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albentelisa · 1 year ago

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Hi! Here's an interesting or slight angsty ask.

What if Barabra was chosen as the Trollhunter when Jim went back in time, but she and Strickler both regained their memories when she picked up the amulet?

So, much like in the canon, Jim planned for Toby to pick up the amulet, but the thing is that by the point Toby goes under the bridge - there is nothing there (and Toby thinks that Jim has pranked him or something).

The thing is, that instead of having a healthy nap after the night shift, Barbara wakes up and decides to drive to buy some groceries while Jim is at school. Her car mysteriously breaks down when she is crossing the bridge and when Barbara is out, she hears the voice calling for her.

When Barbara picks up the amulet, she gets a surge of memories from the different timeline. The same simultaneously happens to Strickler (who is lucky not to have any lessons at the moment, because that's too much to process even for him).

The thing is that neither Barbara nor Strickler has any idea that Jim has time-traveled (Barbara wasn't there and Strickler was, well, dead by this point). Both believe it to be some kind of miracle and that they are the only person who knows about the possible future.

Barbara's plan is to shield Jim from all the painful experiences while keeping all the pleasant things that came from trollhunting for him (like his bonds with trolls). She also plans to talk Walter into switching sides as soon as possible.

Strickler, on the other hand, plans to assist Jim (who he thinks is still the Trollhunter) from the shadows, working as a double agent. He genuinely believes that everything should be the same as in his memories, so he waits for anxious Jim coming to get his advice - only to get Jim who obviously tries to set his first meeting with Barbara (not that Strickler minds, but still it's highly suspicious). So Strickler starts to suspect that Jim knows too, which would perfectly explain everything.

Strickler still goes to meet Barbara - and learns that she's both the new Trollhunter and remembers everything. Together they start to plan how to reach a happy future for everyone. Strickler also reveals his suspicions about Jim.

Meanwhile, Jim discovers that Toby hasn't picked the amulet and panics as he has no idea who is the new champion. He goes home only to encounter both his mom and Strickler who want to hear the truth from him. There is no point in denying the obvious, so Jim tells everything about the time travel. He hopes that Barbara will let him help her (after all she knows that he is capable), but she is deadset that her son should take it easy this time.

Jim is rather upset to be sidelined as even without the amulet he still has his knowledge and battle experience. Barbara isn't convinced - until Jim comes to help during her escape from Bular and accidentally summons his armor from the future (apparently both new amulet and Excalibur time-traveled together with him).

Barbara finally realizes that Jim's calling doesn't bring him suffering only and apologizes to Jim.

Jim decides to start assembling the old team. He brings Toby first, then Claire (once they are on friendly terms), then approaches Douxie and introduces him to Claire. Douxie tells Claire about magic and starts teaching her.

Meanwhile, Strickler works as a double agent, preventing many troubles that could possibly happen to the trollhunters (including not switching Enrique with NotEnrique - he simply brings him to Arcadia as an assistant). Even though he tries to be discreet, other Janus Order members and even Bular start to suspect him. Strickler manages to escape accusations for a while (insisting on staying an insider even though Barbara tells him to get away asap). He manages to recruit Nomura and NotEnrique too. However, his luck isn't unlimited, so Strickler ends up captured, and other changelings propose using him as a hostage to lure Barbara.

The team frees Strickler, but much like in the canon, Killahead is still open. Strickler risks to close it and ends up trapped in the Darklands.

Unlike Jim, Barbara spares Bular, believing that he can get a chance at redemption. Bular now lives in the basement.

Otto unseals Angor Rot, but unlike Strickler, who eventually switches to his own goals, he is scared to betray Gunmar and uses Angor to get the amulet and recover Killahead fragments. Otto also contacts Usurna and makes an alliance with her.

Barbara is deadset on going to the Darklands and saving Strickler. Jim thinks that recovering triumbric stones should be easier this time (as they know their locations) until he remembers that Strickler gave him the last one and currently he's in the Darklands. Douxie and Claire try some search magic together, locating that one hidden in the Janus Order headquarters.

Jim decides to make a deal with Angor - to help him get free in exchange for his cooperation. After all, he knows how to use Kairosect now (and they recovered it just in case). Angor steals the triumbric stone, and Jim gets Inferna Copula.

The entire team travels into the Darklands - and discovers that Gunmar has control over Strickler's mind. It's the distraction that gives Gunmar the opportunity to escape the Darklands together with his army and march right into the Trollmarket.

Barbara is deadset on liberating Strickler (and surprisingly gets the most vocal supporter in the form of Angor Rot). Jim is also on her side, and he remembers how Draal was freed from the control in the old timeline. As much as both he and Barbara hate the idea, it seems that they need to lure Gunmar together with Strickler to Merlin's Tomb (though, Barbara doesn't intend to let Merlin ruin anyone's life this time).

There's also the situation with Morgana as in this timeline she has no chance to possess Claire, and Jim remembers that in the past she used to be kind, so he wonders if he can convince Morgana to come back to the good side (even though she has to atone for all the evil she caused).

As for Bular, he is the most conflicted as living with Barbara and Jim taught him a lot about humans, making him reconsider his old ways. Bular hopes to convince his father to stop the war and live peacefully, so he heads to the Trollmarket in secret from the team. Obviously, Gunmar isn't interested in listening to his son and is enraged. He imprisons Bular, giving him the last chance to change his mind.

Meanwhile, Morgana contacts Gunmar through the changelings, proposing an alliance once again. Gunmar goes to search Merlin's staff, unaware that he actually acts the way that Team Trollhunters want.

Strickler is finally free, but both Barbara and Jim underestimate Gunmar, and he gets away with Merlin's staff. Besides, this time Gunmar still hasn't killed off the Janus Order, so he has no obstacles in freeing Morgana.

Merlin, who wakes up, has a lot of information to process (starting with Barbara as the Trollhunter and ending with the second amulet from a different timeline). He isn't happy with the time meddling though as he believes that it may lead to disastrous results. Not that Barbara, Jim, or Strickler is listening to him.

Jim seeks Angor's assistance and they go to meet with freed Morgana. Initially, she is hostile, but Jim shows her Excalibur and asks if she has given up on humans entirely. Morgana agrees to give Jim a chance to demonstrate that a different solution can also work.

Morgana breaks her alliance with Gunmar and helps her changelings to escape. She also frees Bular.

Without Morgana's support, Gunmar loses the fight with Team Trollhunters. Morgana also liberates all the trolls who fell under Decimaar's control (Angor decides to give her a chance after that, even if he is far from fully forgiving her).

Morgana doesn't become a full ally as her relationship with Merlin is extremely complicated, but she agrees to assist Jim and Barbara and show some magic to Claire.

As the fight was at the Trollmarket, Arcadia is still mostly unaware of trolls or magic. Besides, despite some ruination, there is no need to travel to New Jersey.

However, it also means that the Arcane Order can attack while the team is in Arcadia.

Jim goes to meet with Aja and Krel, forming an alliance with them and telling them about the time travel stuff. He promises to help to deal with Morando and asks them both to help with defending Arcadia.

Green Knight attacks earlier than in the first timeline. He targets Merlin, who barely manages to escape. Meanwhile, Bellroc tries to recruit Morando (without any success), and Skrael contacts Morgana, reminding her that she's still the Arcane Order's champion (she also refuses to cooperate).

The Arcane Order attacks while everyone is distracted because of Morando. They capture both Nari and Merlin (the latter to get the location of Genesis seals from him).

Jim is conflicted about whether he should tell everyone about Green Knight's true identity (especially Morgana) but ends up deciding against hiding the truth. As he suspected, Morgana doesn't take it well as she wants to reach out to her brother once again even though Jim tells her she failed in the first timeline.

Morgana encounters the Green Knight, but much like Jim has warned her, her words fail to reach her brother. Morgana is injured by the obsidian shard but manages to escape.

The Arcane Order tries to get the information about the Genesis seals from Merlin's mind, but it's something he actually predicted so they fail to get anything from him, despite all the measures used.

The team makes a plan to save Nari and Merlin. Jim has a clash with Arthur. Two Excaliburs is the time paradox, but it turns out that Jim's is the more powerful one as it is powered by rightful ideas. Arthur's Excalibur shatters and Arthur perishes.

Douxie saves Merlin and Merlin finally admits that he has lost his way fighting against the Arcane Order. Merlin decides to seal Bellroc and Skrael with the cost of his life this time, finally stopping to sacrifice everyone else and putting his own life on the line. However, his own magic seems not to be enough. Douxie is willing to join his master, but Morgana, who arrives just in time stops him (as she believes Douxie still has much to do for the new world) and joins Merlin in sealing instead. The seal takes all of their magic and life force.

It's not a permanent measure though. Nari tells everyone that Bellroc and Skrael simply don't believe that peace between different kinds is possible, so they decide to build a happier world while the seal is still intact.

#tales of arcadia #what if scenario #post rott #barbara and strickler also have their memories back #trollhunter!barbara #jim lake jr #text post #ask box #anon ask #guess who is back

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montyterrible · 3 months ago

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At least 76% plastic

I’m a consummate defender of Ron Howard’s live-action Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000)—and, to a much lesser extent, Bo Welch’s 2003 Dr. Seuss’ The Cat in the Hat—not because I think the movie/either movie is particularly “good” but because they are at least not boring. They have an interesting chaotic and even gross energy. I guess there’s a case to be made for them having camp value since the ostensible intent was to mimic the iconic whimsy and color of a Seuss book, but the end-results are just trippy, uncanny, horny, racist, etc. Jim Carrey and Mike Myers are great as the Grinch and Cat, respectively, but I don’t think for the intended reasons.

Meanwhile, the 2012 Dr. Seuss’ The Lorax (another kids’ movie I skipped originally) is just boring and lacks even the off-putting (accidental?) artistry of the aforementioned two live-action movies. Watching it, I felt exactly what I’ve frequently seen other people decry about Howard’s Grinch: That it’s too long, for one thing, spoiling the pristine pacing of the Seuss original and the earlier animated adaptation, which is like a third to a fourth of this newer runtime. The difference is that I find stuff like the Whos throwing a key party delightful but think the many little moments of additional “whimsy” Illumination tries to cram into Lorax are unpalatable violations of the original work’s mood. The difference is almost purely subjective, of course, but I would still argue for The Grinch treatment being more interesting because it is such a wild, wide swing (and a miss). Meanwhile, the added stuff of The Lorax is very safe and sanitized and is just mostly comprised of goofiness that children would probably enjoy (trademark). It is, ironically, as texture-less and vapid as the corporate-controlled façade and endless profiteering the movie supposedly critiques.

One visual that I actually liked was the design of the very important Truffula Trees. Their colorful tufts looked so pleasant to touch (and maybe delicious). Their allure—to the animals, to the Once-ler for his “Thneed”-making, to the deprived people of the flimsy utopia of “Thneedville” as a symbol of hope—is perfectly, primally presented. And the movie kind of does justice to the aged Once-ler’s house, at least on its first appearance, when it’s meant to be ominous, though that feeling does not stick around for subsequent scenes or even for that entire initial visit once The Whimsy kicks in.

I have always been drawn to horror, and the Once-ler and his house as depicted in the Seuss book are early images in that vein that I still feel on a deep, subconscious level. I loved how the book reduces the Once-ler to just his long arms, keeping the body hidden. Of course, The Lorax movie as good as resents suggestion/implication and requires a maximalist telling to make the story fit the feature film outline. The child from the book’s frame narrative now has his own story that trades off with the Once-ler’s, and the two arcs muddy the waters greatly in terms of pathos. There’s a new, additional profiteering capitalist, Mr. O’Hare, to serve as an antagonist for the story, where the original book was more of a parable and less of a conventional narrative with such rote dramatic stakes. The way that it concluded so ambiguously by exhorting the frame narrative child (and, by extension, the reader) to be better than the Once-ler without ending on a conventionally “happy” note is part of what gives it so much force and staying power (and contributes to The Gloom that I enjoyed). I resent the movie’s de-fanging of the original narrative’s criticism by virtue of being too damn long and boring—Because the Once-ler’s story now ends before the movie does, he has to offer the exhortation/moral too early, so they also slap those words on-screen again when the movie finally does actually conclude, with the Once-ler and Lorax embracing as friends. The world gets better because Ted Wiggins cares a lot; you, the viewer, need not feel so terribly pressed to do anything.

Depicting the Once-ler at all is a mistake, and not just because his bland human design sucks all the mystery and fun out of the character. It also bungles his thematic purpose: He is the Once-ler, an embodiment of the mistakes of the past, passing his story and the hope for the future onto his audience. Who he was is unimportant (you could argue that he’s not one person so much as a whole generation and/or class of people), and what matters is strictly what he did (wrong). He and his name are allegorical and vague. We’re not meant to latch onto him and to instead find something familiar and relatable in the child as our proxy. By contrast, the movie now asks us to root for and empathize with the Once-ler as well, and now he’s a concrete personality who was for some reason named “Once-ler” by his parents, which is just extremely odd, even more so when you throw in the stereotypically redneck-esque brothers named “Chet” and “Brett.”

Giving the Once-ler’s audience a name and an arc further dilutes the thematic and atmospheric power of the book, as that nameless kid is now “Ted Wiggins” specifically and no longer all of us. Giving him a motivation for visiting the Once-ler is also bad. In the book, we don’t know all the details regarding why the child is seeking this man-person-thing out, but it works in a very emotionally graspable way: It’s the haunted house, the neighborhood hermit (Old Man Once-ler), a novelty, maybe a dare or rite of passage of sorts. It can, in its vagueness, work with so many different storytelling concepts or frameworks involving children and local spooky mysteries. Having this “Ted” go to the Once-ler because he needs a tree in order to Get With Taylor Swift just feels like sacrilege, on top of being more vibe-wrecking specificity.

What I will give this narrative thread is that I think Ted subtly forgets this motivation in the end in a way that I actually liked: When he finally gets to plant the seed of the last Truffula Tree in the center of Thneedville (after a sequence of animated Antics that includes a radical snowboarding granny!), he’s so lost in the moment that he’s surprised when Swift’s Audrey gives him a peck on the cheek. Shortly before that, he also borrows the Lorax’s language in trying to win over the town by “speak[ing] for the trees.” I wish there was perhaps more of a spotlight placed on this transformation—how Ted doesn’t really care about trees initially (they’re just a means to an end, like they were for the Once-ler)—but he ultimately realizes that the health of the planet matters more than some mammalian milestone. The arc’s there, but it could have been drawn out as a new explicit moral that could have worked with this slick, modern Lorax, as one for the Smartphone Age youth, as it were. I am ultimately saying that this adaptation needed to change even more to function properly as a successor to the original.

The very beginning of The Lorax lulled me into a false sense of hope regarding the overall package, as there’s a movie-original rhyming bit delivered by the Lorax to set the stage that I felt matched ok enough with the source material, but I wish there was more that felt so effortful about this re-telling. There’s some “clever” incorporation of Seuss’ original words at points, and there are also some musical numbers that did not impress me on the first viewing. I lowered the volume a few notches for each one of them, in fact.

I didn’t (and still don’t) think any of these songs needed to be here, though I’ve changed my mind about them feeling what I was going to describe as “perfunctory.” That “you feel every song in [the movie] as a song first and foremost.” The comparison I was going to make was to musical theater, where what you want from a musical number is for the sentiment it expresses or the way that it advances the plot or deepens the audience’s understanding of a character to feel seamless—When you forget that the characters are even singing because it’s such a natural extension of the storytelling that it sweeps you away. Some of the musical numbers in The Lorax are even staged a bit like musical musical numbers, funnily enough. That’s a certain stylization I can respect. And they’ve grown on me over time (and after a second viewing), which also parallels my experience with musicals like Into the Woods. There was a “hollow, like a dead tree” final pronouncement attached to this train of thought originally, but I’m going to amend that slightly: Like a stricken, dying, or dead tree, there are fleeting glimpses of beauty or old grandeur in The Lorax, but also those tell-tale dead branches and unsightly growths that tell you the thing is not totally healthy.

