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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 1 year ago

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Cloud City, Chapter Five - a Malevolent AU

Feeling like prey isn’t new, but it is terrible.

AO3 || Masterpost

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Witches obey no officers. They follow no city law. More to the point, no one can make them.

Only women—for whatever value of that word, regardless of biology—can be witches. Their deal is with an Esoteric whose name is never spoken, and it’s very different from being a Contractor. No one’s soul gets eaten. There does not seem to be a Summon. They dedicate themselves to this Lord of the Wood for the rest of their lives, and are bound by unknown rules, but they also never lose body parts.

They have power. A lot of it. On the other hand, they don’t use it to rule anything. They don’t hold office. They don’t have so much as a community bake sale coordinator.

Why? Who knows? Arthur has heard their Esoteric referred to as The Black Goat, and as The Great Mother, but obviously, those are not her name. She’s inaccessible to anyone who is, internally, a man, so he will never know. He’s more concerned about how independent they are, because right now, he needs their help.

Even among witches, Asenath Waite is a whole situation.

They say she’s older than dirt. They say she has more power (and a more direct line to the Mother) than any other witch. They say she was a witch before the Reckoning, when the Esoterics somehow came into reality and freed Earth from the grip of the Fire of Y that held it before.

That’s impossible, of course. How could there be witches before the gods came?

Still. She acts like someone who was here before the world grew safe in cloud and consecration, and Arthur has never gotten along with her.

“You look like you ate a bad pickle,” Parker observes.

Arthur sighs and crushes a bug creating along the door. “Asenath is a bitch.”

“She sure is.” Parker makes a turn.

Arthur is pouting. He knows he’s pouting. He can’t seem to help it. “She’s caused me nothing but trouble.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Really compassionate, there.”

Parker snorts. “You haven’t been too nice to her, either.”

“Nice! I’ve been a gentleman.”

“You called her a bitch to her face.” Parker slows for the next turn. There aren’t a lot of cars in the city; however they were made in the past was lost in the Fire of Y, and there are no new ones. All that still exist are maintained by magick, and Parker drives with caution.

“Well, she was being a bitch,” Arthur says, casually.

Hastur laughs.

She was, though.

They’d met after his daughter’s murder. Met when she’d come on the case, briefly, and given him the most pitying look he’d ever seen in his life, and that look had gotten under his skin like nobody’s business.

He’d tried to hit her. He remembers that. It did not work. He also remembers waking twenty minutes later on the floor, in a puddle of his own spit.

And mere months after that, after he had his Contract and was regularly running into her in the line of work, it all just got tense and difficult. Come to think of it, it mirrored his relationship with Parker in a lot of ways: too much focus, too much intense observation. She challenged everything he said, escalating into arguments. She insisted on verifying his conclusions every damn time, slowing cases down and leaving Arthur feeling tense and untrusted.

But she never pushed the way Parker did. And when he thinks about it, her comments and quips had helped him think harder, work smarter, refine his methods—not just feel bad, which Parker’s had always done.

Confusing as fuck. All of it was confusing as fuck.

This will be fine. I’m glad it’s Asenath. She’s powerful.

“Not you, too,” Arthur mutters. “Ganging up, now?”

“What’s he saying?”

I’m saying you’re being a baby.

“Ugh. Nothing.”

Parker chuckles. “I’d give a lot of money to know what the hell that guy says to you. The faces you make, Arthur.”

Arthur rolls his eyes.

He hears me. She can hear me, too.

Arthur snorts. “Sure, John.”

“What now?”

“He thinks everyone can hear him, all of a sudden. Or maybe they always did, and everybody just lied in a vast conspiracy going back hundreds of years.”

There’s no need for sarcasm.

Parker gives him an odd glance, hands primly at ten and two on the wheel. “What? Maybe whatever hit the jail drove him crazy, too.”

“A crazy Summon? Yikes. Can’t even imagine it.”

“That would be pretty bad,” says Parker, and turns down Asenath’s street.

Witch streets are largely all the same: lined by trees no one can name, free of litter and invaders from the Wastes, clean and smelling of fresh bread and scented soaps and candles.

They also cast weird pillars of shadow into the air like black towers, and Arthur doesn’t know why—though he did dream once that each dark pillar was somehow the leg of a gargantuan goat. The subconscious mind is a funny thing.

Asenath’s brownstone is halfway down on the left, and it is unremarkable. Six steps lead up to her door, each flanked by a small potted plant. The bell looks absolutely ordinary. Arthur is sure it is not at all ordinary. “Do we really have to use Asenath?”

“Your Summon is weird,” says Parker, casually. “If we’re not dealing with the best of witches, I wouldn’t trust what she has to say.”

He has a point. “Fair, I guess," says Arthur, and rings the bell.

It bites his finger.

“Ow! Fuck!” he says, shaking it.

Ha ha ha! Hastur chortles at him.

"Fuck you," Arthur says, just as Asenath answers.

She is tall, Asenath. She never really looks like she remembered to brush her chin-length black hair, or shave her dark beard, or iron her clothes. “Well,” she says, leaning on the door frame, one hand above her head. Her chipped nails are black today; so are her coveralls. “Fancy seeing you again so soon.” And she pauses. “So It’s finally happened. Got hungry, did he?”

Arthur really hates that she’s taller than he is. Lots of people are taller, but Asenath makes him feel it. “Asenath,” says Arthur, trying to keep it calm, trying to ignore the fact that she can clearly see Hastur’s been gaining body parts. “We need help.”

“So he said on the phone. Well, out with it. If I’m going to send you away with your tail between your legs—” She looks him up and down just a pinch too slowly, which is both familiar and annoying—“I might as well give you the full treatment.”

“Fuck, at least hear us out first,” Arthur all but spits.

“Thanks,” says Parker, like none of that was rude, and doffs his hat. “Ma’am. Appreciate you seeing us.”

“Sure.” She sounds unmoved.

“Gods forbid anyone but you have important things to do,” says Arthur before he can help himself.

Ignore him. He’s sore about the particulars of his Contract finally playing out.

And to Arthur’s absolute shock, Asenath answers. “Not playing the game anymore?”

It’s that serious, Daughter of the Wood.

“It better be. You are hardly the type of thing I welcome inside my home. Down the hall. Last door on the left. Wouldn’t advise lingering. I have projects on the fire.”

“What?” says Arthur, shocked.

“What?” says Parker, looking lost.

“She’s talking to my Summon.” Arthur is flummoxed. “She… she’s actually talking to my Summon.”

Asenath rolls her eyes. “If you’re going to panic about every little thing you don’t understand, Arthur Lester—”

“I’m not panicking!” Arthur says, trying (and failing) to recall everything his Summon has ever said in her presence.

“In. Now. Not you.”

It’s Parker’s turn to look shocked. “Why not?”

“You’re neither a vehicle for a Summon, nor particularly shielded against magick. If you came in, you’d hear weird scraping noises like a bow on an unstrung violin, and you’d see colors that make you go mad. Stay on the stoop, Yang. I’ll bring him back out in one piece, don’t you worry.”

“Oh.” Parker looks a little spooked. “Sure.”

“We’ll be just a minute,” Asenath says sweetly, and closes the door in his face. “Better?”

Yes. Thank you.

“Arthur Lester. I said down the hall.” Her tone is warning.

Arthur glares.

She gestures.

Arthur stalks where directed.

It’s a wide hallway with doors on either side. Between the doors hang numerous portraits—landscapes, Hastur has told him, depicting other worlds with startling accuracy. Arthur’s been curious about them before. Right now, he wishes he could set them on fire.

“You weren’t kidding,” says Asenath. “He is in quite a mood. Practically stalking like an angry cat.”

Well. The last day has been difficult, and I have spoiled him.

“Your prerogative, I suppose.”

“Fuck you both. I’m right here,” mutters Arthur.

“You sure are, honey,” says Asenath, and opens the final door.

This bedroom has been converted to a lab. The furniture is gone, replaced with a large wooden frame in the center that looks ready to hold a person and is painted with rusty stains. Tables line the walls; on them rests apparatuses of metal and glass, bubbling things and squeaking things, a pot that seems to be singing to itself, and a small cage in which a mouse sits in the center of a web like a spider.

The mouse eyes Arthur like it’s hungry.

“Uh,” he says.

“Ignore Gertrude. Talk.”

Right. “So… my Summon says that…”

The number has nearly been reached.

“Seventy-eight. I know—but we still haven’t located the vehicle.”

“She knew about this nine-times-nine number already?” Arthur says, and is ignored.

I believe the vehicle has been found—and so does your patron. The Mother decided it was time to send through some tools.

Asenath goes very still. “What? She what?”

I’m afraid the deliverers were killed.

“So that’s what happened to my sisters,” she says softly. “Damn. I suppose our enemy got the tools, too?”

That’s your cue, Arthur. Show her what we received.

“You owe me a lot of answers, John,” Arthur snaps, and opens his bag.

“You’re trying to tell me the Mother would actually send—” Asenath stops.

Arthur is holding the large teardrop.

Asenath does a thing he never would have imagined: she takes a step back. “Are you fucking crazy? Put it back!”

Hastur laughs darkly. Do as she says, Arthur.

Arthur does, frowning. “Why are you afraid of that?”

“Shit. You should not have been fine holding that,” says Asenath, and her eyes narrow. Then she leans in.

Arthur leans back.

“Oh. Oh, dear,” she says.

Witch, Hastur warns.

“This isn’t personal, Arthur Lester,” says Asenath, quite sadly, as if with regret.

And it feels for all the world like a boot kicks him right in the brain.

When he comes to, several things are happening all at once, and they all suck.

One: he’s on his back, and his left hand is around Asenath’s throat.

Two: Asenath is on top of him, and her fingers are pointed right at his eyes so close he can’t even focus on the tips.

Three: Hastur is growling away in some language Arthur has never heard in his life, but sounds like someone dumped an alphabet in the street and then ran it over.

Four: Asenath is very erect, and pressing into his thigh.

Something is stopping Asenath from stabbing his eyes, and it isn’t a physical something. It’s the magick Hastur is casting through him right now. His right hand hurts. His fingers. He runs his thumb along them and discovers three of his new rings have busted.

But… that makes no sense. They’re not attuned to him. They can’t protect him. They shouldn’t have reacted at all to whatever Hastur just did, and—

She’s pushing. Her fingers are closer to his eyes.

Well, Arthur knows what to do here. He tightens his core, does an expert twist and heave, and hurls her over his head with gusto.

Yes, Arthur!

No time for praise. Arthur spins, pushing through dizziness, and pulls out his gun. “What the fuck was that about?” His gun-hand shakes. His everything shakes. Whatever Hastur did drained him, and his breaths are ragged.

Asenath lies there where he threw her, panting and glaring daggers.

“What the fuck, Asenath?” Arthur says again.

She sighs, sits up, and demurely adjusts the crotch of her coveralls. “First of all, I apologize for that. Bodies react to power in weird ways.”

“Go to hell!”

“Second of all, congratulations: you’ve damned us all.”

“What? How?” says Arthur.

No, says Hastur with the kind of strained patience that comes from repeated argument. I can handle this.

“By hand-delivering the vehicle? I knew you were arrogant, but this goes beyond the pale, Hastur.”

“She knows your name?” Arthur blurts and is ignored.

No. Hastur’s growl is terrible, a deep and painful rumble. Arthur isn’t the vehicle. He’s mine.

“He’s housing you, he just handled a glass from Leng without ill effect, and you think he’s not the one they’re after?”

“Okay, so here’s what’s going to happen,” interrupts Arthur, who is beyond done, whose fingers hurt and sport new red lines where the protective rings exploded, who is afraid and confused and angry and absolutely does not like being pushed around. “Either you two chucklefucks tell me what’s going on, or I come to the conclusion that you’re full of shit, this supposed world-ending issue doesn’t exist, and I walk out the door to go play police hostage for the rest of the day. Got it?”

Asenath snorts.

Hastur sighs. Arthur…

“Do you have any control over him at all?” Asenath says dryly.

What I have is an understanding.

“What you have is the perfect vehicle for invasion, and you’re apparently determined to deliver him in gift-wrap and a box.”

Arthur doesn’t bluff. “Right, we’re done.” He heads for the door.

Asenath holds up her hand. “Peace, Arthur Lester. I’ll answer you—if for no other reason than the off-chance you’ll be smarter about this than Hastur.”

Arthur frowns. “How do you know my Summon’s name, first off?”

“Oh, honey. I know a lot more than that.” Asenath stands, clearly unconcerned about his gun or his opinion. “Good throw, by the way. If we all survive this, I might hire you to teach me how to do that.”

He scoffs. “Like you’d ever need to physically fight.”

“You’d be surprised, Arthur Lester. Also… it might be fun.” She cocks her hip, planting her hand on her waist, and she taps her fingers in a pointed way even he can’t miss.

He stares. Either he’s seeing things, or Asenath Waite, premiere witch of Cloud City, is flirting with him after trying to kill him.

“Um,” he said after a moment. “How about we delay talk of hiring and wrestling until I trust you not to try to kill me again? Which is probably never?”

“Oh, relax. I won’t try again. I had one chance to pull it off, but I’ve lost the element of surprise. He’d stop me.”

“He’d stop you?” Arthur swallows. “Hastur could genuinely hold his ground against you? That wasn’t a fluke?”

“In your body, honey? Yes, he could.”

Arthur stares again. “But my body isn’t… I can barely do minor magicks, even with his help.” Except for the police station, which he isn’t ready to think about, and whatever just happened, which he also isn’t ready to think about. “Why would you want me dead?”

“Because you’ll likely be used as a vehicle for a Great Old One sometime in the next month,” she says. “Which is a pity, because I’ve always liked you.”

Arthur made a face at her. “Like hell you have.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Dense!”

I told you.

Arthur was still trying to figure out what she’d said he’d be used for. “A great one? Vehicle? Explain.”

Ah, Arthur…

Asenath leans against the wall, arms crossed. “Has he told you anything? I assumed he had. You’re so cocky it just sort of made sense you were walking around with privileged information. Made me just want to…” She makes a sort of pinching motion he’s not sure he wants to interpret.

“Has everybody gone crazy today?” he mutters.

Asenath sighs dramatically. “Really, Hastur? You left this up to me to explain?”

I enjoy his happiness. None of this will make him happy.

“What?” says Arthur.

She stares. “You’re an ass, Hastur,” says Asenath,

Arthur rubs the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Okay, this is a lot. Let’s try explaining things like you would to a normal person.”

“Honey, you are far from normal,” she says, and walks to the other side of the room, where a green chalk-board hangs on the wall. “You’re a perfect vehicle. Or did you think just anyone could take Hastur inside and not blow the hell up?”

“I… what? He’s a Summon! People make Contracts all the damn time! You’re not making any sense!”

“Right, well. I am about to give you a lesson in how the world actually works, Arthur Lester. Am I allowed to handle chalk? Or is that too scary for you?”

Arthur’s gun-hand is steady again. “Pretty sure I can shoot you before whatever you start finishes working, so sure. Knock yourself out.”

Asenath rolls her eyes, but picks up the chalk. “We’ll start with the basics. This is our universe.” She draws a circle.

“Doesn’t look very big,” says Arthur.

She eyes him. “Is he always just… gumming on the point before spitting it out again, or…”

Hastur chuckles. Give him time. When his wits are about him, he cannot be matched.

Arthur definitely does not feel like he’s matching anything right now. “Thanks, I guess.”

She draws a long, wide rectangle at the bottom of the board. “Here we have the Dark World. That’s where you go when you die, sweetie.”

“What, really?” he blurts.

“Where did you think you went?” she says.

“Hell?” he suggests.

She tilts her head. “What, not Heaven?”

“Sure, if I ever meet anyone who deserves to go there.”

Not even your daughter? says Hastur.

And if he had not said that with sweet curiosity—If he had not wondered it in the way he wondered about all the things in Arthur’s world when they first joined, innocence in deep bass—Arthur would have lost it.

But Hastur wasn’t trying to hurt him with this; it was a real question, non-aggressive. Arthur takes a breath before answering. “I kind of hoped she was reborn. Got a better chance, a second chance, with a better set of parents.”

Asenath looks stricken. “Honey…”

Go on, witch.

She hesitates.

“Go on,” Arthur confirms in a voice like broken glass. “I’m fine.”

She exhales. “As you wish, Arthur Lester. Here.” Her next shape begins at the bottom of the universe circle: a huge, wide ellipse on its narrow end, curving up to the top of the board and sealing the universe off. “This is the Dreamlands.”

“The what?”

“Everything in reality that’s still connected to your universe, but outside it. Other worlds. Other timelines. That sort of thing.”

Arthur’s eyes are wide. “Why is it called the Dreamlands?”

“It literally is formed from the dreams of living things—especially humans.” She scribbles on both sides of the Dreamlands—jagged lines, sharp and violent. “And these places? Are Outer Darkness. These aren’t reality. These are closer to the Dreaming One Who Must Not Be Named, to the places that are not. The beings that exist there—using ‘exist’ loosely, mind—can’t come into our universe, though they sure as fuck want to.”

Arthur is silent for a moment. “The gods who saved us from the Fire of Y?”

“Yes. Gods. And things that are more than gods.”

“More than gods?”

“Much more. Gods are minor league, Arthur Lester.”

Arthur needs to sit down. He needs to sit down very badly, but he doesn’t want to seem weak. “They came here before. Why do they want to come here, and why can’t they again?”

“Good questions. As for why there want to, well! We’re just fascinating. There’s nothing like us out there, in the Dreamlands or anywhere else. They love nothing more than to play with human lives—give us power and see what happens, or siphon off our dreams and memories and experiences to spice up their own. They’ll even take us whole, if they can get us into the Dreamlands alive.”

