things in the desk. He knew the boy would find it the next day when he went to get his materials.

Kellin only hoped that Vic would like his note and believe what he said. He meant every word of it; he was glad the two of them had become friends. He felt as if Vic was a missing piece in his life that he wasn’t aware he needed. Little did he know Vic was writing his own note to his desk mate expressing those same feelings and strengthening the foundation for a friendship they’d both thought was unlikely.

[acidproofnotebook]

One-Punch Man Chapter 83, Update 124

As published online

Translator: u/AbaloneNacre

OPM 124

3: Genos: MACHINE GUN PUNCH

4: Garou: Guh! I’m barely able to move… There’s no way I can escape!

WATER STREAM

5: ROCK SMASHING FIST

9: Garou: Now di-

10: sound of Genos’ blast going off

Garou: You sly bastard… You intentionally allowed yourself to be buried in order to try and get a shot off on me coming in from above, didn't you?

11: sound of Genos righting himself instantly

Genos (to himself): In just an instant, the way that he was able to use his leg with Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist to evade my attack…

This guy… by focusing all of his nerves into that one evade, he was just barely able to hang on.

Not only that, but he was able to take advantage of my opening to counterattack.

12: Genos: No wonder the other heroes weren’t able to handle him!

13: Saitama: Alright, let’s go let’s go!

King’s hitpoint point gauge is down to the last millimeter! Perhaps now I’m the stronger one! Hahaha!

Oh? Still putting up a fight are you?

(to self): WHAT wait wait Calm down…

With just one more hit, I can win! Right here! Right here is where I turn this all around!

14: FUCK (editorial spice; lit. “no”)

King: Well? How was it? My skin-of-my-teeth fighting technique?

Did you enjoy it just a little? Granted, I didn’t let you win, but consider this as free advice.

Saitama, your movement patterns are too simple and monotonic. Even though I was giving you tons of openings, all you had to do was hit me once and you could have won with your eyes closed.

Oh well. That’s 81-0 for me then. I’ll lend you my console. It’d be good if you practiced more, you know.

in the background, the sound of Saitama becoming more and more agitated

15: Saitama: ThIs GaMe Is StReSiNg Me Out…

King: If you really want to win sometime, you’re gonna need to calm down. Keep it together.

phone rings

Saitama: (still visibly agitated) Something’s ringing.

King: Ah, yeah. My bad. This little fella’s going off in my packet.

Recently, a lot of heroes have been issued these phones. I hear that it’s still undergoing trials, though.

With one button press on this device, you can call for assistance in the immediate area.

Any way you look at it, it’s kind of a panic button for when your back’s up against the wall, I guess.

16: Saitama: WHAT?! Monsters?! Let’s go!

King: Ah. It seems like an S-class hero got to it first. Notification just came in.

Even if we left right now, it’ll probably be over by the time we get there.

No specific monster information on this one…

17: King: Speaking of, I’m a little concerned about all those monsters you keep killing near your place.

Even if it’s just in self-defense, aren’t you concerned?

Saitama: Ah, that… I left it to Genos to deal with.

I wonder why monsters have been showing up this often around here…

King: You know, that’s probably why you’re the only living there.

If monsters show up like they did yesterday in towns all over, then by extension, they’re probably going to really start increasing in numbers in places where people don’t live, won’t they?

How’s Genos doing by the way?

Saitama: Ah. He hasn’t come back since yesterday.

King: Eh? Is he okay? The so-called Monster Association has also revealed themselves. I think that may have even happened yesterday…

Saitama: I wonder if he’ll be alright…

Guess I better go. King! Tell me where that alert you just come from.

18: Genos: He’s strong, this one… In addition to his staggering speed, he has about as much power as Tank Top Master. Not to mention that gun of his that he doesn’t hesitate to use.

In my current condition, this guy is trouble…!

Shit! My vision is fading. My legs too…

19: sound of Garou starting to walk away

Genos: Stop. You can’t escape from me with your legs in that state.

Garou (to self): I’ll use that…!

20: Garou (to self): Remember those movements!

Genos: (sound of surprise)

21: sound of rapid movements, imitating Watchdog Man

Genos: His movement pattern has changed! He’s moving on all fours!

22: Garou: Shake. (TL: like the dog command, but also in this case lit. arm despite the hand character)

23: Garou: You’re quite fond of this arm, aren’t ya? But now there’s no way you can hit me!

grab

Garou: What..!?

24: sound of rocket motors and smashing him into the tree

25: sound of the cables wrapping around him, followed by him straining against them

Genos: It’s useless. Don’t resist.

Garou: Hehe…

Genos: ?

Garou: One after another…

26: Garou: Those heroes came for me. Popular ones at that! I was so pleased!

Genos: The world is in panic right now. Because of the arrival of the villainous Monster Association, public order is in disarray.

While we at the Hero Association are banding together to deal with that threat…

You? You’re just a small fry. Dealing with you for good will take no time at all.

Got it? Then disappear.

sound of his hand cannon charging

Garou: Me? Small fry?!

27: If that’s really what you think, then know this, Demon Cyborg!

If I, the Hero Hunter, could take you down, the world will become a much more frightening place now wouldn’t it?

Genos’ gun fires

28: tree splinters

29: shot blasts through the tree, Genos jumps out of the way

30: Genos lands; Garou tears his way free and aggressively runs his hands through his hair

31: Garou: I don’t care about no fucking Monster Association! No hero is a match for me — the Ultimate Monster!

32: Garou: I’ll show that to everyone right here, right now!

Genos: That kind of thing doesn’t exist.

From behind: Now!

33/34: sound of monsters erupting from the ground

Monster 1: Help the Hero Hunter!

Other monsters: Understood.

35: Garou: What’s happening?!

Sunflower: Iiiiit’s the Monster Association.

Garou, we’ve come here to meet you. Looks like you’re in a pinch, aren’t you? Let us lend you a hand.

36: Sunflower: My superiors are well aware of your achievements, and I’ve come to extend you an invitation on their behalf. Sounds great, doesn’t it?

Garou: You guys again? Don’t need you. Fuck off.

Sunflower: Well now well now, you can’t say that… I’m here under orders after all, you know.

sounds of monsters crying out in pain

37: sound of viscera hitting the ground

Sunflower: You’re kiddi-

38: sound of Genos skidding to a stop

Genos: Hero Hunter... So you are affiliated with the Monster Association after all.

I may have lost yesterday, but it was also a good learning opportunity. Now that I know that there’s more of them than we imagined, there’s no need for me to hold back.

39: Genos: Also, I’m a lot stronger than I was yesterday.

sword retracts

Genos: No matter when or what kind of threats show up, I’m more than ready to meet them.

40: Genos: Saitama-sensei said that in order for me to be a truly strong hero, I need to harden my spirit. Now I think that I’m starting to understand what he meant just a little bit.

I will not allow this surprise attack to continue.

Garou: Saitama-sensei?

Genos: He’s a hero for whom no monster is a match.

41: Genos: Incinerate.

KICK

42: Bang lands

Genos: Bang…

43: Bang: Genos. Would you mind leaving this to us?

44: Bomb: WHIRLWIND IRON CUTTING FIST

45/46: single sound of pain from the monster as he’s killed

47: Bomb: Bang, leave the ones that crawled out of their little hole to me. You take care of Garou!

48: Bang: Thanks, bro. Now…

It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Garou?

49: Garou: That voice…

sound effect of a figure that he’s not able to see clearly

Garou: Has that fucker of an old man come for me?

50: Bang: By the position you’re in, you’re but an insect.

Allow me to end you.

sound of Garou struggling to get up, and forcing his broken hands into the shapes that he wants

51/52: stances taken

53/54: Garou: GAAA

Bang: WATER STREAM ROCK SMASHING FIST

55: sounds of consecutive (not normal) punches

[thanksjro]

The Transformers, Issues #1-21: A Recap, For Research and Reference  Purposes, Because Otherwise it’s Just Going to Be Confusing

Before we begin, here’s a lightning round style recap on the 21 issues that took place prior to Roberts’ involvement:

Three years after the events of All Hail Megatron, the Autobots are in hiding, trapped on Earth with limited supplies, watching on as humanity attempts to rebuild itself. They don’t offer to help, because that would probably get them shot at- humans are still a little wary of the giant robots that friggin’ destroyed NYC, even if the Autobots are supposed to be the good guys. Sometimes the narration gets a little funny with words.

I know it has multiple meanings, but come on, who talks like this? I’ve always assumed Optimus Prime was the one narrating here, which is… well, IDW Prime has a very self-flagellating and elegant way of speaking. For better or for worse. God help you if Furman is at the wheel.

Of course, because the story needs conflict, Skywatch happens. Skywatch is a human agency whose job is to locate and eliminate all giant space robot threats. Prowl blows cover when the humans make it obvious that the kid gloves are off, ready to kill a Decepticon named Breakdown, and all hell breaks loose, as it is wont to do whenever the Transformers are involved.

Also, everyone looked like this, and it was bad for my eyeballs:

That night-demon is Ironhide. Don’t get too attached to him, he won’t be around for long. But then maybe also do, because he comes back, thanks to the power of comic books and being a giant robot. Do whatever you want, I’m not your mom.

Ironhide’s death leads Optimus to remove himself as leader of the Autobots, and he surrenders himself to Skywatch, because he hasn’t made a heroic sacrifice in the last twenty minutes.

By way of yet more property damage.

Optimus doesn’t name a successor, because he no longer feel fit to choose one. It’s probably actually so there’s plot tension over who the next Prime will be.

Also, Spike Witwicky fucks. He fucks and it’s awful.

With Optimus gone, Hot Rod- Rodimus now, though it’s never established when he decided to change his name or why- gets the hell out of dodge, having had his fill of Earth, and he takes a few friends along with him. Or, at least, he tries to. Decepticons kind of ruin that plan… and then they don’t, because they want in on some of that sweet, sweet getting the hell off of Earth. After all, the war’s over- no point in fighting anymore, right? Of course, Swindle is a part of the group, so take whatever that guy says with a grain of salt. A big grain, like the ones that come out of those fancy sea salt grinders.

Back with the guys who’ve decided to stick around for Optimus’ inevitable return, Bumblebee’s been nominated as the new leader of the Autobots. So much for being the kid appeal character- boy’s got responsibilities now.

Right after democracy happens, Ultra Magnus shows up looking for the boss.

He’s here to look into Ironhide’s death and Optimus’ defection/surrender to the humans. Dude must have booked it to get here, because that was like yesterday.

Any and all interactions between Spike Witwicky and Optimus go pretty much like this:

More people leave Bumblebee’s leadership. Rodimus is hunted down by Ultra Magnus for treason. Swindle channels his inner bisexual and starts dishing out some sweet finger guns.

He has excellent form.

Skywatch uses tech to lock the Autobots into their alt-modes, and starts targeting the defectors, in an attempt to get Optimus to talk to them.

Thundercracker watched TV for a year and a half, then had a midlife crisis, and now he’s following Swindle. Swindle starts asking Rodimus for more troops- er, friends to help them get off of Earth faster, trying to butter him up by calling him Rodimus Prime. I’d love to be able to tell you how that makes him feel, but you try parsing this friggin’ facial expression.

Magnus shows up, tries to arrest everyone, then leaves. Thundercracker has an epiphany about the nature of beauty he’s found in humanity, his soliloquy contrasted with the visual of a baby with a man’s head, and it’s genuinely upsetting to see.

All the faction insignias are photoshopped on, and it’s kind of distracting.

Swindle betrays Rodimus. Quelle surprise. Menasor shows up, and starts throwing robots around. Optimus Prime is released from prison and gets in touch with his inner monster truck. Rodimus steals Magnus’ ship and peaces out.

Over in space, the Decepticon forces have resorted to cannibalism to supplement rations, and Starscream has the Matrix of Leadership on a necklace.

The art switches over to something sort of like Hellboy, and that’s pretty cool. Too bad it only lasts for a single issue.

Skywatch and the Autobots form a tentative alliance. Megatron isn’t actually dead. Two guys in Skywatch throw themselves through a plate glass window for funsies. Spike commits a robot revenge killing. North Korea starts producing energon, and is working with the Decepticons.

Comic books are wild, y’all.

Spike doesn’t respect Bumblebee’s authority, going completely around him to talk to Prime while he’s having some alone time. The US President addresses the public in front of a hyperrealistic American flag.

The Autobots go covert in order to violate the UN sanctions. All the Transformers have vanity plates with their names on them. The Combaticons have a picnic on the lawn and show off their polyglotism. Optimus Prime gets in touch with his inner monster truck. The Autobot Naval forces get involved.

Bumblebee uses his pretty eyes on Thundercracker to try and convince him to help out, seeing as the Autobots don’t have any real air support at present, but it doesn’t work.