#NOT saying movie once-ler isn't cute/cool (just bland in contrast to being a disembodied pair of mysterious arms)#movies #movie review #the lorax #lorax 2012 #dr seuss

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thegeminisage · 1 year ago

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the tholian web episode rewrite

this post is an episode rewrite of the tholian web, an episode about jim kirk being declared prematurely dead and the enterprise, particularly spock and bones, falling to pieces until his miraculous return as a weird space ghost. i thought this ep was very very very VERY good, it's one of my all-time favs, but the end was really jumbled and didn't quite give me the payoff i wanted, so a summary of the original (which you can skip if you've seen it) plus my suggested fixes are below.

the original

the enterprise, searching for the a missing starship called the defiant, finds it in a weird area of space that is "breaking up." when jim, spock, bones, and chekov beam aboard (in space suits) they find the ship dark and full of the corpses of its crew, who all killed each other in fits of insanity, and the ship threatening to disintegrate with them on it

unfortunately, they can't all be beamed back at the same time, and jim of course insists on being last, so when the ship does disintegrate ("interphases" into another dimension), it takes him with it - with only 4 hours of air left in his space suit

because scifi, spock works out that they can get jim back if they hold perfectly still until the dimensions interphase again. but this is an episode where every possible thing goes wrong - the area of space is slowly driving the crew insane and hostile, and titular tholians show up to fire on the enterprise for being in their space past the time they said they needed initially for their rescue of kirk

spock fires back, hoping to preserve what little chance they have of saving jim, but the battle not only damages the enterprise, it also (somehow) damages the area of space they were supposed to rescue jim from, which means they have no choice to declare him dead, AND the tholians come back to start weaving some kind of forcefield (the titular web) to prevent the enterprise from leaving

btw: bones HATES this. he thinks staying to fight was stupid because they'd already lost jim and now they're going to make his death meaningless because the rest of the crew will die too. he thinks spock not emoting is heartless, and asking him to find a cure for something that isn't a disease is unreasonable. he accuses spock of being a selfish short-sighted gloryhound, etc

after kirk's funeral (baller scene; it is interrupted by yet another person erupting in screaming), bones INSISTS on watching kirk's "last orders," a tape he made prior to his death meant to be played only in the event of his passing. once bones gets spock alone, he demands to know why spock stayed and fought instead of getting jim's crew to safety like he would have wanted. spock sort of gives a nonanswer and they start fighting again, but they get interrupted by kirk's tape, which basically urges them to get along - for bones to respect spock's ability to captain and for spock to trust bones's human intuition. after the tape finishes, there's a long silence, and bones apologizes

meanwhile, uhura has seen a ghostly image of captain kirk appear in her mirror. she runs out of the room yelling for spock, but finds bones instead, who chalks it up to the space sickness having gotten her. but more and more people report seeing kirk, until finally bones and spock start arguing about it - bones even spins spock around in his captain's chair to face him when he feels spock isn't taking his concerns seriously, and then has to apologize - spock replies, "i'm sure the captain would have said, 'forget it, bones.'"

at this point kirk finally appears on the bridge. spock tries to touch him but can't, though you can see kirk mouth "spock, hurry!"

things finally start going right: bones develops a cure for the insanity and the engines are repaired. they manage to get away from the tholian web and bring jim along with them.

at the end of the episode jim asks if they watched his last orders. at a single exchanged glance bones and spock decide to lie about it, and promise him they behaved perfectly well in his absence

but in MY version...

the problems

again, this ep is one of my all-time favs, but it's full and jumbled near the end. the setup was excellent, and the payoff was REALLY good, but it could have been even better.

the biggest issue was the stakes. tos loooves fake time limits and other arbitrary problems to up the stakes, but this is going way overboard. jim has 4 hours of air left in his suit AND the engines are busted from the fight AND the space is making the ship act weird AND the tholians are closing their web AND interphase only happens at random intervals AND the crew might not even be able to drive the damn ship because they're going nuts...there's so many stakes you kind of forget what you're supposed to be worried about

secondary issue was the spock and bones plot. i think they were fighting just for the sake of fighting, without any real reasons, and so their reconciliation felt a little hollow

not NEARLY enough kirk in this episode, particular cool space ghost kirk. ik it was a limitation of the sfx, but still. also, no spirk reunion. kirk deserved to see them both when he got back!!

the changes

the plot

firstly, i think interphase was explained a bit poorly, which feeds into some of the ??? near the end of the episode. i think what they wanted to convey was that some wall between dimensions was weak in this particular area, causing both the madness and the phasing in and out of reality, and these two dimensions crossed at random. i think it would have been better if there had been a predictable cycle (say, the two hour mark, an even number into kirk's 4-hour time limit), and i was never quite sure why they needed to hold perfectly still anyway

next we've got to work with the stakes. definitely keep: jim needing the 4 hours of air in his suit. the tholian web, since it is after all titular (sorry for using the word titular again) - though if it weren't, i'd be tempted to chop it too. the crew going bananas, since it is both wonderfully terrifying and can act as a "can we even drive this ship" question. however the damaged engines, and also the initial tholian wait time can def go. the "this space is making the ship itself act weird" too - perhaps the reason jim was beamed back last has something to do with the suits only being able to go one at a time, or him dropping his communicator and them not being able to lock on, idk.

so to recap: keep the scene where they beam aboard and jim has to be beamed out last, but the ship vanishes before the beaming is done. i like when jim sacrifices himself in an understated calm sort of way but i'd add just a LITTLE more rising dread here on his/the music's part because the scene is already very spooky and since i knew what was gonna happen going in i was nail-biting the entire time, and would looove to transfer some of that energy to our hypothetical new and improved episode

upon disappearance of the defiant, some scifi technobabble happens and spock figures out they'll have another chance to get jim back. unfortunately, bones doesn't buy that one bit. he and the rest of the crew (to legitimize his position and keep his accusations from seeming baseless) all think there's no possible way jim could have survived, that it's dangerous to stay where they are, and that spock should get them the hell out of dodge immediately

but spock's the captain and he says logic dictates jim might still be alive so long as there's air in the suit, so they stay. IMPORTANT: there needs to be a little bit of an argument here, involving spock saying something like "starfleet would totally agree with me and in fact if i don't fuck it up i'd be given a commendation" or something to that effect. he's not saying it because he WANTS a commendation, he's actually struggling to validate his decision to bones while also hiding the fact that he's extremely upset, but it's important. we'll get back to it later

the tholians show up. i think it would be better if the battle happened immediately to cut any confusing wait time, and this is what damages the enterprise. spock is successful in scaring the tholians off temporarily, but his ship is fucked and now they CAN'T leave, and to make it worse the tholians come back and start weaving their web. this leads us to...

spock & bones

NOW spock and bones have something concrete to fight about, instead of just bickering for the sake of bickering. bones thinks spock should have ran, but spock wanted to stay

i think a good twist for this argument in the episode that we have is that bones was under the impression spock wanted to stay for self-serving reasons (not normally an assumption he'd make about spock, but he's grieving too), and all along the reason spock wanted to stay was an emotional one. unfortunately in canon his accusations of gloryhounding came out of fucking nowhere, so we need a scene to seed in that subplot

logically speaking, the first thing that has to happen after jim's death is his funeral, which i'm saving for something else, so this scene would need to be BEFORE all that, perhaps during a pre-funeral moment of chaos where the crew are dropping like flies and the screaming arrivals are flying into sickbay. bones wouldn't be the only one bitter about spock's decision to stay behind, and someone, a fellow sickbay worker or some yeoman, makes a comment about they can't believe spock did this to them just so he can be captain, and bones is like girl WHAT and they're like yeah i totally caught him looking at transfer orders the other day

of course, spock doesn't really want to transfer off the enterprise. it's obviously a misunderstanding. i'm not totally sure why he has the paperwork...the best i can come up with is some starfleet official wanted there to be a token vulcan captain for some wack reason or another, because in tos whenever they have problems they can't logistically justify they always blame it on some backward starfleet official, so i don't see why i can't do the same

anyway, this is why we needed that argument earlier - when bones thinks back on it, spock's remark about the commendation all but confirms this new theory of his, when really had spock been on his game and not grieving he probably wouldn't have attempted to validate himself to bones at all

so this is the real conflict between them - bones think spock has gambled the lives of everyone on this ship because he thought he could outsmart the tholians, exploited jim's DEATH for his own selfish gain, and has hardened his heart against the palpable grief and loss that everyone else is displaying. none of that is true, of course, but spock would prefer to let people believe he doesn't have emotions and he has no idea anyone knows about the very irritating starfleet officials trying to poach him for another ship, so HE thinks bones is being extra irrational because of his grief (which is only a little true), right when they all need to be at their best. they will yell at each other about this for the rest of the episode.

anyway, bones is good and mad. you see the steam coming out of his ears all through kirk's funeral, which, again, is interrupted by someone starting to scream as the madness takes them. at the end of the funeral everyone is dismissed and starts to file out of the room and bones immediately jumps on spock about 1. going to see the tape and 2. his bad and selfish decisions

HOWEVER, i'd like to combine this scene with the scene of uhura spotting kirk's ghost. while people are still hurriedly leaving (mom and dad are fighting again, awkwaaard), uhura cries out that she's seen captain kirk and everyone turns to see...nothing there. bones shakes his head sadly and declares her the latest casualty of the crazy and he and spock personally take her to sickbay, barely restraining themselves from continuing their argument...

but the camera stays on the room after they leave, which slowly darkens and changes slightly in color, and the camera pans to...

a ghostly captain kirk, watching all of this with the quiet horror of a doomed man

space ghost kirk

my biggest problem with this ep was that i wanted it to be 2.01 my time of dying from s*pernatural, and it wasn't because the 60s have limits on their sfx abilities. in this fantasy world, though, i can do WHATEVERRR i want

CAPTAIN'S LOG, SUPPLEMENTAL: here kirk outlines what really happened to him, which is that he escaped the defiant during the attempted beaming but found himself floating in the enterprise in an alternate dimension - it's dark, like the defiant, and maybe green or something to visually denote the difference between kirk's dimension and ours. he can see and hear what's happening but no one, except uhura just now, can see him. he can't touch or affect anything. he is powerless. all he can do is try and figure out some sort of solution while he watches his ship falling apart - this time from kirk's pov, with lots of FUNNN spooky ambience - and, of course, spock and bones being extremely angry with one another, like fighting in sickbay after they've seen to uhura (when it's clear to jim and us that they're angry BECAUSE they're grieving)

then we get to kirk's last orders. spock tries to put bones off about this because seeing jim's face right now would kill him on the spot but bones wants to get him alone in order to violate the hippocratic oath by shaking him like a dog with a squirrel. finally spock reluctantly agrees is metaphorically dragged away to the woodshed

more arguing but this time with kirk as a third unseen participant. bones makes an accusation and he chimes in with "spock tell him it's not true!" spock implies something about bones's abilities being compromised when he's so emotional and kirk goes "mister spock you're out of line!" spock fields the accusations of wanting a captaincy by explaining the truth about the wack starfleet officials, but bones doesn't believe him at ALL. "if you didn't want a captaincy, why did you stay and fight!?" he's sure he's got spock cornered; now he'll have to admit the truth.

perfect time for the tape to come on. this is the same as it is in the episode, and when it stops and kirk's smiling face remains frozen onscreen, spock explains haltingly that he stayed because he wasn't sure jim was dead and couldn't bear the thought of leaving him behind. there: an emotion. he prepares for the inevitable vivisection.

instead bones apologizes, like he does in canon. i liked the line "it does hurt, doesn't it?" unlike spock, bones shows his emotions outwardly. as in canon, they get called away by plot stuff. bones leaves first. spock stays behind, looking at the screen, and reaches out almost as if to touch it. there's a moment where you think he'll break - then he puts it all away, turns on his heel and goes, and the camera pans back to kirk, speechless.

kirk notices that as time goes on and they get closer to that next interphase, he becomes visible more and more often. perhaps when he talks into the radio in his suit it could come over the intercoms or something. people start hearing him and then dismissing it. someone sights him in the engine room. spock and bones think the whole ship is going nuts, but kirk can't seem to get through to the two people who need to see him most.

so they have to do it on their own: reconcile. develop an antidote. a toast to their departed captain with scotty, where bones finally addresses spock as captain. then, with interphase growing closer, and the tholian web coming to a close, spock and bones are on the bridge when kirk appears in front of EVERYONE

(i liked bones spinning spock's chair around and then swooning into his arms and of course the "forget it bones" is CRUCIAL, so maybe the toast/drinking the antidote takes place on the bridge, and this happens just before bones drinks his share)

anyway, this time spock reaches for him, like he does in canon, instead of aborting the motion like he did in kirk's quarters when he nearly touched the computer. but kirk vanishes again, and spock's hand closes on nothing

the ending

now that they KNOW kirk is back, everyone has to rush to beat the clock in order to both escape the tholian web and bring their captain with them

everything goes well just like it does in the episode, with the small change of: as soon as spock has directed the ship out of the web, he gives the bridge to sulu and books it to the transporter room. he arrives just in time to see jim materialize on the plate alongside bones, and he probably stands at parade rest while bones welcomes jim home like he does in the episode proper, but there's enough eye contact happening between the three of them we know spock is just as relieved as the rest of them

NOW the scene at the end, where kirk talks about how empty that universe was and how he likes a crowded one much better. i have two versions of an ending in mind and can't decide which is more fun so i'm doing them both

#1: someone, spock or bones or one of the other bridge crew members, asks jim if it was totally awful being able to see the ship in such distress and not being able to help and he dodges the question by saying he couldn't see much anyway or some stupid bullshit. then HE asks spock and bones about his last orders and they also lie. and you get the idea from their various face journeys they all know each other is lying but they're going to pretend in order to remain professional and buttoned up - and then someone says something that gets them started again. bones exasperated, spock deadpan - but it has a totally different tone from the vicious fights from earlier and it cuts the tension easily. it's an all's well that ends well moment, because you can see jim is enjoying the nice version of their bickering again.

#2: kirk asks about the last orders, spock and bones lie, and kirk calls them out on it by reminding them he could see and hear everything. this is followed with the sort of gentle and loving admonishment that kirk is capable of when he's touched which basically amounts to: thank you for continuing to be excellent and professional to my ship while privately falling apart, but if i die again, please be better to EACH OTHER so i can go to my death knowing the two of you at least have one another. spock and bones, mildly abashed, agree - and then again, someone says something to start the friendly bickering and cut the tension before the credits roll

DONE. this CONCLUDES my episode edit of the tholian web, which again is really very very good already. we love a good character death fakeout and we also love SPONES. look for more overthought episode edits someday in the future

#star trek #star trek tos #spones #mckirk #spirk #mcspirk #kinda. please nobody kill me for using those tags it's gay to ME #the tholian web #liz makes stuff #liz's star trek stuff #do i tag this as meta or fic...i guess both #liz writes #liz writes meta #st ep edits #i really need to make a masterpost lol

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childrenofthenightt · 4 years ago

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That’s The Way

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none, this is kind of an introductory/fluff chapter if you will :)

Story summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl, gets pulled into the world of rock and roll on a fateful night at the Marquee Club in London when she experiences the musical phenomenon of the Five Live Yardbirds. She grows up fast, navigating her way through the downfall of The Yardbirds, the legendary skyrocket of Led Zeppelin, era-defining decadence instigated by the ‘60s and ‘70s mindset of free love and personal gratification, and finding the courage to express how she fell deeply in love with one of modern music’s greatest guitarists.

Author’s notes (from Molly of rebel-without-a-zeppelin): Hi everyone! A little disclaimer on my part: this is the first story I’ve ever shared for public consumption. I’ve been toying with this idea in my mind for a very long time now, and I’ve finally mustered up the courage to share it with you all. I hope you like it. I am incredibly honored to collaborate with Syd on this project; this is truly our baby, as it has a very long, detailed, intricate plot, so saddle up for lots (and lots) of drama! This is also a sloooowwwww burn, like really, really slow lol. Over the course of the story, please feel free to send me your theories and comments; I would absolutely love to read them. Please enjoy, and happy reading!