Feeling like prey isn’t new, but it is terrible. “And what… how does all of this apply to our situation?”

“Well, you have a Contract. That ties directly to here.” She indicates the Dreamlands. “The Outer Gods and Great Old Ones—the beings in Outer Darkness—can’t come here for one simple reason: they’re too big. They’d destroy it just by stepping into the place. Think fat man, silk stocking. Shreds everywhere, irreparable.”

“But they got here before.”

“Once. Reality can’t handle it more than once. They can, however, get to the Dreamlands—that’s plenty big enough—and from there, servants of theirs can come to our world through Contracts.”

“Summons. Spirits.”

“Mmm… that’s not really the best term? But sure. ‘Spirits.’”

Arthur shakes his head. “But I don’t understand. What happened with the Reclamation? The Fire of Y? Because they came and saved us, didn’t they?”

“Oh, hell, we’re getting into the deep stuff now,” says Asenath. “Okay.” She fiddles with the chalk. “So… the whole situation that I’ve described to you here is how it’s always been, with one major exception: there were no Contracts. A few of us were able to… channel those beings who are gods and greater than gods, finding powers in a world without them, but basically? Humans ruled the roost.”

He feels like he’s not understanding words again. “Humans did?”

“They did it with technology,” says Asenath. “The same kind of shit that built your buddy’s car out there. They even had machines that could fly.”

“Get the fuck out.”

“They did, Arthur Lester. I was in some of them.” She sighs. “Those were the days. Ain’t nobody heading to Milan now for polenta and a lovely glass of Brunello di Montalcino, I’ll tell you that.”

He stares at her.

Asenath clears her throat. “The problem is that humans are… bad… at running the world. They nearly blew it up.”

“Blew it… blew it up?”

“They had a war. Every major country involved. Nearly forty million people dead.”

Arthur makes a choked sound. “Bullshit. There aren’t that many people in the whole world.”

“Not now, there aren’t. The second world war took care of that. Hold on, honey.” She conjures a chair from nowhere, like she pulled it out of the air, then reaches around him to put it behind him.

He sits in it without protest, gun pointing at the floor. “Hastur?”

She is telling the truth, complete and unvarnished.

Arthur keeps swallowing. “A war that big… happened twice?”

“The second time was just about curtains for everybody.” Asenath conjures a second chair and sits across from him, so close that his right knee goes between hers, and she closes her legs on him as if to keep him from falling over.

It’s grounding. He’s grateful. “What happened?”

“They invented a kind of bomb. It went under the codename Project Y.”

He startles. “The Fire of Y?”

She sighs. “That would have already been bad enough on its own—but then someone got involved. An Outer God.”

He swallows audibly. “For what purpose?”

“Boredom? Who the fuck knows? I’m sure as hell not gonna ask him. But he taught them how to make it worse. It was city-wide destruction when humans made it. Then he taught them, and they found a way to unmake the world. Before they used that special bomb, the casualties were already around seventy-five million.”

“Sev- You can’t expect me to believe—”

“After they used it—enhanced by that Outer God—the death-toll climbed over two billion.”

Arthur feels like he might have just left his skin behind on the floor. That many people even existed at one time? And they… died at one time? "Two billion?"

“Didn’t you ever wonder about the tunnels? Where people lived before the Reclamation? They were trying to survive Project Y.”

“But… but that doesn’t…”

“It poisoned the air and the sky. It ruined the soil so even anything that grew was slowly killing you to eat it. Everyone was dying. Even us. Even we who had been faithful. If it had been allowed to play out on its own, there would be no one left.”

“Us? We? You’re saying you—”

“We cried to the Mother Goddess. What else could we do?” Asenath shrugs like it’s nothing, like she’s not casually admitting to the rumors of being older than dirt, of being older than Reclamation and Contracts and Esoteric interference. “She answered. Though… the cost was pretty high.”

“Hastur?” he whispers.

She tells the truth, whole and unvarnished.

“Okay,” says Arthur, who is not okay, in a very tiny voice.

“A lot of us had to sacrifice ourselves,” she says. “I volunteered, but was refused. The Mother Goddess chose who would go and who would stay.”

“Go? Go to the Dark World?”

“Go to The Wood. To her. It’s complicated, and I don’t want to get into it. I was one of the ones chosen to stay and keep watching to ensure that fucked-up mess never happens again. The Old Ones and Outer Gods like humans, Arthur Lester. They don’t want us wiped out—and we came perilously close to that by our own hand, with only a little bit of help. Even Project Y was telling. That Outer God may have taught us how to enhance it, but we were the ones who pushed the button.”

And then maybe Asenath can tell that Arthur is at his limit, because she falls silent and lets him think.

He’s processing. Trying.

He has questions.

He wants those questions to matter. “Okay,” he finally says. “Assuming you’re telling the truth—”

“Which I am,” she says.

“Assuming that,” he says. “First: you said that if those Outer Gods come here, they’ll destroy the world just… because they’re basically too much for it. So why is one trying to come through?”

The corners of her lips quirk. “I didn’t tell you one was.”

“You might as well have, between what you said and what Hastur said. Not to mention you said I’m a vehicle for this thing, somehow. You still need to explain that.”

“Well, fuck me sideways and call me Shirley,” says Asenath. “There's the smart guy I've run into over the last few years.”

I told you.

“Quit it,” says Arthur, cheeks a little red. “Well?”

“First, it’s a Great Old One trying to come through, not an Outer God.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Power and self-regulation. The Outer Gods are so much larger than we can even conceive, Arthur Lester. We’re practically microscopic to them, and we wouldn’t be able to do a damned thing to stop one coming through. The one who fucked with Project Y couldn’t come here, either—he had to do it all through dreams, sending messages. He just wanted to see what would happen. On the other hand, Great Old Ones are just small enough to enjoy playing with us like finger puppets, and the Great Old One trying to come through now doesn’t actually care if they destroy everything, anyway.”

“How do you know?”

“Because they wouldn’t be trying. Great Old Ones don’t have the power to make themselves small enough to walk our world. Them coming through would automatically mean curtains.”

“And they're a… a god?”

“You know, like Cthulhu, or Ghisguth, or the King in Yellow—”

“The King in Yellow!” Arthur blurts. “He’s one of those things? Is he the one trying to come through?”

She gives him an odd look.

“What?” he says.

Her expression is keen, peering. Almost as if she’s trying to see what he’s thinking. “Hmm,” she says.

Stay on topic, witch, says Hastur.

“Sure,” she says. “On topic.”

“So it is the King in Yellow?” says Arthur.

“No,” she finally says. “The threat we’re discussing is not him. He wants to preserve humans—notoriously, some might say. He wouldn’t be trying to do this.”

“How can you be sure? There’ve been incidents. Weird things. People going crazy, chanting his name.”

“That just means someone channeled his power, Arthur Lester, like I channel the Great Mother’s. His power drives people mad just by proximity; but I promise you, he’s not trying to come through. If he’s channeling power here, then he’s trying to find a way to stop the one who’s coming through.”

Arthur has a sudden guess. “Does he have servants?”

“Yes.” She’s watching him keenly again.

“Is Hastur one of his?”

Her face goes through a series of twitches. “You could say that.”

“So Hastur’s… really trying to save the world.”

No hesitation this time. “Yes.”

I told you.

“Tells me why you were so ready to suck him off, too,” Arthur shoots back.

Asenath chokes. Coughs. Smacks herself on the chest. “Arthur Lester, you’re going to be the death of me.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “So which god is it, then?”

“Don’t know, and that's why we haven't been able to stop them. All we do know is they’re gathering power through those connected murders, and looking for a vehicle—someone who can actually handle the indwelling of a Great Old One without immediately exploding. You’re the first I’ve met in over four hundred years who could do that, Arthur Lester.”

He stares again. “That can’t be right.”

“It is.”

“I’m not even that magickal.”

“It has nothing to do with magick. It’s something about your soul, your essence. Who you are.”

“How can you tell? Just because I handled a piece of glass?”

“A piece of glass which should have immediately overwhelmed your mind, showing you all of reality at once, and snapping you like a twig.”

Arthur’s eyes are huge. “Hastur, you didn’t warn me!”

I knew you could do it.

“Fucking hell. And you think—wait. Wait. This is such a risk because they don’t need a Contract to make a vehicle, do they? They can force this on somebody.”

Her eyes lid. “Keep being smart like that and I’m going to make you late to your little police date.”

Arthur needs a moment.

Asenath had made comments exactly like this one many times over the past five years, too, but Arthur had always interpreted them as some form of threat. It wasn’t a threat. Though why she would be at all interested…“The fuck is going on?” he mutters, rubbing his face. “Never mind. Answer the damn question.”

“No, they don’t need a Contract—that’s why they’re gathering power. It will get around the protections the gods themselves put in place to keep this very thing from happening, which involve Contracts. If they did this to you, Arthur Lester, you wouldn’t be a Contractor with choice and voice and body. You’d be a bag. A sack. That god will fill you. Just fill you up, more and more, pouring themself into your being until you are gone, and only they remain.”

He tastes bile. “Fuck. Why? Why would this god do this, if it’s curtains?”

“Selfishness. Whoever this is doesn’t care that nobody else would ever get to play with humans again. They just want to do what they want.”

“Fuck. And you really think I’m a key to this?”

It’s not you. You’re Contracted. They can’t use you.

“They might. They’re playing with more power than I have right now.”

“More? More than you?”

“With the sacrifices they’ve done? With the theft of power from all these connected murders? Yeah. Even I couldn’t do much to stop it.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Find the primary priest. Kill the primary priest. The power collected is tied to them. Kill them, and it dissipates.”

“How do I find the primary priest?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” she says, leaning back in her chair. “We don’t even know which god it is yet, and so can’t find the priest because we don’t know what to look for.”

“Can’t cast a broad net, huh?”

“Been doing that. Hasn’t worked.”

Arthur reaches into his bag and pulls out the dagger. “I don’t suppose this is useful.”

“Fuck,” says Asenath leaning back so sharply her chair creaks. “Okay, that is scary. Put that the fuck away.”

He does. “So it’s special.”

“Uh, yeah. That’ll cut soul and body. You’ll sever their connection to their god. Ah—that thing shouldn’t be in this dimension at all. The Mother must have faith in you, Arthur Lester.”

He stares. “In me?”

“She must.”

“I… don’t know her.”

“She knows you. She knows us all.”

“Right,” says Arthur weakly. “That’s… nice, but it isn’t relevant. Hastur, you said you had a way to find our enemy, remember? That’s why we’re here.”

Yes. I’ve been gathering clues, Arthur—and we are going to use your idiot police friend out there to make this happen. There are several murder scenes you were not called in to see. We need to see them. I caught an edge of etheric resonance in yesterday’s murder; if I can find more, I’ll be able to piece together something identifiable. Either the priest, or at the very least, the god involved.

“Do you know which murder scenes?”

No, but Asenath does.

“Spoil-sport. I was going to do a big reveal.” She leans away from her seat and pulls a sheet of paper out from under Gertrude’s cage, then handles it over.

Six addresses. He could work with this. Concrete steps. “Why these six?”

“Because the victims are connected,” she says. “That’s how the power of these murders can be smushed together—the victims are related, or in love, or dire hate. Something entangling.”

I licked my lips. “Asenath,” he says. “What you just told me about gods, the Dark World, all of it—why is it a secret?”

“Who says it’s a secret?” She bats her eyelashes.

He just glares at her.

Her smile is tired. “The gods don’t want it known.”

“Why?”

“What would you have done with your life if you’d known it?”

That’s not what he’d expected. “I don’t know. I… don’t really like the idea of being preyed on in this way. Hey—what does Harvesting even mean, given all of this?”

“Everything you are—memories, emotions, all of it—gets reduced to its essence and fed to your Summon. You’re going to be poured out in the Dreamlands like holy wine. Sorry.”

Is that better or worse than just being eaten? He doesn’t know. “I still would have done it, for what I’ve been promised.”

“Then I guess you’re on the right path.”

Arthur thinks he can stand. He’s not sure he wants to. He feels like he’d be walking back out a completely different person. “So… we really came here to tell me what was going on, is what it is.”

I knew you wouldn’t believe me.

“No, I wouldn’t have. Sorry.” Arthur leans on his thighs and exhales again. “So we go to the murder scenes, gather clues, somehow weave a resonance. Then we go on a manhunt for whoever this priest is.”

“I’ll help you find them. Once you have that resonance, bring it to me. Be careful. We’re all pretty sure the police have been compromised.”

“By… servants of a god determined to destroy everything?”

“Whoever they are, they think they’re going to be rewarded. And yes. The police have kept us at arm’s length lately for too many murders. Someone is on the inside. Don’t let on what you know to anyone.”

Not even the idiot on the stoop. Even if he’s innocent—which I personally doubt—he could blab to the wrong person.

Arthur decides to get some of his own back. “Hastur’s jealous of Yang.”

“You know, I’m picking that up,” she says, deadpan. “Any given reason?”

“He sucked my dick.”

This time, it’s Hastur who’s making choked noises, like words have failed him.

Asenath laughs. Shakes her head. “Okay, that’s funny.” And her smile turns crooked. “We could make him jealous again.”

Arthur realizes her legs are still pinning his knee. “Are… you really hitting on me?”

“I’m apologizing to you.”

“By hitting on me.”

She shrugs. Her five-o-clock shadow seems darker in this bedroom, but it just serves to bring out the playfulness in her eyes, the redness of her lips. “I’ve hit on you for years, but it only led to arguments. I sort of figured you weren’t into dicks. Turns out you are. You’re just dumb.”

Arthur laughs this time. He doesn’t move his leg. “I won’t argue about being dumb. I thought you hated me.”

She shakes her head. “I’d have fucking cursed you if I did.”

“Nice.”

“Honest.”

“You’re all ancient and whatever, and you still couldn’t figure out how to flirt with me?”

She sighs. “Arthur Lester… you were broken when we met. After your loss, and you got your Summon, you took jobs for the police hoping someone would shoot you in the head. What I was trying to do was making you mad so you’d feel alive.”

It had done that. He stares at her.

“Then I realized I liked doing that, and kept it up. Maybe it helped?” she says.

“It… it did. But I…” This was unfair. Five years of absolute isolation apart from Hastur, and suddenly… this. “What’s gotten into everybody? Shit timing, Asenath.”

“Maybe.”

“I’m dying.”

“Everybody is.”

He stares.

She’s not grabbing at him. It’s nice, actually. She’s not pushing.

(Parker pushed. Arthur decides not to think about it.)

He likes that she isn’t pushing. “If we survive, I don’t know. Let’s talk. Maybe I’m curious what hundreds of years of experience could be like.”

“Maybe I just want to sit and have some tea with you. Let the guy who thought I hated him get to know me when I’m not poking him with a pencil.”

Really not pushing. And he really likes that. “Maybe.”

She holds his gaze for just a moment longer, then finally stands. “Find the resonance. I’ll use it to create a tracker.”

He stands, too, and tries not to think about Parker.

Parker pushes.

(Don’t think about it.)

Parker doesn’t seem to take hints that could be no.

(Don’t think about it.)

It’s not a problem, it’s fine, it’s… not worth thinking about right now. “Sure.”

“Don’t eat him too fast, Hastur.”

I’m afraid I no longer have control over that. I’m leaking through.

She looks sad. “Well. Best of luck, then. Find them. Stab them.”

“I can manage that,” says Arthur, and heads down the hall.