They’re very pretty. Thundercracker must have an iron will. Everyone gets weirdly handsome. The phrase “honked off” is used. Optimus Prime gets in touch with his inner monster truck.

I’m like 80% sure that license plate isn’t legal.

China gets involved, and it gets a little weird. Nuclear action is taken.

Cosmos will not be getting a lot more respect around here.

Thundercracker commits acts of terror to destroy the energon plants. Bumblebee addresses the rioting masses, and gets shot with a laser gun for his troubles.

Rodimus makes a pun and gets shot out of the sky. He survives by pulling a Indiana Jones fridge maneuver.

Starscream is turning into Gollum. The Cerebroshells are used with great flourish by Rodimus, who then holds Starscream at gunpoint. He shoots the Matrix.

Wow.

Rodimus attempts to sneak off of the asteroid, only to run into a rebuilt Megatron. Megatron proceeds to shoot him so hard in the chest he’s rocketed into orbit and is missing most of his torso.

The Don Figueroa cover of issue #14 seems to suggest that shooting Optimus Prime in the crotch is a valid plan of attack.

The gun Bumblebee was shot with looks an awful lot like Megatron’s alt-mode. Optimus isn’t mad, just disappointed. Ultra Magnus rejoins the narrative. Not a single human being in the military has a haircut that would pass regulation. The anti-robot cult is introduced. A sign that says “Fuck Robits” is seen in a protest. Soundwave shows up with his awful gremlin children and busts all the captured Decepticons out.

This guy needs to learn to double-knot his laces.

Megatron takes a little vacation in South America.

The gunman who shot Bumblebee was hearing voices from his electronics.

Megatron now comes in grape flavor and the Decepticons have a space bridge.

Megatron has a phone in his hand, and it’s very silly looking. As in, he makes a phone shape with his hand and that just works. I can’t take him seriously. The Megatron guns are actually part of Megatron, and were used to make the gunman shoot Bumblebee. Speaking of Bumblebee, he’s got one doctor keeping him alive at present, and it ain’t Ratchet. It’s some little old man.

Thundercracker comes home to find Starscream has broken in. Starscream has the Decepticon insignia on eight different parts of his body, including the crotchal region.

They show a woman get crushed to death on the news.

Brawn is given a solo mission, finds Starscream, and kicks his ass.

Megatron shows up on Earth. Ultra Magnus transforms to confront him, but he was carrying Bumblebee in his alt-mode and I’m not sure where he went when that happened. Megatron and Magnus have a little banter, then Megatron is shot, where it’s revealed that he’s actually running around in leather chaps and hot pants.

What a fashion icon.

Optimus and his team emerge from the depths of the ocean, having had their plane crash about three issues back. Everyone looks very put-out by the situation.

Brawn helps Thundercracker get to the doctor’s office.

Optimus Prime and Megatron finally have their little reunion. Turns out Megatron dumped all the Autobots with Ultra Magnus inside the city limits, where a bunch of hooligans with Megatron guns live. No word as to where Bumblebee went when Magnus transformed, but he’s here now. Jazz takes Spike and his coworker to save the day.

Megatron is having a moment.

Optimus fucking shoots Soundwave in the face, thus making himself just as bad as Megatron…? Not really how war works, but okay! Crisis averted.

Just kidding, because Jazz shoots a cop so hard he vaporizes. Good work, buddy.

Optimus goes on a solo mission to go kick Megatron���s ass, and jumps out of a plane, punching through the Decepticon’s ceiling. Megatron invites everyone to come out and watch him and Optimus beat the shit out of each other. Cosmos and Jetfire throw a satellite at Megatron from orbit.

An excellent question.

Megatron brings Optimus over to Omega Supreme’s digs and surrenders himself, then is promptly placed in the full-body harness. It’s… it’s something. Megatron reveals that it was Spike who murdered Scrapper the Constructicon like fourteen issues ago. Optimus is all “no waaaay, he’d never do that, I’d trust Spike with my life and also my wallet.”

Optimus immediately puts Prowl on the case though.

Rodimus falls down onto a planet, the Matrix having superglued itself to his chest to keep him from bleeding out. He looked pretty dead the last time we saw him, but he’s doing loads better now. He’s captured and made to be the power source of a large ship, so those who inhabit said ship can get off of the doomed planet they’ve been trapped on for ages. Rodimus ain’t cool with that, so he blows up his restraints with his flame-out ability and runs off. He hides in a cave, only to be attacked by a massive monster. Don’t worry though, because he’s saved by the mysterious Jangle Man.

The Jangle Man is Wheelie, who’s gone full Castaway.

Rodimus gets patched up and then watches Wheelie get high off music.

One of the lackys that brought Rodimus aboard the first ship shows up and attacks, only to be subdued and immediately spills all the beans he has. Rodimus channels his inner anime character.

Rodimus cooks up a plan to get everyone home, and it involves trickery, lies, and the power of music to tame the savage beast. He straps his chest into the power cables and, with only an addled Wheelie to watch over him, does the thing.

Rodimus wakes up to the Matrix having been removed from his chest. Problem: Wheelie piloted them to Cybertron, which is currently a gigantic, uninhabitable mess at the moment. Rodimus tries to get them pointed in the direction of Earth, but that doesn’t work out so hot.

Someone breaks into the ship. It’s Ironhide and Sunstreaker. Rodimus declares himself dead. He’s not, but he might end up that way if he lets the scout that just saw them loitering around outside the ship get back to his boss.

Galvatron comes into the picture, and Rodimus books it. They use their rations- because energon is blood, food, fuel, get well soon card, birthday present, and everything else for the Cybertronians- to power the ship and head back to Earth.

Speaking of Earth, Bumblebee’s not dead. He’s got a cane now. Rodimus shows up, gets some weird Bible-like captioning, and Bumblebee about has a conniption over the Matrix. Rodimus is all ‘whatever, little yellow dude’, and so is everyone else, as Rodders goes up to Optimus, hands him the Matrix, and then is officially named Rodimus by the space pope.

Optimus decides he needs to go to Cybertron to kick Galvatron’s ass, and invites anyone who wants to come with.

Bumblebee’s mad that no one’s listening to him anymore, not that they were really doing that anyway.

Optimus and his team fuck off into space, beginning their journey back to Cybertron.

Prowl gets a few minutes alone with Megatron prior to that, though. He’s well on his way to cracking the case of Scrapper’s murder.

Thundercracker fucks off into the sky, surely heading back to his bachelor pad to catch up on his stories.

And THAT, dear children, is the entirety of The Transformers, up to issue #22. We’re all caught up and ready for what’s to come. 

[willow-salix]

Day 62 of Isolation on Tracy Island and today felt like a good day for revenge!

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore Gordon, hell I love all the boys, but the younger two can be a handful at times and now and then you have to remind them who is boss. That was the point that we were at.

We got up early and tracked down a few accomplices that were more than willing to help us out with our plot and snuck the Furby into Gordon’s room. Now, we would wait.

Gordon emerged from his room about three hours later, carrying the Furby.

“I found your little friend,” he greeted me, waving the Furby as proof. “What were you expecting to achieve by leaving it at the end of my bed?”

“Nothing,” I frowned. “I just thought you might want him back, that's all.”

“Sure, that's all.”

“It is,” I shrugged, sipping my coffee.

“So it won't be a problem if I leave him here then?” He placed it on the table in front of me.

“No problem at all,” I assured him. “Hi fuzzy-butt, did you have a good sleep?”

Gordon looked at me suspiciously as he poured himself a glass of orange juice, but there was nothing he could say or do to prove that anything untoward was going on.

I went back to my toast and my tablet where I was busy sorting through my files and arranging them into folders (yes, that's what I had been reduced to in my need to be productive after more than 60 days) when the Furby moved. 

Gordon waited for me to freak out, and honestly it did make me jump, but I was trying so hard not to give him the satisfaction.

“He’s awake,” Gordon intoned in a deep and creepy voice. 

“I see this,” I commented, patting it on the head.

“I love you,” the Furby warbled.

“Aww, I love you too, Furby,” I replied. “It’s kinda sweet once you get to know it.”

I tried so hard not to react to the slightly disappointed look on Gordon’s face.

“So you don’t think it’s haunted any more?” he stole a piece of my toast.

“No.”

“Bet you feel a bit silly now, being scared of a toy now you know it’s not haunted?” he grinned.

“Who said it wasn't haunted?” I didn't look up from my screen.

“What? You just did.”

“No, I said no. Meaning no, I dont still think it’s haunted.”

“That's what I just said!”

“I dont think it’s haunted, I know it’s haunted.”

“Don’t be silly,” he laughed. “How would you know?”

“It told me,” I grabbed the last piece of toast and my tablet and stood up. "We had quite an in depth chat last night."

“It’s a toy,” he scoffed. “It’s programmed to respond to you. I looked it up, they have pre-programmed words and the more you talk to them the more words they say. They have no ability to record or learn.”

“You keep telling yourself that, boo.” I booped him on the nose and left him with the furry monster. 

Making myself scarce I let myself into the Round House, the new base of operations, where John, Scott and VIrgil were waiting for me.

“How did it go?” John asked.

“The seeds have been planted,” I answered cryptically. Not for any real reason, only that it was fun.

“Excellent, on to the next round.”

For the next hour we took it in turns to make random noises into his comm, spacing it out so that they happened every three to four minutes. We eee’d, we kaaaa’d, we squeaked and cooed, throwing up in the odd words like food, love or hug. It was disturbing, but oddly fun.

“OK, you’re up,” John said, handing over the baton to me and Scott. We had an acting job to get to.

We found Gordon, with the Furby, in the lounge.

“Hey," he greeted us, not looking up from his phone where he was watching a show.

“Hey,” Scott answered, getting comfy on the couch. I curled up next to him with my book and prepared to try my damndest not to laugh.

“Coooeeee!”

“It’s off again,” Gordon laughed. “It’s been chatting the whole time since you left.”

“Maybe it missed me,” I replied.

“Missed you,” it parroted back.

“Aww that’s cute,” Gordon smiled. “It must be learning already.”

“Cute,” it echoed.

Silence descended for around ten minutes.

“Tickle!” The Furby suddenly demanded. “Tickle. Feed me!”

“It’s hungry,” I told Gordon. “You had better feed it.”

“Feed me!”

For the next few minutes Gordon sat there with his finger in its mouth as it made nom nom noises and burped occasionally.

“Love you!” it chirped.

“Aww, hi Furby,” I chatted back to it.

“Hi, Hi, Hi,” it echoed.

“Should it know how to respond like that?” Scott asked, looking up from his magazine. "I thought it didn't record?" 

“It’s just a toy,” Gordon laughed dismissively. 

“What’s going on?” Alan asked, bounding into the room.

“Gordon is feeding his haunted Furby,” I answered.

“It’s not haunted,” Gordon scoffed.

“Weeeeee!” The Furby yelled.

“OK, that’s creepy,” Alan shuddered. “I don’t like it.”

“This is getting old, anyone want a cup of coffee?” I asked. 

“Coffee, Furby want.”

Gordon’s eyes grew a little wide but he hid it well.

“OK, how did you do that?”

“Do what?” 

“Make it answer you.”

I gave him that look that said he was being particularly dense. “I spent all day yesterday teaching it to answer back, in between screaming bouts of terror.” I rolled my eyes and headed to the kitchen.

I made use of the five minutes it took to make the coffee to let John and Virgil know how things were progressing and to give them further instructions.

“Coffee,” I announced, placing the tray on the table. A chorus of thanks answered me.

“Tanks,” Furby joined in.

Alan jumped, Gordon looked disturbed .

“It’s a coincidence,” Alan hedged.

“No it’s not, she's doing something,” Gordon answered, his eyes narrowing in my direction.

“Or John is,” Alan agreed.

“What am I doing?” John asked as he appeared in the doorway.

“Hi!” greeted Furby. John waved a hand at it in acknowledgement. 

Gordon and Alan exchanged glances.

“Tickle!”

“No.”

“Tickle!”

“This is getting boring,” Gordon groaned as it continued to demand tickles and tell him it loved him at regular intervals. “How do you shut it up?”

I shrugged. 

He pulled out his phone to look it up. “Apparently you have to leave it in a dark place to make it fall asleep.” He grabbed the Furby and stuffed it into Jeff’s desk drawer.

Peace reigned for over an hour. Scott excused himself to go for a run, John took his vacated spot beside me and Virgil joined us about ten minutes after Scott left.

“See, it’s gone to sleep now,” Gordon commented to Alan.

“Out!”

“What was that?” Virgil asked, looking concerned.

"He spoke too soon," I groaned.

“Out!”

“Was that the Furby?” Alan whispered, going pale.

“It’s probably just woken up or something,” Gordon soothed. "It heard us and responded."

“Want out!”