---------

3 May 1965

The sound of a car horn beeped incessantly from the front of Y/N’s house. Dropping her backpack down on her bedroom floor with an annoyed huff, she sprinted down the steps. She never did get enough time to prepare, and it was no different today. With her friend Carolyn in tow, Y/N made a beeline for the front door, the click-clack of her Oxford shoes pounding across the hardwood floor. Y/N’s mum, who nonchalantly strolled out of the laundry room with an armful of freshly washed and folded bath towels, leant against the doorframe.

“Now remember Y/N: no drinking, no drugs, no sex. No going home with strange musician guys, nor are you allowed to go to their hotel,” her mum instructed calmly, knowing she’d receive an eye roll from the girl. Her stern expression at home on her gracefully-aged face, the girls receive the speech they get every time they go out. “You too, C. Even though I’m not your mother, I still worry about your safety.”

Both Y/N’s mum and dad had a very protective instinct over their eldest daughter, just like their other three children. Even at Y/N’s healthy age of seventeen, she longed for the freedom and trust that her older brother had gained at her age.

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Carolyn replied with a little laugh.

“Mum! This is literally the fourth time I’ve been to a Yardbirds gig, and nothing bad has happened,” Y/N huffed. Her mum raised her eyebrows.

Lillian, Y/N’s little sister, walked into the foyer and surprised Y/N with a big, tight hug around her waist. Y/N gasped at the sudden contact, but chuckled when she realized it was her younger sister, and reciprocated the hug.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N. Boys are icky. And stupid!” Lillian said in a whiny voice, her face muffled by being buried in Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N ruffled her sister’s muss of dirty blonde waves affectionately, rubbing her back to soothe her worries. “I promise, I will come back perfectly fine! I won’t let any boys mess with me, Lil,” Y/N said with a smile, “And when I come back, I’ll tell you everything that happened.”

Lillian gazed up at Y/N with a similar smile, her small teeth shining a bright, pearly white and her chin resting on the taller girl’s stomach. “Okay,” she said, content, before releasing from Y/N with a stuffed animal tucked under her arm.

“Where’s Charlie?” Y/N asked, hoping she could say goodbye to her younger brother before she left.

“I think he’s riding around the neighborhood on his bike with his friends,” Y/N’s mum replied with a shrug. Y/N felt a little disappointed, but she figured she’d talk to him tomorrow at breakfast about her night out.

Thomas, Y/N’s older brother, continued to honk the horn rather obnoxiously, growing quite impatient. It’s a wonder the neighbors weren’t at arms, knocking on their door. He was forced by his parents to be Y/N and Carolyn’s chauffeur to the Marquee Club in London.

“We have to go, or else Tommy will have my head,” Y/N said as she started to open the front door.

“Wait!” her mum said, sloppily placing the towels down on a nearby counter to dash to the door and give Y/N a hug and a kiss on the head goodbye. Finally pulling away her weathered hands flew to Y/N’s shoulders, and gripping them firmly, she continued, “Be good. Love you.”

“I know, I will. Love you too,” Y/N smiled, before dashing down the steps and to the passenger seat of the car. Carolyn was in quick pursuit, following her to the car and taking a seat in the back.

“It’s about time,” Tommy huffed impatiently, tapping his fingertips on the top of the steering wheel as he put the transmission into drive.

“Sorry. Mum was giving me and C a safety brief,” Y/N replied apologetically.

“Why are you two still in school uniforms?” he snorted, shifting to look over at the girls; their studious appearance of white oxford shirts, sweater vests, plaid kilts, white knee socks, and smart oxford shoes would be quite out of place among the audience at the show.

“No time to change, just like usual,” she replied, turning on the radio, soft melodies pouring out at a low volume.

The three drove in silence, except for the sound of the radio playing, until Carolyn had dozed off on the somewhat lengthy car ride. Occasional small talk between Y/N and her brother permeated the quiet that fell over the group, but it picked up when they were only a few blocks away from the venue.

“You gotta stay safe in there, Y/N,” Tommy said, looking straight ahead. His teeth clamped down sharply on his bottom lip: a dead giveaway to the nerves he must have been feeling.

“I know, Dad,” Y/N joked, punching him lightly across the shoulder. Her bright smile wavered and fell when she saw his grim expression.

“I’m serious, you know. I don’t want my sister being pestered by some wankers in a blues band.”

Y/N smirked at her brother’s sudden defensive behavior. “I can take care of myself. Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo. You should’ve seen the first Yardbirds gig we went to. Utter chaos...” The tilt of her lips signalled that she was joking, and Tommy huffed out a laugh.

Carolyn, stretching with a grunt, had miraculously woken up just as Tommy pulled up to the front door of the Marquee. Glancing at the venue with awe dancing in their eyes, Y/N and Carolyn disembarked from the car, walking closer with the façade of calmness and competency.

“I’ll be back later to pick you girls up. Have fun, but not too much fun,” Tommy rolled his window down as he said this, winking playfully.

Y/N waved to her brother as Carolyn thanked him graciously for the ride. Arms linked, Y/N and Carolyn entered the famous Marquee. Nervousness and anticipation began to pool Y/N’s stomach as she was greeted by the decadent atmosphere of the club: the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat hung in the air as her eyes were flashed by many people mingling about, dressed in typical mod clothing. Y/N and her friend looked at each other, feeling like aliens in their intelligent dress. They tactfully made their way through the crowd as they found their way to their usual spot, a small leather-upholstered booth set against the wall near the stage.

“Today might be the day, Y/N,” Carolyn said as they settled into their seats.

“I don’t know,” she replied, smoothing out her skirt, “the idea of that is both scary and exciting to me at the same time. We’ll just roll with the punches, I guess.”

“Which Yardbird do you have your eye on?”

Y/N smirked as she thought for a moment. “Hmm...I’m not sure. I guess they’re all pretty cute in their own way. What about you?”

“Yes, I agree. But I must admit, I do have a very soft spot for Chris Dreja.”

“I’ll pray for ya, C,” Y/N chuckled.

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, backstage, five live Yardbirds were performing some pre-show rituals in the hopes of easing the preliminary anxiousness. Jeff, Keith, and Jim were peeking out the little sliver of curtain that allowed them to see their gathering audience.

“Look! It’s those two schoolgirls again!” Jeff pointed to the two teenage girls in school uniforms, chatting in their booth waiting for the show to begin. They were huddled together in conversation, legs daintily crossed as their faint giggles floated over to them. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the sound, though he recovered quickly, not wanting his bandmates to get any ideas.

“What’s wrong with that? They must like us,” Keith replied.

“I think they’re both really pretty, especially the one with the Y/H/C hair,” Jim pointed out, trying to be as subtle as possible.

“Yeah, maybe we should invite them backstage after the show… have a nice little chat,” Jeff winked at the singer and the drummer cheekily.

After taking a final glance at the two conversing girls, the three returned to the backstage area where Paul and Chris were. Jeff immediately enlisted Giorgio, their manager, to complete the agreed-upon mission. Jeff loosely draped an arm around Giorgio’s shoulder before bestowing the request as politely as possible. Not trying to be suspiciously polite, of course, because everyone in the band and its entourage were firsthand witnesses of Jeff’s temper and stubbornness. Yikes.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to do me a favor,” Jeff said to Giorgio with a mischievous smile.

Giorgio rolled his eyes, knowing this “favor” would have to do with scouting girls from the audience. “What d’ya need, Jeff?” he sighed exhaustedly.

“Don’t complain, please,” Jeff deadpanned. “There are two pretty birds in the audience, wearing their school uniforms. They’ve been coming to our shows for a little bit now, and they seem nice—”

“You want me to bring them backstage after the show?” Giorgio interrupted, somehow telepathically knowing, by routine, what the guitarist’s request would be.

“You finish that sentence like you know what I’m about to say.”

“That’s because I do, Mr. Beck,” Giorgio retorted sarcastically, “this happens a lot more often than you think it does.”

“Whatever,” Jeff grumbled moodily, knowing he was right, before walking back to the group of musicians in preparation.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N and Carolyn continued to gossip happily about what was happening at school, not a care in the world. They felt the stares of older men in the club, who silently disapproved of their knee socks being scrunched by their ankles, because that wasn’t the “proper” thing to do. But they didn’t care. Who are they to judge?

Every teacher scolded girls at school who did the same thing, because they didn’t want their long legs to be “tempting” or “distracting” any boys. A bloody nuisance, is what it is.

The girls were snapped from their thoughts by the sound of a heavy guitar tone being blasted through the speakers in an opening riff. Their eyes were stapled, almost transfixed to the stage as they took in the five sharply-dressed men in front of them, singing their songs and playing their instruments.

As much as Carolyn enjoyed The Yardbirds and music in general, Y/N had a rather deep connection to it, odd enough as it was. She could play the piano fairly well, so she understood where these musicians were coming from cognitively and creatively. From what she’d read in magazines about current popular musicians, like The Yardbirds for example, she liked the same music they did. Y/N understood dynamics, tempo, tone, key, and musical notation, just like they did. Perhaps she’d be able to get into an intelligent musical conversation with at least one of them one day.

Two straight hours of hits, obscure songs, and blues covers from The Yardbirds’ catalogue were played for the Marquee Club patrons, hypnotizing its drunk and high onlookers with polished musicality and instrumentation.

As the final song concluded, both Y/N and Carolyn, unbeknownst to the other, felt a sinking feeling of disappointment that fell like a pit in their stomachs. They wouldn’t have the chance to meet the band. No one from the entity had approached them yet, and momentarily the five live Yardbirds would be exiting the stage for the night.

After they said their goodbyes and thanks to the crowd, they disappeared behind the curtain. The main lights of the club brightened to signal that the show was over, as the voices of all the patrons raised in rave of the spectacular show they had just witnessed.

Discouraged, but still in light spirits at what they had just seen, Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seat and headed for the front door. Y/N expected her brother to be waiting in front; it was late, so might as well not make him wait longer than he needs to.

Y/N and Carolyn were merely a few feet from the door when Y/N felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around to see a man with a dark beard already baring a jovial tight-lipped grin at her, the girl was quite surprised, maybe a little weirded out, but she reciprocated the gesture as genuinely as she could.

“Hello sir, what can we do for you?” Y/N greeted, discreetly nudging Carolyn to help her out and become a united front with her in front of this stranger.

“Good evening ladies, I was sent by Mr. Jeff Beck to offer you an invitation backstage to hang out with the band.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped and her face broke out into an obvious mad blush, much to her dismay. She was internally screaming. The Jeff Beck had spotted them in the crowd?! This had to be a dream. Wait, this could be a complete drunken buffoon trying to trick them. Y/N remembered what her mother had said, and took the proper precautionary measure.

Y/N smiled in the most composed way she could. “Thank you for such a gracious invitation! Could I ask your name, if you don’t mind?”

“Giorgio Gomelsky, manager of The Yardbirds,” he replied, in a seemingly proud manner.

Okay, this was real. Y/N knew that Giorgio was definitely the manager’s name. She turned to Carolyn, who looked just as excited as she was.

“What are your names, dears?” Giorgio asked, pulling them out of their daze of what seemed like a fake reality.

“I’m Carolyn, and this is my friend Y/N,” Carolyn piped up, excited that she finally got an opportunity to speak to someone close to The Yardbirds.

She internally agreed to let Y/N handle the “diplomacy” part of the introduction, knowing that she was best at that. Carolyn knew her friend was quite shy, so she knew to step in when Y/N was starting to feel anxious. She noticed Y/N starting to fiddle with her fingers while talking to Giorgio in the most collected way she could muster; as excited as Y/N was, Carolyn knew she was growing very nervous.

“Well, it is certainly lovely to meet you both. So, what do you say? Would you like to meet the lads?”

After one final glance of excited mutual agreement, Carolyn replied, “Yes, we’d love to.”