(chapter six)

#malevolent #malevolent big bang 2023 #malevolent fanfic #arthur lester #hastur malevolent #malevolent au #cloud city fic #parker yang #asenath waite #trans asenath waite #trans woman

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wafaelsx · 2 years ago

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the reality of long-term solitude (III)

i’m not so great at structuring these things. imma just write as i go but basically something a friend told me a couple of years ago is starting to click. i find that oftentimes i accept what people tell me as true in the moment while i still have my doubts, because i don’t particularly enjoy discourse unless it’s just so pertinent to moving the conversation forward. i believe we were talking about what we’re looking for in a partner, and i said i want someone who completely understands me. i had the presumption that if i met someone that i was already very compatible with, that in due time she’d come to, solve me perhaps. it’s funny because that’s the last thing i want from anyone else, even friends of mine. i believed that whoever i end up with for a long term romantic relationship would domesticate me in a way. i had a mental image in my head of myself as a pet, and my partner as my owner, but not even in a ddlg kind of way as it probably sounds. i don’t particularly like being dominated or what have you, i’m pretty ‘vanilla’ on those fucking bsdm tests. part of me, i suppose, was and still am tired of living, in the traditional sense. i think if i found someone that i was extraordinarily compatible with personality wise, and was also moderately attractive, i’d be willing to marry this person. i keep going back and forth between referring to my potential partner as a woman and them, but i’m heterosexual.. believe it or not. hopefully i can find a fucking woman before they’re not even called that anymore. but in any case, the vision in my head is something like i’m left to my own devices for about 65% of the time, and the other 35% of the time would be spent with them. this time i would also surrender to doing actual activities, going out, whatever the fuck. i kind of see myself as a bit of a science experiment in a way in that regard. i envision myself being like shown off in a way, like ‘look at this guy, he sure is something! i also fuck him, for reasons that may not be apparent!’ because i do believe on the surface level, there isn’t much to desire in me as a person. i’m probably a lot funnier than most people, because i have an easier time finding humor in situations, or making connections others wouldnt, based on my knowledge of, i mean everything. i’m probably also a bit smarter than the average person. those two attributes alone make me unique in a sense, other than that i don’t know what you’d see in me as a person, both personality and physical attraction wise.

anyway, my friend’s response to my desire for my partner to understand me in an all encompassing way was quickly shot down, basically. he told me that no one will ever truly understand me, because humans aren’t capable of doing that, not even for themselves to an extent. this probably should’ve been obvious to me, i know. i’m not naive in many ways, but as it pertains to romantic relationships i certainly don’t have it all figured out. my attempts at such have all fallen pretty much flat, and i can’t say i’ve found that those experiences made it easier for me to find someone new, as many might allude to. they were swings and misses, wholly, and i get frustrated with myself thinking about my missteps in that regard. a lot of things u just have to experience to get it, and i will say this is probably one of them. advice about ‘‘women’‘ or ‘‘how to get pussy’‘ or whatever never sounds very good coming from anyone, especially cause whatever advice they give you probably won’t work because they aren’t you, and don’t understand you. the nuance involved in courting a partner is quite complicated in my own estimation. there isn’t really a guaranteed way to convince someone that you’re worth fucking, and to be honest, you’re probably better off misleading them in a way if thats your goal. lying isn’t necessarily what im getting at, but it seems in my experience that what women found attractive in me wasn’t actually who i was, so when we make it out the ‘‘talking phase’‘ and they see me a bit more transparently, many of them were quick to throw in the towel. i’m a bit of an obsessive person, so it’s been hard for me to let go of people from my past. all in all, i chalk it up as a learning experience and i’m pretty unfazed by my past dealings with women. it doesn’t keep me up at night, but i do sometimes wonder what, or if i had actually done wrong, or if it just wasn’t meant to be. i will also grant that sometimes u meet people at the wrong part of ur life and the maturity difference/difference in actual place in life proves too great to overcome. logic tells me pretty much every relationship ive seriously been involved with couldve been salvaged, or maybe a better way of saying it was i doubt that we were different enough to not eventually work it out, if we both tried. most ppl arent patient tho with relationships, and i get it. people often bring up just the staggering amount of humans on earth as an antidote to your dismay about unrequited love, or what have you. i think that’s a pretty stupid thing to tell people when theyre going thru it, partly because i dont think the logic actually holds any water. i think most people could be in a committed monogamous relationship if they were both mature enough, i think thats the biggest determining factor above everything else i’m still very young, so most women i encounter are not really enticed by the idea of lifelong commitment. i believe if we have enough in common and we like fucking each other more than average, what else is out there really? i think those two things together are probably extremely difficult to find in one person, especially for me.

i probably have more to say, but i can’t think of how i want to format it, even in an approximate sense. so i’ll try to sum it up with these closing thoughts. i guess i’m just saying i realized that i have to learn to live with myself. oftentimes i express my thoughts or beliefs, and i can see in real time how my words are just failing to land on people, even my own fucking parents. maybe this all just sounds like an emo wall of text, idk. people are more unique than i suppose i had considered, so to ask of someone to solve any other person would be quite the undertaking. i also realize that before i can be successful at anything, i’m going to have to change in a very profound, fundamental way. the answer isn’t clear to me, i’m unsure what lies ahead.

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fairydust-stuff · 2 months ago

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Black Lagoon & Banana Fish crossover: Fuck Dino

Five minutes later and he’s being dragged by those stupid ropes which that horrible slut moved to his neck. The sour bitch as Ash calls her still has Ibe at gun point. As they enter Yut Lung’s sitting room in his manor.

Yut Lung gapes as Ash is thrown at his feet.

“ Here you go tramp stamp” says the girl.

“ You actually caught him”

“ Bastard!” Ash lunges for his throat only for the Asian women to yank the ropes causing him to gasp for air.

“ Shenhua!” Yut Lung yelled.

“ I get job?”

“ Yes, please stop choking Ash”

The women Shenhau looses the ropes on Ash.

“ B…itch…” he coughs

“ Your injured” Yut Lung touches Ash’;s shoulder, he slaps those hands away “ Don’t touch me you bastard!”

“ I just want to see if there’s a bullet”

Revy keeps her gun trained on Ibe as Yut Lung tends to Ash’s shoulder.

“ Are you a doctor?” said a voice as a japanese man in a business suit enters the room.

“ Acupuncturist and chinese medicine, I know the human body inside and out. That includes how to repair it”

“ You bastard when you gave me Shorters and Griffins Killer, I thought you might be on my side!” Ash dives for him again only for the Japanese guy to whisk Yut Lung behind him and take Ash’s punch in the gut.

“ Rock?” Yut Lung cries out in surprise.

Revy slambed Ash into the wall hard with her good arm, her face isn’t wearing the grin from before her eyes are completely cold. He suddenly realizes how\ he looks to other people. Are his eyes really so devoid of humanity? The eyes of a wild beast baldy had said hungrily. He can see nothing in her eyes but the intent to draw his blood.

Who is this girl?

“ Revy, I’m fine” Rock reassures her getting up “ See only bruised” he lifts up his shirt to reveal vague grey spots.

“ Hey Tramp stamp lock this asshole up, before I loose my shit” Revy said seemingly to snap out of her homicidal rage.

“ Of course Shenhau please restain the Lynx, I have chains in the Basement”

“ Keeping him live dangerous” the women warned.

“ I’ll write you both a bigger check, for your troubles” Yut Lung said.

Shenhau still looks uncertain but she nods and drags Ash off by his chains keeping enough distance between them with the ong length of chain so he cann’t attack her. Dam this one is way smarter then his usual opponents.

“ Hey Lynx cunt!” Revy snaps

“ What did you say to me bitch!”

“ Try anything and you’ll be scraping your guy off the ceiling, after I blow him to hell” Revy shoves her gun aginst Ibe’s forehead.

Ash nods reluctently and Shenhau drags him off down into the basement

He intends to attack her the moment she takes off the ropes only for her to pin him to the wall with a throwing knife by thrusting it though his sleeve before his can move. .

“ We from Roanapur, we not like little boys and old men you get off shooting” Shenhua said her eyes narrowed. “ I not care what boss say, you try and it go in heart, motherfucker” she taunts before bringing out a pair of thick chains.

Then it finally dawns on Ash he might be completely fucked!...

“ I don’t like this, that Ash kid is like a dog with fucking rabies” Revy declared.

Rock secretly agrees.

After Ibe has been locked away by Yut Lung’s guards and Ash chained up in his prison cell they’ve both been on edge. Shenhua didn’t seem much better, the usually perky assassin had seemed a bit less cheerful and had taken to guarding Ash’s cell.

“ Your shoulder” Yut Lung remarked “ Please, Come here, i’ll pop it back into place”

Revy looks wary.

“ You won’t be any use if you cann’t use both arms” the boy adds.

She reluctantly does so and Yut Lung places his hand on certain parts of her arm after feeling around the area then he takes both hands and shoves.

Revy blinks at him “ That surprisingly didn’t hurt as much as I thought”

“ I cann’t exactly go to a public hospital, I do have a privite doctor for emergencies but he used to work for my brothers. I’d like to examine you as well to make sure there’s no internal bleeding” he said to Rock.

“ Your really good at this”

“ Its just basic stuff, hardly anything that complicated,” Yut Lung said dismissively looking uncomfortable. “ I appologize but I’ll contact the old pervert tonight and have him transferred as soon as possible”

Revy looked a bit disappointed.

“ Gving Ash back to Golzine, puts you in the same category as someone who engages in human trafficking. Is that really the path you want to take?” Rock interjected

“ You don’t understand those like Ash and I. Someone as insignificant as that old pervert is barely a blip. In a long History of disgusting men. After a while it becomes less of a horror and something you endure “

“Bullshit you cann’t accept Ash’s scars because then you’d have to deal with your own” Revy said casually.

Yut Lung smashes the glass against the wall fury on his face.

“ I’m right aren’t I”

“ Shut up!”

“ You and Ash are two dumb fucking kids who got traded around and fucked by a bunch of limp dick perverts. Other then that you have nothing else in common. So projecting some huge connection…..is just a waste of your God Dam time. Because to Ash your no different then the dozens of other kids who’s blood he waded though to get where he is.”

“ Ash never….” Yut lung’s tone is defensive.

“ Killed them himself or ignored the other child whores….its all the fucking same. He went straight to the top. Your so far at the bottom he won’t even bother wiping your piss off his shoes.”

Yut Lung turns and runs out of the room looking distrought.

“ That was kinda harsh even for you” Rock remarks.

“If he gets any advantage, this mansion will become a fucking blood bath and not one of us will be getting out of here alive. Unless we take him out first. This little prince has blinded himself to the truth.”

“ What if I talked to Ash”

“ Wouldn’t matter, guys like Ash they think their gods gift. You should of seen how shocked he was. That Clinglish and I got the drop on him. He’ll probably have some shit ass fancy excuse but the truth is with guys like that it all boils down to pride. Yut Lung is just the weaker version of him, so Ash has to crush him and us anything and anyone that ever made him feel helpless…..so he’ll never feel like that again”

Rock sits there thoughtfully.

“ Fuck that idolt Dino will never be able to hold his ass! He couldn’t do it the first two times!” Revy ranted…

#banana fish #black lagoon #yut lung lee #lee yut lung #revy black lagoon #rock #ash lynx #don't come at me about how Ash couldn't be taken down by Revy and Shenhua Ash can get taken down pretty easy when the plot calls for it #also S & R dealt with Roberta that's the level of extreme their used to

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helenaheissner · 4 months ago

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Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 30

Zeke

My arms were wrapped around Katie’s hips as I made out with her, lips on hers, tongue feeling hers. The beginnings of her bust tickled her as we pressed together and her falsies mashed against her delicate chest, and she wouldn’t stop giggling and squealing.

For more reasons than one, mind you: my girl was championship-bound.

Now all I had to do was meet her there.

“Is it my turn yet?” Faith asked, leaning forward and offering a glimpse at her cleavage.

Kate and I met eyes and nodded at each other, and I scooped Faith up into a bridal carry while Kate cupped the smaller girl’s cheeks in her hands and planted a kiss on her lips.

For what it’s worth, I’m sure I sounded like a certain kind of guy when I say I love watching my girlfriends make out with each other. And I didn’t not get turned on by it, but also it was just… Lovely. They were both so beautiful, and they cared for each other so much. What the three of us had was multiplicable, growing and growing with each moment any or all of us were together. And part of me… Maybe part of me deep down was worried that there were things that the two of them would share that I’d never be a part of, that I could never even hope to understand or comprehend. They were both girls, they were both trans, they both had parents’ that actually loved them. They were both miles smarter than I was. But when they stopped kissing each other and both pointed their eyes towards me, any and all fears I had evaporated. I was a part of them, just as they were part of me and part of each other. We all went together. We all fit together.

The only question was ‘who to kiss first?’

Kate answered for me when she pushed Faith’s face towards mine and we locked lips. God, carrying her in my arms felt good. Images sparked inside my mind, of carrying her past the threshold of a new house while she wore a white dress that moments later I tore off of her with my teeth.

I would do anything for this woman.

I would do anything for either of these women.

But for both of them… For both of these women, I could do anything.

Including win this fight tonight.

“Oh get a room, you perverts,” Haverfield’s nasally, serpentine voice snarled as he wheeled Ansible past us.

“Not until we get done schooling your pathetic ass, Haverfield,” I said, eyes narrow as I set Faith down on her feet and held her close to me.

He quite literally throbbed with rage, fists balled, neck-vein bulging, eyes wide and breathing frenzied. He opened his mouth, and a river of slurs came pouring out. I lunged forward, fists raised, but I stopped when I felt two hands tugging at the back of my shirt: my girlfriends didn’t want this fight. They wanted a different one.

“Little bitch,” Haverfield said before spitting at my feet. He skulked away, fists still clenched while his arms hung limp at his sides.

I grinded my teeth together while plotting all the ways I’d subjugate this hateful bastard to my wrath inside the ring. But at the same time, recognition sparked inside my mind.

The wall at Gaines’.

My eyes shot open, and I turned to look at Katie. Going by the look on her face, she was having the exact same thought as me.

Kate started, “Did he-”

“I think he did.”

“The gym,” Faith said, pulling both of us into a huddle. “You guys are talking about-”

“Yeah,” Kate and I said simultaneously.

“Shit.”

“We have no evidence, though,” Kate said.

“You’re right,” I said.

Faith shook her head. “We don’t need it. We just need to get him to fess up. Get most folks mad enough, secrets come spilling out.”

Kate smirked. “I don’t think that’ll be too much of a problem where Haverfield is concerned.”

“But that’s assuming he did it,” Faith said.

“He just quoted that wall of hate-speech verbatim,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, because he’s a bigoted asshole, and none of those were uncommon slurs where the three of us are concerned,” Faith pointed out. She blinked once, then added, “I really hate that there are common and uncommon slurs- too many bad words that all mean the same terrible things.”

“I don’t disagree,” Kate said. “On either count. The Portmans’ have just as much motive, and they’re arguably about as terrible as Haverfield is. Same with Olivia-”

“It wasn’t Olivia,” Faith said. “That’s not me defending her, that’s just me being honest: she’s way too much of a straight-shooter to do something like that.”

“She’s right,” I said. “Olivia’s not stupid or impulsive, she’s just a linear-thinker. It would never even occur to her to do something like this.”

“Fair point,” Kate nodded. “I’ll defer to you guys on that. So it was either Haverfield, the Portmans, or…”

“Or who?”

Kate blinked. “I almost don’t wanna say it yet. Let’s just… Proceed with the whole ‘piss off Haverfield so bad he spills any beans he me or may not have’ plan and take it from there, okay?”

“Works for me,” I said.

“Same here,” Faith said.

That was when my phone alarm went off. It was fight time.

“Speaking of which,” Faith smiled. She gave me a peck on the cheek and said, “You ready for this, big guy?”

I put on my winningest smile and said, “Hell yeah I am.”

***

“IT’S! ROBOT FIGHTING TIME!!!!” boomed the announcer. “In the Red Square: this ‘bot will destroy you at the speed of light. It’ll drag you all across space and time, and leave you DISPOSSESSED! IT’S… ANSIBLE!!!”

I’d like to say something about how nobody cheered for Haverfield… But that would just be patently untrue. Plenty of people cheered for him, plenty clapped for him. It was normal. It was expected.

And it still pissed me off. “I guess some people really do like you, Haverfield,” I chirped, wearing my best smug-douchebag-smirk. “Who woulda thunk it?”

“Oh shut up, you little brat,” he snarled at me from across the stage while the commentators said their bit.

“AND IN THE BLUE SQUARE!” the announcer continued. “This bot KNOWS THE DRILL! It gets STRAIGHT TO THE POINT! It’ll get your SCREWS LOOSE and PLUG YOU FULL OF HOLES! IT’S… DAI GURREN!!!”

Faith and I did a few steps of our waltz, drinking in the limelight, hoping beyond hope we could make it past this one. Haverfield looked downright apoplectic, eyes bulging so wide I thought they’d pop out of his skull.

We wheeled DG into the battle box, and Haverfield just kept glaring at us from across the way. I drummed my fingers on my thighs while Faith breathed slow, steady breaths in and out her nostrils. “You ready?” I whispered into her ear.

“You’re at my side, aren’t you?” she turned and said to me in a soft voice.

“Of course I am.”

“And you always will be?”

“Until the end of the world,” I answered. “And maybe even a few days after that.”

She smiled, and in an instant, I was pulled back to the night we met, the first time we’d spoken in that cafeteria, the first time I’d seen her light up and show off those pearly-whites, when she’d first shown me the plans for her robot.

For our robot.

“I love you,” we said at the same time, and then we both paused and blinked and chuckled. Then, again at the same time, we both said, “I love you too.”

“Oh my fucking God,” Haverfield groaned.

We both gave covert middle fingers, making sure to keep out of the camera’s view. Honestly, it felt like we didn’t even have to try to piss him off- us being happy seemed like enough to set his blood boiling.

What a fucking loser.

“ ROBOTS! ACTIVATE!”

And away we went.

We flanked him on opposite sides, DG bearing left while I drove G to the right. Haverfield went after DG first, so I went in from behind to puncture his back-left tire. That, however, was when he reversed course, and I very narrowly swung out of the way before he flattened me. I pivoted and shot after his side, hoping to sever the connective wire that kept his horizontal buzzsaw spinning. He kept up his reverse-course while Faith and I gave chase. Bastard had upped his speed significantly over the course of the season, and he weaved out of the way of the screws just in time for DG to nearly crash into them.

Nearly, like I said. Still, Faith muttering profanity under her breath hammered home how bad that could have been.

“Steady, Faithy, steady,” I said.

“Right,” she said.

Haverfield came rushing back towards us, and we both charged him together. I tilted G’s drill upwards as I snuck underneath Ansible’s blade, then shoved the drill into the spinner and jammed the thing. Haverfield screamed as he powered forward, but I held my ground as DG caught up and punctured him with all of her drills, and together we ripped Haverfield apart. Haverfield pushing forward only caused us to eviscerate more and more of him, and when ten seconds passed and we pulled away, Ansible’s primary weapon fell off.

It clattered on the floor, no longer anything but a hunk of metal.

Haverfield screamed, and screamed, and screamed, but we just kept at him, ramming and puncturing and drilling and pushing him back into a corner until there was nothing behind him but the rotating screws. Frothing at the mouth with rage, he charged us, and we both dodged and then took him from behind. I got his wheels, Faith his engine.

And then, he stopped.

No movement, no noise, nothing.

Even Nate Haverfield himself was rendered silent.

“10! 9! 8!” the countdown began.