“Go and get it,” Alan insisted. “It want’s you.”

“No it doesn't,” Gordon scoffed, but there was an edge to his tone that said he wasn't as confident as he appeared.

“Gooooo,” it called.

“What’s it saying now?” Alan asked.

"I wouldn't ignore the ghost," I advised him.

“It’s just talking nonsense again, it’s programmed that way,” Gordon flopped back down again. "It's not haunted, it's not alive and it doesn't know anything!"

“Goooorrdon!”

“I’m out of here!” Alan was off quicker than Grandma when she spies a sale.

“Gordon, love me!”

“Wait for me!” Gordon shot off after Alan like he had a rocket up his butt.

“That, was glorious,” I giggled as John retrieved the Furby and took the batteries out.

“How long do you think we should leave it before we tell them the truth?” Virgil asked.

“At least until bedtime,” Scott answered, coming over to receive his well earned high five.

[mrs-tall-librarian]

Story Time Reflection - 10/1/19

This session I have my very own story time class once a week!  I teach the 2 year old class on Tuesdays and I love doing it.

I keep a very brief reflection after every story time in a spreadsheet with all of the components I used in that story time, but I thought it would be fun for me to do a more detailed one here, as a secondary way to remember it as well as create some content for this blog.  

So, yesterday was our Outer Space themed story time.  I actually suggested the theme but as it came time to pick books, fingerplays, and flannels I realized that while it’s a fun theme, it’s also kind of challenging!

I had my smallest class of the session yesterday with just 96 people (we count kids and adults) so that was a nice change from the 105+ or so that I had been having!  Crowd control and volume management can be challenging with such a big group, but yesterday went pretty well!

We always start with our hello song and class expectations, and then jumped right into Shake My Sillies Out.  This helps get the kids up and active, so that they’ll be a little tired and able to sit for a bit.  Two year olds have a lot of energy and you can’t expect them to just sit and listen for 20 to 25 minutes!

After that my host puppet, Dolly the horse, comes out and we do our bit.  It is the same every time and the kids and adults are starting to learn how her poem goes and they are participating.  I was nervous about debuting Dolly this session but it’s been going well and I’m getting more comfortable with it!  I do need to practice with her in front of a mirror just to get her posture a bit better, but I’m really happy with how my puppeting has been going.  :)

After Dolly leaves it’s time for the letter of the day, and since we were talking about outer space our letter was O.  Our new curriculum lead has been sitting in on my classes and leading some components, so she did the letter, but what happens is we say the letter and the sound it makes, then practice “sky writing” it with pointer fingers, and then we have three things that start with the letter - this time those things were owl, orange, and otter.  

Next is signing time, which we also try to tie into the theme when we can, so the sign was moon.  Our curriculum lead did this part as well.  We teach the sign of the day, and then put that sign into a song (usually to the tune of a well known children’s rhyme) to practice doing it.  

At this point we’re getting close to our book, so it’s time to do some more activity.  I use Jim Gill’s “Jumping and Counting” because it gets the kids really active - jumping! - but also listening, because they have to listen for the stops and practice with the counting.  It’s a really great one and I love doing it with the kids because they love it.  Seeing how excited and happy they are when that slide comes up just makes me smile.  

And now we come to the book.  This time I chose to do “Whose Moon is That?” by Kim Krans.  I picked this book last minute.  It isn’t really space themed exactly, but it’s about the moon so I figured it would work. 

It actually went really well!  The book is when class starts to get the most noisy because parents will chat and kids get antsy if they can’t see the pictures very well.  This book really kept them though.  It’s in rhyme and there are a lot of animals, so lots of opportunity to make animal sounds which helps keep attention.  The illustrations are absolutely stunning, and are a big reason I picked the book.  Not only are they high contrast, which is great for 2′s, but they’re also just really pretty to look at.  

After that we did an action rhyme (”If You’re Going to the Moon” to the tune of “If You’re Happy and You Know It”) to get them up and moving again.  And we ended with the flannel story “Five Little Rockets”.  That one went really well.  It has a repetitive rhyme and there is a lot of counting involved so the group stayed really engaged.  

Overall I’m really happy with how it went, I feel like this was one of my better story times since the session started.  Next week is Bears for the theme and I love that theme.  There is so much for kids that is themed around bears so there are plenty of books, flannels and fingerplays to choose from.  

[individuationfic]

Hoping I’ve Got It All Right Chapter 2: Don’t You Know What You’re Starting?

AO3

Sakura Sojiro is prepared for a lot of things, but he’s not prepared for the boys who walks into his café.

The kid is quiet. Polite. He calls him “Sakura-san” and doesn’t complain about sleeping in the attic. The only question he has is if he could plant flowers in the window if he can find a planter box for it. He is, in no way, shape, or form, the delinquent Sojiro was expecting.

Sojiro doesn’t know how to handle this kind of honesty, so he calls the kid a pain in the ass, tells him not to do anything reckless, and heads home, where even if Futaba comes with issues, they make sense.

*

[Akira]: Got here safe. Sakura-san gave me a big room.

[Jun]: Good! I shipped some dried flowers with your clothes. Make sure to hang them up.

[Akira]: Okay, Papa.

[Tatsuya]: You’re going to the school tomorrow, right?”

[Akira]: Yeah.

[Tatsuya]: Let us know how that goes.

[Akira]: I will.

[Akira]: I’ll probably head to bed early. I’m tired.

[Jun]: Good night, sweetie!

[Tatsuya]: Good night.

[Akira]: Night. Love you.

[Jun]: 💖💖💖

*

Papa sent some dried lavender, so Akira hangs it by what he decides is the head of his bed. Well, “bed” is probably generous. It’s a thin mattress on a bunch of crates. He glances at the couch he just wiped down and decides the “bed” is his best bet for any kind of restful sleep.

He’s glad he convinced Dad and Papa not to come. They would never let him stay here, and this is their last hope. Akira can deal with living in an attic for a year if it means everything will go back to normal after.

He re-deletes the weird red app from his phone, goes to sleep, and dreams of a blue prison, of twin wardens, and of a man with a long nose and a deep voice.

*

[Akira]: I met my homeroom teacher. Her name is Kawakami-sensei.

[Akira]: She seems tired.

[Jun]: She had to come in on her day off. Of course she’s tired.

[Tatsuya]: Give her my cell number next time you see her. I want to introduce myself.

[Akira]: Ok, Dad.

[Jun]: Did you ride the train today?

[Akira]: No, Sakura-san drove me. I’ll have to take the train tomorrow.

[Jun]: Well, be careful, and leave a little early so you have extra time in case you get lost.

[Akira]: I know, Papa, I will.

*

The punk kid reminds Akira of Uncle Eikichi, so he feels comfortable following him to school. Which would have been fine, but the school is a castle and they’re in a dungeon and all Akira wanted was a normal day.

He feels sick—like, physically ill—when the man his schoolmate called “Kamoshida” starts beating him. It’s the same feeling Akira had before he pushed the man who sued him, encouraging him to act.

So he does.

Even when he’s pinned to the wall, he struggles. He feels a bit like a feral ccat, wriggling and hissing and clawing at the suits of armor to get free. His back is already aching; it will probably be covered in bruises come morning from how hard he’s being slammed against the brick behind him.

But he keeps fighting, because he’ll die before he lets an innocent person get hurt if he can stop it.

And then comes a voice, both new and familiar, and his head feels like it’s going to break in half because the insides are too big for his skull. Call upon my name, says the voice, and release thy rage! so Akira says, “Arsène.”

The sound of his voice alerts Kamoshida, who stops in his brutal beating of the other boy to face Akira. The blond boy is panting, covered in scratches and bruises and looking half dead already. Something flares in the back of Akira’s mind. Something primal. This boy whose name he doesn’t even know is his. He knows this like he knows the sky is blue and Aunt Maya can’t clean. It’s a fact, undeniable and true. It’s not sexual or romantic, but the boy is his, and he refuses to let Kamoshida touch him again.

“I will stop you,” he tells Kamoshida, and he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. It’s low, guttural. Barely human. He’s gratified to see some of the color drain from Kamoshida’s face, and, emboldened, continues speaking. “You have no right to touch him.”

Kamoshida laughs, though it’s a bit shaky. “No right? I’m the king of this castle! I can do whatever I please!” He jerks his head, and one of the guards slams his shield into Akira’s face, knocking his glasses to the cell floor.

“If this is how you want to play it,” Akira says in that animalistic voice, “so be it.”

And there’s a mask on his face, and he needs to get it off get it off getitoff, so he rips it off, and he’s surrounded by blue flames that don’t burn.

*

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that?”

“You can believe or disbelieve whatever you want. I’m just telling you what happened, Prosecutor-san.”

*

The cat-monster he and the other boy rescue is familiar to Akira. He can’t really place why, just like how he knows the boy is his somehow, but this isn’t the first time he’s met Morgana. He tells himself it’s because of Arsène and Zorro and pretends that’s it until he has more time to think about it.

*

Going to school after… everything is surreal. He tells Kawakami-sensei he got lost on the subway and while he knows she doesn’t believe it, he also knows she has no proof that he’s lying. He gives her his dad’s cell number and sits behind the girl who got in Kamoshida’s car this morning and does his best to ignore his classmates’ pointed whispers.

*

The boy is Sakamoto Ryuji, Akira learns on Shujin’s roof. When Akira looks at him, he sees the white flowers of the copaiba tree, or maybe the African violet. Something that symbolizes his honesty and vitality.

He doesn't know why he has this power. He doesn’t know why the school turned into a castle and then back into a school. But he knows he wants answers and has the ability to get them, so he agrees to help Ryuji.

(Plus, he’s not about to leave Kamoshida alone with Ryuji again. Ryuji is his, and he’s going to protect what’s his.)

*

Sojiro is angry with Akira when he comes back to the café.

Maybe angry isn’t the right word. Sakura-san doesn’t really care enough about him to be angry. Irritated is more like it, Akira thinks. He gets another lecture on staying out of trouble because “I’m in the restaurant business, you know.” Akira does his best to placate Sakura-san and escapes up to the attic. He’s going to need his rest if he and Ryuji are going to make any progress tomorrow.

*

[Akira]: I think I made a friend today.

[Jun]: That’s great, honey! What’s their name?

[Akira]: His name is Ryuji. I got lost in the subway and he helped me find the school.

[Akira]: He reminds me of Uncle Eikichi.

[Tatsuya]: Just what we need. Another Michel.

[Jun]: Eikichi is a lovely person and if Akira has made a friend like him, he’s a lucky young man.

[Akira]: I think so, too.

*

It takes Akira and Ryuji an embarrassingly long while to connect the weird app on their phones to the whole school-castle thing. When they finally do, Akira is back in the strange outfit, mask and all, from yesterday and Ryuji is left in just his school uniform.

Morgana, despite his (and Akira is sure Morgana is a “he,” no matter what his name is) feigned indifference, helps Akira and Ryuji break back into the castle. And maybe it’s just Morgana’s phantom thief talk, but sneaking around like this really is exciting.

Not that Dad can ever know, Akira thinks as he strikes down another group of what Morgana calls “Shadows.” If he knew what a rush I get out of this, he’d keel over.

And that’s another thing. The fighting. Akira isn’t usually a confrontational person, assault charge notwithstanding. In elementary school, he was the kid who ran and got teachers, not the one getting into fights. But this place has a strange effect on him. It makes him animalistic in a way that should scare him.

It doesn’t. It makes him feel powerful.

*

Until he falls.

He and Morgana are lucky Kamoshida underestimated Ryuji. If he’d been pinned down like them, they would be dead.

As it is, Akira’s encouragement helps Ryuji awaken to Captain Kidd and they manage to wipe the floor with Kamoshida’s goons.

(Whatever primal thing in the back of Akira’s mind is, it’s pleased by Ryuji’s power. Akira’s just happy Ryuji can defend himself now.)

Ryuji is still worried about the volleyball team members they saw Kamoshida torturing. Sure, they’re not real, but everything in this world is a distortion of the real world, so they both know some kind of abuse is happening. And then there was the fake Takamaki and… ugh. Any teacher who thinks of an underaged student like that is the lowest of the low.

Morgana says they have to steal Kamoshida’s heart.

Akira has a lot to think about.

*

He’s waiting for the train at the Aoyama station, staring at his phone for a lack of anything better to do, when something rugs at the edge of his mind. He’s not used to hearing Arsène talking in his head just yet, so he jumps at the sound (feeling? thought?) of his low voice. Turn around.

What? Why?

Trust me. Turn around.

He’s not sure what could possibly interest Arsène so much, but Arsène is also a semi-physical manifestation of his inner self, so Akira shrugs and does as he’s told.

And freezes.

A few feet away stands a girl he never though he would see again. Sure, her hair is longer now, her face more angular, her body more lithe, but Akira would know her anywhere.