Giorgio led the pair of girls back the way they came, through a sea of inebriated people, but this time through the backstage door. Y/N made an appoint to walk behind Carolyn, in an attempt to collect and relax herself. She was starting to sweat a little, her stomach doing flips and her hands becoming cold and clammy.

~~~~~~~~

“Our guests should be arriving any minute now,” Jeff said as he was placing his guitar back in its case.

Chris was standing and chatting with Paul in a corner when he turned around in surprise at the news. “Guests? What guests?”

“We had Giorgio invite two girls from the audience to come back here,” Jim replied, walking over to sit down in a metal folding chair.

“And why weren't we made aware of this?” Paul asked, as he walked to get another metal folding chair to place near Jim.

“It was their idea,” Keith replied, pointing two fingers between Jeff and Jim. Paul and Chris just nodded in recognition.

“I didn’t hear you disagree, Relf,” Jeff clapped back. He then told Chris and Keith to get some chairs for themselves and the two girls that would be walking through the door at any second.

Before Keith could respond, a couple knocks resounded in the room, signalling the arrival of the guests. Jacket lapels and ties were quickly straightened, even though each person was still glazed with quickly-drying sweat from the show they had just played, before the room fell unnaturally quiet as Giorgio opened the rather squeaky door.

The initial tension in the room that lasted a split second could be cut with a knife. Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, a cold sweat already running down her back, as five pairs of eyes landed on her, Carolyn, and Giorgio, warm smiles following suit.

She felt like internally combusting.

“Boys, this is Y/N,” Giorgio broke the momentary silence by introducing her, “and Carolyn.” Y/N smiled shyly and sent them a little wave, a dusty shade of pink seeping its way to her cheeks. Carolyn’s greeting was much more exuberant than Y/N’s, as she took the initiative to go over and shake all of their hands amiably. Y/N realized she had to follow her friend in order to make a good first impression.

Knowing that the boys wanted to spend time with the girls without being chaperoned, Giorgio left the room to attend to other business affairs.

Upon first glance, Y/N was the most beautiful girl that four of the five Yardbirds had ever seen. Perfect features, long legs, a calm, gentle, sweet demeanor… Just an absolutely angelic young woman; a vision.

Jeff had obviously recognized her beauty, from seeing her at multiple shows, but he thought she was way out of his league. He decided to focus on getting her to laugh and relax around them, because he noticed just how nervous she looked. She was turning pale right in front of his very eyes! Paul and Chris began to internally question themselves, how have I not seen this girl before? She is so gorgeous! Jim had been glancing at her sporadically throughout the show, soaking up her faraway presence. He noticed how her eyes glistened in childlike wonder as she watched them do what they did best: perform the Chicago blues.

“Well, it is very nice to meet you both,” Keith replied enthusiastically. “I’m Keith,” he alluded to himself, then pointing to the other members of the group while giving their names, “and this is Chris, Paul, Jeff, and Jim.”

“I mean, we know who you guys are, but it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Carolyn replied. Y/N nodded in agreement.

“Come and sit down! Make yourselves comfortable. We don’t bite,” Jeff joked, motioning to the open chairs. The girls smiled and accepted his invitation, Y/N taking a seat between Jeff Beck and Jim McCarty, while Carolyn took a seat between Keith Relf and Chris Dreja. The chairs were arranged in a circular formation, so each person could talk to the other with ease.

“Tell us about yourselves!” Paul initiated, “I think Y/N should go first though, because you haven’t said too much yet,” he laughed at the last part. Y/N giggled (a little too idiotically for her own liking), but she felt herself become starstruck at how her name sounded coming from one of their voices.

Y/N clenched her cold, clammy hands in her lap as a method to ease her anxiety before starting with a smile. “Well, I’m from Saint Albans. This is our fourth time, I believe, coming to see a Yardbirds gig. Carolyn and I came to see you with Eric Clapton once, and then this is the third time with Jeff.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic! I guess I see where your favor lies in terms of guitarists,” Jeff responded playfully.

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N laughed, “I will admit that I love what you’ve done with the body of work. Clapton was a blues purist, which I respect, and he’s great, but I think your playing is much more interesting and unorthodox.”

Paul, Jim, and Jeff all raised their eyebrows at Y/N’s comment. They were impressed with how she understood their musicality.

“Are you a musician?” Jim asked Y/N.

“Not in your sense of the word,” Y/N chuckled, “But I’ve been playing the piano for most of my life, so I understand music. Probably more than your average female audience member,” she added with a grin.

“That’s so cool! Are you classically trained, or is it just a hobby?”

“Classically trained,” Y/N admitted to Jim shyly.

“Oh wow, so you’re the real deal,” Jeff added.

“I’m not a professional, so I’d say no,” Y/N laughed.

“You probably know more about music than all five of us combined!” Paul said.

“Well, I know that you know much more about the blues than me!” Y/N answered playfully.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Paul smiled at Y/N. She cursed herself in her mind for feeling weak at Paul’s simple sentiment, but tried to keep her composure as best she could.

The four of them, especially Jeff and Y/N, began to bond over their love for different musicians. Y/N expressed her love for Chet Atkins and his fingerpicking style, Scotty Moore’s lively soloing style, and Robert Johnson’s slide technique and open tunings, rendering the three men shocked at her knowledge on the subject. Y/N loved how easily Jeff could make her laugh, and how interested Paul and Jim were at whatever she had to say, significant or insignificant. Chris Dreja, who was in a little group with Keith and Carolyn, occasionally spaced out of his conversation to hear what Y/N had to say.

They bonded for about an hour and a half about everything and nothing, until Y/N abruptly realized that Tommy was probably waiting for a while outside for her and her friend. She apologized to the band profusely for such a sudden departure as she and Carolyn walked towards the door.

“Say you’ll come visit us again after the show?” Jeff called to Y/N as she turned towards him in the doorframe.

“Absolutely,” she smiled brightly.

---------

Thanks so much, hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @y0uth--anasia @reincarnated70sbaby

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #that’s the way #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page x reader #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

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katehuntington · 4 years ago

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Title: Black Dog - part one (prologue) Word count: ±1050 words Episode summary: When Sam gets an anonymous phone call with information about his father, Dean receives a text message with coordinates to different location. The brothers clash and split up, one following orders, the other trusting his instincts. Meanwhile, in the wilderness of Cascade Range, Washington State, Zoë loses grip on a personal case and is forced to confront her demons. Without back up, this might very well turn out to be her final hunt. Part one summary: A hike up Whitehorse Mountain isn’t the toughest challenge the Cleveland family has ever faced, until the snow is tainted by blood. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Swearing, smoking, weaponry. Descriptions of torture and murder. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Descriptions of suicidal thoughts and tendencies, depression, panic attacks, hallucinations. Author’s note: A brand new episode of Supernatural: The Sullivan Series starts here! Beta’d by @winchest09 & @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E03 “Black Dog” Masterlist

Whitehorse Mountain, Washington November 21st, 2005 - One week ago

”C’mon, David!” Three hikers find their way through the forest on the slopes of Whitehorse Mountain, deep in the wilderness of the Cascade Range. Evergreens rise up high above them, reaching for the clouds. A girl, probably about sixteen years old, walks up front, closely followed by her father. A bit further behind, her older brother halts as he looks over his shoulder. Behind him, in the valley where there is no snow, Darrington lies, protected by the mountains surrounding the small town. The shadows of the ridges they are climbing lay out a blanket of darkness. Across from the valley, the top of North Mountain is covered in white. It’s an amazing sight.

“Hey, Slo-mo! Hurry it up! We wanna get over the Lone Tree Pass before dark,” his young and enthusiastic sister calls out. “How much sugar did you have, Ruth?” her brother teases, after which he follows. “We’ll set up camp below the ridge and continue east first thing in the morning. In about a half a mile, the real fun is gonna start,” their Dad informs, looking at a detailed map while walking. “I can’t wait to see the view from the summit!” Ruth cheers, eager to reach their goal.

Jim observes his daughter and smiles. The three of them share a passion for hiking and they go out to tame mountains whenever his work allows it. It became an outlet, especially after his wife passed away two years ago. It was a shock to all of them, but they got through it, as a family. It’s during moments like these that he realizes how lucky he is, still being able to spend time with his daughter and son. “Slo-mo!” Ruth mocks, glancing at her brother over her shoulder. “Would you stop calling me that?” David laughs. “It’s the truth. But I’ll tell you what. I won’t call you names anymore if you make it to camp first,” she dares him. Ruth turns around and walks further backwards, challenging David. He grins and starts running up the mountain. “You’re on!”

He passes his father, who shakes his head with a grin on his face. Siblings; it doesn’t matter what age those two are, they will always compete with each other. “Don’t go too far,” he warns like any parent would. “You’ll never catch me!” Ruth shouts at her brother. “Watch me!” David returns.

He bolts after her, struggling to get through the thick layer of snow. He can hear his little sister laugh in the distance. Sometimes she appears between the tall trees in the black and white surreal world, and then he loses sight of her again. He catches up on her, but just as he’s about to pass his sister, they reach the rocky pass of Lone Tree. Unstoppable, Ruth starts her climb as she slams her axe in the solid ground, conquering the steep trail without a safety line. Trained and skilled, she overcomes the pass, tailed by her brother.

“Slo-mo!” she calls him, heaving her fist into the air victoriously. “Yeah, yeah. You win.” David shakes his head as he drops his backpack down in the snow.

Out of breath, David takes a moment to enjoy the view. Ruth, who has been running all this time and was too busy beating her brother, looks aside and witnesses the most beautiful scenery she has ever seen. Mountains as far as the eye can reach, down below an untouched valley. The rocks, the snow, the animals, the evergreens, it all comes together in a perfect balance, a beautiful mixture of the world’s wonders. In the east, The Four Fingers rise up from its foundation, as the setting sun shimmers an warm glow on the snowy slopes on the west side. The siblings can only stare in awe at the pure beauty of the earth.

“Wow…” Ruth says, breathless. “You can say that again,” David admits. Ruth sits down in the cold snow and breathes in the fresh air, surrounded by small clouds created by her warm breath. Gosh, would she love her Mom to see this. She looks up at the pass, but there’s no sign of her Dad whatsoever.

“Hey, Dad. You alright on that side?!” she shouts loudly, after which her voice echoes on, carried by open air. “He’s getting old,” David jokes. Ruth giggles, but then a strange, unusual roar reverberates through the mountaintops. A howl, but nothing like they’ve ever heard before. “Is that a grey wolf?” Ruth wonders, surprised. “I don’t know. I’ve heard grey wolves before, but this animal sounds different,” David ponders, as he stares down the ridge.

Then they hear it again, much closer this time, or is it just the echo through the mountains that creates that illusion? A bad feeling starts to evolve in David’s stomach as his sister staggers, frightened by the eerie calls. Something’s off. “You stay here, I’m gonna check on Dad, okay?” the oldest of the two says. He looks over at Ruth before he grabs his axe and climbs to the other side of the pass. The Lone Tree is easily overcome and he descents down the mountain. “Dad?!” he shouts.

But the forest stays remarkably quiet. Too quiet. It’s just now that David realizes that he doesn’t hear the birds, nor other mammals that live in these woods. The trees don’t even whisper, the mountain seems dead. Carefully, David shuffles through the snow, which is perfectly white, until he stumbles on an odd color in this grey toned landscape.

Red.

Slowly, David’s gaze looks further ahead, afraid of what is about to come into view. This could well be an animal prey, a deer maybe. But he knows it isn’t, and when his gaze reaches the end of the bloody trail, his biggest fear is confirmed to have become reality. Under a tree lays his father, torn to pieces. In horror, David stumbles back, frightened, until he falls into the heavy snow. Then he hears the howl again, followed by a gut wrenching scream, coming from over the pass; it’s his sister. Large eyes full of terror stare up the pass while he realizes what he’s hearing, is the sound of flesh tearing and bones breaking. Even though he knows it’s useless, a chilling cry escapes his throat. “RUTH!!!”

There you have it, the first chapter of the new episode “Black Dog”. I hope I got your attention! Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read chapter two here

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Dean x OFC #Sam x OFC #Supernatural fanfiction #supernatural series #spn fanfiction #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #SPN #Supernatural #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Zoë Sullivan #STSS #Black Dog #1x03 Black Dog #Kate Huntington

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consultingcriminal · 4 years ago

Note

Okay but guardian angel! Sebastian tho

Yeehaw angst backstory time! Kinda.

So he nearly dies, before getting hired by Jim, but idk fuckin Cas is like "get your stupid bisexual ass UP and go meet this person". And he gets like. This vision of Jim before blacking out and waking up home, perfectly fine. So he's like "damn weird dream" and gets up and wings just SHOOT OUT OF HIS BACK and he fuckin screams. And now is like "so what do I have to go protect this random prick to stay alive?" because sometimes he smart and a searing pain shoots through him as a "yes".

Finding Jim

It takes him Forever™ to find Jim because all he got was a face. Eventually he's like "I'll keep looking but I need money" and then gets a job offer and goes to the meeting and BAM there's Jim and he nearly freaks out again.

Seb is bad at hiding things

He is so shit at controlling his wings because it's literally all new so he kinda always keeps his door locked and that annoys Jim. Because now his employee is being sus and that's just not good. So he's trying to figure out what's going on with Seb and Seb is trying to keep Jim safe. Whenever he gets really annoyed at Jim and wants to leave he gets that searing pain and he sucks at hiding that so Jim also notices that at times.

Big reveal™

The One Time Sebastian Didn't Lock His Door™. Jim barges in with a plan and there is Sebastian, shirtless, huge ass cream colored wings out. Both scream because what the hell and how the hell. Seb awkwardly explains, and tries to make it known that he would've taken the job regardless. But Jim is hardly listening, more interested in his wings, asking millions of questions. Seb is confused but tried to answer.

Ahah wing cuddle go brr

Jim surprisingly took the news about everything well? I mean he was expecting Seb to fucking betray him so the news about him being a sudden guardian angel is fine. Seb meanwhile is Confused but it makes doing his job kinda easy. Plus now he can just have his wings out whenever they won't fuck off. Jim's still all amazed by them and constantly asks if he can touch 'em, take a feather, etc etc. Eventually when relationship starts up (may it be the fuck buddies or not) Jim starts using the nickname "my angel" and Seb acts like he hates it but he loves it.

...feel free to add on to this or make your own lmao

I- this is so sweet-

#mormor asks #adds to list of things I'm never gonna finish writing

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thebibliomancer · 4 years ago

Text

Essential Avengers: Avengers #213: COURT-MARTIAL

November, 1981

Aw sweet, I could win a ten-speed!

Welp. Here we go.

This title doesn’t fuck around. This cover doesn’t fuck around.

You know, the Avengers are actually a very rules based organization. In an average issue, its a bit weird to think about these goofuses actually following a charter but its true.

Much more so than the X-Men or the Fantastic Four. The Avengers are always talking about who’s going to be the chairman and procedural things. I think because the Avengers are more a group of equals than the X-Men or Fantastic Four are. The X-Men and the FF have a clear cut leader.

But the Avengers need rules because your common Avengers either all think they could be leading the team, actually could, or all of the above. They need an explicit charter to keep those egos in line.

But I guess my point is, having read 213 and change issues relating to the Avengers, you’d think that court martials would show up more often. They are a group prone to nonsense decisions. I think the one other one we see has Iron Man court martialed and suspended for a time for not responding to an Avengers call and not being able to account for it (since it related to secret identity stuff).

I have to figure that they tend to happen off-screen as necessary with exoneration generally occurring.

This one happens on-screen. And follows up on last time: wherein Yellowjacket shot a mysterious magic woman in the back when Cap was trying to use words and not punches to resolve things.

This is a grim day for the Avengers. They have to put one of their own under investigation and their furnishing related mishaps just keep mishappening.

Look at Thor and Iron Man squeezed onto one tiny table. Cap doesn’t even have room. He has to dramatically stand.

Although this is actually the pre-court martial. Captain America has leveled charges on Yellowjacket and Thor and Iron Man are going to decide whether it warrants proceeding or not.

Captain America: “Yesterday, we engaged in combat with a mysterious woman possessing strange, awesome powers who was attacking Washington, D.C. After heavy fighting -- I managed to win through her defenses and reach her! I’d succeeded in convincing her to cease hostilities -- when, suddenly, for no reason, Yellowjacket blast her with his disruptor ‘sting’ at full force -- in the back! Fortunately, she weathered his attack -- but his action re-ignited the conflict! It could have cost us all our lives... and left the city defenseless!”