Faith and I started our waltz together before it was even over, and we finished, Haverfield had already stormed off.

As we put our robots on the sledge, I watched Haverfield skulking down the hallway and into the pits.

“Hey, Faith?” I said.

“Go,” Faith said.

“A-are you sure. Don’t you want me to-”

“Go find out the truth,” Faith said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “For us, and for our girl.”

I nodded, then I gave chase and followed Haverfield out the door and into the parking lot. “Haverfield!” I called after him. “Haverfield! Hold up a second!”

He stopped short and turned around and glared at me, snarling, fists bunched, eyes shooting not just daggers but full on swords. “What the fuck do you want, you little shit? Are you done trying to humiliate me?!”

I breathed out slowly. “No, actually, I’m not.”

He stood in front of his car, an old and beat-up looking pick-up truck with a faded red paint job. “Okay then, asshole, let’s go-”

I didn’t wait for him to finish. I just punched him in the nose. He stumbled backwards and landed against his car, then tried to charge at me. I tripped him as he ran forward, and he face-planted on the concrete. “Ahh, fuck!” he groaned.

I fought off the urge to kick him while he was down, and settled for asking, “Why’d you do it, Nate?”

“Do what?!”

“Gaines’ facility,” I said.

“What about it?”

“Why’d you rob the place? Why’d you graffiti it with slurs?”

“What the hell are you talking about, boy?” he said, rolling over and looking at me while clutching his bloody nose.

“Don’t play dumb, Nathan, I’m really not in the mood. You made my girlfriend have a panic attack, and I don’t take that lightly,” I said, beginning to reconsider kicking him while he was down.

He lowered his head, letting me take in the full glory of his bloodied face. “Newsflash, asshole! It wasn’t me! I didn’t even know about that until you told me just now!”

“Why should I believe you?”

He gaped at me. “Fuck, man, I dunno. Look, I get it, you and I don’t like each other, and I definitely don’t like your weird little relationship you’ve got with Watanabe and Calloway, but I’m not a monster, and I’m definitely not a criminal. It. Wasn’t. Me.”

I loomed over him, fists balled, jaw clenched. What to do now. It was my word against his, I had no proof-

“He’s telling the truth,” came a voice from across the parking lot. We both looked over and saw Kate approaching us, utter defeat and misery pouring off of her. “He didn’t do it. They caught the guy who did it. Check your phone- I just sent you the headline.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, opened the link Kate texted me. ‘Local businessman arrested for insurance fraud.’

I looked up and let my mouth hang open while I locked eyes with Kate. Her arms hung limp at her sides. Gaines did it to himself, to collect the money, and probably to have an excuse to cut ties with Kate.

“Uh, what’s going on?” Haverfied said.

“Just go home, Haverfield,” Kate said absently. “My boyfriend is sorry for hitting you, even if you started it.”

“Uh, right,” I nodded.

“Whatever. Time to cut my losses and walk away,” Haverfield said. “If I come back next season, we’ll settle this in the battle box then. Have a nice life, ya’ weirdos.”

Kate and I stood there, staring at each other while Haverfield lumbered into his car and drove away. Finally, I walked towards her and said, “Kate, I-”

“It’s okay,” Kate said. “Haverfield… He’s a jerk. And we both assumed the worst.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said, closing the gap between us, putting my hands towards her shoulders.

She shied away. “I, uh, I need to be alone right now.”

“Are you sure-”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry if I-”

“It’s nothing you’ve done,” Kate said. “I just… I dunno, this all just really stings, and I think I need some space to lick my wounds.”

“I completely understand,” I said.

Kate nodded. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Say good night to Faith for me, okay?”

She turned and walked away, down the lot and into her own truck already loaded up with her robot, before I could even respond.

Faith came out the side-exit of the arena as Kate’s car started up. Kate drove away as Faith caught up to me.

“Hey,” Faith said. “I heard the news. Where’s-”

“Home,” I said. “She’s… She’s gonna need some time to process this one.”

“Okay,” Faith nodded. “I just… I hope she’s ready in time for next week.”

I blinked, and the full gravity of the situation finally hit me: Kate was going to the finals next week, her sponsor was in LA County lockup waiting on bail, she had no money, and her opponents were…

Her boyfriend and her girlfriend.

And with that knowledge, I watched my girlfriend, and my soon to be opponent, drive away, a hideous knot of dread and angst threatening to strangle my heart.

***

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catharsisbykiki · 9 months ago

Text

I will most likely never send this to you

Dear Hannah,

I will most likely never send this to you, because you deserve better than to be bothered by a girl you knew over a decade ago. A girl who was connected to the person who traumatised you the most- or at least I hope no one else has taken that spot.

I hope you’re doing well. I used to check your social media often, but I feel I need to stop being so obsessed with people from the past, so I haven’t for a little while.

I wonder if you looked me up after it all. I doubt it, but who knows.

I saw David recently, in the city centre. What would you have done if you saw him? Have you ever seen him since? I went up to him and spoke to him. I’m inclined to say you would have done the opposite. Maybe because you’re smarter than me. Or maybe we just respond differently to trauma. I don’t know. My guess is that you’re more boundaried than me, which I suppose is smarter really.

I was awful to you back then. I know I’ve said it before. And deep down I know you wouldn’t hold a grudge for it. I was so young- we both were. I think for a time I thought I was victim #1 because I was the younger of us, but to be honest I think you had it worse- I wish it wasn’t true. Though I suppose the only reason he wasn’t aggressive with me is because the emotional manipulation worked so well on me and I was so willing to gratify him. David has admitted he was shittier to you, too (we emailed back and forth after I saw him, but have stopped now) though understandably that’s probably no consolation. It’s interesting because even as recently as a few years ago I probably would have been offended by that admission from him. It would have made me feel less important, as self-absorbed as admitting that makes me feel. But I no longer feel the need to have been the special one. We were both special in spite of how he treated us. We were (and are I’m sure!) vibrant, beautiful, full of life young women. And smart, too- we just ignored our intuition when it came to him. This song lyric would have been so relevant at the time: “You like a certain type of woman who’s smart but neglects intuition. When you’re insecure, could be me, could be her- you just run to whoever is winning”.

Speaking of songs, Olivia Rodrigo’s ‘Lacy’ reminds me so much of how I felt about you back then. I don’t know whether that’s flattering or creepy. But sometimes I wondered whether I was in love with David or you lmao. I was just so incredibly jealous of you, almost to the point of infatuation. I thought you were just gorgeous (and still do, just in a less creepy, obsessive way!), that I wanted to be you. Maybe a lot of that is because I thought David might love me more lol. But also because I thought you were just so cool and effortless. Any spiteful behaviour on my part truly was just 100% jealousy. I feel embarrassed by it now, and so regretful that I didn’t listen to you when you told me how awful he was. But I was just so infatuated with him- so groomed. I know you understand because you were, too.

I don’t think he loved either of us though, as I’m sure you can agree. He loved how we made him feel. I don’t think he was capable of love at the time; he was far too selfish. Maybe he appreciated different parts of us, but I don’t think either of us was the winner. We both lost by having known him.

I was going to say you’re the one person who had a very similar experience with the same toxic person, but I'm inclined to believe he hurt other girls in the same way, unfortunately. But you’re the one person I know of, the one person I’ve spoken to. And so I just wonder about you, and how you feel about it all now. I wonder if it fucked you up the same way it did me. I hope it didn’t fuck you up at all, but I know you said it had in the past. And how couldn't it have? I hope at least that you have been able to heal the vast majority of any wounds caused by him. I thought I had for a very long time, but perhaps I just repressed it. I think a lot of my previous mental health struggles lead back to him in a way that wasn’t immediately obvious.

I thought I was so cool and resilient ten years ago. But a decade on, I find myself obsessively thinking about him. I’m somewhat embarrassed to admit that but I try to be compassionate to myself. I think it’s a trauma bond, albeit a very outdated washed up one. Do you feel it, too? Or did you at any point?

I can forgive what he did to me, but I hate so much what he did to you. I hope your current partner is kind and wholesome and loving in the way that you always deserved.

But I feel empathy for David, too. I don’t know if that’s insulting to you, but I can’t help how I feel. To not feel empathy for him would go against my personality. Hurt people hurt people, right? He still shouldn’t have done any of it and it will never be right. Two things can be true at once: I have compassion for him and I hate what he did. From our email exchange, I do get the sense he’s changed. Which I’m happy about, for both his sake and for the sake of any woman (hopefully of an appropriate age!) he interacts with. And I guess for us too, because it feels like some kind of indirect justice. But maybe he hasn’t changed. I can still believe though, if it makes me feel better. It’s up to me; that’s my power. And even if he hasn’t changed, he will never be in a position to hurt me again.

I will forever be reprocessing what happened, I think. I don’t know if you feel the same. Maybe if I ever have a teenage child, it will truly sink in. Another lyric that comes to mind: “if my child needed protection from a fucker like that man, I’d sooner gut him ‘cos nothing cuts like a mother”.

To end this rambling that has no use beyond catharsis, I wish you all the very best in life, Hannah. He did such a good job of turning us against each other, and I hate that. I hate how selfish I was back then, but I was a teenager after all. Funny to think I believed I was mature for my age. I'm so grateful for the kindness you showed to me; at some points you felt like an older, wiser sister. Even if I no longer look for you online, I will always be rooting from you from afar.

And though I'm hesitant to reach out, I would always be glad to hear from you.

Lots of love,

K x

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jeffgrant4real · 1 year ago

Text

My Barbenheimer Experience

(I don’t think there are any spoilers here, just basic thoughts on the movies)

Saturday, July 22, 2023 7:23 PM

I guess I feel the need to type “Barbenheimer” even more this weekend so I figured I’d recap my busy Friday at the movies. It was definitely an experience and people need to know this information. Yes, this is important.

WELL, I’m on the internet so I was aware of the Barbenheimer meme phenomenon and knew I’d see both movies at some point but didn’t make any plans until my friend BJ texted a week or 2 ago asking if I’d want to join he and 1 or 2 other people for the movie event of the year. It doesn’t take much to get me to watch movies so I said I was down. We got our tickets for a 10:45 showing of Oppenheimer on one of the XD screens at Tinseltown in Grapevine followed by Barbie at 5:30. Cool.

So Friday rolls around and I drive the half hour over to the theater, which I don’t go to often these days but it was the main place I saw movies at in high school so it always makes me think of the late 90s when I go back. I remember Friday nights and teenagers driving fancy cars their parents bought them. #memories Anyway…

I met up with BJ in the lobby as he waited for his friend Michael. I got a large popcorn and a bottled water, my usual lately. I found our seats and went for a successful pee and sat back down like 30 seconds before the movie started. Now, to be clear I think all I knew about Oppenheimer, the actual person, was that he was the father of the atomic bomb. I was more going to see the new Christopher Nolan movie than because I’m a history buff but I was glad to have a chance to learn more.

The screen was gigantic, like 3 or 4 stories high, and the filmmaking and acting were top notch but there was more talking than I expected and for some reason I kept losing focus and just blanking out for whole scenes, which of course were important to remember later, so I kept feeling like it was going over my head. I think I’m going through a sort of personal Christopher Nolan existential crisis where I can’t tell if I’m a fan anymore. I respect and admire his ambition but I’ve been having a difficult time hooking into the stories in his movies. I think maybe he’s smarter than me and I feel kinda dumb. Yesterday, I kept telling myself that it was an important story and that I should pay attention better but I just couldn’t chill out and enjoy the movie like a normal person. Maybe I was thinking too much about how I was going to watch another movie afterwards, I’m not sure. I just know that as the movie kept going I got noticeably sleepier, which doesn’t typically happen with me at movies. Like I kinda wanted to take a nap even though I got decent sleep the night before.

All this to say I had a pretty lukewarm feeling about the movie by the end of it, which I’m pretty sure isn’t the normal response; most seem to be blown away by it. I’m seriously not sure what my deal is because I think it was a good movie and I’d recommend it, but I was just sorta bored if I’m being honest. I’m sure it’ll be nominated for Best Picture later and maybe I’ll revisit it but I just wasn’t feeling it much on the first viewing.

Anyway, after it was over we walked out and the other 2 seemed more positive than I was. We had 3 hours to kill before Barbie and Michael went home so I hung out with BJ. We went to his house where his wife and 2 of his daughters were and it was hilarious to me that we were leaving them soon after to go watch Barbie with 2 other dudes (a 4th, Codey, joined us).

If you asked me before we went which of the 2 movies I was looking forward to the most it would 1,000 times be Barbie. I’m a big fan of Greta Gerwig’s previous 2 movies Lady Bird and Little Women and was excited to see what she would do with a giant Hollywood movie. I don’t have much of a connection to Barbie as a toy but it’s an interesting pop cultural thing to play around with and the trailers and promotional material made it look like a blast. Also, her partner Noah Baumbach co-wrote the script with her, and he’s a director I enjoy, as well as his writing collaborations with Wes Anderson, (The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou and Fantastic Mr. Fox) so Barbie has been in the “stick it in my veins”-zone for me for a while.

Anyway, I was disappointed with one thing going in. Where we got to see Oppenheimer on a gigantic screen, Barbie was playing in one of those older, longer auditoriums and we were sitting near the back so the screen was maybe 8 times tinier. I knew the movie was going to be dynamite visually so I wished we could’ve been closer to the screen (maybe I’ll see it again just for that reason). I didn’t mention this earlier but ALL DAY LONG we were passing by groups of people dressed in pink and it seemed like over half the people in our screening were outfitted for the movie, which added a fun extra layer to the experience. BJ and I thought about going to Target between the movies to get pink shirts but didn’t make it.

I thought the movie was incredibly entertaining and creative and super weird for a big studio tentpole, which made me like it even more. I don’t know how Gerwig got away with so much of what happened. I can see a lot of people not enjoying it, but I admired how boldly it was its own thing; it felt very punk rock for a movie that’s going to make boatloads of dollars. It reminded me of The LEGO Movie in how it used the IP in a fresh way and made an actual good movie out of a film that was probably put into production mainly to sell toys. The most impressive parts of Barbie to me were clearly the production design and the performances. I couldn’t believe how cool the sets and props looked and Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling could seriously, weirdly be nominated for Oscars for playing these toys.

More than anything the movie reminded me of things like The Brady Bunch Movie in how it took a beloved, if dated, property and honored it while also satirizing what it stands for. I remember seeing that movie in the 90s when it came out and not getting it and thinking it wasn’t very good, but I rewatched it a few years ago and thought it was hilarious. Heh.

If you haven’t seen Gerwig talk about the movie’s inspirations they’re pretty interesting. She’s cited The Wizard of Oz, The Truman Show, Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, Singin’ in the Rain, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Rear Window and many others as references. It’s fun to think of the movie leading young, emerging cinephiles to some true classics.

I’m glad I was able to see both movies on the same day and fulfill the meme but it was honestly a LOT and I don’t think I processed either one especially well. This was a special movie day though and I’m happy I got to participate. I think that’s about it. Thanks for reading.

SUBLIME!

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moontheoretist · 2 years ago