He sees the moment she catches sight of him. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open in shock. For a few seconds, she is frozen, but then she rockets forward, and Akira barely has time to lift his arms before she slams into his chest. It aches a little to realize he’s more than a head taller than her now.

She’s shaking in his arms. Quietly, almost too quiet for him to hear, she says, “Akira.”

He squeezes her, impossibly gentle. “Shiho.”

[nezzfiction]

ENMY Chapter 86 - Learning Curve

Chapter Synopsis: With the threat of a Grimm army looming on the edges of Vacuo, the Kingdom faces even more adversity with Salem’s personal arrival to see the war’s end. Meanwhile, Team ENMY must develop the skills they need to combat the Witch the only way they know how. Trial by Fire.

Series Synopsis: Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies. For her, that might very well be yesterday’s enemies. Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four will comprise Team Enemy(ENMY).

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below

.

Learning Curve

.

Proper teaching is recognized with ease.

You can know it without fail,

Because it awakens within you that sensation,

Which tells you this is something you have always known.

.

.

“I know I have a rep for being my team’s punching bag,” Mercury started, “but this end of the deal feels rawer than usual.”

“Heh heh, feeling intimidated, boy?”

“That’s an understatement.”

Temujin regarded the young man with a keen eye.

The two were alone, in the middle of the desert. The soft lapping of Vacuo’s beach cascaded just a mile to the east. Nothing but gold sands and hot winds around to keep them company.

“Why me?”

“Reasons,” Temujin shrugged. “Mostly due to the similarities of our style.”

“Yeah, I don’t see it.”

“Enough talk! You must learn with your body!”

“Wait, what?! Is that all the—”

Before Mercury could raise anymore protests, he felt the atmosphere around him collapse. The space he inhabited started to close on him. He couldn’t even fill the air in his lungs, as he inhaled desperately.

“Finished already? True to rumors, you are very quick,” Temujin frowned. “—at dying.”

Mercury instinctively activated his Semblance.

The winds collected at his heels, and then expelled his immediate proximity. But he could feel Temujin’s enclosure pressing in once more. With no other option, he propelled himself back through the air, out of his opponent’s territory.

“Running away, are we?”

“CRAZY OLD BAT!”

“I’m afraid you won’t get very far.”

Temujin dug her cane into the ground, and slashed it upwards. What started as a small whisk of the sand, became a miniature sandstorm in the from of a blade.  Mercury could only kick a wave of compressed air to match.

The two forces collided. Equal was their strength, but when the resulting impact settled, Temujin reappeared at a closer range.

She used it as cover to close the distance?!

“Much to learn…” the elder shook her head.

Mercury noticed sand clogging the turbines in his prosthetic. The jets of his legs sputtered, before shutting down. Though, he landed on his feet, he was well within Temujin’s zone of influence once more.

“You brats really lack some formal training, but that’s alright.”

The young man felt the sun beat down harder than he had ever felt it. It was like he was being roast alive. The sand underneath him mimicked the sting and burn of a million fire ants.

“We were all practically self-taught as well. That alone, might be the reason we are most suited to teaching you brats.”

“S-top…!”

“Don’t you worry. Myself and the others will cram a whole lifetime’s worth of experience into your little bodies.”

“I can’t…breathe…!” he rasped dryly.

“We can’t afford to waste any time. So, we’ll go with the method your team is so very adept at,” Temujin commentated with a wicked grin.

Mercury’s conscience was now fading. He was clearly dying.

“I might be going too far, but it should be alright. Even if you experience some memory loss, the body always remembers!” the old woman said, like it was someone else’s problem.

“Trial by fire really is the best way.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

“This is a joke, right?” Emerald asked.

“Do I appear to be in a joking mood?” Minerva Calico returned the question.

The two stood within a landscape that was ever-changing. Their environment was continuously built, and then demolished with rapid course. Time and space obscured beyond recognition. Reality and imagination intertwined.

It was the Never Realm.

“You know, Temujin’s plan to get rid of the Cuckoos is insane,” Emerald said.

“Quite so.”

“Even if we could possibly pull off what she’s suggesting, don’t you think this is the wrong way to go about it?”

“Possibly.”

Emerald threw the Headmaster a narrow look.

“But you’re going through with it, anyway.”

“Temujin’s judgment has rarely proven wrong. If she believes you are capable, then so shall I.”

“That trick with the hallucinated dream was something I developed over a year! It’s a bit more than just a leap going from that, to what she needs for Operation Gun Dog!”

“Then, we shall endeavor to make several leaps over the next few days. The foundation is already there, dear. We need only build on it.”

The mint-haired girl could only stare back slack-jawed.

“I thought you were the level-headed one in Vacuo! How come you’re buying into this plan?”

“Hm. It is my experience, some of the most troublesome students exhibit the most potential.”

“I don’t think anybody has as much potential as what you guys need.”

“Maybe, so. But If anyone is capable of attaining such an impossible standard in a short amount of time, it will be you four.”

For the first time Emerald could see, a fleeting expression of cat-like mischief traced the Headmaster’s expression.

“There are no greater troublemakers than Team ENMY, after all.”

“……Ah, fuck.”

With one wave of her wand, Minerva caused their whole reality to slant ninety-degrees. The sudden change in incline practically threw Emerald off into freefall.

Emerald stretched her mind out into the Never Realm. Trying to right herself physically would only backfire. What used to be the floor, was now a full-on avalanche. She needed to rewrite reality like she did hallucinated dreams. In this world, they were similar concepts.

But the sensation of freefall just wouldn’t go away. If she corrected the angle, she might die from the impact, or buried under all the debris.

Think fast, think fast, think-fast, thinkfast, thinkfastthinkfast!!!

She braced her body and crossed her legs. Emerald conjured her reality with desperate haste. A moment later, her body jack-knifed into the water below.

Once buoyancy negated her fall, Emerald made her way towards the surface. She avoided the giant, sinking boulders that followed her. For a brief moment, she enjoyed the feeling of cool water against her skin. But that relief ended instantly at seeing Minerva standing on the ocean’s surface—or more accurately, the ocean’s surface frozen over.

“You can do better.”

Emerald felt the underwater prison seize her, as she became trapped in ice as well.

The gap in skill was too much. Their masteries over the Never Realm was apparent in the scales of their conjurations.

Just as Emerald was panicking to come up with a new counter to the threat, Minerva continued to brandish a teacher’s bemused smile.

“Remember, dear—”

“There is no spoon.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

Yang barely strafed away from the fist that threatened to cave her nose into her skull.  Safety was a word that did not exist in front of her opponent. The next attack was coming before the previous one even ended.

Nai bound after her, his large hands wrapped the back of her neck in a Muay Thai plum clinch. Using his momentum, he pulled his lead knee into her stomach—then, another and another.

Yang felt her abdomen pummeled into soft meat. Not only that, but she could feel venom coursing through her skin. Nai’s Semblance was nastier than she expected.

She tried to break away, and for a brief moment, she succeeded. One of Nai’s hands freed from the clinch. But what followed was the fighter using the space to deliver an enclosed elbow-strike.

The downward slash made Yang see stars. A deep cut opened just above her right eyebrow, painting red into half her vision.

This isn’t a spar!

I need to use my Inheritance!

Yang’s Aura surged. The crystalline crown signifying her newfound power took form around her head. Fire rushed out from her Ember Celica, as she aimed for a close-range uppercut.

But Nai already read the move. He deeply inhaled a moment before, and with a great huff, exhaled a thick cloud of poisonous gas. Yang’s punch whiffed, and she rocketed out of the smog after.

*Cough! Cough!*

Yang hacked uncontrollably, before falling to her knees. The contents of her stomach emptied out onto the arena’s grounds. Whether it was due to the poison, or the repeated knee strikes to her gut, or both, she did not know.

Was he holding back before?

Yang turned her single clear eye to see Nai, waiting patiently not a foot from her. Her iris was dyed a slight pink. A faint signature of Neo’s Aura lingered there, granting her keener sight. But for all the good it did.

Their current fight was a far cry from when Nai attempted to capture her the other day.

He’s fighting to kill...

I can’t believe he’s forcing me to use the powers of a Maiden.

“Is that all the strength you can muster?” Nai’s voice rumbled down like rain.

“HELL NO!”

Yang pulled one foot under her, and kicked off with it. The blistering right hook missed, as Nai swung his body back. An immediate counter was incoming, when the Spring Maiden backpedaled out of the way.

The punch missed, but as the arm stopped short, the numerous chains wrapped around it gave way. The glove of metal links whipped about like barbed tentacles. Each lashed at Yang with the strength of countless limbs. The blue rings on Nai’s skin glowed with a fervor, lending his Venomous Semblance to his whips.

Yang assembled the shambled remains of her consciousness. She remembered her discipline. Her gauntlets went up, blocking the onslaught imparted on her. Once she was used to the rhythm and the feel, she started to parry the attacks one after another.

Finally, the rain of blows let up, and she took a much needed breather.

Damn it…

Damn it…!

DAMN IT!

Yang didn’t have to look to know. Nai was still standing just ahead of her. He stopped his attacks on purpose—watching, waiting, measuring.

She grit her teeth in frustration. At the corner of her eye, she watched the crackling veins in Nai’s body shift like broken glass. Her Semblance showed her the flaws and strengths of her opponent’s Life. But it meant nothing, if she couldn’t actually capitalize on it.

With all the miraculous feats Yang was capable of, none were compatible with dealing with the threat that was Nai’s simple strength. She could perform grand forces of nature that verged on being labeled catastrophes, powerful enough to level a city and countless Grimm. But the lone individual standing before her was a harsh awakening.

Nai didn’t allow her any space to breathe. The second she tried to muster any sort of defense or offense, the man was already crushing it. He truly outclassed her in three simple ways—mind, body, and technique.

Nai exemplified something she had been gradually straying away from. The warrior was the very personification of a weapon.

No.

A fighter.

Yang winced down at her own fists with a bitterness.

Right.

Before I’m a Maiden, I’m a fighter too.

She forced her glare ahead to her opponent. Yang felt unnecessary things shed away like deadweight. Her stray thoughts, her preconceptions, all of it would only hinder her. She needed to return to her basics, her origins as a fighter.

What the future held, whatever complicated situation she was in,

Nothing else but victory should be sought beyond her fists.

And the fire in her heart stoked once more.

“Come on!” Yang roared. “I’m not dead yet!”

She could have sworn she saw Nai’s lip curl ever so slightly.

“Very, well. I will grant you the mercy of warriors.”

Yang could already feel the venom eating away at her insides. In all honesty, Nai didn’t have to attack. He could simply wait for her to collapse on her own.

But the Fist of Vacuo hurdled towards her. At the same time, Yang braced her gauntlets under her chin, making her own dash towards the center of the ring.

…

There was only a single exchange.

He’s got a good straight-right.

Was all Yang could think of, before her body crumpled into the middle of the Gladiatorial Arena.

“Now, you will taste death,” Nai muttered to the corpse in front of him.

“And, you will rise again.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

In a humble training room, the tip of Raven’s katana dragged across its polished floor. A threatening ring played across the stone surface.

“Time to see those pearly whites.”

Neo obediently put two fingers on the inside edges of her lips, and pushed them into an exaggerated smile.

“…You know which ones I mean. Are you forgetting I saw it the first time we met on that train?”

“…?”

“You wanna keep playing dumb? I’ll kill you, brat.”

“…”

“Your swordplay needs a lot of work and you’re not using all the tools you have. After exchanging your Aura with Yang, that should have gotten stronger, too. It’s not as dormant as it was before, right?”

Neo’s empty grin turned into a bitter frown.

“Like I said, I know what I saw that day. There’s no way you would’ve lived through it, if you didn’t. So, I’ll say it again. Show it to me,” Raven commanded with a deadly tone.

Neo still made no moves to answer.  She only continued to refuse meeting the swordswoman’s eyes uncomfortably.

“Fine, have it your way. I’ll pull it out of you, whether you’re willing or not.”

Raven coolly returned her sword to its sheath, while hovering her hand over the hilt. Her form dropped low into an Iaido-drawing stance. Her irises gleamed with the red of her Reaper’s Semblance.

Neo was getting ready to pull her own weapon, when Raven’s quick-draw cut just above her cheek. A move that could have easily severed her head, if the swordswoman didn’t purposely aim elsewhere.

The sound of Raven returning her blade to its scabbard resounded with a piercing clink.

“That was a warning, you won’t get a second. You’re making a mistake if you think this is a spar.”

Neo traced a trembling hand to the blood trickling down.

“Next one, I’m aiming to kill. Do your best now. I wouldn’t want to explain to my little girl, why her newly-wedded bride was too weak.”