Iron Man asks whether Yellowjacket has any explanation for his action.

And since “I was a jerk!” isn’t a great defense, Hank goes with “no explanation!”

Without any explanation for his actions, its decided to convene a formal court martial for three days hence. Until then, Yellowjacket is on temporary suspension. Since Avengers don’t carry guns or badges, he’s asked to turn over his Avengers’ priority ID card. Which presumably gets you discounts at the snack bar as well as some sway with the government and such.

Hank protests but the rules are firm and Hank himself helped write them back in the day.

Outside the... meeting room? Tiny library? Gosh, I’d love a layout to the Avengers mansion. Why aren’t they meeting in their sweet conference room- oh right. The table shrank.

Anyway, outside wherever, Wasp in her new... and frankly lingerie-looking costume is fretting.

(Jan, why are your fashion instincts so hit and miss and miss?)

And then Tigra boops her on the head.

Tigra has continued to be as cat as an equivalent weight in cats and has climbed the wall to hang out on the wall trim. Somehow.

Wasp: “Tigra! What are you doing up there?”

Tigra: “Same thing you’re doing down there -- wondering what’s going on inside! When cats get nervous, they climb! You should try it! It might relax you!”

Tigra also assures Wasp that everything will be alright but privately hopes that it will be. And also dunks on Hank a little.

Tigra: (I’ve never seen a woman so hung up on a guy! And such a strange guy! He seems like such a cold fish... all wrapped up in whatever murky stuff is churning around inside himself! He gives me the creeps!)

Yellowjacket comes out of the whatever room and Wasp is immediately on him, asking he hold her. And he’s like

mmnnyurrh

Yellowjacket: “Jan, just -- just get away from me! Leave me alone! Haven’t I got enough to contend with without you slobbering all over me?”

When she turns away sadly he apologizes and hugs her, saying he’s just afraid because the Avengers are going to court martial him.

A still lurking on the wall like a five foot something cat Tigra wonders to herself “Jan, baby! I just don’t get it! Don’t you know you’re worth ten of him?”

She’s right and she should say it.

The pre-court martial panel splits, to meet up again in three days for the court martial.

Captain America flips off the roof into a thunderstorm to get some serious thinking and flashbacking done. He’s extra like that. I mean, seriously. There’s a front door, STEVE.

Cap: “I wonder... am I doing the right thing? Was Yellowjacket’s action just a mistake -- ? Something that could happen to anyone?”

He thinks back to the war, when he in disguise as Perfectly Average Steve Rogers PFC was on a recon patrol and his unit ran right into a huge German advance.

His unit got cut to pieces around him until he was the only one left. At that point, he ripped his uniform off to reveal he was dressed in layers as CAPTAIN AMERICA.

I was going to snark that his secret identity was worth more than the lives of his unit but I dunno that even a Captain America could have done much to save his GI guys. The way its portrayed and all. Steve even thinks that his number is up so might as well go out as CAPTAIN AMERICA.

“It was early in my career -- after I had established myself but before I had seen much front-line combat! Till that day, I hadn’t suspected how wise the government had been in giving me this costume! The very sight of Captain America seemed to terrify the German soldiers, as, fighting like a man possessed, I cut a swath through their ranks...”

Cap fought and fought until there were no more enemies standing. Surrounded by collapsed and probably unconscious and not at all dead German soldiers.

He hears a sound behind him and acting on battle instinct he throws his mighty shield with the intention to make someone yield.

But: instant regrets.

“The sound was a child... a war orphan, collecting brass to sell for money to buy food! Thank god, she was bending to pick up a shell casing just as my shield would have struck! Meant to stun a full-grown man, it probably would have broken her neck if it had hit!”

Wow! Cap almost killed an orphan!

The point being that Cap wonders if he has the right to accuse Hank, when “there, but for the grace of god...”

Meanwhile, Iron Man has stayed back at the mansion to refresh his memories with some research in the Avengers records.

This is one part a montage of previous Hank Pym moments and one part ‘actually I did do the research before I wrote this’ from Jim Shooter.

Because, yeah, Jim Shooter, according to Jim Shooter, went back and reread every single appearance by Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne before writing this story. Believe it or don’t but the montage is here so he at least did enough to get panels to reference or reuse.

Iron Man notes Hank’s tendency to change identities and costumes frequently, how his gaining the power to go giant didn’t work out too well for him, how he left and rejoined the group, never seemed comfortable with the Avengers, and in Iron Man’s estimation that he felt outclassed by the other founders.

And perhaps the reason he kept ping ponging between the team and his research was a lack of success in either one. How his attempts to achieve a scientific breakthrough to prove himself (I guess Pym Particles are a case of ‘what have you done for me lately?’ or just that he didn’t want to be a one-hit wonder) bore only Ultron, one of the Avengers’ deadliest enemies.

Iron Man: “But I wonder... can he ever truly be free of the spectre of Ultron -- ? Can he ever be more than a haunted, hollow man drowning in a sea of guilt over the wrongs done by his monstrous creation? Can he ever rid himself of the desperate need he has to redeem himself in his own eyes?”

That’s a hell of a way to talk about your friend, Tony. I know the Avengers have a policy of not interfering in each others personal lives but its probably not the best policy to watch him struggling and just wait to see if he figures out his shit on his own.

I don’t know.

Iron Man: “And if he is in that kind of inner turmoil, he needs our help... our support... our love! Hank is a friend to us all... a founder of this group! How can we turn our backs on him when he needs us most? How dare we punish him for a mistake that any of us might have made?”

Oh! Well! Learn me to not flip the page. I guess in fairness Hank has been at his worst here than previous times.

Anyway, as I said, Tony doing this research mirrors Jim Shooter doing his research. And Tony reaches much the same conclusion as Shooter does, although perhaps more kindly worded.

Jim Shooter: “Back in 1981 I was writing the Avengers. Hank Pym aka Yellowjacket was married to Janet Van Dyne aka the Wasp and things had not been going well for him for a long time. Before I embarked on the storyline ... I reread every single appearance of both characters. His history was largely a litany of failure, always changing guises and switching back and forth from research to hero-ing because he wasn’t succeeding at either. He was never the Avenger who saved the day at the end and usually the first knocked out or captured. His most notable ‘achievement’ in the lab was creating Ultron. Meanwhile, his rich, beautiful wife succeeded in everything she tried. She was also always flitting around his shoulders, saying things to prop up his ego.”

Geez, Jim.

I don’t know about Hank never saving the day at the end. Never is a bit much. But I don’t want to reread 213 minus issues to say for sure.

But this is the portrayal of Hank that went into writing this story and Iron Man is the one who speaks it aloud.

Outside the mansion, Wasp and Yellowjacket run into a group of young fans right as they leave. The fans all want Wasp’s autograph and mistake Hank’s codename for Bumblebee and ask if he’s ever done anything.

Wasp: “Look, I’m just his sidekick! You’d better get his autograph too!”

A child, probably: “Nah! We just want yours! Right, guys?”

This is like that scene with Hulk in Endgame where he tries to get the fans to appreciate Ant-Man too, to Scott’s growing annoyance with the situation. Except not as played for laughs.

On their limo ride to their Cresskill, NJ home, Wasp tells Hank not to let those smart-aleck kids get to him.

Yellowjacket: “... Well, they were right! What have I ever done? Nothing!”

Wasp: “Hank, don’t be silly! Oh, who cares what they think? You’ll always be my hero!”

In fairness, Wasp has been actively on the team for a bit and memories are short. Hank’s been busy in his lab. Which Wasp reminds him but that's the lab she paid for and where he’s accomplished NOTHING!

The staff of the house also dig the knife in a little, possibly unintentionally but eh who can say. When they address the couple Mrs. Pym, aka the person who signs their checks is primary and Hank is the after thought. But possibly they just interact more with Jan if Hank has been cooped up in his lab.

Jenkins: “Welcome home, Mrs. Pym! Uh, you too, sir!”

Jenkins in the next panel: “Madame, would you like us to begin preparing your luncheon now? And Mr. Pym’s too, of course!”

And then, things get awkward. Although oh lord, Jan is trying.

Wasp: “Alone at last! Thank goodness! It seems that we never have any time just to be together by ourselves anymore! You know, just to talk, and --”

Yellowjacket: “I don’t want to talk about my problems, Jan! I know you mean well, but --”

Wasp: “But I’m ‘dingaling Jan, the airhead heiress’! Every time I try to help I just make things worse! I know! I -- I’m sorry! I always goof everything up... always say the wrong things! I’m such a dumbbell! It’s a good thing I found you to think for me, darling! You’re so smart... so strong... mmm... so sexy! All I want to do is melt in your arms... be yours! I need you to protect me and keep me warm, lover! Oh, Hank! Let’s just sneak off to bed and cuddle and kiss and -- and let me show you how much I love you! Whaddaya say, big boy?”

Yellowjacket: “Uh... not now, honey! I -- I’m just, just a little too tense now! You understand, don’t you? I think I’ll go putter around in the lab for awhile! Maybe that’ll relax me! See you later... okay?”

Eeesh.

Eeeeeeeeesh. It almost hurts watching Jan diminish herself so much to try to make him feel better.

Although a lot of her solutions seem to be ‘lets make out until you feel better’ but she did offer to talk. Not even about anything specific. And Hank automatically assumes that the only thing to possibly talk about is his problems.

Hank locks himself up in his lab, realizing that he’s disappointed Jan but saying that its better to not even try to get romantic while he’s this upset.

Yellowjacket: “I wouldn’t blame her if she hated me! I’m a failure as a husband... just like I’m a failure as a hero! So here I am again, hiding out in the lab... where I’m a failure as a scientist! I hate this place! ... But I keep coming back -- because, here at least I had one success!”

And yes, that one success he credits himself with... is Ultron!

Yellowjacket: “Yes... here I accomplished what no one else ever has! I built a robot capable of independent thought! Here, I created... Ultron! Even that went wrong! Even that, my own success turned into a disaster! A failure! But maybe, just maybe, my one success will yet provide the key to my salvation!”

And he starts putting together a new robot!

Hoooooooooo boyyyyyyyyyyyyy, Hank. Building robots isn’t always the solution!

Also: in order: does the robot Human Torch just not count then? And do Pym Particles not count?

SCENE AND TIME CHANGE

Three days have passed, it is dawn of the three days later.

Tigra is spending her morning napping because she is here to cat to the utmost.

Look at this. Ridiculous.

You are a ridiculous individual, Tigra Greer Grant Nelson.

And like a cat, sleep can be a tenuous thing for the faint sound of footstep on carpet outside her room has her spring out of bed and answer the door of her room before Jarvis even knocks.

Because Tigra is here to be a cat and unnerve Jarvis, for reasons which escape me.

She jokes about Jarvis bringing her a mouse for breakfast but he’s really here with her weekly stipend check from Tony Stark.

This is a thing that’s been implied but not explicitly spoken but the Avengers actually get paid for being Avengers. Its not really a salary as much as a stipend.

I don’t know that there’s a difference, except maybe legally. Maybe in regards to taxes. Maybe stipends don’t get income taxed and you don’t need to submit a form to the IRS.

That our Tony! Ha ha ha pay your taxes ya dink

Anyway, the weekly check is a ‘merely’ a modest stipend to defray miscellaneous living expenses. Most Avengers refuse the stipend because, well, they don’t need it! And most Avengers aren’t going to pocket a thousand dollars they don’t need just to laugh at Tony for handing out free money.

Your Thors, Iron Mans, Wasps and Antgiantyellowjacket Men.

But the Avengers that live in the mansion and have no outside means of support (definitely Hawkeye whenever he was on the team, definitely Beast and he definitely bought weed with it, Wonder Man, probably Scarlet Witch and Vision) accept the money.

Tigra: “Well, I’ll sure take it! I’m tired of being broke!”

And then she actually looks at the check.

Tigra: “Jarv, this check -- ! It’s for a thousand dollars!”

Jarvis: “If that is not sufficient, madame, I’m sure Mr. Stark would be happy to increase the amount!”

Tigra: “Increase the --! No, that’s okay, Jarv! This’ll do just fine! Whee! We’re in the money... we’re in the money!”

So according to an online calculator $1000 in 1981 dollars is worth about $2,820.56 in 2020 dollars!

Plus no rent because firemen sleep in the firehouse!

Being good really is its own reward! Where do I get some superpowers, an invitation to the Avengers, and probably a c-list fodder death in the next event!

Ok so maybe its not all great to be an Avenger. But the monetary compensation certainly sounds good to some!

And it bears mentioning that Tigra signed up to be an Avenger when all she thought she’d get out of it was a place to sleep and a chance to do hero stuff.

Anyway, Jarvis also reminds her that she has to attend the court martial meeting at four, prompting her to say “Aw! Don’t remind me of downers like that now, Jarv!”

You’re a classy person, Tigra.

Stop sexually harassing the butler and also anyone. Its just uncomfortable.

And poor Jarvis continues to be allergic to cats and giant woman cats. Poor, poor Jarvis.

As four approaches, the Avengers all start to head to the mansion for the court martial.

Iron Man as Tony Stark, normal billionaire man, cuts short a board meeting claiming another appointment. One of the board members is like lucky dog is probably off to a date with a startlet but oh ironies man, Tony would trade places with the board guy Dillworth if he could because he’s not looking forward to this.

And at Upper West Side Medical Clinic, Brilliant Perfectly Normal Surgeon Dr. Donald Blake is doing surgery when he realizes drat that Avengers meeting is soon.

So he asks the other doctors to finish up without him and takes off.

In fairness, in fairness! The patient was out of mortal peril. It was just the closing up and such that was left. But the other doctors are like look at that arrogant doctor man, he may be the best doctor on Earth but I don’t like his attitude.

And in the court martial room waits Captain America. Still stuck in that conundrum he’s been in.

Captain America: “When the court martial convenes, I don’t know how I’m going to find the courage to look Hank in the eye and then demand that he be expelled from the Avengers -- but I must... though it will be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done! I’m going to prosecute the case as best I can... because it’s my duty! But all the while I’ll be praying that they acquit you, Hank! I hope you understand!”

Cap is at least fair handed here. This is exactly the treatment he demanded for himself in the Charles Soule She-Hulk series where he asked Matt Murdock to prosecute the hell out of him and She-Hulk to be his defense in a wrongful death lawsuit.

The idea is this: if Hank is acquitted, then it clears his name without a shadow of a doubt because Cap wouldn’t have gone easy. Accountability, its a hell of a thing.

BUT NOW WE GO BACK SEVERAL HOURS to Cresskill and the casa de Wasp.

Janet woke up and found no Hank. He’s been locked in his lab since they got back from the pre-court martial three days ago. And she’s gotten worried that he’s hurt himself or gotten ill so she decides to invade his privacy a little bit.

Hank has locked the lab door but Jan can just about wriggle through the top because the insulation is a little cracked.

So she squirms into the very small gap between door and frame.

And finds Hank has built a medium giant robot.

He’s just finishing up the programming. Because he’s programming the robot (he calls it Sal, short for Salvation I) to locate and identify the Avengers visually as well as by brain-wave patterns.

Hank this is all very dubious! I can’t think of a good reason why you might secretly be building a robot and putting all of your friends’ faces in it!

But Sal’s detectors are running and its suddenly pinging two Avengers in the area, not one. And when Hank turns on the visual scan system to check, whoops! Jan’s here! Jan saw your robot!

Hank freaks out a little bit.

He slams his fist on the computer near where tiny bug her is standing and shouts.

Yellowjacket: “What are you doing here? Why did you come here? WHY?”

She tells him that she was worried because she hasn’t seen him in days but he accuses her of spying on him.

Jan reiterates that she wasn’t spying. She just wanted to make sure he was ok.

Annnnnnd. Hank decides that Jan being here is a serendipitous chance to test his new robot!

By having it attack Jan!

HANK!

Sal charges Jan and grabs her in its giant pincer hands. Jan tries blasting it with her bio-electric sting but to no effect.

As Hank brags Sal is made of invulnerable adamantium. Plus plus plus, he’s programmed to respond if she tries shrinking.

Yellowjacket: “Yeah, Sal’s a pretty tough customer... powerful enough to trash all of the Avengers together! No one can stop him -- except me, because I happen to know about his little secret weak spot! One precisely placed shot with my disruptor-blast stinger -- and Sal collapses, defeated!”

Jan then asks the pertinent question.

Hank Pym what the hell is this robot for??

Yellowjacket: “Why, I’m going to save my career, Jan! That’s what I’m going to do! Let’s be realistic, shall we? The charge against me is ‘endangering the safety of fellow Avengers and civilians through neglect’! The penalty is expulsion! They’re going to boot me out! This ‘court martial’ is just a formality!”

This isn’t a good plan. Nothing here is good. Only bad things will occur.

I’m not being silly, for a change. This is a bad scene.

It does what it intends to do, more or less. But its uncomfortable.

Jan is like c’mon don’t think like that. And Hank is like well, I’m going to give it a chance. But if things start going badly, boy howdy, I’m going to summon a robot to beat up my friends! Also Hank himself! That’s right! He programmed a robot to beat the shit out of him!

And then when things look their worst, Hank will save the day by blasting the robot in the secret weak spot and saving the day!

Jan tells him not to do this dumb thing.

Yellowjacket: “SHUT UP! I’ve got to do this! I’ve got to save the day right before their eyes! Don’t you see? It’s my only chance to redeem myself! It’s the only way!”