Quote

General Ross laughed—a raspy, weak thing and his hair seemed even grayer in the low light. “Decades, Stark. Decades in service. I believed in that shit. Had to.” He looked down at his bandaged hand and downed the alcohol in a gulp. Tony’s brow furrowed. He had known the General in a professional capacity for a long time. This was…different. Tony poured him another shot; half, this time. “It’s easy to get caught up in it. The movies, the video reels, the parades. The museums filled with history labeled as ‘American Greatness.’ The first successfully enhanced human on known record was a 6-foot-something, blonde haired and blue-eyed white man and all of it is the first thing you see when you wake up until you shut your eyes at night in a bedroom full of memorabilia. Pledging Allegiance to a flag before you’re able to form abstract thoughts. It’s all you know. And it’s a damn good story—so good and pervasive you never even begin to think. Your family’s been doing this for, what? How long?” “One of the first colonists—served with Washington himself,” came the mumbled reply. “Mm. I get it. But then you grow—start looking outside the box. You begin to hear the rumors; you hear the disturbing, gut wrenching things done for country and corporate interests. You learn about the rape, the killings, the kidnappings, the human trafficking, the burnings, the genocide, the greed…the drive to consume everything—people, land, capital. And then you wonder about your place in furthering that destruction. All that effort and sweat…for what? I’ve read the classified reports, General; just as you have. And the two of us…well, we made our decisions in the name of Empire.” “Tch. You sound like my daughter.” “She’s a very intelligent lady.” “That’s all her mother. Smarter than my ass, at any rate. Refused to join JROTC and buried her head in biology books instead. The Old Man had his own ideas about women serving so he didn’t get on her like he did me before he went six feet under at Arlington. I was sort of relieved to be honest—at least she wouldn’t end up like…Elias.” Tony noted the name but knew better than to follow that thread. Instead, he said, “So you’ve had your doubts for a while.” “Naw… …well. …Perhaps. Perhaps. But what else could I do?” “When you got a hard ass parent breathing ~legacy~ down your neck? It’s difficult to do much else. You keep on because to do otherwise would be to admit your family shed blood and died for…that. You’d have to acknowledge that you’re way more comfortable with atrocities than you’d care to admit. That your loved ones have died and you’ve wasted decades on…horror. That was how that line went, wasn’t it? 'The horror—the horror.’” “Hn. Hated that movie.” “I imagine it made you uncomfortable. I did prefer the book myself although both are phenomenal. On the other hand I am a sucker for Marlon Brando. Ooh, he was a fine specimen in his prime.” Tony sighed and adjusted himself better on the aging barstool. “I’m not saying this to rub salt into wounds because I’m not any better. When I started making weapons I had no real idea about life or death. I was in grade school. But I was good at it, it made Howard happy, so I built away. Then when I was old enough to know better? I, too, kept on keeping on. And who knows how long I would have if I hadn’t, finally, gotten a taste of my own medicine. Until I was the one being shot at—until I was the one with shrapnel tearing up my insides. Until I was being dumped head first into filthy water. I didn’t pull any triggers, and, sure, if not me then someone else would have filled the void…but the thing is those hypotheticals don’t change a goddamn thing. I can’t put that shit on any one else. And now here I am sitting on the spoils of wars, with a daughter of my own and I think about all those other daughters who…well.” Tony trailed off, eyes on the bottle in his hand. It would be easy to go right back into what he knew. Terrible for him and other people, but comfortable. Known. Every day was a struggle in breaking new ground and he wondered if there would be a time there wouldn’t be. “You think stepping out of the game will cleanse your soul?” Ross sounded curious, not sarcastic. Tony had an inkling he wasn’t asking for Tony’s sake. “I wish I had a better answer than no. Decades of being the Merchant of Death doesn’t get cleared away by a year of playing nice and giving away smartphones. That’ll be a part of my identity until I die and long after—I’ve got to make peace with that.” “Then why bother? When you’re in so deep-” The General cut himself off and his hand had closed into a fist. It shook from the force of his grip. Tony pulled his gaze away to rest on the worn grain of the wood beneath his fingertips. “I believe…now, at least, that you do the right thing because it’s the right thing. You grow, listen to others…fuck up, take your licks, learn. And at the end of it all you hopefully do better. My family plays a part—an important one. But I…I’ve got to put in the work. Me.” Ross sighed, long and heavy. “You know you don’t have to, Stark. You’re so loaded your grandchildren’s grandchildren won’t have to work a day in their lives. You could give that suit of yours to someone else and take a backseat. Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes would be exceptional. Even I can’t fault his record.” “Yeah…I’m wrestling with that, too. But it’s not just me, General. You could retire tomorrow. And with your record you’ll be buried in so much metal I could make another suit from it.” Ross snorted at that. He toyed with the shot glass before setting down and pushing it away. The old CRT hanging from the wall in the corner showed a replay of yesterday’s baseball game. Howard used to promise to take him to one—never did. Something was always more important. “If you know about Project Rebirth then you know about…what else is out there, I’m guessing.” “I know we’re not alone.” “I just wanted our kids to be safer, Stark. That’s all—that’s all. Then it all got twisted up and fucked.” Ross paused. “I chose Blonsky because he was one of us—he understood the life. Highly decorated—well trained. He was on our side. But what came out of him was an abomination. It makes you think, Stark; makes you really think.” “Abomination. Fitting.” The silence between them stretched miles. The bartender was humming along with the juke—some old country thing where the singer probably lost his woman, house, farm, and dog and not even in that order. The General suddenly asked, “You a fan of Captain America?” “Hated him. But those’re my daddy issues talking.” “I used to look up to him. Old Man served in the Second World War and told me all about his exploits. I used to think, 'that’s it.’ That’s proof that everything we stand for is right. And if we had more of him? It would be better for everyone. Conflicts would end so much quicker with less bloodshed. And if they were hurt they would be able to heal. No more corpses being left out to bake and swell in the sun.” “That would suck for the other guys, considering our track record with war crimes. But as long as America’s dominance is assured, am I right?” “You and I both know that war’s inevitable, but if—no. No.” Ross pressed his fingers against closed eyes. “That’s that old fool in me flapping his gums. All I’ve done was cause…hurt.” “The road to Hell.” “Heh, indeed.” Ross ran a hand over his mouth. “I’ve seen some shit, Thunderbolt. It made me question what we’re really doing on this dirt ball hurtling through space.” “What are we doing…hm,” Ross murmured. “What am I doing? What if it’s too late for me?” “Figured you were the type to rest when you’re dead.” “…I thought the same. But when you catch on that you’ve become what you’ve hated—shit, maybe you’ve been projecting all along.” Ross turned to face him, finally, with his brow furrowed. “Now I’m not one to get all touchy or sit with these sort of things, and God knows it’s not like I could have told this to anyone else—they’d have thought I’d’ve lost it.” “Happy to be a sounding board for your thoughts, General.” “You have given me a lot to think about, I suppose. But why are you here, Stark? Really? "Like I said, General. Most I can do is work on doing better. Eventually, we will, all of us will, have to question what it really means being American; or, I should say, being human.”

Have Time — Will Travel by flower-of-el (NibelungVelocity)

#wow unexpected convo between tony and ross #like seriously #tony trying to understand him #mcu fanfiction #ironstrange #before reading this I didn't realize Tony and Ross can have something in common

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lyon-beast-king · 2 years ago

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snakeofgarlemald:

“A…mild vacation?” Ugh…..no he wanted to do something that would keep his mind active while healing, not doing anything that wasn’t helping the war effort. Though his ears were down still since that actually sounds like a bit of what they did in the academy though minus the broken bones of sorts. “Trust me, I won’t commander….I didn’t like the breaks that the academy offered….” But hearing as Lyon told him to be smarter and wiser, before blinking at what he said next, he bit his lip slightly since he wanted to prove himself but guess he would need to be more wisdom then strength. After all, he wasn’t build for strength but speed and skill instead with how he trained with a lance.

Yet as the commander spoke up more, Menenius’ peach eyes focused on Lyon, staying quiet since he really did want to try and climb the ranks but he knew he would need to work hard at it to happen. Hearing when he would need to focus on others and himself more, a leader knew his place as well….which was all to true. Basch and the others made it look so easy but they’ve been doing this for so long that it was probably second nature by now. Straightening up the best he could without ripping his stitches out, Menenius glanced to the side since he definitely had a lot to learn before he could even begin to assume the role. Bringing his ears back up as his eyes focused onto Lyon once more, the younger elezen nodded gently.

“Crystal clear commander…….” He then shut his mouth before thinking a small bit before opening his mouth back up, with his face softening up. “Could…..you tell the others that I’m awake? I’m sure I made both Basch and Noah worried……..” Though maybe Sartauvoir as well? Honestly hard to tell really with him.

“That’s right, with you stuck in bed, you may as well find some way to enjoy it. Read a book, write, take naps, hell, whatever you do on your spare time.” For him it would be naps, or just leaving the med area and just call it a day and sleep it off in the stalls before going back to work. Not the best way to do things, but hey it worked for him so far. “Good, because honestly, I don’t care much for carrying injured men and women around, much less dead ones. I rather not make a habit of that.”

Did Menenius have it in him to be a leader? Can’t say. He was however a skilled fight, and had a smart brain on that body of his. What more, he also had a good heart... More experience...better fighter...who knows, maybe he can replace him or Sartauvoir or some other chum when the day comes. Who knows, may not be a war to worry over then...hopefully...

“Attah boy.” Lyon goes over and gently pats the boy on the shoulder. “Now get some rest. I expect a top and proper recovery from you.” Turning, the Beast King walks away before stopping as he looks over before looking away and waves. “Will do, now do as your told by the medics.” With that, he walks out of the room.

‘ l i f t e d ‘

My muse has just been grievously injured…. Send me ‘ l i f t e d ‘ for my muse’s reaction to yours picking them up and carrying them to safety.

Seven hells, why did he have a raging headache.....and why did his eye....no everything hurt? Attempt to open his eyes, he felt himself floating though the sounds of explosions and fighting echoed in the distance until Menenius barely came too again as one good eye opened and oh look, Lyon was there....and he was about to get motion sickness since was he in Lyon's arms or on his beast? Honestly he was attempting to remember what happened and oh that's right..... The blast from his reaper as he defended both Noah and Lyon from an attempted enemy ambushed which in turn blasted him straight to a wall.

Hells, how long had he been out for? Even attempting to breath hurt as he winced in pain, gritting his teeth as his one good peach eye attempted to focus on the elder of them. "....b-both....both of you....are safe?"

#snakeofgarlemald #beast of bojza v;

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ohtobeleah · 2 years ago

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I just absolutely love this NCIS series. So much. I’m wondering if Ziva will ever make an appearance? Rooster would be both terrified and admirable of her but also be so concerned because reader is suddenly so into her hand to hand combat training

Ah, this is so bad but this is what I came up with. But anyway here’s a little update and the NCIS series Masterlist

Oh yes. No Ziva is definitely around. I think you’re right though, she’d fucking scare the shit out of Bradley. And I could see you upping your gym sessions a little more frequently after Bradley proposes.

We need to get one thing straight people—Bradley Bradshaw doesn’t regret proposing. He’d never regret a decision like that. He knew he wanted to spend his entire life with you from the minute he first met you. But he did propose out of sheer terror that he’d never get to if he didn’t do it immediately.

“I almost didn't come home this time.” It was a sentence you never wanted to hear but were still thankful enough to hear him say it. It was and would always be better than the alternative. The home calls all military men and women dreaded. The one where officials inform you of a loss. “And it made me realise that I now have someone to leave behind.”

It had been keeping you awake at night. The thought of something happening to Bradley that could take him away from you. He’d told you in full confidence everything that had happened—full disclosure, no confidentiality. Fuck the rules. It had set off a trigger inside you—for him you had to be better, be smarter, train harder. You didn’t want to leave your fiancé behind. There were things you could learn and upskill in to protect yourself. That could give you a better chance of coming home to Bradley every day.

“Ah it’s our resident Flyboy—“ DiNozzo beamed as he spun on his chair. Gibbs couldn’t hide his smirk that had crept onto his face as he walked side by side with Rooster, having collected him at security. Over the years Bradley had really taken a liking to Gibbs. Sure, they had a not so great start but the terrifying father had warmed up to the Aviator who stole his daughters heart.

Gibbs had taken Rooster shooting a handful of times, only threatening to wipe all traces of him from the face of the earth if he ever hurt you only once or twice. But sure enough as time pressed on and Bradley stuck around, Gibbs really did start to treat Bradley Bradshaw like a son he never had, and he had a new found respect for the lieutenant when he was calling him late at night before boarding his plane to Washington to ask him for your hand in marriage. Bradley was gonna do it anyway, regardless of what Gibbs had said—but he wanted to talk to your dad first purely because he was nervous and couldn’t talk to his own.

“What brings you in?”

“Brought you guys some lunch.” Bradley’s dumping the plastic bag full of burgers and fries on DiNozzo's desk. “And came to see my girl” Looking around, Rooster could usually pick you in a crowd. But today? You weren’t around. “She around or?”

“She’s in the gym with Ziva—“ Gibbs replied as he sat with a slight huff at his desk. “Training session, hand to hand combat.”

“She’s been doing that a lot hasn’t she?” McGee questioned as he sauntered over to grab a burger. “I mean it’s probably not a bad thing it’s just I don’t know what would have changed to make her suddenly wanna be a—“

“Certifiable badass?” Tony is smirking as Rooster stood with his arms crossed. Gibbs sent him a look of concern and he instantly knew what this was about. The goddamn uranium mission. “Gibbs knows what she’s doing, it’s proud just some phase, like when she got those stupid sea monkeys for her desk that died like a week later.” Bradley knew better than to know this was just a phase.

“I think it might have something to do with the last mission I was on—“ Clearing his throat with a cough before looking around the room. “She’s been a little off since I came back from it.” Rooster wasn’t about to out the fact he’d told you every small detail about that special detachment. No fucking way not with Leroy Jethro Gibbs sitting in his peripheral vision. “Think it might just be a reaction to something I said, accidentally planted in her head—“ Running his hand down his face with a small sigh, Bradley turned to the agents who shared a sympathetic look with him. Every single man in that room would go above and beyond for you—it was just a little sad how blissfully unaware just how far you’d go for them. “Uh, how do I get to the gym?”

“Floor four, take the elevator at the rear and it’s the first door on your right, if you find yourself in the morgue you’ve gone too far.” Rooster just stared at Gibbs with a stone cold face, watching the old man chuckle. He liked messing with the kid. A lot.

“Thanks pops—“ Rooster tapped Gibbs on the shoulder twice before he left, Gibbs returned the small gesture of affection to Rooster's hand, tapping him back once before he walked away. Making his way down to the gym. He got lost—but inevitably ended up in the place you needed to be. He didn’t come to your workplace very often, but on occasion when he knew you weren’t working a major case, he’d stop by security for visitors tag and call Jethro to come collect him.

Bradley wanted to make his appearance known a lot earlier than he did. But he got caught up in watching you train self defense. Sitting by the door with a small plastic cup of water in his hand, Bradley watched you and Ziva spar. Again and again and again you both ran through sequences and various types of martial arts training. The former Mossad agent had always given Bradley heart palpitations—and not in the oh she’s cute kinda way. More in the, He know for a fact she knows a pressure point that could instantly kill me.

“Not good enough!” Ziva hissed at you as you fell to the ground. She’d kicked your legs out from under you and sent you flying towards the ground. Your arse colliding with the harsh rubber sparring mat. “Get up, quickly. You’d be dead by now if this was real.” Ziva wasn’t lying. You wanted her to be harsh with you, be honest and make you vulnerable because that’s how it would really be. “There’s no second chances when you hesitate for even a split second.” Huh, she sounded like Maverick—just more terrifying. Bradley was entrance. Terrified nonetheless, but completely fixated on the session going on.

With a groan, you slowly stood up. Fixing your stance and giving her a nod to say you were good. Setting your hands in a defensive position before Ziva was coming at you with blows left and right. Right hooks, upper cuts, jabs and powerful crosses that you did your best to block and defend against. Grunting and sweating as you ducked and spun around—kicking her legs out from under her. Returning to sender what she had down to you. Sending her down as you pressed a knee into her shoulder.

“How was that?” You gifted her a hand up from the ground. Taking your hand as you pulled Ziva up, she smirked. She was impressed but she’d never tell you that. She wanted you to believe that there was never a level of confidence that could be reached that would one hundred percent guarantee survival.

“Sloppy at best but we can work on it.” Ziva smirked as she turned her head to where Bradley had been sitting. She knew when he’d arrived but didn’t want to break your concentration. “I think your white boy is here?” Turning to where Ziva's eyeline had gone you were met with none other than your fiancé. Chuckling to yourself as you turned back to her you tried to hide your joy.

“I think you mean Flyboy.” It had become a nickname that stuck around the office. Tony, Tim, Ziva and even your dad would all take turns referring to Bradley as Flyboy. Sure, from time to time a Rooster would slip past. Lieutenant was common and Bradshaw was often the baseline on any given day. But Flyboy? It stuck long term. “But you aren’t wrong for that either.” Making your way over to where Rooster stood watching with curious eyes. “Hey! What are you doing here?” With the biggest smile you could conjure, you greeted Bradley with open arms.

“Brought you and the guys some lunch.” Kissing your flushed cheek as he wrapped his arms around you. “Got bored, the house is super clean though.” It had just been one of those days where everything seemed a little overwhelming. You were and always would be Bradley’s satellite though. “What’s with the uh—the kickboxing and self defense maneuvering ?” Bradley knew he knew the answer. Oh he definitely knew the answer. But he wanted to hear you say it first.

He wanted you to be open with him, something was brewing in the incredible mind of yours. He could tell. But you had somewhat shut off the past few weeks. Not as open as you normally were. Keeping something, harboring your own existential crisis that you should have let Bradley in on. After all, it was his honesty and his own breakdown that had sent you into this spiral.

“She’s lacking in her self defense—“ Ziva piped up as she walked towards where you and Bradley stood. In reaction Bradley took a small step back. Ziva just chuckled to herself and shook her head. “Relax Bradshaw I’m done for the day—unless you wanna go a round?”

“I’m good thanks Ziva.” There had been a time where McGee had tricked Rooster into a sparring session with Ziva. He was out cold in a matter of minutes. The former Mossad Agent had accidentally gone a little too hard knowing Bradley was three times her size. She thought he could take it. He couldn’t. That was the first time they’d ever met, that moment still clearly etched into stone on Roosters mind. “It’s good to see you though.”

“Ziva’s just been helping me up my skills Roo—“ Ah fuck, there it was. Roo. You only ever called Bradley Roo in two situations. When you were trying to seduce him or when you were hiding something. He was pretty sure you weren’t trying to seduce him either—so it had to be that you were hiding something. “Gotta be ready for anything, you know.”

“Lieutenant Bradshaw as much as this reunion of ours has warmed my heart, I heard lunch?”

“I left the bag on Tony’s desk, I can’t promise there’s anything left—“ He didn’t get to finish before Ziva was taking off. Starving and knowing DiNozzo wouldn’t leave a crumb of evidence behind. “She’s intense isn’t she.”

“But a valuable asset when it comes to training.” You sighed, heading over to the water station. “I feel like I broke my tailbone.”

“With the way you hit that mat I wouldn’t be surprised.” Bradley taunted as he followed you. “Hey listen, you aren’t doing all this because of the—“

“I don’t really wanna talk about it.” Oh yeah he had you now.

“Baby—“ he cooed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he stood behind you. His chin resting on your shoulder. “I can’t have you over exerting yourself like this on the chance of a what if.”

“It’s not a what if Bradley, it’s a when—“ You sighed, turning in Bradley’s arms as he moved them to wrap around the back of your neck. “For both of us, it’s not a matter of if but when.”

“That’s a grim outlook.” You didn’t have a comeback, simply sinking into Bradley’s chest, your ear pressing against his heart. “You gotta dial down the training, just a little—it’s not healthy and it’s worrying me to know that the only reason you’re doing it is because I projected.”