Raven performed a flurry of blows that encompassed a range wider than the length of her blade. Neo parried what she could, but the sheer speed and accuracy of her opponent knocked her back with each step. She was blinking the color of her eyes, when Raven disappeared through a quickly-opened portal.

She’s right.

I have to use it.

Raven appeared just to Neo’s left, midway through another Iaido-draw. The swordswoman made a vicious, horizontal slash. The motion mimicked an artisan’s practiced pen stroke. Less than a figure of a sword, it became the imitation of a paintbrush.

Neo brought her parasol up in time to block it. In her irises, glinted a pale silver.

“About time you got serious. But what happened to the evasiveness you’re so specialized in?”

Neo could only glare back in frustration.

“Well, at least we’re finally taking steps in the right direction. I hope you’re ready, brat. I’m going to pound the training in you that took Summer years to learn.”

Without waiting another moment, Raven dashed at Neo again. While the petite girl tried to predict her opponent’s motions, something eerie played across her senses. Something abnormal-no, impossible unfolded before her enhanced vision.

Two arcs of Raven’s katana split the air. One cut downward, while the other tore in its opposite. Rather than consecutive strikes, it appeared that two afterimages of Raven diverged at once. The result being, Neo’s mirror clone being cut open by a narrow X.

“Your usual tricks have limits, Blake and Adam should have already shown you that.”

The petite girl was still blinking her eyes repeatedly in disbelief. Her brain worked desperately to figure exactly what was the feat she just witnessed.

“You’re wondering how I did that?” Raven lorded over the girl’s confusion with a deadly smile.

…You attacked twice at the same time.

Not fast.

At the same time.

How?

“You and Yang aren’t the only ones who’ve ever exchanged Auras, you know. I have my own gift from Summer.”

The Never Realm?

“Sorry, but there’s no point in explaining it. It’s better to just experience it yourself. Don’t worry, though. By the time I’m through with you, you should be able to do something similar.”

Raven sunk into her stance once more.

“Try not to die, before then.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

In the dense vegetation of the Grimm’s Black Oasis, Salem hummed a gentle tune to the sleeping creature above.

Connected between two great cliffs like a bridge, was a colossal cocoon. Its outer shell was crusted in the bone so closely associated with the Grimm, while the sinew holding it up was a viscous black. At the center of its mass, a dark-orange orb could be seen pulsating.

“Magic wand, make my monster grow~♪”

Salem let out a small laugh at the end.

“Just kidding.”

*Ahem* “Salem?”

The Witch turned around with a feigned smile of surprise.

“Bean. What can I do for you?”

Standing there with a slight uncomfortableness was Bean and his partner, Inna.

“Yes. Report update on army’s status. Everyone is ready. Continuing to maintain standby on your orders.”

“Good. I thank you for your exceptional work.”

“…”

“…”

Salem smiled pleasantly, while slightly titling her head.

“Is there something on your mind, Bean?”

“I…” he paused. “We wonder the reason why our host delays making another siege attempt on Vacuo. Are we awaiting the birth of that Grimm?”

The three looked to the massive cocoon hanging from the sky.

“No,” Salem answered. “She will awaken when the time is right. Have no worries, Bean. We will march on Vacuo very soon.”

“And what time will that be?”

The Witch gave a sharp stare at him from the side. It made the boy gulp under the pressure.

“Wish to know estimated time for our attack,” he resumed. “Optimum conditions, crucial—dictated by various war doctrines. Atlesian Fleet due to arrive. Attacking Vacuo before reinforcements arrive, ideal.”

“Ah,” Salem’s expression softened with understanding. “You make a very capable general. Rest assured, our attack will commence before Atlas has chance to interfere. As to the exact moment of our battle, I cannot say for sure.”

“…”

“Believe in the assignment entrusted to you. Command our forces when the time comes. That will be well enough. Leave it to me to set the stage of our victory.”

“…”

Bean continued to stare down at his feet sheepishly.

“Is there another matter that bears discussion?” Salem asked.

“We’re not used to bein’ kept outta the loop like this,” Inna answered for her partner. “We usually have at least a rough timeline to work with.”

“I see. I can certainly empathize with your dissatisfaction. But it is times like these one must, ‘keep one’s cards close to the chest’. Even if the chances are unlikely, I’d like to keep my intentions from being discovered as sure as possible. Where is Raven, by the way?”

“She’s…” Inna stopped herself.

“Oh, do not fret. I’m quite aware of her frequent visits home.”

Both Inna and Bean froze stiff.

“She is allowed to assist Temujin as much as she likes, but she cannot stand against me. There are strict stipulations of such regarded in our contract.”

More silence pervaded the other two, which caused Salem to relent just a little.

“Oh, to be young and restless. For you children, I know the initiative is something to be seized and acted upon at first sign. To make the first move is to assure certain victory.” The Witch chuckled lightly. “Believe me, I have seized the first move since before any of you were born. This is planned patience, not idle waiting, my children. There is a purpose in all of it, predetermined ahead of time.”

“So… you are aware of Vacuo’s next course of action?”

“Oh, yes. In one form or another. Either they will continue to minimize the amount the Cuckoos sap away at their strength, or drastic measures will be taken.”

“And, then?”

“We shall commence our siege,” Salem answered simply. “Regardless of what Vacuo intends to do—”

“Heads, I win. Tails, they lose.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Are we dead?” Yang asked, breaking the silence between her teammates.

“The last thing I remember is Temujin killing me for the eightieth time,” Mercury shrugged. “Dying and getting resuscitated so many times—maybe, I’m finally experiencing permanent brain damage.”

“More or less the same on my end. Without the Maiden’s inheritance, I would’ve been pushing daises after my second round with Nai.”

As the two conversed in their dreamlike state, Emerald stayed silent. Her attention was taken away by their immediate surroundings.

They stood on the massive roots of what appeared to be an enormous tree. Its girth was too large to fathom, but at the same time, they were granted a certain insight. The Never Realm broadened their senses to an unnatural degree, and even gave them hints to where they currently resided.

“So, this is the Tree of Balance,” Emerald muttered, while touching the tree’s trunk.

She could feel the opposite elements at war. A violent flux of light and dark transmuted from the surface to her touch. It stirred something within her.

The girl then, remembered a distinct part of Temujin’s memories.

My body and soul sunk into the deepest depths. I don’t know what it was, but I swear, to this day—I grasped something at the core of our world. Some form of enlightenment, perhaps?

Emerald had to rip her hand away in order to stop herself from getting caught in the Tree’s grasp. It was only then, she noticed little roots and branches twined around her body. They only receded when she mentally rejected their embrace.

Did they all experience this?

Emerald’s thoughts went to Nai, Minerva, Raven, and finally, Temujin.

I wouldn’t be surprised if the old lady made her Khans go through the same thing she did.

“This is totally a dream, right?” Yang asked the question that was on all their minds. “We won’t remember, when we wake up?”

“I’m getting a headache,” Mercury added.

“It probably has something to do with Vacuo.”

“What, like this place isn’t harsh enough, it’s the place where dreams are shitty, too?”

“I mean, think about it. Besides the mines in Atlas, Vacuo has the highest concentration of Dust and Bane in all of Remnant. And let’s not forget the Grimm are practically a different breed here.”

“…I get it,” Emerald muttered. “This place is probably really close to both the Never Realm and the Tree of Balance. But, why would—” she paused at a realization, and touched the base of the trunk again.

Memories flowed into her, ancient stories of times long forgotten. Enormous creatures waging endless battle against Fairies. And then, a meteor shower that laid waste to both armies.

“Fragments of the moon are embedded here. Vacuo used to be a base for Titan’s army, before the Witch dropped Oberon’s world on top of it. Ground zero.”

Yang pressed her palm against the tree, as well. She viewed the same recollections Emerald was having.

In the whirling flux of the Cataclysm, a spark created between the frictions of two warring elements. From the ruin, an existence stepped out from the ashes. It had two feet and stood upright. Within it, shined a substance of boundless potential.

“The first soul was born in Vacuo,” Yang said with a reverent tone. The moment carved an impression on her that would not fade upon waking.

Her eyes opened and widened at the sight unfolding around her. Threads of light coursed the “sky”. An immeasurable amount of energy flowed in their environment. Life surrounded them.

“The birthplace of Aura…” she awed.

“It explains a lot,” Emerald commented.

“Huh.” Was the only thing Mercury managed to say.

“Oh, come on,” Yang exasperated. “I know history usually puts you to sleep, but you’re saying this is not just a little bit cool?”

“No, I’m wondering where Neo is.”

“…”

“…”

Yang and Emerald glanced at each other.

““Huh.””

…

…

…

“WAAAHHHH~!!! YOU’RE SO CUTE!!!”

Neo, who currently resided on a different side of the Tree’s roots, was being hugged tightly by a mysterious stranger.

“I can’t believe I have another cute daughter~♪!” the woman’s voice rung excitedly. “Seriously! Raven could’ve gone easier with her teaching. But I can’t blame her, I guess. Everything she learned was taught by Temujin and Athos. And they weren’t the most gentlest of teachers either. You might have to just forgive her for that. Ehehe…”

If any other person had done such a thing on their first meeting, Neo would have stabbed them without hesitation. But being embraced so tightly with such transparent affection threw her off. There was an overwhelming calm to the strange woman, who was only slightly taller than Neo. She found the smell of the stranger’s scent very mellowing. The pitch of her voice pleasant.

“…?”

“Who am I? Oh! Yeah, I guess I should’ve started with that,” the woman released her with a soft cough of composure. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Neo. I’m Summer Rose, Yang and Ruby’s mother.”

Neo’s lips pursed with uncertainty.

“I’m not like Raven, I promise! I’m really happy for you and Yang! You’re both really cute together!”

“…?!”

“Yeah! You have my approval! Yup! One hundred percent!”

Mommy!

Neo threw herself into Summer’s embrace once more.

“There, there. Ahaha~ Awww, it’s too bad you won’t remember much after this. Just means I have to give you my blessings in person, when we finally meet.”

“…?”

“But, enough of that,” Summer separated Neo from herself, and moved back a few steps. “There isn’t much time, so I’ll give you your wedding present now.”

Neo smiled excitedly.

With a sharp ring, a pair of blinding chakrams appeared from under the woman’s cloak.

“Summer Rose’s Super Special Training Session will now commence!”

Neo’s expression immediately became distraught. Without any communication at all, her face could only read, “worst wedding present ever”.

“Despite how I come off, I’m not actually a really gentle teacher either! Just so you know, in advance!”

“…?!?!?!”

Why are you so fired up about this?!?!

Summer ignored her, and her figure faded into the ether like a ghost.

Only a haughty voice rung from all around Neo.

“PREPARE YOURSELF!!! Convince me you’re worthy of my daughter!!!”

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Write Me a Lullaby Part 27

Summary: Delilah has been writing to her Penpal for almost six years. She doesn't know his real name and she doesn't know what he does for a living. When she's set to meet him, she's surprised to find out she's been falling in love with Sebastian Stan

Chapter Summary: Luca meets his baby sister for the very first time. Sebastian is sick of the hospital. 

Warnings: Hospitals, fluff, fluff, and more fluff, a little sexual reference at the very end. 

           Luca walked into the hospital room with my doctor. She smiled warmly and let him run up to Sebastian.

           “He’s so big.” My doctor sighed. “It feels like just yesterday we were swaddling him up and handing him to you.” She touched my shoulder.

           “I know.” I felt a wave of nostalgia. “Well, I think we’re stopping at two.” I decided and picked Anamaria up out of her bassinette.

           “That might be a good idea.” She agreed. “Your pregnancies tend to be high risk. The more children you have, the more dangerous it can get.”

           “Well, we’ve got the set now. A boy and a girl.” Sebastian scooped Luca into his arms. “Ready to meet your sister?”

           Luca looked over at the bundle and wrinkled his nose. “No.”

           I laughed a little. “Luca, baby, that’s not very nice. She’s been waiting all this time to meet you.”

           “I don’t wanna.” He buried his face in Sebastian’s neck.

           “Luc, she’s not going away, might as well meet her now.” He chuckled. But our son didn’t budge.

           “Let him warm up to her. Most siblings are a little nervous when it comes to meeting their baby brother or sister.” My doctor assured me. “How are you feeling?”

           “Good, just tired. I feel a lot weaker than after Luca.” I winced as I tried to sit up.

           Sebastian set Luca down and helped me. “How much longer will she have to stay?” He asked. I could tell he was getting sick of the hospital. He just wanted to be home with me, Luca, and our newest addition.

           “Let’s see how the rest of this day goes and assess from there.” My doctor said.

           I nodded. “Thank you,” I said and she left the room.

           Luca wandered around the hospital room, trying to touch things but Sebastian guiding him away.

           “Buddy, you can’t touch any of the machines, they’re helping mama.” He pulled Luca away from the heart rate monitor for the third time.