And there’s no way to really sugarcoat this. Hank just hauls off and hits her.

Or makes a very dramatic gesture and accidentally strikes her.

Jim Shooter has said that the hit wasn’t in the script.

Jim Shooter: “In that story (issue 213, I think), there is a scene in which Hank is supposed to have accidentally struck Jan while throwing his hands up in despair and frustration - making a sort of ‘get away from me’ gesture while not looking at her. Bob Hall, who had been taught by John Buscema to always go for the most extreme action, turned that into a right cross! There was no time to have it redrawn, which, to this day has caused the tragic story of Hank Pym to be known as the ‘wife-beater’ story.”

I don’t know. As I said last time with Gorn and Linnea, Hank is reflected in Gorn. And Gorn intentionally hit Linnea.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that it was set in stone that Hank would hit Jan. But it seems like it was foreshadowed in that way.

And here’s the thing: whether Hank intentionally hit her or not doesn’t really matter with how the story comes off and is attempting to come off.

Before he, intentionally or not, hits Jan directly he has also sicked a robot on her (and under-reacts when she says the robot is hurting her) and smashed his fist near her when she was small sized.

Any one of these would be unacceptable behavior.

And even if it was an accidental hit, Hank doesn’t express remorse or guilt or even awareness that he did a bad thing. He just keeps ranting as she’s sprawled to the floor.

Yellowjacket: “You’ve got to understand -- ! I can’t let them drum me out of the Avengers! I can’t! It’s all I have left! Since you had to stick your nose into my business, you’re in this with me now, Jan! I’ll keep it simple for you! All you’ve got to do is play along and keep your mouth shut! Got that?”

So. Yeah. Inadvertent or intentional doesn’t really change anything here. His behavior in this entire scene is beyond the pale.

So we time skip to the present of 4:27 PM, twenty-seven minutes after the start of the court martial and twenty-seven minutes of no show.

Tigra is getting frustrated.

Tigra: “I want to get this craziness over with! You know I’ve been an Avenger for a week! I feel pretty silly judging a guy who’s been around since day one!”

She asks if she can just cast a vote for acquittal preemptively and fuck off.

Iron Man says of course not! Although he thinks to himself that if it were possible, he would have done it and probably Thor too.

So that’s the situation regarding the Avengers’ thoughts on this court martial. Tigra wants to just vote to acquit because she’s only been here a week. Iron Man and probably Thor would also like to just vote to acquit. And Captain America is going to prosecute as hard as he can but is secretly hoping that Hank gets acquitted.

Far from Hank’s belief that the court martial is just a formality.

Anyway, Hank and Jan (wearing sunglasses) show up.

Yellowjacket: “Sorry we’re late! The George Washington Bridge was jammed as usual!”

Captain America: “No harm done, Hank!”

Yellowjacket: “You mean you won’t be pressing additional charge for malicious tardiness, Cap?”

Captain America: “Uh... let’s get started!”

Yeah. Off to a great start. Just. Not a good foot, Hank.

So the court martial starts! Thankfully the table has had a growth spurt or maybe got switched out for a bigger table.

So the voting will be by Tigra, Thor, and Iron Man. Wasp may participate but not vote because she’s Hank’s wife. Cap will prosecute.

And begin to prosecute he will do!

Captain America: “Four days ago, Yellowjacket blasted an enemy in the back -- an enemy who had already ceased hostilities! We all know that Hank’s no coward and not one to panic! It was a mistake... a misjudgement made on the spur of a tense, pressured moment! It could have triggered disaster!”

“But it didn’t! We were lucky! So, the temptation is to forget it... write it off! We tend to feel that way because each of us thinks that it’ll happen to us someday!”

“Wrong! We can’t let it happen! We’re the Avengers, not the Brooklyn Dodgers! One ‘error’ by one of us can cost thousands of lives! We don’t dare allow ourselves to think it’s ever all right to make a mistake!”

“Our responsibility is overwhelming! We’ve got to judge ourselves harshly! I recommend for Yellowjacket, as I would for myself, the severest possible penalty!”

So at this point Hank can please guilty to the charges and rely on the mercy of the court or defend himself from the charges.

And Hank decides to plead not guilty, of course!

Okay, so what’s your defense, Hank? You actually have a possible avenue here that Elf-Queen didn’t speak English and you were behind her so it was difficult to tell that hostilities had ceased and plus she had tossed your new teammate into space.

Are you going with something like that?

Yellowjacket: “I don’t deny the sequence of events as Cap described them... more or less! Yes, when it seemed as though the enemy had ceased fighting, my attack -- my ‘mistake’ -- seemed treacherous! But I find it odd that the great Captain America never even once considered treachery on the part of the enemy!”

“She could have been setting him up! By striking when I did, in the way I did, I may have actually saved his life! But is he grateful? No! Why not, one may ask!”

“Well, perhaps you noticed that the ‘enemy’ in question was a beautiful woman! Does he think I didn’t notice the way he was looking at her? Well it’s no wonder he’s so upset!”

“You like her, eh, Cap? And I hurt her -- and that’s why you have this vendetta against me, even though I may have saved your miserable life! Oh yes! I was actually the hero out there! Me! But, then, you turned it all around... you made a fool out of me!”

“And it worked, didn’t it? That’s when she started looking back! Isn’t it? Isn’t it? ISN’T IT?”

Yeah. That. Just sort of says it all, Iron Man.

Hank senses that maybe his rant wasn’t quite as convincing as it sounded in his head and demands Jan tell them how right he is!

Jan: “... no more! Let it end! I beg you, Hank, if you love me... let it end!”

And Thor sees her black eye and reacts in shock, asking if Hank hit her.

By the by the way, this is also why Chuck Austen’s retcon that Hank had been physically abusing Jan for a while can fuck off. Because in his telling, the Avengers knew for a while and just didn’t do anything.

And I do not like that as a concept.

So since this is going not how he’d prefer, Hank pulls the killer robot remote out of his outside pants and activates the killer robot.

Its got to be sunk cost at this point, right?

Even if he saves the day from the killer robot, does he think that they’re going to forget the black eye and his rant that really Captain America is too horny?

AND THEN THE ROBOT BUSTS IN THROUGH THE WALL AND STARTS BEATING EVERYONE UP

with a KA-BWHOOM! naturally.

The Avengers rally despite the surprise and try to fight back but the robot is made of adamantium and we know how much trouble the Avengers always have with Ultron.

Cap tries throwing his shield at Sal and it doesn’t even yield! In fact, Sal catches the shield and slams it into Cap’s chest. Possibly caving in his ribs.

Iron Man tries to draw Sal off of the others by shooting repulsors at it but Sal zooms over really quick and punches him in the chest before he can react.

At this point Hank begins to have the faintest inklings that maybe he’s done a bad, specifically in creating a killer robot and programming it to attempt murder on his friends.

Yellowjacket: “I -- I hadn’t realized just how deadly, how savage Sal would be in full attack mode! I’ve got to zap his weak point before he hurts someone bad!”

And he probably forgot that he programmed Sal to kill him too because when Yellowjacket goes for the weak point, Sal swivels around and hits Yellowjacket, sending him WHOK!ing into the wall.

Oh. Hey. Sal’s turn and smack pose is vaguely similar to the thing between Hank and Jan.

Wonder if that’s intentional.

Hank is knocked so for a loop (by a robot that, I’ll remind you, he programmed to beat him up) that he almost passes out and has to struggle to his feet.

But he has to stay conscious because he’s the only one that can stop the threat he himself created!

And since Sal is kicking the shit out of Thor, the threat that Hank himself created really is a big one!

Yellowjacket: “C’mon, Hank! Suck it up! Make the room stop whirling! Focus... focus on the weak spot! Aim... disruptors on full force!”

But Hank takes too long and Sal finishes beating up Thor and grabs Hank in his claws. And hey more mirroring maybe! Like Jan before, Hank is in Sal’s claws and is being crushed.

And to fit the mirroring, Jan comes to Hank’s rescue. But out of actual, factual real concern for Hank’s pain unlike Hank earlier not reacting to Jan’s pain.

Again, I wonder if it was intentional. And I think in this case it must be?

Its because Hank put her through this nonsense earlier that Jan knows where the weak spot is and can blast it to save the day, the Avengers, and Hank.

Sal plops over with a KLANG!

And Hank...

Is not grateful.

Yellowjacket: “Why? Why did it have to be Jan? If -- if I couldn’t do it... why her? Why? Why?”

After everything, after every way in which his own plans spectacularly crashed and burned, he’s still most concerned that Wasp outshone him?

Lets let Thor put it best.

Thor: “Thy plan... was foolish, Yellowjacket! A base and transparent ruse!”

But Yellowjacket doesn’t hear Thor or anything really.

Yellowjacket: “guess i’ll go now... guess... i’ll go.”

And he lurches out the door in a bit of a daze.

Iron Man: “Jan I -- I -- what should we do? What can we do?”

Wasp: “For me? Nothing! I’m okay... now! You know, I feel like crying... but I just don’t have any tears left!”

And that’s that.

I’ve said a lot of what I’ve had to say as we went along.

There’s more to come in this particular arc. Hank isn’t done yet!

What an ominous statement.

Follow @essential-avengers because I’m doing a good job, maybe. Please also like and reblog.

#Avengers #Yellowjacket #hank pym #the wasp #Sal the robot who offers hugs #Captain America #Thor #Iron Man #Tigra #essential avengers #essential marvel liveblogging #who would have thought a court martial would go so bad #you had THREE WHOLE DAYS to prepare your defense #geez tho geez #cw domestic abuse

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hecohansen31 · 5 years ago

Note

Could you please please continue where you left off with the foursome it is sooo good!

(A/N): Hello there, lovely!

I finally managed to continue THIS and I hope you’ll like it, mostly because I was honestly half-convinced of leaving it just like that, because it just felt better, but I managed to conjure up something and I hope it isn’t too bad.

Also: MY ASKS ARE OPEN! I am saying this because I am extremely uninspired and usually receiving prompts help me a bit, so if you want to send one in, THIS IS THE RIGHT TIME.

And now off the to the fic!

WARNINGS: Past Trauma, Mention of Fight, Idiots being Idiots, Poly-Relationship.

You had been wandering around the shopping center for the entire day, since you hadn’t felt like going home and the pretty decorations in the center were thoroughly the only thing that kept you happy.

Sometimes you would spot some couples, standing around the huge Christmas tree of the shopping center, and your stomach would flip.

You knew that not only by running away you had proven what Michael had told you, but you were also very much aware that they wouldn’t want you, anymore, at home.

Ever, again.

You entered the millionth bookshop, thinking about whether you should have gotten or not another coffee, although you felt nervous enough that you were aware tonight you wouldn’t been sleeping.

Which wasn’t such a damage since you were well aware you couldn’t come back home to sleep there, and you hadn’t been able to actually meet Violet, since she had bailed out at the last minute, something for which you were thankful since you had come there crying and had stood in your car, till you were collected enough to meet people.

Which was pretty much a lie, since you had had to rush in the first bathroom you were able to find a few minutes after you had set a foot in the shopping center.

You had still shopped a bit, mostly because as they said ‘shopping therapy is the best therapy’ and more importantly because doing gifts got your mind out of any bad thoughts you might still hold about the entire ‘incident’, which had happened that morning.

But you couldn’t help but pass through an expensive boutique and think about that time Michael got you to finally enter one, although you were scared shitless because you were sure the shopping clerks would judge you, but Michael had just grabbed your hand and marched you in.

Or think about that time that Jim had spent an entire day inside of the newest edgy surfer shop, as you passed right in front of it, watching it and going back with your mind to the time when you had commissioned Jim a new surfboard for Christmas, with symbols on it for each of his lovers.

Even the freaking bookshop you were at, smelled like Duncan and you were starting to tear up again, when somebody bumped against your shoulder, and, turning around, you almost slapped them with your shoulder.

You were surprised to find out it was actually Duncan and weren’t being crazy.

The man looked definitely not surprised to see you there, a sad smile on his face and his eyes lightly hazed as if he hadn’t been able to focus onto anything that wasn’t you, that day.

And then he crashed into you and you finally allowed yourself to be weak in front of him, crying in his chest in almost a desperate way, meanwhile he gently caressed your back, letting you cry into him, as he shielded you from anything.

When you, finally, moved away from him, he gently held you close, before he led you out in a calmer place, right next to your car, as you shivered lightly, more due to emotion than actual coldness.

“The guys have called me, after you went away, they were worried…” he gently said, although it just made you feel more guilty “… but they wouldn’t let me know what had happened”.

“… it was just a misunderstanding” you mumbled, trying to smile lightly, although it didn’t reach your eyes “… I didn’t think they would be so worried to bother you”.

“You never bother me, never ever” he gently said, before he squeezed you in his arms “… but I think that this is much more than a misunderstanding: Jimmy and Michael are screaming at each other bloody murder back at home and won’t let me in, and you are crying, and the worst is that nobody is talking and I need to know what happened, to help you all”.

You sniffled a bit, trying to calm your breathing in order to be able to talk without sobbing.

“… I… I know it is silly to be jealous of any of you… but I feel… I feel sometimes pushed out. Last night Jimmy had a nightmare and he wouldn’t listen to me, while I tried to calm down, he only followed Michael… and they… I felt left out and it hurt…” a quiet look of understanding fell onto Duncan’s face: too many time he had been left out the same way, but he also understood that they needed their own time alone “… this morning… I was pissed and I went out for a walk to clear my head… Michael and I got in an argument and then… I had to run away, I know it isn’t the best way to solve… things, but…”.

“I am not going to make you feel guilty for the way you choose to react to things, but… running away in these cases, with those two… it is… something difficult” you took a deep breath nodding slowly “… I know it firsthand how the link between Jimmy and Michael can be… but they don’t understand it, and because of that they just need to be made… aware of it, to act better and make you feel more included”.

“It isn’t just the link! I just feel like whenever… whenever somebody is hurt in our relationship, I am… I feel useless: it is almost as if you don’t think that I am strong enough to support your traumas!”.

Duncan seemed shocked by this revelation, but let you go on.

“It’s difficult for me to feel like I can only reach… certain grounds… and I am just left out… of others” you bit your lips “… it isn’t something that makes this relationship healthy, but I am… sorry for running away”.

“That was… enlightening” Duncan smirked lightly and you just punched lightly his shoulder “… you should tell that to their face, as you told this to me, on my part, I’ll try not to make you feel like that… I didn’t… think that you felt worse being excluded… I was just trying to protect you…but now I know and I am sorry”.

“I am sorry for making you worry” you mumbled as he hugged you tighter, your ears at the same level of his heart, making you hear perfectly his heartbeat, which immediately comforted you.

“Water under a bridge, lovely” he commented “… are you ready to go home?”.

Honestly… you weren’t but…your idiots needed you.

When you came home, you were rather surprised not to find the entire house trashed.

The ‘idiots’ in question were sat onto the sofa, waiting for you, since Duncan had texted them that you would be soon coming home.

You hadn’t expected the glacial silence and almost preferred the chaotic rage that Duncan had narrated you, but tried to keep your best behavior, trying not to stress yourself too much, preferring to keep calm and analyze the situation.

Whereas Jimmy was desperately looking for you, unable to talk, Michael didn’t deign you of a single glance, with a haughty air that you knew hid too well his pain.

Soon the silence became awkward and you didn’t know what to do anymore, standing there just waiting for someone to speak, but Duncan was too uninvolved to actually talk first, Michael too stubborn and Jimmy just uneasy, completely shocked.

You were their only option.

“I… am sorry, for running away, you are right Michael… it comes quite easy to me” you mumbled, meanwhile you weren’t able to look at him in the face “… but I just… I felt left off last night”.

This seemed to surprise both Jimmy and Michael, and you felt spurred on continuing your discourse.

“… I know that you aren’t doing it because… you don’t trust me, but each time you move away from me, fearing that I won’t be able to take it, it hurts me deep… it makes me feel deeply detached from each one of you… like I don’t belong here… I am useless”.

“You are not” Michael’s voice appeared crystal clear and you immediately raised your head, finding his beautiful eyes staring at you, something indecipherable in them, but you couldn’t help but feel more at ease, meanwhile Jimmy also joined in the chorus.

“We didn’t know, (Y/N), we would have… we wouldn’t have let you… feel tist way” unlike Michael’s strong voice, Jimmy’s was breaking slowly, and you just wanted nothing more than move closer and hug him, to calm and soften him “… I didn’t know… how could I fucking not…”.

“I didn’t speak about it” you mumbled, trying to reassure him “…I was jealous, which is silly to say… but I didn’t realize it… till it was too late… and I understand if you don’t want me here, anymore… itscompletelyunderstan…”.

“Deep breaths” reminded you softly Duncan, his arms gently circling around you to calm you.

“… the easy part is leaving, the hard part is… staying” spoke slowly Michael, getting up from his seat and moving in front of you, kneeling between your thighs, gently kissing one of your hands, as you quietly sobbed “… will you ever forgive me for hurting you?”.

“Just if you accept to share your stash of Christmas cookies” you joked and Michael lightly nodded, a bit of hurt still shone in his eyes but he cradled you closer, meanwhile Jimmy protested highly about being the only one left out.

And when he finally got a hold of you he softly whispered to your ear:

‘Will you forgive me for last night?’.

You just nodded softly, completely unable to deny anything to your soft Jimmy, gently kissing him on his plush lips, before Michael asked also kiss, as a jealous spoiled child, and then Duncan… and then Jimmy again.

“Well… this is truly a Christmas miracle”.

#michael langdon #duncan shepherd #jim mason #michael langdon reader #duncan shepherd reader #jim mason reader #michael langdon x reader #duncan shepherd x reader #jim mason x reader #michael langdon imagine #duncan shepherd imagine #jim mason imagine #ahs apocalypse #house of cards #the tribes of palos verdes #foursome fic #michael langdon fic

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pandoraimperatrix · 5 years ago

Text

Four Names for Love

Gotham | BatCat | BabyFic | Multi-chapter | Read on AO3

Summary: When Bruce parted ways with Gotham he was leaving behind more than he thought. Meanwhile Selina is trying to find a way to herself after being abandoned again and on top of that she finds out she was left with a lot more than a heartbreak.

——————————————————————————

Philia VII

Selina walked past Bruce ignoring him, and went straight to her daughter gathering her in her arms and holding her tight.

‘Hmmm? Mom?’ She asked sleepy and confused.

‘Helena what were you thinking?’

‘I… Are you mad?’

‘Of course I am mad! You leave the house, alone, in the middle of the night, without saying to anyone where you’re going! What do you think?’

‘Sorry, mommy.’ She pouted, her eyes big and watering.

‘Oh, I hope you are. I just don’t understand why Helena? You know you can come here all the time.’

‘Alfie wasn’t visiting anymore…’

‘Why didn’t you just call him?’

‘I thought you guys were fighting and he wouldn’t want to come to see me.’

‘Helena, what have we talked about assuming things about other people without asking first?’

‘I know, mom… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’ Helena held her mother hard, tears streaming down her cheeks.

‘Shhh kitten, don’t cry, hn? No tears.’ Selina cleaned her daughter’s tears with her thumbs. ‘That’s better. Just promise me you won’t do this again.’

‘I promise mommy. Am I grounded?’

‘Of course you are.’ Selina said still holding her daughter and rubbing her arms. ‘What the hell did you do to Holly?’

‘Oops?’

‘Jesus, Helena. Go wait in the car.’

‘It’s late, you could stay.’

Selina turned back to Bruce alarmed like she just remembered he was also there.

‘Yes, mommy! I miss my Mansion room.’

Bruce raised both of his eyebrows to that.

‘No need. We’re leaving.’ Selina said dryly.

‘Mommy!’

Selina glared hat her daughter.

‘Helena, do you really think you are in position to bargain, now?’

‘Didn’t hurt to try.’ Helena said sheepishly.

Selina raised her eyes begging for patience.

‘Go wait in the car, Helena.’

‘Okay…’ She sighed defeated. ‘Goodnight, Mr. Wayne, it was nice to finally meet you.’

‘Goodnight, Helena.’

They silently watched the little girl walk away, her dark curls bouncing.

Selina then took a deep, tired breath.

‘Thank you for keeping her safe.’ Selina said holding herself.

‘No problem. She is a very smart young lady.’

‘That she is, sometimes I think she’s too smart for her own good.’

‘She is very much like her mother, then.’

Selina felt a wave of emotions hit her so hard after those words that she knew she has to leave before embarrassing herself.

‘Are you okay? You are shaking.’ He reached his arm to touch her but Selina avoided him. Bruce put his hands in his pockets. ‘Are you sure you can drive?’

‘I’m fine.’ She managed to say in a strangled voice. ‘And I’m leaving, bye.’ She took another deep breath.

‘Selina?’ He asked when she was in the doorway.

She stopped.

‘That night, why did you pretend you didn’t know me?’

She took so long to answer that he almost thought she wouldn’t. And then he wished she didn’t.

‘Because I don’t. Goodnight, Mr. Wayne.’

Despite his tiredness Bruce didn't go to bed that night. The cave was far from being completed, but it was already in use. He had enough to make a working lab for the basics like DNA tests. He took the swab he used to collect saliva from Helena when she was sleeping from the vial in his pocket, then took another clear one and used it to collect a sample from himself. He already knew the result or hoped he did. In that moment he couldn’t say which was scarier.

Next morning exactly fifteen minutes after Helena left for school Selina heard her doorbell ring. She was in no mood to see anyone after the hell she went through the night before. And after she brought Helena home and listed the punishments she would have to face from now on – which just “apologise to Holly” was the one that would actually stick – she called Barbara to tell what happened. Then called Lee to repeat what she had just said to Barbara, assure Jim that everything was fine and that she would personally kill him if he sent cops to her place, then back to Lee to ask her if Holly would be okay. Both women tried to pry into her life and how was things now that Bruce was back and what was he like with Helena, but she ignored them.

Selina then covered Holly with a warmer and bigger blanket, checked Helena again, she was asleep and for that she was grateful. After that, when the sky was brightening and she sent a text to her boss – the proper one – that she was sick and could go that day. And then, only then, she decided to take a shower – RIP relaxing bath with fancy salts – and go to bed.

Too bad in three hours she had a kid to wake, and feed, and get ready for school, and coach a grown adult woman to take said kid to school and go to work, but she had all the intention to go back to bed after all that when the bell rang.

And behind the door was the last person she ever wanted to see her in that state: Bruce Wayne. But when he took off the shades he was wearing indoors like a hipster, she noticed that even though he was not a mess of bed hair and rumpled silk PJs like her, he was also looking like hell.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Good morning to you too, Selina. We need to talk.’

She rolled her eyes so far into her head that she went temporally blind.

‘I have nothing to talk to you, goodbye.’

She tried to close the door on his face, but Bruce stopped her.

‘I’m calling the cops!’

‘Yeah, that will happen a lot. Stop being so childish, Selina! Let me in!’

‘Oh, I did that, fifteen years ago, and what I got? A bullet in my spine.’

‘Selina, come on!’ He pushed harder, she let go, he almost fell. She smiled sadistically, but he was in. Bruce straightened himself and closed the door behind him. Selina made a beeline for the martini, she was sure whichever conversation Bruce intended to have with her, she wasn’t sober enough to stand it.

‘I’ll give you a chance to tell me, who Helena’s father is?’

She snorted, spitting the martini, then she had to put the glass back on the counter because her laugher was too strong.

‘Give me a chance? Oh my God you are so arrogant. It’s pathetic.’

‘She is mine, isn’t she? Tell me, Selina!’

The laughter was gone, her whole face was contorted with red fury now.

‘I tried to! Don’t you think I did? Ten years ago when you just left? I wanted to tell you right away, but you wasn’t here! And how dare you, appear here like I owe you something, like you deserved any kind of explanation. How dare you say that Helena is yours. She is my daughter, Bruce. Mine. You are nothing to her. To either of us.’

Bruce felt like he just have been defeated in battle and in some ways he had. He remembered his training, tried to calm himself, tried to understand where his opponent was coming from. And then he thought about the Selina he left, the despair she must have felt after being abandoned once again by someone she loved. And what must have been her reaction to find out she was also pregnant. They were so young. Bruce closed his eyes, he thought about all the extensive research he made on Helena and Selina that night and morning. How Helena had a perfectly normal life, how bright she was. How Selina had tuned her life around even if she still kept her not so honourable practices, he was proud of her, and yet he knew he had no right to be.

‘Selina…’ He tried to touch her, but they were once again set apart when the door suddenly opened.

‘Helena! What are you doing here?’

‘School sent us back home. I came walking. Hello, Mr. Wayne, are you staying for lunch?’

‘What? He is not. Why did the school send you back?’

‘Haven’t you checked your twitter yet or the TV? Scarecrow put something in the school water reservoir. A lot of sick kids having scary hallucinations.’

‘You didn’t drink it too, did you?’ To Helena’s surprise and joy the question came from Bruce.

‘Nah, I take my own bottle to school.’ Said wisely the little girl that just in the night before had roofied her own sister.

‘Oh thank God!’ Relief washed over Selina.

‘I have to go.’

‘What? Why? Stay for lunch! Mom can’t cook’ Selina gave her a mean look, but Helena ignored ‘but we can always order Thai.’

‘Although your offer is tempting, I really have to go. Bye, Selina. Until next time, Helena.’

‘Bye…’ Answered Helena gloomy.

Selina said nothing or moved to open the door to Bruce, they just held each other gazes for a while until he turned his back and left closing the door behind him. He was almost reaching the elevators when he heard his name. It was Selina.

‘Let’s talk. Later…’

‘Where?’

‘I don’t know… Hm… The cathedral? The roof.’

‘Ok. After the sunset?’

‘Fine.’

‘Selina?’

‘What?’

‘Thank you.’

#batcat #baby batcat #gotham #selina kyle #bruce wayne #catwoman #batman #my fic #Four Names for Love

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su8arandspite · 6 years ago

Text

For Old Time’s Sake

Summary: It’s 1995 in Hawkins. When Heather Johnson returns home for the Hawkins High School reunion, she comes face to face with an old lover. Or, alternatively, the one where Steve falls in love with Heather all over again.

Steve Harrington x oc

Warnings: 18+, mature content, smut

Tags: @casaharrington

The town of Hawkins kept its secrets well. From the outside, and to every kid who made a run for it after high school, not much about the town changed. Small town stillness washed over the buildings and suburban homes that Heather Johnson passed on the drive home to her parents’ place. If not for the empty lot where the Dairy Queen had been and the newly painted houses, Hawkins could have been a time machine to 1985.

She parked curbside outside of her childhood home. Through the trees, just past the Harrington home, she could vaguely make out the ruins of what was once Hawkins Lab. Even abandoned, it brought bile to her throat. When Heather left Hawkins, danger eschewed the rosy lens of childhood she knew it under. Time blurred and muddied her memories, but fleeting images of a boy with a baseball bat comforted her; whatever it was, they defeated it together.

Heather yanked the keys from the ignition. She didn’t come back to dig up old nightmares. Steadying her breath, she hauled her suitcase from the hatch of her car into her old home. Whatever she saw ten years ago in that shadowy building couldn’t hurt her now.

She retired to her bedroom that night with a head swimming in unsaid words and forgotten dreams she bottled up and left here in Hawkins. Traveling through the hallways of her parents’ house brewed an unwelcome, lonely sense of dejavú that could swallow Heather whole.

The door closed softly behind her. Heather looked to the window next door, partially out of habit, partially wrapped up in foolish hope, but instead found the curtains drawn. She longed for the secret notes passed through window panes on late nights and the stolen kisses as he stumbled into her bedroom. That was- they were- long gone now.

Now, standing alone in her girlish lilac bedroom, she felt like a stranger in her own life. The knick-knacks, trophies, polaroids, and photo booth strips belonged to someone else entirely. She thumbed over the picture frame sitting proudly on her nightstand, swiping the dust away from the picture-perfect memory of two smitten teens. Her mother must have retrieved it from the floor and replaced it sometime after she left. The crack down the center obscured her face, but she cared more about the way Steve looked at her. Just as she let herself want, her finger caught on the crack and blood sullied the cheap frame. Cursing, she cushioned the wound between her lips to dull the bleeding.

Heather Johnson blossomed into her own person through the past decade; she had a place to call her own, a job she felt passionately for, everything she once doubted she could earn without her Daddy’s help. Something about Hawkins, though, made that woman shrink slowly back into the scared girl who ran away from it.

High school for Heather looked picture perfect. In some ways, it had been, yet a part of her always felt sandwiched into the tiny pond that Hawkins was and desperate to swim upstream into the outside world. For someone with as many friends and as surrounded by people as Heather the Cheerleader had been, she never felt more lonely. Her friends’ parents worked boring desk jobs that required no traveling and most of them had one boyfriend or another to waste their time with. She kissed as many boys as she could just trying to make up for the loneliness she felt in her parents’ absence; it always found its way back. Until Steve.

Steve Harrington lived next door. He talked too much, slept around quite a bit, and had a poor taste in friends. Heather might nod along and listen as Laurie or Becky rambled off reasons why he could not be trusted, but she never cared to listen. She liked to think she knew Steve perfectly well.

The first time Heather met Steve, she might have agreed with what her friends thought of him. They knew each other only through summer block parties and whatever other events their parents dragged them to until 1982. That summer leading up to sophomore year changed a lot for Heather; her body filled out and her Dad started leaving home more. She took up a job lifeguarding at the community pool and returned to school in August sunkissed, slightly curvy, and in need of a little trouble. Steve, who received a shiny new BMW for his sixteenth birthday, looked exactly like the kind of trouble she wanted.

She had him completely, utterly wrapped around her finger by the end of September. Heather and Steve soiled every inch of that car as summer came to autumn. She only meant to distract herself, but her desire for fire and trouble died down into an ache for the boy next door. Heather let herself love him wholly. Steve became her future; he tamed her rebellious spirit into a lovestruck girl who wanted only for him to stay with her forever.

Forever, for Heather and Steve, instead became the beginning of junior year. He stomped on her heart and spit it right back at her. As Heather pulled back to lick her wounds, Steve zeroed in on his next prey. Nancy Wheeler stood for everything Heather could never be. Girls like Nancy didn’t just offer up their virginities to the first boy who called them pretty or invent their own hangover cures out of necessity. Heather hated the thought of Steve with someone like that, because she could never be half as good. Good girls like Nancy shone like blank canvases void of any tarnish and squeaky-clean enough to bring home to Mom; Heather the Whore and her Father-sized baggage could never compete with a girl like that.

Even now, the sight of that swimming pool nauseated her. Mr. Harrington had it drained years ago, but she only saw the very end of Barbara Holland’s life, the thing that took her, and the boy she still loved already falling for Nancy Wheeler, all right outside her bedroom window. Heather yanked her curtains shut. The demogorgon might be unreachable now, but nothing so far healed her battered little heart.

---

“Joey, you little shit! Let go of your sister’s hair”

Heather clung to the kitchen island, watching as the red-headed toddlers tornadoed across the living room. Carol stormed out of the bedroom sporting only one shoe and looking more grown up than Heather ever imagined she would be. Tommy and Carol’s wedding unsurprisingly predated the prompt birth of their first child by mere months. Between the two nightmares currently messing up their house and the heavily pregnant bump in her purple gown, Carol looked about one temper tantrum away from a spectacular breakdown of her own.

However exhausted parenthood and married life looked to someone like Heather, that new sheen in Carol’s eyes and the bizarrely adult change in Tommy’s demeanor suggested otherwise. The life of a Hawkins housewife, with all its cliquey glory and PTA snobs, suited Carol’s catty nature and, to everyone’s surprise, fatherhood had calmed Tommy’s recklessness. Heather took one look at their messy, chaotic, love-filled life, and her confidence crumbled. Her life in New York outpaced anything Hawkins could offer her, but she couldn’t pretend that she had once not wanted anymore more than this life with Steve.

“For fuck’s sake Tommy, would you hurry up?”

Carol herded her husband towards the door, cursing under her breath at his inability to correctly tie a necktie. If not for the wedding rings and Carol’s baby bump, Heather might have mistaken the scene for a recreation of their senior prom night.

Heather piled into the backseat of Carol’s mini-van. Tommy stuck his head out of the driver’s seat as they sped off to Hawkins High, screaming:

“Class of ‘85, motherfuckers!”

Carol yanked him back into the car by the collar. She added a swift smack to the head for good measure. Heather smiled to herself; at least some things never did change.

As the burgundy minivan pulled into the spot once reserved for Heather’s Jeep, she saw her life from the outside. Without the safety of her green and white cheerleading outfit, Hawkins High School looked a whole lot less impressive than back in the day.

Tommy and Carol dispersed into the crowd not long after their arrival, while Heather gravitated towards the open bar. She greeted passersby who recognized her and watched the crowd swell. She stirred her drink absently and watched the night unfold around her.

Old cheer squad members earned careers in fashion or television or teaching. Her third grade best friend married her ninth grade lab partner. Old Hawkins friends gathered like nothing ever changed, but Heather felt acutely aware that everything had.

Meanwhile, Steve tore himself away from a conversation with a few classmates he only vaguely remembered. He stopped a few feet away from her, as if unsure whether or not to proceed.

Time dealt Steve Harrington the short hand. He stayed in Hawkins, he told himself, not out of fear but just to keep an eye on things for a while. Jim Hopper promised to call if any more monsters popped up. No need, he said. I think I’ll stick around a while longer. First, Nancy and Jonathan Byers, even Billy Hargrove, graduated and took the fast track out of town. By the time Dustin and Lucas and Mike and the rest of the rugrats set off to college, Steve was fresh out of excuses.

Hopper took a quick visit down to the record store where Steve took up a job to pay his bills. He leaned down over the counter Steve worked behind and lowered his voice:

“What the hell are you still doing here, kid? We both know you don’t belong in this shithole.”

“Yeah,” he deadpanned. “You’re probably right”

Hopper, more a father to Steve than his own ever was, refused to let him give up like this. Where Steve saw in himself the self-righteous asshole who vandalized the town movie theater, Hopper saw the young man who readily put his own life on the line to save those kids.