“It was a fair projection though, I mean you were right. When the day comes you don’t make it back or when the day comes that I don’t come home—“ Pausing for a moment to look lovingly into Bradley’s eyes. Drink in the sight of him, vomit every small detail to memory. “I wanna be as prepared for whatever could come my way.”

“Can I level with you for a moment?” Leading you into the middle of the sparring ring, Bradley kicked off his shoes and undid his belt. Watching with a small smirk you watched as he took a defensive stance. You followed in return. “Sure, the risks are high.” Rooster made the first move, coming at you with a hand as he stepped forward. Still talking casually as you ducked his blow. “But what about all the other when’s?”

“You mean like when we get married?” You smirked as you made contact with Bradley’s side. A gentle groan escaping as a wave of seriousness cascaded down his face. Oh you were on.

“Or when we finally buy a house together so I don’t feel like I’m all up in your space.” Rooster was talking to you like you were the sun and moon to him. Which you very much were. But the way he was coming at you with blows and punches and kicks—told a different story. He was trying to show you that when the time came, you’d do everything in your ability to fight back.

“Or when we have a couple of kids running around.” You groaned when you dodged a particularly harsh warning hit to the side. Swinging under to try and catch Bradley off guard by kicking his legs out. But he jumped you. “Dick—“

“Do better, You got this.” It was the encouragement coming from Bradley that kept you going until finally you had him down on his arse in defeat. A sudden thud rang out through the gym as you stood towering over your fiancé. Huffing and panting because he’d put up a good fight. “Damn—“

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You offered Bradley a hand up, but he pulled you down on top of him. “Babe!—“

“Please don’t get caught up worrying about things you can’t control. I wanna enjoy you while I’ve got a chance to.”

“You almost didn’t come home.” It was true. He almost didn’t. And Bradley had fallen victim to the existential crisis that was ever looming doom before. It was a consistent and pressing dear you both shared. Losing one another. But it couldn’t be all consuming—if you let the fear of losing a loved one consume you, there wouldn’t be enough room left to love them while you had the chance.

“Key word being almost.” Kissing your lips softly as you straddled his waist. “I will always do my best to come home to you, so long as you promise me the same.”

****~****~****~****~****~****~****~****~****~

Tag: @auroraboreallisfine @tigerfan24 @atarmychick007 @rosee-sensuelle @unhingedhousehold @belowtheharddeck300 @daisyhollyxox @luckyladycreator2 @86laura11 @justanothermagicalsara @taytaylala12 @rhirhikingston

#bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x f!reader #ncis fandom #ncis fanfiction

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caitimetravels · 3 years ago

Text

she’s insignificant

chapter 2: welcome home

the umbrella academy x (fem) reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of drugs and alcohol, poor parenting

masterlist

“number eight! this is serious! if you do not train properly you will not be allowed to join your siblings on missions.”

“number eight! that’s not how you behave!”

“no, number eight! how many times must you do this before you get it right?”

“no! not like that, number eight! you must be quicker, smarter, stronger! you’ll be a liability”

“no! again, number eight!”

“number eight!”

she wished it was stop. the yelling. the shouting. the insults. the pain. the training. all of it. her head hurt. she could feel the anger swirling around, growing. control. she needed control. relax.

she took a deep breath. again. again. she pushed herself over and over until she collapsed. she worked herself to the bone only to always be left with disapproving stares. the scowl. the glare. and then she was alone, forced to pick up the broken pieces and put herself together. she didn’t have her other siblings. their family dynamic wasn’t much of a family dynamic but just once she wished one of them could be there. even just to see what she was going through. it hurt that she was alone. she hated alone.

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“um..” luther slowly stood, unsure. “i guess we should get this started” he looked around at his siblings sitting in parlour. they all sat separately with klaus making drinks at the bar in the back.

“are we having a family meeting?” y/n stepped into the room, confused. she paused as realisation crossed over their faces. “..you forgot me”

“sorry, y/n, we didn’t mean-” allison started, trying to defend them. y/n shook her head.

“no, no, don’t apologise. it’s okay.. let’s just get this over with” she waved off any concern, taking a seat beside vanya. in her lap sat a familiar book.

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“you’ll be okay” ben spoke softly, gently bandaging y/n’s arm. he gave her a small smile. the pair sat in the back of the library, secluded and separate. the others were too wrapped up in themselves to care.

vanya stepped over a moment later. she frowned at the tears on y/n’s cheeks. taking a seat beside her she offered them the cookies she had stolen from the kitchen. they weren’t meant to have any until dessert but ben and vanya found this much more important. y/n sniffled, taking the cookie in her good arm.

“thanks v” she gave a watery smile, eating a big bite of the cookie to stop the sobs about to escape her mouth. ben and vanya shared a frown over her head.

“should we read something?” ben offered, pulling a random book off the shelf behind him. y/n merely nodded, she needed this to calm down her raging emotions. these two were the only two who understood. if her emotions went haywire so would her powers.

“hm, little women? i didn’t think dad would have this” ben smiled at the cover.

“pogo got it for me” y/n murmured softly, listening to her brother’s soothing voice as he read. she smiled, they were always able to calm her down.

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“so, i figured we could have some sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown, say a few words” luther started again, “just at dad’s favourite spot”

“dad had a favourite spot?” allison asked, confused.

“yeah, you know. under the oak tree” luther nodded, eyebrows furrowing. “we used to sit out there all the time.. did none of you ever do that?”

“will there be refreshments? tea, scones” klaus interrupted, walking to join them with a cigarette between his fingers and a glass of alcohol in his other hand. “cucumber sandwiches are always a winner” he waltzed over beside y/n who smiled at his laid-back attitude.

“what? no” luther shook his head, “and put that out, you know dad didn’t allow smoking in here”

“is that my skirt?” allison questioned, looking down at klaus’ attire.

“what?” he mumbled distracted. he put his glass down before turning around. “oh, yeah, this. i found it in your room. it’s a little dated but its very breathy on the.. bits” he gestured.

“listen up” luther put on his leader voice, commanding as usual. “there’s still some things we need to discuss, alright?”

“like what?” diego snapped, obviously sick of this.

“like the way he died”

“and here we go” diego rolled his eyes and luther glared at him.

“i don’t understand.. i thought they said it was a heart attack?” vanya spoke up, confused. klaus plopped down onto the couch now, wrapping his arm around y/n.

“what? he had a heart attack?” y/n’s eyebrows furrowed, she hadn’t been told that. they all looked at her, surprised.

“you didn’t know?” allison asked softly,

“no? you did?”

“that’s only according to the coroner” luther chipped in, still pushing his theory.

“well, wouldn’t they know?” vanya raised an eyebrow.

“theoretically”

“theoretically?” allison asked.

“look, i’m just saying at the very least something happened. the last time that i talked to dad he sounded strange”

“oh, tell us please” klaus gurgled through his drink, not at all serious. y/n would have laughed if she didn’t see the real reason luther was bringing this up. he thought one of them did it.

“strange how?” allison continued to push, incredulous.

“he sounded on edge, told me i should be careful who to trust” luther frantically tried to convince them.

“luther” diego sighed, standing “he was a paranoid, bitter old man. he was starting to lose what was left of his marbles”

“no” he quickly shook his head, turning to him. “he must have known something was going to happen. look” he looked over at klaus. “i know you don’t like to do it but i need you to talk to dad”

klaus rolled around, disagreeing, “i can’t just call dad in the afterlife and be like dad can you stop playing tennis with hitler for a moment and take a quick call” he waved his cigarette around, sitting up and letting go of y/n.

“since when? that’s your thing”

“i’m not in the right frame of mind!”

“you’re high?” allison looked up,

“yeah, yeah!” klaus laughed, nodding his head, “i mean how are not listening to this nonsense?”

“well, sober up, this is important” klaus merely sighed, “then there’s the issue of the missing monocle”

diego scoffed, “who’s give a shit about a stupid monocle?”

“exactly, it’s worthless” luther was only digging himself a bigger hole, “so, whoever took it i think it was personal. someone close to him, someone with a grudge”

“yes, cause that’s all we need” y/n rolled her eyes, exasperated “more grudges”

“where are you going with this?” klaus narrowed his eyes, confused.

“well, isn’t it obvious, klaus?” diego sneered up at luther, “he thinks one of us killed dad”

luther opened his mouth to deny it but nothing came out. it was true.

“and i bet your top suspect is little y/n” diego pointed a finger right at the said girl. she froze.

“what?”

“you do!” klaus sat back, shocked.

“how could you think that?” vanya stared in disbelief.

y/n stood abruptly and everyone watched as her eyes turned black. the same way they used to when she had trouble controlling her emotions. they watched as she quickly shook her head, storming out.

“great job luther” diego mocked, “way to lead” then he begun to walk away.

“that’s not what i’m saying” he tried to defend himself but nobody listened.

“you’re crazy man, you’re crazy.. crazy” klaus stood too, picking up his drink. vanya went to walk away, following diego.

“i’m not finished” luther attempted to stop them.

“okay well sorry, i’m just gonna go help y/n murder mom, i’ll be right back” he commented sarcastically, walking away.

“that’s not what i’m saying-” it was no use.

y/n curled up beside ben’s statue, book pressed against her chest. she took deep breaths, trying to regain control. her breath came out shaky as she rocked slowly. eventually she relaxed, leaning into the side of the statue. her cheek pressed against the cold concrete. with a final sigh she looked up at him.

“hey..” she spoke softly, “i brought our book” she gave a weak chuckle, showing the statue the book she had been cradling.

“i finished again.. should i start again?”

diego stood in the doorway, watching her talk. he frowned, she was so sweet. it wasn’t her fault she was born with such a horrible curse. he understood why she got along so well with ben, they both hated their powers. it made training unbearable for them. she begun to read aloud, still leaning into the statue as she sat on the gravel covered floor. with a sigh he walked away, she would be okay, she just needed time.

time didn’t heal y/n, no matter how much she wished it would. she didn’t have anybody, everybody left her. she had to get over everything all by herself. her words started to come out stuttered, her voice cracked. slowly she begun to sob, tears wetting the pages of her book. she wiped them from her face, standing up. she had to be calm.

she spared one last glance at the statue before walking away.

--------------------------------------------------

“number eight, you must always keep your emotions in check” reginald scolded, glancing up from his notebook. he scribbled something else, ignoring her watery eyes.

“b-but i can’t” she sobbed out, she was young. her siblings were allowed to show emotion why couldn’t she?

“then you are weak!” reginald snapped his book shut, raising his eyes to glare at her. the words shouldn’t have hurt as much as they did. she was never enough, she was always going to be weak. she needed to do better, to be better. to be strong.

“emotions, number eight” the girl supressed her smile at the name her mother had just given her. he wouldn’t even use it. her face fell blank.

“emotions, number eight” the girl took a deep breath, no anger. nothing. you cannot feel. she closed her eyes for a moment, controlling her urge to destroy something. she opened them to see a confused diego. this wasn’t how she was meant to react, he had stolen the ring her mother had given her. she just walked away.

“emotions, number eight” she caught ben’s eye across the table. he nodded softly. she breathed calmly, no dessert. she was weak, she didn’t deserve dessert. five frowned from beside her, looking between her and their father. something was wrong.

“emotions, number eight” reginald turned on her. she stood, hands gripping the table until her knuckles turned pale. how could he let five go? as she raised her head she heard gasps from her siblings. pogo and reginald shared a look as she glared at the latter, taking a moment to calm herself. it wasn’t working. she was struggling to keep her emotions at bay, she couldn’t supress them. “y/n..” vanya whispered as she ran from the table. she couldn’t do it. he was gone and she hadn’t stopped him.

“emotions, number eight” she couldn’t do it. not this time. she shook her head. her eyes filled with tears. she couldn’t. “number eight! emotions!” she shook her head again, all she could feel was pain. it was her fault. she let him die. her siblings must hate her. her father hates her. ben would hate her. she let him die. she watched him die.

“number eight! your emotions!” reginald’s voice got louder and she heard herself scream. everything was crumbling. he was gone, it was her fault. “number one, do it”

it was all.. her fault..

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on her way to the staircase she paused. her eyes lingered on the painting. five’s painting. she felt herself move without wanting to. she stepped into the room, looking up at her brother sadly.

“i’m sorry” she frowned, “i’m so sorry, five. i shouldn’t have let you go. i should have gone after you. i’m sorry, you must be so alone and i lied. i’m sorry for lying.. i should have done better, i should have listened to dad.. i couldn’t bring you back and it’s all my fault. it’s always my fault.. i’m sorry five, i’m so sorry..”

“sweetie?” she looked over to see grace. “who are you apologising to? did something happen to you?” the blonde robot walked over, glancing over her to see if she had hurt herself.

“oh, no, it’s okay mom” she smiled fakely, trying to reassure her mother. “i was just thinking out loud. nothing to worry about”

“oh, alright, sweetie” she smiled again, “how about something to eat?”

“i’m okay, thanks. i think i’m just going to rest” grace nodded, allowing her to leave.

she wouldn’t be okay, not until she could stop blaming herself. she took one last look at five' picture before she closed her eyes, trying to stop her tears. when she opened them she appeared in her bedroom. she quickly shut the door, locking it. at least in here she couldn’t do anymore damage.

--------------------------------------------------

“number eight” reginald’s voice was disappointed but y/n couldn’t find it in herself to care. so what if she was a failure, she had always been one anyways. “you are no longer allowed to go on missions with your siblings”

she didn’t raise her head. he wasn’t done. this is what she deserved. “you will instead be working on locating number five”

she froze, staring up at him in shock.

“what?”

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a flash of blue light outside her window broke her out of her thoughts. she stood from her bed, glancing down at the courtyard. it couldn’t be..

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 3 years ago

Text

Imagine being Azula’s friend but secretly dating Zuko behind her back

One of the first things you and Azula bonded over was your annoying brothers. Azula told you how her brother had stolen one of her best friends away from her and you related to that. Your twin brother was none other than Sokka of the water tribe, who was also very popular with women. Most of the women you knew liked him, from Yue to Toph to Suki to Ty lee! It sometimes felt like you were the second attraction in a friendship and so you and Azula quickly became close over your shared frustrations.

Then....you betrayed her.

Well, betrayal is a bit dramatic but maybe not given how upset she'd been when Mai and Zuko started dating. You knew that had been hard for Azula to process. How difficult it had been wondering if her friends really liked her or just wanted access to her brother. So when you started liking Zuko you didn’t plan on acting on it at all. Then Mai broke up with him.

Zuko was around at yours quite often, whenever he visited the water tribe he stayed in your home and when you visited the fire nation he extended the same hospitality. So throughout the years, you just naturally got closer and closer until....it happened. You started hanging out just the two of you and these occasions felt very date-like until Zuko just outright asked you out. You liked him and told yourself one date was fine, what harm could a single date do? But then as you kept seeing each other and one date soon progressed into many many more you knew your time to do the right thing and tell Azula you were dating her brother was approaching.

However the idea of doing that idea terrified you. You guessed Azula wouldn’t take it well and didn’t want to lose your friendship with her because of your relationship with Zuko. You wouldn’t break up with Zuko just to make her happy but you also didn’t want to lose Azula’s friendship, so when Katara’s birthday arose you were fairly nervous. There was going to be a large party and all of Katara’s friends were coming...which included Zuko and Azula. You hadn’t been together with everyone since you and Zuko started dating so you had no idea how it would feel. The whole time you and Zuko would have to convincingly act like you weren’t a couple and not make anyone at the party suspicious of the two of you. So when Zuko’s ship got in you fixed your eyes on Azula and tried not to stare at him any more than usual. You greeted him formally and didn’t admire him as you usually would. You fell in step with Azula and decided just to focus on her. It wasn’t hard, you were best friends and very close...however fate was not on your side. You got seated across from him at dinner which felt like some sick punishment and struggled not to get lulled into conversation with him. It didn’t help that Zuko was in a playful mood. He kept making comments about the things you’d done on your date and then sending you sly looks across the table. When you met his eye he smirked blatantly and you lightly kicked him under the table. That only made Zuko chuckled and look adorable so you sighed and decided to just keep your eyes down the whole time to survive dinner.

However, Zuko had no intention of stopping his teasing. After dinner you set about preparing the party for Katara tomorrow and having sent Sokka, Aang, Suki, Azula and Toph on their assigned jobs turned to your job of decorating. You were hanging streamers in the living room when you felt a hand curl around your waist. “Need some help there?” Zuko asked moving closer and he leaned up over you to hang it. “I could have done that myself” you smiled turning to face him and Zuko shrugged “I know you could’ve, but then I wouldn’t have been able to do this”. Zuko gently kissed your neck trailing down to your collar bone making you sigh. “Zuko...stop” you said faint heartedly and Zuko sensed that smirking "I don’t want to and you don’t want me to either, I can tell by how softly you said my name" he smiled "it’s been so long since we’ve had any time together". Your skin erupted in goosebumps and a shiver went down your spine as Zuko pressed closer against you. But you knew how badly this could end if literally anyone walked in. So swiftly you grabbed Zuko’s hands and twisted your way out of them. You held them tightly in one hand so he couldn’t try and slink around you again and used the other to make him look at you "Zuko we can’t okay, not on this trip. God knows i want to, i’ve missed you too but there’s too much that could go wrong i’m sorry". Zuko sighed but nodded his head "don’t worry i understand". Zuko’s shoulders sagged and you knew your insistance on keeping this quiet was difficult for him. "Thank you for understanding" you said hugging him quickly "i know it can’t be easy for you and I appreciate the effort you're going to for me". Zuko smiled resting his head on top of yours "it’s fine, i’d do a lot more for you if you asked but promise me it won’t always be like this....we will tell everyone soon?". You gulped but nodded pulling away "i promise, i will tell Azula...soon!". Zuko nodded “I believe you” and let his hands drop away from you. Not a moment later Sokka and Aang appeared in the room making the two of you jump. “Zuko just the man we need! We were thinking of making an ice sculpture, fancy some fire bending?”. Zuko nodded “sure” and with a last glance to you left the room.