           “But I wanna see it!” Luca started to whine and stomped his feet.

           “Luca, no.” Sebastian knelt down to scold him. “Other people are trying to sleep in the hospital so we need to have quiet voices.” He hushed.

           “I don’t wanna be here!” He started to cry and flailed his hands.

           “Hey, I’m going to have bunica come and pick you up very soon if you don’t behave.” My husband made sure our son was looking him in the eyes. “You’ll have to go home and you won’t be able to see your baby sister until tomorrow.”

           Luca scrunched up his face in a big pout and started making noises, which I liked to describe as a muffled racecar engine.

           It was always hard to take him seriously when he was making growling noises with his lips tightly pursed. But Sebastian wasn’t laughing like he usually was.

           “Luca Christopher Stan, I’m going to count to three. You better cut out this behavior or you’re going home.”

           Luca glared at him and continued his noises.

           “One…”

           The racecar noises faltered a little but Luca crossed his arms over his chest.

           “Two…”

           Plan two formed in Luca’s head and he ran to me with tears in his eyes. “Mommy!” He cried.

           Sebastian sighed and stood up. “Luca…”

           “It’s okay,” I assured him. “Baby, you need to start behaving or you’re going to have to go home,” I said and stroked his hair back. “So please go sit in that chair for a minute. Daddy will come over with Anamaria if you’re being good.”

           Luca sniffled but it seemed to do the trick. He walked over and climbed up into the soft armchair in the corner of the room.

           Sebastian walked over to me with an exhausted look on his face. “I hate this hospital.” He grumbled.

           “I know.” I reached up with my free hand to touch his cheek. “We’ll be home soon though.” I kissed his forehead. “I put one of Luca’s favorite books in my bag. Why don’t you go read to them?”

           He sighed and smiled. “You’re the best mother.” He murmured.

           “And you’re the best father.” I let him take Anamaria.

           “Alright, are we all out of the grumpies?” Sebastian asked and walked over to the chair.

           Luca wiped his nose and nodded.

           “Good. Let’s read to Anamaria then. She hasn’t had story time yet.” Sebastian got them situated so Luca was sitting on his lap, holding the book open. Sebastian held Anamaria and wrapped an arm around Luca too. “Okay, Luca, this is your baby sister. Anamaria, this is your older brother.”

           Luca peered into the swaddle and studied her face. “Hi.” He said quietly.

           Sebastian smiled and kissed Luca’s hair. “Look at that, we’re all getting along. Now, let’s get this story on the road. Once upon a time…”

-----------

           “Ready?” I whispered and slowly opened the door for Luca, Anamaria, and Rocket. Luca was six and Anamaria was just shy of turning two. “Go get him.” I unleashed the wild kids.  

           They ran into our bedroom and scrambled up onto the bed where Sebastian was still fast asleep.

           “Daddy!” They both shouted as they started jumping on the bed. Rocket got to Sebastian’s face and started to lick him.

           My husband groaned and reached for a pillow to shield himself from the slobbery kisses. “Oh, boy…it’s father’s day already?”

           I laughed and turned off the video and saved it to post later. I walked over to the bed and helped Anamaria down. “Go get daddy his presents,” I said and shooed Rocket away.

           Sebastian set the pillow aside and looked up at me. “You know, it gets better every year.” He sighed.

           “Well, it’ll probably get worse once they start getting bigger.” I giggled and leaned down to peck his cheek.

           “Oh trust me, Luca’s getting up there. This year I thought we were in the middle of an earthquake before they started yelling.”

           “You love it.”

           “Well, it makes me feel like I deserve the presents.” He grinned and brought me closer to kiss him properly.

           “Ew!” Luca and Anamaria returned to find us kissing. “Gross!”

           I laughed and pulled away. “Ew, Sebby, don’t kiss me, that’s gross!” I accused. “Boys have cooties.”

           “Nu-uh! Girls have cooties!” Luca yelled and launched himself back on the bed.

           “That’s right. Girls have cooties.” Sebastian stuck his tongue out at me and cuddled Luca close.

           “Oh well, I guess when I make breakfast in bed it’s going to have a heap of cooties in it.” I sighed and went back to the kitchen.

--------------

           When I returned with the traditional father’s day breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes, strawberries, bacon, and lots of syrup, Luca and Anamaria were talking to Sebastian about their gifts.

           “That’s Rocket, and that’s me, and that’s Luca, and that’s you and mommy. You two are on the moon because I built a rocket and flew you guys up to the moon.” Luca pointed to the drawings on his card.

           Sebastian laughed and nodded. “Awesome, mom and dad have a summer home on the moon?”

           “With a pool!”

           “Sounds fun.” I got cuddled up in the nest of pillows and blankets. I set the tray of food down and handed out napkins first. Usually, post-father’s-day-breakfast meant a whole lot of washing chocolate and syrup stains out of the bedspread. But it was worth it.

           “Mine, mine!” Anamaria shoved a small, wrapped gift towards Sebastian. She gave him a toothy smile.

           “What’s this?” He unwrapped the rock that she had found on a trip to the park. She’d taken a few sharpies and scribbled on a little masterpiece. “Wow! Is this an original Anamaria Stan work?” Sebastian gasped. “Look at the colors, I’ve got to say, baby girl, this is one of the best ones yet.” He kissed her cheek as he reached over to set the rock down on his nightstand. There was already a growing pile of rocks that she had found for him.

           Anamaria grinned and hugged him tightly. Luca reached for his present. “We made this in class.” He said and gave it to Sebastian.

           “Wow, buddy, look at this!” He pulled the small pin that read ‘Best Dad Ever’ in Luca’s scrawling penmanship. “I think I’m going to have to wear this to my next event.” And he would. In fact, he would wear it to many events and always kept it safe with his cufflinks and tie clips. The Internet went into a little bit of a frenzy when they found out Luca had made it for Sebastian.

           Luca beamed proudly. “I used your favorite colors.” He said. “And I learned how to write a big B instead of a little B.”

           “It looks great, buddy, thank you so much.” He hugged him tightly and kissed his forehead.  

           “Mom’s turn?” I raised an eyebrow.

           Sebastian grinned. “Sure.”

           I pulled out a box and a sappy card I’d spent a few days writing. Holidays were always a good time to reflect on how much I loved him.

           Sebastian opened the box after reading the card. Inside was a small photo album he could take with him when he was traveling. It was full of pictures dating back from when we first met to just a few weeks before when Luca turned six. Underneath was an all black tie.

           He looked a little curious. “For a special occasion?” He asked.

           “We’ll talk about it later.” I nodded innocently. “Why don’t you guys go get daddy’s coffee on the kitchen counter.” I’d purposefully left it there so I could have a second to explain my gift.

           Eagerly, Luca, Anamaria, and Rocket all ran to the kitchen. I leaned over to kiss Sebastian softly.

           “Alright, let me know what it’s about.” He murmured when I pulled away.

           “It’s just a little prop for tonight.” I shrugged and batted my eyelashes.

           “Tonight?” He raised an eyebrow.

           “I may or may not have gotten Chris to babysit for tonight.”

           Sebastian groaned. “Oh hell yes.” He smirked. “I think I’m catching your drift now.” He murmured and kissed me again.

(Headcanon: Luca doesn’t actually have a middle name. But since both Chris and Anthony are his godparents, Sebastian interchanges their names to sound more serious. Luca Christopher Stan or Luca Anthony Stan. It’s a dark day when he uses both names. LUCA ANTHONY CHRISTOPHER STAN) 

Masterpost

[sugarsnap-caely]

Das Gebrochen Arzt (The Broken Doctor): Chapter 2

Schneep clipped the name tag onto his white doctor’s coat as he walked towards the hospital. He nodded his head to a co-worker who was walking in, giving a friendly good morning. When he opened the doors he took in the familiar scent of antibiotics, bleach, and medicine. He picked up his clipboard as he walked through the door to the lounge.

He smiled at his fellow co-workers, some were familiar but he did not really know them on a personal level. However, as he walked past a group of students he spotted Suzi.

Suzi was a good friend of his, someone he could have a cup of coffee with and chat about life.

“Hello Suzi,” He said as he walked up to her.

“Hello Henrik,” she gave him a bright smile, “how was your day off?”

“Good, it vas very good! I got to spend some quality time vis my daughter. How vere your students yesterday?”

“They were fine, one of them kept messing around though so I called him out on it.” She chuckled, “After that he didn't make any smartass remarks again.”

He snickered, “You have alvays been good at srowing people’s bullshit back in zeir faces.”

She gave him a friendly shove on his shoulder, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

They both smiled at each other as she walked away to work on a patient. His first patient’s appointment was not scheduled to start for a few minutes so he decided to kill some time in the lounge. As he walked towards the coffee machine though he spotted a man who was leaning against the counter, talking to a few female co-workers. It was Jeff.

He didn't like Jeff. Jeff was an asshole. But everyone has to deal with assholes so he learned to work with him. Most of the time.

“Oh hey Schnipplestin, looks like you're back.”

He gave a sigh, “I vas only gone a day, and for zee last time it is Scheeplestein…Jiff.”

“Well, as I was just telling these lovely ladies here, I happened to save a child’s life yesterday…”

Schneep looked at the girls, they did not look like they were interested in what he was saying, as anyone with any sense would of course. He turned back to Jeff, and gave him a very deadpan look, “It’s our job to save people, Jeff.” With that he walked away, scratching at his neck.

He walked into the room, and smiled at a girl sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, swinging her legs.

“Hello zere Abigail, how are you today?”

She spoke in a soft voice, “I’m good.”

“And how is your dad doing?”

“Come on man, you saw me only yesterday…” Nearby, sitting in a chair, was Chase.

Schneep chuckled, “I know, I know.”

Chase’s daughter had her tonsils taken out a little over a week ago, and thus needed a check up.

“Let us see how your sroat is doing, alright?”

Abigail nodded, continuing to swing her legs.

He grabbed one of the medical flashlights from the wall, “Open vide please.” He shined the flashlight down her throat, looking for any signs of bleeding or further infection.

“So, how is Marshall doing?” He asked Chase.

“Oh he's doing great, he's at the park with Stacy right now.”

“Zat is great, has Abigail been eating soft foods like I instructed? No acidic-drinks?”

“Yes, Stacy told me that she has been.”

“Zat is excellent. And it appears zat everysing is normal.” As he stepped over to the computer, he suddenly felt very tired.

He stumbled, catching himself on the table. He felt dizzy…

Chase quickly got up from the chair and rushed over to Schneep, “Are you ok?!”

Schneep sat down in the chair, and put his head between his legs. “Yes…yeah I sink so. I must have had my knees locked.”

“Are you sure you're ok?” Chase sat back down in his chair, his voice laced with concern.

Schneep gave small laugh, “I am a doctah Chase…of course I know if I am alright or not.”

He carefully sat back up, rubbing at his eyes before turning to the computer to record Abigail’s results.

He walked down the hall towards the surgery room, talking to the patient as he went. “Now, zere is no need to be vorried, ganglion cyst surgery is not life sreatening. Is zere any music zat you vould like to listen to vhen vee give you zee anesthetic?”

The boy, who was roughly 19 to 20 years old, nodded his head, “Yeah…I umm…I enjoy piano music.”

Schneep smiled, “As do I.”

As they entered the room Schneep nodded to Suzi and merely glanced at Jeff.

They instructed the patient to breathe as the music was put on and his anesthetic was administered.

Once the patient was asleep they got to work. Henrik picked up the scalpel as he made the incision that was marked on the patient’s ankle around the cyst.

Whenever he worked he always managed to get into a groove of some sort. He was always careful and methodical. Sometimes he might even tune out everyone else.

He was starting to pull out the cyst and get to the “root” of it when he heard Suzi’s voice. It sounded…alarmed.

He shook his head as he came back to reality, “Vhat vas zat?”

“Henrik, your nose!”

He was confused until a metallic taste met his tongue, “Oh my god!” He quickly backed up from the patient.

“You have to go, now, don't worry I can take it from here!”

“Sank you Suzi!” He replied as he took off his gloves and mask and left the room to take care of his bleeding nose.

He felt dizzy again as he leaned against the sink in the bathroom. How on earth did he get a nosebleed? The humidity was constantly monitored all over the hospital. God, what if it affected the patient? This was their first surgery and the poor guy had been nervous. Henrik wasn't a psychologist but he didn't want to think of the consequences that any complications with the surgery would have on the patient’s psyche. He looked in the mirror as he took the tissue out of his nose. Well, the good news was the bleeding had finally stopped.

When he walked out of the bathroom he saw Suzi and Jeff down the hall.

“Are you ok?” Suzi inquired, turning towards him.

“Yes, but more importantly is zee patient ok?”

“Yes, yes he's alright. We got the cyst out and he’s being taken back to his room.