Hours later the party preparations finished you returned to your room which you were sharing with Azula for her visit. “Sokka made me blow up balloons” she said angrily “something about fire benders being full of hot air”. You smirked at your brother’s nerve when Azula’s next sentence wiped it off your face. "Also I think Zuko’s dating someone again" Azula said softly and you paused. "Ow really?" you asked and she nodded "he’s been spending a suspicious amount of time in the southern water tribe lately. Lots of visits which he claims are diplomatic but I can’t work out what he actually does here! He doesn’t know that many people and so it got me thinking, y/n do you think your brother and mine....". "No Sokka's still with Suki" you said shaking your head. Azula sighed “and it’s obviously not Katara, she and Aang are basically married, have you seen him hanging around anyone else? He doesn’t know many people so it should be easy to spot". You paused pretending to think but were really just trying to buy yourself time. "Honestly i don’t pay much attention to him when he visits" you said cleverly covering your back "but i will from now on and let you know". "Thank you y/n" Azula smiled. You smiled back relieved Azula didn’t suspect anything and let out a large breath you’d been holding for this entire conversation. You were now more than ready for sleep and got into bed hurriedly. You laid your head on your pillow and closed your eyes utterly exhausted.

"Goodnight y/n" Azula called and you nodded. You were very sleepy and after a long yawn smiled "good night Zuko".

You realised the name you’d said seconds after it came out of your mouth.

You froze

As did azula.

"Did you just call me Zuko...". You blinked "did i? I’m sure i said Azula". Azula was quiet for 2 seconds before she shot up "it’s you!" she cried "you're the one my brother’s dating!". "No Azula that’s crazy!!! We'd just been discussing Zuko, that’s why he was on my mind!". Azula shook her head "you're lying! I can tell by the tone of your voice! You’re the new girlfriend aren’t you?". You sighed "Azula i’m sorry i was going to tell you...". "I can’t believe you" Azula yelled and suddenly the door opened. "What’s wrong?" Sokka and Zuko asked bursting in “we heard yelling” and Azula glared. "You! Couldn't just have Mai huh? Had to take another one of my friends? How about when you’re done with y/n you try things with Ty lee?". "Ow she told you...." Zuko frowned awkwardly. "No i worked it out!” Azula spat “Y/n accidentally uttered your name because she’s so lovesick" Azula cried "you both make me sick" and she strode away slamming the front door hard as she exited the house.

After Azula left you all looked at one another unsure what to do or say next. "So...you two are a thing?" Sokka asked and Zuko paused "yes...is your reaction going to be as bad as Azula’s or can i go deal with her?". Sokka shook his head "go deal with her before she burns the village down”. Zuko went to move past Sokka when your brother put a hand to his chest "but come back and see me after, me and Katara will want to talk to you about dating our sister". Zuko surprisingly looked intimidated and nodded "I'll be right back". "Zuko wait i should come too" you called "this is as much my fault as yours". Zuko nodded "let’s go" and led you outside into the cold night after Azula.

You found Azula trekking in the snow and as she wasn’t in proper shoes you gained on her quickly. “Azula!” you called and she jumped. She looked around and glared “ow look the happy couple, how nice of you to grace me with your presence”. Zuko rolled his eyes “only you’d be so attention-seeking to make this about you”. “Attention seeking? Who’s the person who can’t form his own friendships or respect boundaries? No always have to date my friends, is it some weird way for you to gain power over me? A sad way to boost your ego?”. As Zuko and Azula went to square up to each other you stepped between them. “Alright enough the both of you! Zuko please go back to the house, i’ll handle this”. “But she...”. “Zuko please” you said sharply and he nodded “fine” and with a glare left. You watched him go before turning back to Azula. You’d been about to suggest you go home given that Azula was surely freezing out here in the middle of the night but Azula broke into a rant. "Everyone leaves me for him" she cried "Mai! My uncle! Mother! Even my father...after i was smarter, a better fire bender, more loyal and younger he still gave Zuko every little chance and only crowned me after Zuko literally ran away! When will i be good enough people don’t just choose him without a second thought for me?". "Azula i didn’t choose Zuko over you! Just because i like Zuko doesn’t mean i don’t like you still". "That may be true but this changes our friendship completely, it did with Mai! People always prioritise their partners over their friends so i’ll be second best once again". "Are you kidding?" you asked "Azula now i need you more than ever! Relationships aren’t when you ditch your friends, they’re when you need them the most! Who else are you going to go to for a break or a nice getaway? Who else is going to support and love you in only the platonic way a friend can? Who else can i complain about Zuko to when he annoys me or we fight?" you asked "they’re all things you need your friends for! Desperately and that’s going to be the same for me". "But when Mai dated him...". "But i’m not Mai" you smiled softly "Azula we are good friends, i won’t sideline you because of this. You mean just as much to me now as before i started dating Zuko". Azula huffed but you could see her melting. "So...how about we go inside, get some warm milk and talk a bit more about this huh?". You offered Azula your hand and she took it but she didn’t stop there. Azula threw her arms around you and hugged you tightly. "I’m partly doing this for the cold but thank you" she said softly "nobodies ever tried to make me feel supported when they've chosen Zuko, they just tell me to deal with it but you’re the first to try and reassure me and so i know you mean it, to still be my friend". "Of course" you smiled "you're my best friend!". Azula smiled and linked her arm through yours "i like that!”.

Zuko stared in awe as you and Azula returned grinning. "How did it go is everything okay?". You nodded "your extremely cool sister is fine with it". "Yes i thought this would be a great way to have an inside scoop on you zuzu". "She’s kidding i won’t talk to her about you...a lot". Zuko blinked "okay if everything's okay then i should go speak to Sokka and Katara, they’re waiting for me in the kitchen". Azula smiled "that’s a good idea, when you come back zuzu find me, i have some threats about what will happen if you hurt my best friend". You smiled at Azula and stepped to Zuko "good luck but don’t worry Sokka’s all bite, Katara’s the one to look out for but she has a big heart, just tell her how good a time we’ve had and you’ll be fine". "Good tips, any for my sister?". You smiled "Azula is one i have not worked out yet" you grinned "but i’m sure you’ll manage, you are the firelord after all". Zuko smirked and you patted his shoulder "after your appointment with my brother and sister and then your sister....you could always come find me in your room?". Zuko smiled "is that my motivation for surviving this?". You shrugged "you can think of it as that" and stepped away from him. Zuko watched you before sighing "alright let’s get this over with” he said loudly and strode towards the kitchen.

You turned back to Azula who raised an eyebrow at Zuko’s sudden confidence and she frowned. "Do i even want to know?" Azula asked and you shook your head "no". “Ow and don’t worry if I’m not in our room tonight”. “Euch Y/n!” Azula cried and you shrugged “what? I didn’t say why”. “I know why” she sighed before she smiled “at least I can have your bigger bed”. “Be my guest” you smiled, you had a firelord to get reacquainted with.

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multifandomlover01 · 3 years ago

Text

How the different boys from Band of Brothers and The Pacific react to you being insecure

Part 3 (taking a little break from BoB and going with the main Pacific Bois Leckie, Basilone and Sledge)

Robert Leckie:

• You thought Leckie was so smart. He was so well read, he wrote well too.

• You felt so dumb around him.

• You used to talk to him a lot about books and stuff like that when you first met, but since then you’ve fallen a bit silent.

• You thought he wouldn’t notice. You thought he wouldn’t care. But he did notice. And he does care.

• And he gets sad and wonders why you stopped talking to him. You were his one bright spot in this hellhole.

• He thought you always sold yourself short. He loved the way you talked about things. He thought you were so smart and eloquent.

• But when he asks you why you’ve stopped talking to him about books, you brush him off, saying you don’t know, that you just haven’t felt like it lately.

• But Leckie is having none of it. He can see the sadness in your eyes. It was the same sadness the gang had pointed out was in his eyes since your talks had stopped. He calls you out on your BS. You two argue for a bit until you lose it.

• You blew up at him even though you didn’t mean to.

• “Maybe I stopped talking to you about books because I’ve got nothing worth saying about them! You’re so much smarter than me. Why don’t you just admit it and stop bothering me about it?!”

• Leckie is a bit taken aback by this at first. He doesn’t know what to say. He has to process it for a second before he responds.

• “What do you mean you’re not smart? And your words don’t have worth?”

• “At least when compared to you.”

• “Who gives a shit about me and what I have to say?”

• “I do!”

• “Well…newsflash, I care about what you have to say too.”

• “You do?”

• “Of course! Why do you think I talk to you so much?”

• “But why?”

• “You have a unique perspective. I enjoy listening to you talk.”

John Basilone:

• Being John Basilone’s significant other was not easy.

• The hardest part about it was the women who threw themselves at him with you standing right next to him.

• You tried to brush it off.

• But in time you grew sad and insecure.

• You thought those women were so pretty.

• You thought John deserved better than you.

• But John surely didn’t, he thought the world of you.

• So he gets concerned when he notices you’ve been a bit distant lately.

• He asks you what’s wrong but you deny that anything is. But he knows you better than that. He knows something is up.

• He doesn’t want to push you, though. So he lets it go for the time being.

• It breaks his heart to see you so sad lately. He thinks about confronting you again, but he doesn’t have to.

• One night at a party, a particular woman wouldn’t leave John alone. He tried to keep an eye on you and not become distracted by the woman, but he wasn’t entirely successful. You had managed to slip away to the bathroom.

• John panicked a bit when he noticed you were missing. He excused himself from the woman (more like pried her off of him) and went looking for you.

• He asked everyone he could if they had seen you. He finally talked to a woman that saw you go into the bathroom as she left. She mentioned you’d been crying. She asked you if you were ok. You said you were fine, just that you were on your period (you were not) and sensitive to being around so many people (you are, but you feel comfortable and safe with John).

• John goes right into the woman’s bathroom, not caring if anyone walked in.

• He looked under the stalls and saw the one where you were (you were in the only occupied one).

• He called your name.

• “John? What’re you doing in the lady’s room? You shouldn’t be in here.”

• “I wanted to check on you, tesoro. I was concerned that you left suddenly and have been gone for so long. Are you alright?”

• “Yes, I’m fine. I just got a little overwhelmed.”

• “Why did you come in here? Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve left.”

• “You seemed busy. I didn’t want to bother you.” It came out harsher than you intended.

• John’s heart sank. He hated to think he was the reason you were like this. If he had known it was the women that were bothering you, he’d be more blunt about not being interested. He just didn’t want to be rude. He had a reputation to uphold.

• But his reputation be damned if upholding it meant you ended up alone in a bathroom stall crying. He’d do anything to make you happy. Anything.

• “I won’t bother with the women anymore. I’ll tell them to leave me alone. I’ll be more affectionate towards you to make the message that I’m taken more clear.”

• “But you can’t be rude. You have a nice guy reputation. You’re a golden boy, John. And you’re a Medal of Honor recipient. I’m just a girl from New Jersey. All of those other girls are so much prettier than me. You deserve to have one of them. Not me.”

• That was the last straw. John got down on the floor and crawled under the stall, but only just enough to look up at you. He was still on the floor on his stomach, not quite having enough room in the stall to come in any more and try to stand up in it. It looked like an uncomfortable position.

• “John! What the hell! You’ll get your uniform dirty!”

• “The uniform be damned, Y/N. I don’t care about the uniform. I don’t care about my reputation. I don’t care about all the other women. I only care about you.”

• Fresh tears began rolling down your cheeks. But these were happy tears.

• “Oh, John. Get out and stand up.”

• “Not until you promise to come out of this stall.”

• “I am, dummy, why do you think I told you to get out and stand up?”

• “Oh. Right. Sorry.”

• John crawled back out of the stall and stood up so you could unlock the door and come out.

• As soon as you did, John enveloped you in a hug. He kissed your head.

• “I love you, you know that?”

• “Yeah.”

• You left the party after that without a word to anyone (much to the protest of a couple of women and the host, but John ignored them) and spent the night at home snuggled together on the couch.

• John chose you. Over everything else. He will always choose you.

Eugene Sledge (feat. Snafu and Burgin more than intended oops):

• You were on the train going home with Eugene, Snafu, and Burgin. You were having a great time relaxing after the ordeal you’d been through.

• That was until a Marine from another division started looking at you curiously.

• You mentioned it to the guys in a low voice so the man wouldn’t hear you.

• They all glanced at him every so often. He kept staring at you.

• “Is there a problem?” Burgin finally asked the man.

• “No. No problem.”

• You all went back to your business for a bit.

• But the man continued to look at you. And the guys continued to look at him.

• “Are you sure there isn’t a problem, Private? Because it kind of seems like there is. You keep looking at my friend here and you’re making her uncomfortable.”

• “Your friend is wearing a Marine uniform.”

• “No shit, Sherlock.” Snafu quipped.

• “Why is she wearing a uniform?”

• “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because she’s a Marine?” Eugene sassed.

• The man gestured to the small cross stitched on the left arm of your uniform, which was facing the man. “You were a corpsman?”

• “Yes.” You replied.

• “What were you doing as a Marine corpsman?”

• “Saving lives. You got a problem with that?”

• “You all trust a woman in that position?”

• “Absolutely. Ain’t no better corpsman in the entire USMC.” Snafu praised

• “They’re a bit too delicate for combat, aren’t they?”

• “I think she faired alright. Did her best. Saved a lot of lives. Survived. Can’t ask for more than that.” Burgin said.

• “But how can you expect a woman to do a man’s job?”

• “I did a man’s job just fine, thank you very much.”

• “You never cracked under pressure?”

• “No. whether man or woman, it doesn’t matter if someone does in combat. No person should be expected to endure combat and come out of it completely unscathed.”

• “I’d appreciate if you’d quit bothering our friend. She didn’t have to justify herself to you at all, but she did so anyway because that’s who she is, a very nice person. Whether or not your satisfied with her answers is your own problem.”

• The man grumbled unintelligibly before returning to his business. He no longer looked at you or bothered you.

• But you were put out. You knew not everyone approved of a woman being in that position (or being in the Marines at all). You tried to brush it off as best you could. But a little voice in the back of your head always asked: “Am I good enough?”

• And no matter how many times you or someone else answered yes to that question, you just couldn’t help but come back to it.

• Eugene noticed you looked sad and distant (you’d stop engaging in conversation as well) and frowned.

• He leaned over the table and touched your arm. You snapped (moved?) your head in his direction (lol, not like that, not violently).

• “Hey. Don’t pay attention to that idiot. He’s wrong, ok? You’re the best damn corpsman. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. You served your country well. You served your fellow men well. Just like you wanted to. You saved lives. Hell, you saved sanities. You deserve as much respect as a Marine and as a corpsman as any man, probably more so because you’re a woman, not less.”

• You smiled. Eugene spoke so sincerely you felt you had no choice but to believe him.

#headcanons #robert leckie x reader #john basilone x reader #eugene sledge x reader #the pacific headcanons #the pacific x reader

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abihasablog · 2 years ago

Text

The Anne's Revenge, chapter 1

Fandom - OFMD.

Characters - Ed/Stede, crew of the Revenge

Chapters; 1, 2, 3, 4

Modern AU - Lucius convinces recently divorced Stede Bonnet to accompany him and his friends to the Queen Anne, a BDSM club that they frequent. Stede goes into it expecting chains and whips, until he meets Ed, a soft dom who teaches him that submission can be gentle, and helps him explore his desires.

Chapter one explores kink negotiation, and tickling.

NSFW

Words - 3879

Stede's hands fisted nervously in the fabric of his coat folded neatly in his lap. He looked around the room cautiously, accidentally catching a few eyes and looking away quickly.

Lucius reappeared suddenly holding a circular tray laden with drinks, plus several other people he recognised from Lucius's Instagram.

"Stede! Got the drinks." He set the tray down and gestured to the people now swarming the tray. "You've met Oluwande, yeah? He picked me up from work a few weeks ago when my back got blown out."

"Yes, yes of course! Lovely to see you again!" Stede smiled at the man, who smiled warmly back.

"Hey, boss man."

"This is Jim, they're Olu's partner, that's Frenchie," Lucius gestured to the man now sipping on something with a cherry, "and the others are scattered around fucking or sucking. Or both."

"Er… right!" Stede tried to sound enthusiastic as he greeted them. As much as the theme of the club was new to him, Lucius and his friends were apparently regulars, based on the smiles that they received from various staff members in black leather.

"Don't embarrass the poor guy," Frenchie chimed in. He slid into the booth next to Stede and knocked shoulders with him. "Lucius said you're new to this."

"I am, I'm afraid," Stede gestured awkwardly down to his apparel - a smart cerulean blue button down and even smarter black trousers. "Sorry to be uh, cramping your style.

He'd had no idea what one might wear to a BDSM club having very obviously never been to one before. When he’d looked online he was met with images of elaborate harnesses and women in latex. A recently divorced - even more recently disowned by his father - man of his age wasn’t the target model for those outfits.

“You’re fine,” Jim nodded at him. “The whole scene is about being comfortable, so wear whatever, man.”

“That’s kind of you to say,” Stede smiled at them gratefully. “I do feel a little out of place.”

“It’s like I told you before we came, babe! You need to find your niche.” Lucius forced a tall glass of something pink and topped with fruit into his hands. “Chat to some doms, see who takes your little baby gay fancy.”

“Sceneing isn’t for everyone either, mate. No shame in not enjoying it.” Oluwande offered, which did get rid of some of the tension in Stede’s jaw.

“Thanks, guys.” Stede took a little sip of his drink and frowned. “Is this non-alcoholic?”

“No booze for baby’s!” Lucius pointed at him with a stern look in his eye. “You need your sober brain tonight.”

“Oh, I suppose I do,” Stede huffed but took another, larger sip. The others fell into easy conversation which Stede was mostly paying attention to, though his eyes resumed their perusal of the patrons of The Queen Anne. Lucius had promised him that going on a weekday would mean a lot less nudity for his first visit, and he seemed to be right. There were couples making out and touching each other in ways that Stede and his ex-wife never did.

Not as much latex as Stede had imagined.

“You alright?”

Stede turned to Frenchie who was watching him carefully.

“It can be overwhelming, I know.”

“How long have you been coming here?” Stede asked. Frenchie smiled and gave a half shrug.

“Couple of months now. I don’t really have a set partner like these guys do, just sort of float in here and there. I’m more into the softer stuff, anyhow.”

“Softer stuff?” Stede prompted, unsure. “Is that… usual?”

“For a BDSM club? Oh sure, sometimes,” Frenchie pointed to one of the doors on the far end of the bar. “See that door right on the corner? That’s a room with just the gentle stuff. Most of the other rooms have all that plus the hardcore stuff, but that one room and a few upstairs keep it soft for people who get uncomfortable with the rest of it.”

“Oh, I see!” Stede’s eyes widened slightly, and he breathed a little sigh of relief.

“Let me guess - Lucius told you it was all chains and whips?” Frenchie rolled his eyes and flicked a piece of ice from his glass at Lucius’s face.

“Wha- hey! What did I do?”

“I was under the impression that this would be a lot more…” Stede waved his arms around. “Sadistic.”

Lucius had the sense to look apologetic even though Stede knew he wasn’t.

“Ooooh, sorry ‘bout that. Maybe shoulda gone into more detail.”

“D’you know what you’re into, Stede?” Oluwande asked. “You don’t have to answer that, of course.”

“I, uhm… I don’t really. The only person I was ever really intimate with was my ex-wife.”

“Ugh, missionary.” Lucius shook his head sadly. “Did you even cum?”

“Lucius!” Stede flushed the colour of his drink, decidedly not looking at anyone.

“Now now, what’s this?”

Stede looked up to see who the deep timbre voice belonged to, and suddenly felt his mouth go dry.

“Izzy said you brought new blood with you, boy. Trying to scare him off already?” The man cocked his head of beautiful greying dark hair to one side, eyes twinkling as he regarded Stede. “You alright, beautiful?”

“Hngh,” was all Stede managed.

“Edward! This is Stede!” Frenchie nudged Stede back to awareness. “This is his first time.”

“Hey mate, call me Ed.”

“Ed,” Stede nodded, forcing his eyes to stay on the man’s face and not drift lower to his very naked chest. “I’m Stede!”

“So you are,” Ed chuckled. “Say, d’you wanna come have a little chat with me?”

“Oh. A chat.” Stede stared at him blankly.

“Nothing untowards, mate, promise.” Ed crossed his heart with his index finger. “I’ve just been watching you over here, looking like a lost little kitten. I’m one of the pro doms at the Anne, so I wanted to offer you a little one to one to get you settled.”

“Oh! That sounds lovely, yes!” Stede beamed, “Er, now?”

“Yep, now. Up you get.”

Stede stood immediately, bumping his thighs on the edge of the table in his haste. Ed gestured to him to follow and Stede did, unaware of the giggling going on behind him. He allowed himself to be led towards the back of the club, towards the door that Frenchie had pointed out earlier. He hesitated suddenly, and Ed noticed.

“Hey, we’re not gonna do anything without your consent, yeah? I just figured you’d prefer privacy to talk about yourself, but we can do it out here if you’re more comfortable."

“No no, privacy is good!" Stede tried to smile normally but he wasn't sure it came across as such. Either way, Ed grinned softly and pulled a key card from his pocket and tapped it against the door handle.

"Only the doms and the security have access to these rooms. You don't need a key to get out though, you're always free to leave," Ed pushed the door open and gestured for Stede to walk ahead. He did, and inhaled through his nose at the room's interior.

It was a lot softer than he had been imagining. The centre of the room held a large bed, easily big enough to comfortably fit three people, piled high with pillows. There were various chests of drawers with tiny sprawls denoting their contents, too small for Stede to read. Several black leather apparatus were dotted around, a sturdy black leather chair with a tall back bearing arm restraints and a set of stocks at the feet immediately caught his eye, and he felt his face spike with heat. Ed appeared beside him and put a gentle hand on the small of his back, directing him to sit on a plush looking sofa.

Stede sat ramrod straight at one end, Ed lounged like a cat at the other.

"My new friend Frenchie told me this was a softer room, so I don't really know what I was expecting but this is lovely. Very nice wallpaper."

"Very nice wallpaper," Ed echoed, sounding fond. Stede flushed a little. "Frenchie is a great guy, gets on well with everyone here. You just met?"

"Oh, yes! He knows Lucius through the club, and I know Lucius through work. Well, initially through work, he left when I did and now we've started…" Stede caught himself rambling. "Sorry, I uh… tend to go on."

"No bother, mate." Ed offered him a soft look of encouragement. "I like listening to you. What have you and Lucius started?"

"If you're sure…" Ed nodded again and Stede swallowed his self deprecation. "I love books, you see - specifically adventure books but that's by the by - and when I quit my job I decided to do something I loved, so I bought an old bookshop and made it my own! Lucius works with me now, he runs the little art classes we do for local kids."

"Would I know the place? Is it local?"

"Er, it's called The Revenge? Not a very bookshop-y name I know, but… well, it's sort of an inside joke."

"Oh!" Ed's face lit up in recognition. "I know the place, I ride past it all the time. Never been in, though."

"Quite alright, I'd never been here before today so I suppose that makes us even." Stede tried at a joke and was delighted when Ed chuckled.

"So what brings the owner of a fancy bookshop to a place like this, hmm?"

"Lucius recommended I come here with him and his friends… I got divorced a year ago, you see. Amicably! I realised that I was gay you see. Mary was incredibly supportive and we're still good friends, but my father was very angry with me. Especially when I quit my job working for him, too." Stede looked at his hands with a frown. "Lucius says I have severe daddy issues and I need to get them 'seen too'."

"Lucius is a brat," Ed shifted a little, moving slightly closer so their knees touched. "Daddy issues we can handle, sweetheart, but there's no need for them to be handled in this environment, if you're not into it."

"Thank you for saying so," Stede braves a look at Ed's face. "But I think I am. Into it. In some ways."

"Do you want to elaborate?"

"I don't know how into the more demanding side of it I would be… you know, the pain and such. That isn't to say I'm not willing to try! But I would be open to hearing about the sort of things one does in a room as soft as this."

"This room is for gentle submission. Maybe a little spanking or caning, but mostly soft touches. Kissing, tickling, that sort of thing.”

“Tickling?” Stede wrung his hands together, his stomach swooping strangely. “People do that for fun?”

“Tickling is meant to be fun, sweetpea.” Ed tilted his head, regarding him with a gentle smile. “Are you ticklish, Stede?”

“Not… not really sure?”

“That’s okay, we don’t know until we try, hmm?” Ed grinned, which encouraged Stede to do the same. “We could give it a go, if you’d like? Just a little taste, only if you want to.”

“Right now? Are you sure?” Stede’s toes curled in his shoes. Ed nodded and patted his lap twice.

“Rest those feet here, treasure.”

Later, Stede would consider how fast he moved to obey, sliding his ankles across Ed’s leather trousers, already biting back a grin. Ed gave him a bright smile that made his heart jump in his chest.

“There’s a good boy.”

“Oh!” Stede gasped a little and quickly flushed red in embarrassment. “Sorry, sorry-”

“Don’t ever apologise for liking something that we do in here, treasure,” Ed reassured him, softly stern. “And hey, we’re just testing the waters right now, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Stede echoed, relaxing back into the cushions propped at the end of the sofa. “I think… I think I like these waters, Ed.”

“Yeah?” Ed’s long fingers made quick work of his shoelaces. He tugged his shoes off gently and placed them together next to the sofa. He went to slide his socks off too, but halted. “These silk?”

“They are, yes! I bought them for myself recently as a treat. Do you like them?”

“Soft,” Ed commented, running his palm firmly down the sole of his foot. When he reached the heel, he looked up at Stede with a mischievous grin and dragged his fingertips back up to his toes. Stede immediately broke into giggles, moving instinctively to pull his feet back but stopping himself. “Oh, looks like you are ticklish after all.”

“Looks that way,” Stede agreed, concentrating on keeping his ankles still as Ed’s fingers traced little circles on his arch.

“Such a good boy, keeping your feet in my lap. I can see how hard you’re trying for me.” Ed moved his free hand to rest on the ankle of the foot that his other hand was tormenting. “I can hold you still, if you’d like? Let you concentrate on other things?”

“Oh, maybe that would be helpful, yes, thank you!” Stede was giggling even as Ed’s fingers slowed to a standstill.

“Alright, here’s where a big house rule comes in. Every time you play with someone you need to have a safeword established - do you know what that is?”

“Lucius did explain a little,” Stede nodded. “It’s a word that you wouldn’t use during sex to indicate that you really need to stop, and can be used at any time and by anyone.”

“Someone’s done their homework,” Ed grinned and patted his knee, and Stede felt a rush of pride in his chest at his praise. “Lucius isn’t an entirely bad influence, I suppose. The house safe word here is ‘Red’, nice and easy to remember. We can use that, or do you have your own in mind?”

“Red is good! It’s the, uh, traffic light system?” Stede suddenly found himself very eager to share with Ed what he knew about the scene, hungry for any approval the leather clad adonis would give. He was not disappointed.

“Very good!” Ed rewarded him with a little tickle along his toes, and Stede decided he would like to very much be good for Ed at all times. “Green for all good, yellow to stop and check in, red to stop completely. So I might say - Stede, what’s your colour?”

“Green!” Stede said eagerly and Ed chuckled.

“I’m green, too. Very green.” Ed’s eyes regarded him playfully. “Safe, sane, and consensual. I want complete honesty, yes?”

“Yes,” he nodded his assent. He wiggled his toes, eager to get back to the good stuff. Ed huffed a little laugh, fingers returning to tickle along his ankle and fucking hell, who knew you could be ticklish there?

“You are just a treat, Stede, so sweet and eager. D’you still want me to hold your ankles still?”

“On - aha! - second thoughts I c-could keep them still!”

“Yeah? You're gonna be a good boy for me and keep those feet in my lap?”

“Yehehehes!” Stede wiggled his feet desperately, and Ed’s fingers moved agonisingly slow to resume tickling at his soles, this time using his short nails to scratch over both at once. “Ahahahah Ehehehed!”

“Colour, sweetheart?”

“Green!”

“Good boy, Stede.” Ed’s fingers didn’t relent, working him over through his silk stockings until Stede felt tears swell in his eyes. His hands fisted in the fabric of his trousers as it became increasingly harder to obey Ed’s order, the tickling sensation becoming more intense the longer it went on. As much as Stede wanted to continue, drunk as he was on the feeling of Ed tickling his feet, he knew very soon he wouldn’t be able to keep them still.

“Ehehehehed! Ahahaha!” Stede’s legs made little aborted movements. “Yehehehellow!”

Ed stopped tickling immediately, hands instead embracing his feet and squeezing them soothingly. “That’s it Stede, good boy for telling me! How do you feel?”

Stede took a moment to stop his laughter, rubbing his face with his hands and shivering slightly at the feeling of Ed still touching him.

“Did I break you, sweetheart?” Ed chuckled, reaching one hand to tug Stede’s hands away from his face and holding it in his own. Stede watched giddily as Ed’s thumb traced gentle patterns on his knuckles.

“Good, so good! Really, really good.” Stede managed, still a little breathless.

“Good?” Ed dipped his head a little. “Could you explain that a little more, sweetheart?”

“Felt nice to - to do what you said,” he squirmed a little at his own words, his cheeks heating up as he continued. “And the tickling. That was really nice, and fun. I liked the tickling a lot.”

“I did, too.” Ed released his feet and stood, and for a horrible second Stede thought he was leaving, but then he tapped at Stede for him to move down the sofa, and Ed slid in behind him. “Another house rule. Aftercare.”

“Aftercare? But we didn’t really do anything?” Stede frowned a little in confusion. Ed tugged him back to lay against his belly, a pair of leather clad legs bracketing him on either side. Stede tilted his head to gaze up at Ed, who looked at him fondly. A hand found its way into Stede’s curls and he shivered at the touch, a contented sound bubbling from his throat.

“You submitted to me, darling. Even though there was no pain involved it’s important that we make sure you’re okay. You did really well telling me when you needed to stop, and then telling me what you liked. Was there anything you would change?”

“Nothing,” Stede shook his head, and Ed tapped his nose in gentle reprimand.

“Think a little about it first before you answer, sweetheart. We have all the time in the world here.”

Stede pursed his lips at getting it wrong, but did as he was told.

“I… I think that when we-” he cleared his throat. “That is, if you would like to do it again?”

“I would, sweetheart.”

“Oh, good! Me too!” Stede beamed up at him. “When we do it again, I’d like to go a little longer I think, but I was starting to struggle keeping still, you see.”

“Ah,” Ed’s nails scratched softly against his scalp. “Needed a little help from me, eh?”

“I suppose I did, oh,” Stede frowned. “Was I supposed to say?”

“The only things you are supposed to say during a scene are your colours. Talking it through after a scene is important to know what was done right, and what can be improved. We now know that next time,” Ed's fingers curled a little behind his ear and he scrunched his neck with a giggle, “we can try a little restraint.”

“That sounds lovely,” Stede sighed, letting his eyes fall closed as he relaxed against Ed. “How long does aftercare usually last, Ed?”

“As long as you need it to, mate,” Ed chuckled. “You’re looking a little floaty down there.”

Stede hummed, reaching up and making grabby hands until he found Ed’s free hand. He clutched it and pulled it to his chest, idly playing with his fingers and the rings that adorned them. “Ed… I’m not sure of the etiquette for this sort of thing.”

“Tell me, sweetheart. No judgement.”

“Well… you know I said I’m recently divorced?” Ed hummed in acknowledgement. “Well, since then I’ve been sort of lonely. Not really sort of, actually, more like a lot lonely. And this… this really helped. When Lucius suggested it I thought he must have mistaken me for someone else! I mean, I’ve never even worn open toed shoes before, let alone visited a club! I almost didn’t come, but I’m so happy I did. I didn’t think I’d meet someone like you, tonight.”

“Someone like me?” Ed teased. He crooked a finger under Stede’s chin and tilted it to meet his eye. “Devastatingly gorgeous, you mean?”

“There is that,” Stede blushed at Ed’s grin. “The way Lucius was going on, well… I expected a different vibe. But you’ve been so kind and attentive to me tonight, and…”

Ed hummed for him to continue, hand still stroking his hair.

“And I wondered if it would be appropriate to see you again?”

“D’you mean here, at the club? Or somewhere with less leather?” Ed dipped his head so the ends of his hair tickled Stede’s cheeks. “Because I’d be up for either, sweet thing.”

“You would?” Stede lept up excitedly, spinning to stare in wonder at him. “You - you’d really - with me?”

“Yes, you. Don’t see any other gorgeous creatures here - well, apart from me.”

“Ed!” Stede shimmied a little closer. “Could I… could I give you my number?”

“I’d love that,” Ed beamed, and wiggled a finger under Stede’s chin. “Y’know, I’ve heard a little something about a bookshop nearby here. Perhaps I might meet you there tomorrow night? Say… whatever time a handsome bookshop owner might finish work?”

“That would be six!” Stede caught Ed’s finger in his hand and held it tight. “I would love that. We could get dinner? Or, just drinks?”

“I could go for dinner and drinks, personally.”

“Oh, me too.” Stede nodded eagerly, heart fit to burst from his chest.

“Tell you what, mate. I’ll send you off home tonight with a little homework, hmm?” Ed caught Stede’s face in his hands and rubbed his thumbs over his cheeks. “We know you like a little tickle, hm? There are lots of other things we could try together too, but only if you want. I’m going to give you a list to take home and fill out with things you might want to try. It’s a long list with some intense scenes on it, but don’t be afraid to mark things as a hard no.”

“That sounds fair,” Stede nodded. “Do you have a list?”

“I do, and of course you can see it, and we can talk about whatever you’d like. If you don’t understand what something is, or are a little curious about it, then make a note and we can discuss it at dinner, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Stede smiled, feeling a warm swell overcome his body. Never had anyone in his life cared so much about his well being. It made him a little dizzy. This must be how Lucius felt after his evenings spent here. Oh - oh.

Oh shit.

“I’m gonna have to tell Lucius,” He groaned suddenly, head flopping to rest on Ed’s shoulder. Ed made a sympathetic little sound and rubbed his back soothingly.

“Poor darling,” he cooed. “I’ll make sure Pete gives that little rascal a good seeing to he teases you, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Stede giggled, then burst into loud laughter at the absurdity of it all. Stede Bonnet, in the arms of a man he’d met only an hour previous, in a sex club, after having his feet tickled - and not once since Ed introduced himself had it felt wrong. Ed laughed with him, and while Stede knew he didn’t know why he was doing so, he didn’t care. It felt so nice for once to be laughed with, and not at.

He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

But what would he wear?

#ofmd #ofmd tickling #blackbonnet #also on ao3 #tickling

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