He gave a sigh of relief, he would never forgive himself if he had caused a patient harm.

“We should have someone take a look at zee monitor for humidity. Vee do not need anymore incidents like zis.”

“I know, I notified someone and they are getting on that.”

There was a scoff from Jeff, “Maybe you should be more careful.”

Schneep slowly turned to him and frowned, “And maybe you should go and jump off a roof…”

They both stared at him in shock, he had never said anything like that before.

Or had he?

He couldn’t remember, but all he could think of was being at Jack’s place. He was recording a video, pretending to operate on his accountant and…

He couldn't remember.

He couldn't remember.

He couldn't remember.

He shut his eyes, and pressed his fingers to his temples, “I…I need a cup of coffee.”

He walked down the hall to the lounge, he didn't have another patient for a few minutes anyway.

When he stumbled through the doorway to the house he was exhausted. This was normal when he got off of work but something felt off. He still didn't like the way he had told Jeff to go and die. He didn't like him but still…

Robbie stumbled up to him, “Robbie is greeting Schneep…”

Henrik gave him a tired smile, “Hello Robbie…”

The zombie wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him into a hug. Schneep returned the hug, patting him on the back. He didn't realize how much he needed this. “Sank you…”

“It is no problem for Robbie.” The zombie smiled, his milky white eyes practically glowing like the moon. The two of them let go of each other and Robbie trundled off towards the kitchen to probably grab a snack. Henrik decided that he would relax so he sat on the couch and decided to watch something on Netflix.

Eventually, Robbie left the kitchen with some ham and lumbered off to his room leaving Schneep alone. He loved the little family that he had but he did enjoy some time to himself every so often. It was quiet, and allowed him to clear his mind.

He flicked through various shows and movies deciding on what to watch. As he clicked the remote to the right the screen got stuck. Confused, he continued to press the right button. The image on the screen rocketed to the right, as it glitched. Suddenly, the lights flickered for a few minutes.

A unanimous call was heard throughout the house, “Marvin!!”

It was replied with another distant yell, “It wasn't me!!”

Schneep looked left and then right hoping no one would see him on the tv. That was enough television for the night. He shut off the television deciding that he should probably head to sleep. He felt he needed a better night's rest anyway.

And there we have it folks, chapter 2! I apologize for this taking so long to get out there, but here it is now!! ^^

Chapter 1

Totally Legit Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

[shadyvoidhologram]

This reminds me of something that happened yesterday.

I was chilling in community servers (bc i'm not paying like 400 pesos to be able to speak in a videogame when we have to buy food and pay the bills thank-you-very-much) and i entered this hightower server with maybe 5 or 6 people in it. Most of them were doing the usual, ignoring the objective and just killing each other (scouts) or rocket/sticky jumping everywhere. Just people having a good time.

I said most people but two kids. One of them was alright i guess, he just kept trashing other players via chat when he was killed, but the other, god help me i could almost feel my ovaries close themselves permanently. (this last one must have been like 12 or 13 i think?)

The problem wasn't that he was a sticky spammer (he was a scout first but changed to demo when most people got tired of him) he was actually pretty good, he had good aim and tracking, (i learned a thing or two from him ngl) no... he was REALLY annoying and entitled-like via both chat AND voice chat.

I wasnt that bothered, i'm used to those types of kids since i've been like a free babysitter for my family's friends, and when i tried to talk to him he didn't listen, so i ignored him and focused on getting better at "close range combats".

But I've played Bioshock,TLOU and Dishonored, so when i saw that brat Dominated and started trash talking a little boy in MY team (he shoulda been like what,7? i swear he was lovely, he sounded really sweet) and making him upset, i put on my "Proud Dad" glasses and hat and helped my child to get revenge on the brat. I was sad when i had to go moments later, but to hear my boy giggling and planning strategies with the new people who entered the match put a smile in my face for the rest of the day. I also enjoyed hearing the other kid getting exasperated and call us cheaters.

No sweetheart, it's called teamwork. And your team didn't want to help you for how you acted and called BS on your attempt to kick us out.

So, moral of the story? Have fun and don't be an asshole, the fact that you're good in something doesn't give you the right to shit on other people. Have a nice day.

It’s hilarious to me how the tryhards in TF2 go off about me being absolute ass at the game for an insult as if I don’t know already. Buddy, you think I play this because I’m good? Nah, I’m here to muck about, have a good time, and maybe conga

[harmonicegg-blog]

Gail’s journey from the Light Box to Harmonic Egg

Light Box to Harmonic Egg

Many have asked what the light box / Harmonic Egg has done for me and how I came to open my own center.

I first saw the light box in October, 2001. Now that I am here and we have been open almost 9 years I can look back and see how the journey unfolded and why timing is everything and this moment in time is exactly perfect! I started using the light box in January 2007. I really didn’t think I had any health problems and all the things I was dealing with were normal or I was just born with it.  I do not have asthma anymore (had it since birth), my eyesight has improved and I no longer need to wear glasses (started wearing glasses at age 19), my digestive system works better, my hair is not falling out, my TMJ is gone, my cystic acne has all but cleared (thank God since I am 48!), no more insomnia (and I can breathe through my nose now), my broken left ankle (from 2006) and the torn ligaments (from 1996) in the right ankle no longer cause me pain when the weather changes or when I kneel and sit and I have more flexibility in both of them, my migraines of 23 years have been gone now for 5 years AND maybe it’s in my genes but I do not look my age at all…some have claimed there is an anti-aging component to the technology. I continue to use the technology as often as needed.  Each time I emerge with more clarity of mind, more focus, heightened senses, better intuition and feeling in the FLOW…   My Story: In 1997 I left Michigan, where I was raised and worked in Automotive for almost 10 years.  I moved to Texas to build an International consulting firm with a man who was literally a rocket scientist and a genius. He left NASA and started to work as an independent consultant in Telecommunications. He asked me to come to Texas and help him grow the business. We grew it to 26 employees and over $1 million in sales for 3 consecutive years. The mistake: We got married and then divorced and I left him the business and started out on my own. The 5 years we spent together were great and I learned a lot from him. He was into wellness and healing and I took an interest and have been studying advanced wellness for all these years. It was a hobby and way of life for me. I used to think to myself, “how could I make this a J.O.B.”, but thought it was out of reach for me. In 2001 I was in Los Angeles at a conference where I met the inventor of The Light Box. I was intrigued by what I heard from him and followed his progress for many years. I even had the privilege to meet little “David” who you may see in a video testimonial on the Internet.  He had a huge influence in why I am running a center today. When you meet a boy who was sent home from the Mayo Clinic never to walk or talk in his life…and he’s walking and talking, because of The Light Box, you start to wonder how life could be different for more people and how YOU can make a difference in this world with one technology. Admittedly, I was scared and comfy in my executive positions doing what I knew in Corporate America. I think we can all relate about fear of stepping into the unknown. In 2003 I was asked by another business owner (David Stanley, step-brother to the late Elvis Presley) to help him grow his production company. Together he and I brought his story to the big screen. The DVD Protecting the King is available in most video outlets, Netflix, Amazon, etc. That was 7 years of my life! Early January, 2007 was my first trip to Cottonwood, AZ to receive sessions in The Light Box. I was soooo excited after all I had heard and seen and I was going to actually be able to experience it myself. I went there with David Stanley. He and I stayed for 3 days to get the 4 sessions. This is what I actually sent to all my curious friends in January, 2007. Don’t ask me why I saved this…it’s truly was in my draft email folder for over 3 years!  What you are about to read was my understanding from a first timer using The Light Box. I read it and laugh at my terminology and how I explained it. Today, I am much more educated on why / how it works and was mentored by the light box inventor, for 7 years!  Plus, studying ancient technologies of healing via sound and light, how music influences our lives and body, studying the anatomy, sacred geometry, learning about Eastern medicine, working with doctors and other healers and having them as clients at the center.  I am blessed! “Hi there everyone! You all wanted to know about my experience in the light box. I just finished my sessions here in Cottonwood, AZ. It was fantastic. What they have told me is that healing happens for 4-6 weeks. The very hard part is drinking 128 oz. of water for the next 21 days. Apparently, the cells are healing and releasing toxins into the body and water is the only way to flush everything out. Normally you are supposed to drink about 64 oz per day. That’s easy, 128 is hard. We had a total of 4, 1-hour sessions… My first hour session in the light box  – entering a wood box on a pedestal with a mat / bed (somewhat like a coffin with more space – yikes!). There is a light overhead, rainbow painted in an insert the shape of a hexagon. There are six mirrors that reflect the bulb in each of them. They do not flash. The mattress seemed to have speakers underneath it and the music vibrated throughout your entire body.  You are lying on your back with your hands (palms down) by your side. The theory behind it was the stimulate the nerves in the spine, finger tips, etc. My experience was my legs and arms kept twitching and jumping (involuntarily) and my back twitched and it felt like a wave of something down my spine. I was told it was energy blocks clearing. OK, cool !!! I am sure I needed that. David was told he was in the top 10% of patients that detoxed the most. They can tell this by the smell in your room after 1-hour in the box. The technician came in and had to get the director because she could not believe how strong the metal smell was in the room. He smelled as if he was rolling around in coins the rest of the day. Yuck!! Apparently, he was toxic and the vessel allowed the metal toxicity to come out. After the sessions we felt light-headed and both had slight headaches (which went away after downing a bunch of water). The rule is NO energy work, massages, etc. AND no working out for about 2 weeks. Supposedly to let your system settle into itself. As stated above, the cells will continue to heal for 4-6 weeks. They do suggest coming back in 3-4 weeks for another block of sessions. Second day, morning visit was different music and I was restless and not ready to relax so early in the day. I had a slight headache and dizziness afterwards. Afternoon visit was interesting as I had some energy blocked in my left leg that twitched and jumped about every 5 minutes. It was strange. I do feel like I have lost weight from the sessions or all the water – not sure which one. Apparently, the body works pretty hard to heal the cells so weight loss is not uncommon. David – well he was just plain worn out from the sessions on day 2. Last day…the music was different again and seemed to concentrate on my lower body for the first 15-20 minutes. It worked up to the whole body after that. Not sure how / why that is. I asked a lot of questions, but I didn’t ask ALL my questions. 😉 We left for the airport in Phoenix right after the session. Today is the morning after and I woke up feeling like I was hit by a MAC truck. Wow, this takes a lot out of you. I got up drank 25 oz of water and I felt great. The words to describe the difference in the way I feel are solid, clear, balanced and positive. I am a bit of a skeptic, but it seems that the box really does something, or it could be the couple days of rest and ALL the water. All joking aside, there was something about it that was magical and it did something. Well, those are my notes from the trip and experience. I plan to have more sessions in the near future (probably late March). AZ is WONDERFUL (and it’s where it all began), but the Phoenix airport is not very user friendly…those that have been there know what I am talking about. Let me know if you have any questions. Much love to everyone, Gail” It’s absolutely hysterical to read this again. I remember it like it was yesterday. I don’t know why I saved this email for so many years. I guess I thought I might need it someday! My friends that I sent this to asked me to send another follow up in a few weeks. This is what I sent out late January. “So, since I have been home – there have been no cravings for sugar / chocolate and food seems to taste different. Colors are more vivid and I am more aware of my surroundings. I have an inner peace that is just incredible and I have even noticed people in stores are treating me different, friendlier. Don’t know how to explain it – maybe it’s the 128 oz. of water… I just seem to be more balanced and things that would have stressed me out are no big deal.” As Paul Harvey would say, this is the “rest of the story”: In March of 2010 I was working a corporate job (consulting) and commuting back and forth to Dayton, OH every week. I hated it and so many things happened to show me I was not where I needed to be in life or in my career. I won’t go through the list, but the BIGGY was my dog ran away in February, 2010 from the place he was staying in / being babysat in Texas. This was pretty much the last straw. I flew back and forth AND drove back and forth to Texas to look for him for several weeks. I never found him.  It was one of the most devastating events in my life. I have no children and he was the closest thing I had to a child. I loved him so very much and my heart still hurts to think about what may have happened to him.  On the bright side, the Universe took away a 150 pound Great Pyrenees dog and gifted me with a 1,200 amazing horse! In addition, I was fired from the job because I went to look for my dog and left the office.  I was unable to find another job for over a year and that ended with losing my home and having to file bankruptcy.  After a successful career of more than 20 years I was lost and didn’t know what to do.   The box was calling me back to Arizona so I decided to take a 2,500 mile road trip that included a trip to Cottonwood, AZ. I knew when I left the driveway my life would be different when I came back…I just didn’t know how. I have always been a supporter and in 2007 when I first moved to Denver there was a group trying to open a center but they were unable to get the funding so it did not happen. I was disappointed when it didn’t happen and had a desire to open one, but never believed I could actually do it. Upon coming home from the 2,500 mile road trip I ran into a woman I had not seen for a long time and started telling her about my trip to AZ. She said, “why don’t we have one here?” That statement changed my life! It was at that moment I knew what I had to do…this was around April, 2010. I opened Life Center on October 20, 2010. Fast forward to late 2014, the inventor of the light box delivered another version of his technology to Life Center and I can’t exactly tell you all the changes that have taken place in my mind, body and spirit from this new and very different technology.  I can tell you that this technology incorporated a horizontal semi-360-degree resonant chamber that uses sound, light, vibrations and frequencies together in a way to more deeply reinforce the natural healing ability of the human body. This natural healing ability is enhanced because the cells in the body are reset, rebalanced and reprogrammed back to their pure (healthy) energy frequencies. Clients who have now used both the light box and the other technology, have told us that the second version worked faster and increased their healing ability much more. The good news is that Life Center is not just for sick people, it is also for people who want to use it as a preventative maintenance tool in their own health care regime.

Since 2016 we are using the next generation of sound and light technology here at Life Center.  It’s called the Harmonic Egg and it’s a true 360-degree immersive healing experience (in the shape of an egg).  You are in a reclined position (chair) and the sound resonates in it’s holographic-like micro-environment. Instead of hearing the sound from a speaker, you hear it in what I think is its natural broadcast. However, there are speakers in there to give it the ability to do this.

In 2018, we brought in a new Harmonic Egg design to immerse animals / pets with their humans and this has been an amazing creation.  The animals / pets are having profound healing and holding the results.  You can read more on the website under testimonials (https://lifecenter.us).  One of the doctors we work with said this, “animals only know love and if we, as humans, only knew love we could heal as fast as they do.” My life has changed more profoundly since the Harmonic Egg.  I am having more vivid dreams, I am more intuitive, things are flowing even more than they flowed with the box, I am happier, healthier and have noticed more peace and harmony in all aspects of my life. 

In 2019 we created 6 Harmonic Egg Wellness Tracks just for the architecture of the Harmonic Egg.  The Tracks are titled, Boost Immunity, Heavy Metal Detox, Liver Remedy, Reduce Inflammation, Stress Less and Kid’s Sanctuary.   The harmonic immersive programs resonate the body’s energetic system and together with the immersive experience in the egg, create a significant opportunity for transformation and deep healing to occur at the root causal level.  The Harmonic Egg Wellness Tracks are also available to the public for purchase and home use. (http://www.harmonicegg.com). These programs do not “cure” anything. They resonate and “tune” the body and the mind, open the energetic channels and release the body’s vital force, its natural healing energy, creating the opportunity for the body mind to heal itself. Secondarily, the programs bring the energetic into alignment by resonating the body mind with specific key signatures and frequencies. When these are received by the client, their energy, their presence seriously enhances the body’s ability to heal. Third, the immersive experience is a vibrational sound “bath.” This is facilitated through the conscious (intentional) composing and then mixing and mastering process. Our programs surround the client with beautiful harmony and sound, a multidimensional experience that facilitates the body’s natural healing process to the highest level. These notions of creating the conditions for the body mind to “heal itself” is the whole deal….this is the primary intention. I am excited for all of you to experience the greatness of the Life Center and encourage you to browse the website (https://lifecenter.us) to learn more about it. Feel free to contact me with any questions. I am available to serve you in your journey to a healthy YOU.  We are getting more and more interest from people and doctors to purchase the Harmonic Egg.   If you are interested in finding out how to purchase a Harmonic Egg, please contact us at 303-630-9218 or visit http://www.harmonicegg.com. Read the full article

[rellanka]

Yesterday's Trash - slight GOtG: Vol 2 Spoilers

StarkQuill

The Guardians aren't the type to throw away anyone on their team.

It's not what Tony is used to.

Also on AO3

***

Tony grit his teeth as he cast another trinket aside. There wasn’t room for it, not when the small pack he was taking with him back to Earth was already full with souvenirs for the few friends he had left there. He’d picked up the souvenirs in different port towns, here seeing a necklace that he thought Pepper would like, there seeing a trinket that Rhodey would love. Then seeing things for Happy, Vision, Bruce, Stephen, the kid. Things to let them know he had thought of them while he was gone.

He wasn’t going to throw away those items just to bring something along for him. Something to remind him of the good times that he’d had with this team. (With this amazing, fun, incredible team.) The important thing was letting the people that had put up with him for years know that he cared about them.

His own happiness was secondary.

(Besides, he probably wouldn’t be alive very long to enjoy the reminders, anyway.)

He closed the pack laying open on his bed, resigned now to the fact that he wasn’t going to be able to bring anything else with him, before casting his eyes around his room for one last look. It was arranged in a neatly-cluttered type of away, various items from their trips around the galaxy placed in whatever area would fit them. Tony never could resist picking up new gadgets to poke at, and he had a secret weakness to souvenirs aimed at tourists. It didn’t help that space was so interesting, with new things to discover in even the simplest of items. Rhodey had always teased that the only reason that the world didn’t know that Tony Stark was a hoarder was because his properties were big enough to hide it. Now that Tony had a much smaller living space, Rhodey had been proven right; and it was showing. Tony had maybe (almost definitely) gone a bit overboard in purchasing things for himself and the Guardians whenever he had the units to.

Or maybe he had just gotten too comfortable with thinking that he wouldn’t have to leave.

Should’ve known that that wouldn’t have lasted long.

Should’ve known that Tony, being Tony, would eventually screw up enough that the team would realize the mistake they had made in bringing him along.

Tony was yesterday’s trash. With a few exceptions, the only reason that people didn’t tie him up and throw him away was because they still had some form of use for him. With those few exceptions, people generally acted like they didn’t want him around them otherwise.

Tony cursed and slammed a fist sideways against the wall beside his bed before bowing his head to rest against his arm. The Guardians were some of those exceptions. Yeah, they snarked, and they bickered, and they said occasionally cruel things to one another, but… Tony never had reason to truly believe that they didn’t want him around. He had actually felt accepted here. Liked here. And, like always, it was his own fuck ups that had made it end.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck it ALL TO FUCKING HELL!

Tony should have never punched that Sovereign higher up after the guy had managed to corner him alone in the corridor. He knew how fragile the peace between his team and the Sovereign was; Peter had made a point to warn him before the team got there how angry the Sovereign got when disrespected. How the team had just gotten said people to stop trying to kill them. Tony should never have raised his hand to a guy that was apparently even higher up then the woman they had pissed off the first time around.

He should’ve just let the guy fuck him.

Yeah, Tony had promised himself that he would never allow something like that happen to him ever again. And yeah, he knew he would feel filthy and sick and like he wanted to die afterward.

But at least he would’ve gotten to keep his team.

Keep Peter, and whatever they had been building between them for the past eight months that Tony had been with the team.

He knew he couldn’t tell the Guardians about what had happened. They were protective enough that they would have tried to kill the man then and there, still would probably try to kill the man, and that would really cause a shit storm.

Better that they not know the truth and hate him, then know and get themselves killed.

Tony took a deep breath and turned towards the entrance of his room only to freeze at seeing Peter staring back at him.

Peter was the first one to speak, eyes fixed on the pack laying on Tony’s bed, “What the hell are you doing, man?”

“Packing,” Tony smiled with forced cheer, “Figured I’d get ready so that you guys don’t have to wait for me.” He grabbed his pack from the bed and shouldered it, “I just have one request, if it’s not too much: Don’t leave me on Earth. Yeah, I’d really, really like to visit Rhodey and the other’s before the Sovereign cart me off to kill me or whatever, but I don’t want them getting hurt trying to keep me safe. Just, if you wouldn’t mind giving me an hour or so with them and acting like it’s a quick visit before dropping me off on some moon somewhere, I’d really appreciate it.”

As Tony had been speaking, Peter’s body language had closed in on itself more and more, frustration and anger growing openly, some other complex emotions hidden beneath. Tony winced as he saw it and opened his mouth again, not being above begging for the chance to see his friends on Earth one last time. He figured there might be a chance it would work, since frustration seemed to be the prevailing emotion, and not anger.

But Peter cut him off.

“Tony, what the fuck?” Peter nearly shouted as he entered the room to start pacing and gesturing agitatedly, “Drop you off on some moon? To what, face the Sovereign alone and die alone?” Peter turned to face him and searched his face for… something, before turning away to resume pacing at what he found, cursing before demanding, “Are you fucking out of your mind, man? Jesus, Tony, we’re not gonna abandon you just because you made a mistake, especially when we don’t even know why you made it. We’re your team. Even though you’ve apparently got too many fucking issues to see it, we care about you. A lot. We are not going to let you die alone; that is not even a remote possibility. We’re facing this together… or you know, running from the Sovereign until they give up together, whichever comes first.” Peter finished, flopping down on Tony’s bed with an exhausted huff.

Tony blinked, shell-shocked and silent during Peter’s speech, until, “You’re not going to ask me to leave the team?” He didn’t even recognize his own voice, it was so vulnerable and soft. More so then he’d ever allowed it to be in some time.

Peter looked up at him at that, before shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, “Man, the more I manage to figure out about your old team, the less I like it. No, I’m not going to ask you to leave the team. None of us were going to ask you to leave the team. In fact, as of now, until this Sovereign thing is taken care of you’re not allowed to leave the team. Knowing you, you’ll try to fucking martyr yourself and- Nope. Until we know you’ll be safe without us, you’re stuck with us. Deal with it.”

Deal with it?

Tony didn’t know if he knew how to deal with it.

But looking into Peter’s eyes and feeling happier than he’d ever felt on Earth, a happiness that the Guardians had inspired in him more than once…

Tony thought that he wouldn’t mind learning.

***

Of course, the rest of the team didn’t react much better to Tony trying to leave than Peter had. Gamora pinned him to the wall and threatened to kill him herself if he ever tried something like that again, which was somehow sweet and terrifying all at once. Drax said that he would merely pin down Tony’s weak self with his superior bulk until such thoughts left his head, which was also sweet but slightly weird. Rocket just snorted at him before saying, “Damn Stark, I knew that your tech was only a little better than what you’d find in the Stone Age, but I never thought that you were stupid before.” which was practically a declaration of love and devotion in Rocket speech. Groot wrapped a vine around his hand before saying, “I am Groot.” which Tony somehow knew meant that Groot wasn’t letting go until the Sovereign weren’t a threat to Tony any longer. …That was probably going to make Tony’s daily routine interesting if Groot meant it literally like Rocket’s smirk seemed to imply he did.

Kraglin, though, had had one of the most interesting reactions of all, jumping up like Tony’d threatened to skin him alive, before bursting out with, “Are you kidding?! You know how unbearable the Captain’d be if you left considering the feelings he-” He paused while looking at Peter who was off to the side and making cease and desist gestures at him frantically before finishing firmly with, “Not to mention I’m not looking to loose anymore friends anytime soon.” Mantis just looked at him like he had killed an entire litter of puppies in front of him, which left him feeling like he had done a great wrong to the universe, before giving Tony a hug that left him feeling warm and loved.

(Luckily for Tony’s cocky bad-boy image, which was already flustered and nearly torn apart by all the support from his team, Nebula was off the ship while the discovery of Tony’s plan had happened. Unluckily, she came back in time to hear Tony finally break down and tell the team what the Sovereign leader had tried to do. Watching his team react exactly like he’d imagined they would, Tony thanked whatever higher power was nearby that they weren’t anywhere near the Sovereign at the time. His team, who Tony secretly thought of as badass cinnamon rolls most of the time, could be really fucking scary when they were that pissed off. As it was, the transmission that Rocket sent the Sovereign was apparently frightening and scathing enough to shame them into calling off the attack. Which was even luckier, because Tony hadn’t known just how much longer he was going to be able to hold them back from taking the attack straight to the Sovereign’s doorstep.

(But the luckiest part of all of it is that Tony is never made to feel like yesterday’s trash again. His team, and Peter especially, makes sure of it.))

***

A/N: So. Awkward confession time. The first time I saw Guardians, I thought that Rocket said “They didn’t throw [Yondu] away.” during the funeral scene. I really connected to that line, because of personal issues. I have since seen the movie again and realized that the line was actually probably that Yondu hadn’t managed to chase them away. So this fic doesn’t match the movie quite as well as I had thought, but not changing it, because….

Well, the majority of this story was practically me working out my feelings about how the Avengers would sometimes (if not always) treat Tony like trash and how Tony deserved a team that would treat him better and not abandon him when he screwed up. So I’m going to keep it as it is and hope that someone likes it.

Also, yes, I should be working on my WIP, but I am trying to get some work on it done, guys. The problem is that I can’t get a fix on T’Challa’s voice, so I’ve kind of written myself into the corner. It’ll get updated someday, at least. I can promise that. Just not that that time will be soon.