“Look, I don’t really care what you do,” he lied. “Just quit feeling sorry for yourself and do something with your life.”

The next morning, Hopper arrived at the station to find Steve Harrington sitting with his tail between his legs in the chair facing his desk. By that time the next year, he was the latest member of the Hawkins PD. And a damn good one at that, he might add.

For the first time in his life, Steve had everything he could want. Everything, that is, except someone to share it with.

His heart skittered as he worked up the courage to get Heather alone. He’d heard that she came alone and wanted little more than to catch her attention. Things ended so badly between them- his fault, really- that he hardly imagined she wanted to see him again. So, with the same sense of humility as that fateful morning in Chief Hopper’s office, he tapped her shoulder:

“Save me a dance? For old time’s sake.”

Gooseflesh rippled her bare arms; she would recognize that voice anywhere. Heather set her cocktail glass on the bar, turning her head towards him. He looked the spitting image of the nervous boy who first asked to take her out to the movies. Hands scrunched in his suit pockets, and sporting the very same crooked smile she remembered, Steve Harrington stood before her.

Heather’s powder blue dress blended well with her skin tone in the dim gym lighting and her dark hair popped against the fabric. His heart swelled at the sight of her standing in the very same gym they shared their first kiss in. Steve wondered how he ever let a girl like that slip through his fingers.

“Okay,” she said. “For old time’s sake”

He led her by the hand to the makeshift dance floor, feeling for the first time in ages the sweaty anticipation of a lovestruck school boy. Her rosy cheeks swelled with a smile in tandem with her shaky hands as they locked between the ducktail of hair at the nape of his neck. His hands resting easily on her hips, they danced.

“Y’know,” he chuckled. “I really didn’t expect to see you again. I’m glad I did”

The way he looked at her, even after all these years, sent Heather to the verge of tears; no one had looked at her like since she was a teenager. Since she and Steve were in love.

“Yeah,” her voice came out soft and small. “Me, too.”

They’d come full circle. Although life led them in different directions, and took Heather and Steve to the wrong people in their journey to find the love they first had in each other, it seemed their story looped back to that dingy old gym. Steve knew the second he saw her that tonight would be a whole lot more than reminiscing with a lost lover. Even if Heather didn’t know that, yet, Steve didn’t mind waiting.

Steve would wait forever for her if it only meant that he could see that smile one last time. The way her brown eyes sparkled in the dim lighting, the way her hips filled out the fabric of her gown, the way her delicate touch ghosted over him as they danced; Heather was filled with reminders of the way he once loved her. The way Steve still loved her.

Heather cupped his cheek, stroking it with her thumb and watching after him with a melancholy smile.

“I am so proud of you,” she whispered.

Heather clung to her once-lover long past the end of slow songs, the two swaying to synthetic pop tunes. It seemed that each of them darted around fears that, should they let go of each other, they might never get the chance to do so again. Whether she admitted it to herself or not, Heather let herself believe that, maybe, she was always meant to find her way back to him. She felt not like an adult but once again like a teenage girl nervously dancing with the prom date of her dreams.

He nuzzled his nose forward against her cheek. His hot breath fanned out against her skin and pulled her in even more. The sweet, mesmerizing scent of Steve’s rosewood cologne, the ghost of spearmint chewing gum, and a hint of musk hypnotized Heather. As he finally kissed her, Heather folded into his touch. The kiss was a decade in the making, the kind featured on movie screens and cheesy discount novels. Every word they were too afraid to speak into existence and all their repressed emotions poured into the kiss.

Reluctantly, he broke off the kiss. Only as the final song of the night faded into its closing note did Heather pull herself away from his warmth. Steve stole a quick kiss to her cheek. They walked slowly towards the edge of the dance floor.

“Here,” he said. Steve draped his sports coat over Heather’s shoulders.

Hair bouncing along with his lopsided grin, Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of Heather and that captivating laugh of hers. Even as she led him away from the dance floor, Steve found himself absorbed in her. Her neatly styled hair fell rebelliously out of place, the heat on her cheeks and perspiration from nerves and the dancing all adding just the right amount of lived-in smudge to her make-up. Heather looked radiant. The words fell out of his loose lips like thoughts so strong that his mouth couldn’t contain them:

“You’re beautiful.”

She slumped into a seat, letting out a breathy laugh. He slid into the empty chair beside her. Although his mind seemed acutely aware that they were running on borrowed time, Steve swore that the night would last forever. Time was edging on despite his best efforts to run backwards against the current; he would never be fifteen again, and their relationship would never be from a clean slate again.

She thanked him quietly. Another stolen kiss followed. The night grew thin around them, their classmates retiring to whatever lives they put on pause for the night's trip down memory lane, but neither could be bothered to tear themselves away. Heather was quiet for some time afterwards, trying to make sense of her emotions. Steve turned to her, forehead pulled in thought:

“We made quite the mess, didn’t we?”

Heather paused, tearing herself away from the fears of yesterday. Her eyes flickered to him. She smiled sadly. All Steve has to do was stay. When it was Heather’s turn to choose Steve, she decided to run instead. It seemed neither of them had the courage to face the very real feelings between them that even time and betrayal couldn’t seem to erase.

“Yeah,” she said eventually. “We sure did.”

He chuckled dryly, rubbing his palms together in thought. The universe seemed to laugh at them, to revel in the tragedy of their bad timing; love itself just wasn’t enough to make them work. His eyes begged Heather to ease his nerves. Steve needed Heather to give him some sign that this was more than just in his head.

“Why is this so hard for us?”

The worry in his tired face looked all too familiar to Heather. A sinking feeling returned to her stomach.

It wasn’t until the summer after graduation that Heather let herself start to forgive Steve for breaking her heart. With the drama and confines of high school now behind them, Heather and Steve vowed to make that summer theirs. A last hurrah of bad decisions with minimal consequences. What they intended to be a string of crashed house parties and getting drunk by the quarry instead was a summer filled with late-night conversations on the hood of Steve’s car. With Heather often teetering between sunburnt and sun-kissed after a shift at the community pool and Steve sticky and burnt out from serving ice cream at Starcourt Mall, they lacked much time or energy to live out the summer they outlined.

Neither of them really minded the extra time to themselves. In fact, Steve soon found himself excited for his shift to end and comforted by the knowledge that Heather was waiting for him in the parking lot, food in hand. By late June, Heather had his order memorized and Billy Hargrove had stopped trying to get her to hang around with him past closing time. That was how they found themselves devouring take out from Dairy Queen, still in their work uniforms, and sitting closer than necessary on the BMW.

She wiped the grease from her fingers with a napkin, laughing. Heather caught a glimpse of Steve in her peripheral vision- dripping with happiness, a shine to his eyes, his Scoops Ahoy sailor hat sagging lowly on his head.

Having Heather back in his life, even if only for brief, stolen moments on the hood of his BMW and late summer nights thick with their past, the future; it patched up the broken parts of his battered heart. She felt like home. It might only be for the summer, but Steve fully intended to hold onto every second with Heather that he could.

“Hey, Steve?”

He looked so eager, so happy to see her. Steve wouldn’t even know what hit him. That summer, he slowly tore down the walls their break-up built against her and she knew from the start that she couldn’t take him with her. The thing about running away from her problems, it seemed, was that Heather had to abandon every good thing in her life right along with the bad. Unfortunately, that included Steve.

She knew she should have told him from the beginning, that she never should have let herself get that close to him again so soon before leaving town. Heather should have told him, and yet she couldn't bring herself to break it to him. Not that Heather hadn’t tried to; she had, many times. It just hurt too much.

His laughter tapered off into an inquisitive hum.

“Do you ever think about leaving Hawkins?”

Maybe it had treated him less than kindly the past year or so, but it was still the only home Steve had ever known. The thought of skipping town never crossed his mind. He decided a long time ago that he would stand his ground and fight until his dying breath if he had to- Steve was braver, more stubborn than Heather that way. Another reason she would tell herself they didn’t work out; Steve Harrington was a fighter but Heather Johnson was a survivor. And sometimes that meant putting herself first.

“No, I can’t say that I have. Why?”

She shrugged, uncharacteristically shy:

“I don’t know,” she balled the napkin up into a makeshift stress ball. “I-I just think maybe I need to get out of this town, Steve. Parts of me can’t seem to shake what I saw, what I did-“

She let Barbara Holland die. Heather watched from her bedroom and did nothing as the thing ate her whole. And when she saw the damn thing again, she hadn’t been strong enough to kill it. She couldn’t save its future victims.

“Hey,” Steve pulled her under his arm. “Don’t say that, okay? You did what you could… We all did. It’s not your fault.”

Tilting her chin upwards with his fingertips, Steve pressed a meaningful kiss to her lips. She leaned into him. His embrace quieted her thoughts enough to mute her worries away. It wasn’t the first kiss they shared that summer, but something hid behind it that made Heather unable to shake him- so much so that she lost her nerve to break the news to him. She left Hawkins the next morning, while Steve dreamt of seeing her again.

The guilt ate at her from the inside out until the town she once loved only suffocated her with living nightmares and her own inadequacies. Deep down, Heather knew that running away from her problems would not solve anything. Still, she craved a change of scenery, an escape from the reminders of what Hawkins truly was under its all-American suburban facade. Hawkins was, quite simply, home to the gates of Hell and Heather didn’t want to stick around and wait for them to crack their way open again.

They had, eventually, done just that; only, Heather wasn’t by Steve’s side that July Fourth when he needed her the most.

Steve stood abruptly, offering her his hand:

“You want to get a drink?”

Nodding, she smiled. The last thing she wanted was to leave Steve’s side. Heather took his hand and followed him through the parking lot. They walked in a comfortable silence. She squeezed his hand in hers.

“Steve?”

The pair paused beside his car. Heather glanced up at him with the guilt of a child caught breaking their parents’ valuables while playing inside the house.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you I was leaving,” she paused. “I should have.”

Steve’s eyes softened. He brushed loose hair from her face, smiling sadly.

“I know you are,” he said. “It’s okay, Heather. That was a long time ago.”

Forgiven or not, Heather still juggled her feelings of guilt and lingering feelings for Steve between stolen glances on the drive home. He may have absolved her, but Heather still needed

to forgive herself first.

“Come on,” Steve opened the passenger door. “How ‘bout that drink?”

---

The pair of them stumbled into Steve’s old bedroom between stolen kisses and wandering hands. Retracing steps from a lifetime ago, they fumbled blindly in the dim lighting, too utterly consumed in each other to care much for the world outside those walls. There was only the electric rush of pure, raw sexual chemistry and unresolved feelings.

Steve pulled back momentarily, lips dripping in unspoken words. Heather shook her head, stroking his cheek sensually with her thumb:

“Not now, Steve,” she shushed him, her waiting kiss soaking up his silent fears.

He pulled her hips flush against his torso, working blindly on her dress zipper. Steve’s rough palms explored every inch of her flesh that he could reach. He pinched purple hickies into the crook of her neck, chasing after her as her head flopped in pleasure. Heather hadn’t let anyone mark her skin that way in years. Steve made her feel young again, like his touch was the Fountain of Youth and she was Ponce de Leon, drinking him in deeply.

Her dress pooled on the floor around her feet as Steve pushed the thin straps from her shoulders. She looked even more mesmerizing than he remembered. Heather grew into her curves; time transformed her from a bewitching teenage beauty to the woman of Steve’s dreams. And he wanted to feel, to taste, every inch of her.

Spreading her legs apart ever so slightly, Steve dropped to his knees before her. He thumbed at her through the meager fabric of her lace panties. Another hickey on her smooth upper thigh. He groaned at the smell of her arousal. His expert mouth latched hungrily onto her core through the fabric.

Heather wriggled in pure, hot pleasure against his magical lips. Her fingers dug into his scalp, pulling on his hair just the way she knew drove him crazy. Steve pushed aside her panties, buried his nose, his lips into her most sensitive nerves. She tasted like heaven to him, the mere sight of her writhing above him an ethereal vision. Her taste dizzied him and Steve coddled her closer to his lips.

Steve loved the chase almost as much as the kill itself. He knew what he was doing, and knew he was damn good at it, too. If Steve had been a wolf in the bedroom as a teenager, then the only thing to stop him now was a silver bullet. And Heather was his full moon.

Her first orgasm hit hard and unexpectedly early, received by Steve’s eager tongue. He pulled her in by the neck for another kiss. The salty taste of her own arousal clinging to his breath intrigued Heather; touching Steve turned all her other experiences into blurry non-memories. Touching Steve felt like coming home after a long day.

The sight of Steve in all his naked glory sent Heather into a tizzy. She licked teasingly along his length, easing her way into giving him the head of his life. As she worked, Heather focused in on the bliss reflected in his face.

“Jesus,” he whined. “I forgot how good you were at that.”

Eager to be inside her, Steve reluctantly pulled her back up to her feet. He backed her up against the bed. Heather melted back against his pillows, a siren waiting for him to fall right into her trap. He kneeled over her figure. Steve kissed her sweetly. One hand thumbed at her clit. In one fluid motion, he pushed inside her.

Steve loved the way she clung to her. Her touch only egged him on. Steve rutted into her deeply. He made love to her with a veracity and dedication that put every other man she’d been with to shame. It was only Steve.

With one final grunt sandwiched by her name, Steve came deep inside of her.

She fell back against his sheets, spent in a fucked-out bliss. Heather felt her life in the city slipping further from her mind the more Steve Harrington and his magnificent cock drew her to a future here.

“Do you remember what you said to me the night Nancy and I broke up?”

Heather hummed in her sleepy daze, nodding:

“Sure, I do.”

“Did you mean it?”

She rolled over on the pillow to face him, fully awake now. Heather blinked through the darkness. Grasping in the dark, she clamped their hands together. From behind his messy hair, Steve looked like a shivering puppy left out in the rain. A soft smile graced her lips. She thought of the last time she saw that look.

“She never loved me.”

Nancy might have been the good girl toying around with Hawkins’ playboy, but instead she tore Steve to shreds and ran for the hills. Now, he wanted someone to sympathize with him. Heather, though, had no room in her life to be anyone’s second choice.

Heather tossed the hat to her candy striper costume on the duvet, sighing. She pawed at the vomit stain on her skirt with a damp towel. Perhaps the only person in town who had missed Steve and Nancy’s fallout, Heather left Tina’s party early to lull a dangerously intoxicated Brittany Matthews home before she ruined anyone else’s costume.

“What? Why are you even here, Steve?”

“I don’t know,” he shrunk down. “This is the first place I thought of.”

Oblivious to his pity party, Heather fussed about. She tried to clean the night’s memory of her drunken, sophomore team mate nearly passed out on Tina’s front porch right off her dress right along with the stain.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Steve?”

“Nancy,” he suddenly fell sheepish. “She never loved me.”

Heather watched after him, incredulous. Her hands gripped at the soiled towel as she bit her tongue. Steve, craving some sort of reaction from her, pressed on:

“I should have known,” he sulked. “I mean…God, when did I become such a fuck-up? This is bullshit. Of course it was. I should have known no one could love me-”

“Oh, fuck you! I did! I loved you so much, Steve. You had to have known that.

“What? Heather-”

“You broke my fucking heart, Steve. I’m not about to pretend that I didn’t see this coming and I’m sure as hell not your shoulder to cry on”

She tossed the soiled washcloth right at his chest. If Steve hadn’t been crying before, he sure was now. Still no movement.

“But-“

“I think you should leave.”

When he made no moves to do so, some part of her snapped right along with the last string of her heart that still reached out for Steve. She plucked the picture frame from her nightstand, their picture, and chucked it towards him, only narrowly missing his head. It landed on the floor under her dresser, as cracked and broken as their relationship, where it stayed until well after Heather graduated and left home.

“Get the fuck out, Steve.”

He faltered a moment, her words hitting him full-force with the one thing he must have known and feared but chose to ignore for the past year. Thick layers of tears caked his cheeks. Steve moved slowly and fluidly back towards the window he snuck in through, hoping all the while that he might uncover some magic words to undo the damage he slung onto her poor heart. He found only silence, and by the time his feet hit the ground, Steve knew he’d really done it this time.

He wanted only to be the carefree fifteen-year-old who got to kiss her in secret moments shared in the backseat of his BMW and late at night in her bedroom, when her parents were asleep. Steve wanted Heather back, but this was too little, too late. She locked the window behind him.

Looking at him now, her heart ached. The stubborn parts of her hadn’t forgiven him for breaking her heart all those years ago. Yet, she mostly just wanted him.

“Yes.”

Steve pressed his lips lightly to her knuckles.

“For what it’s worth, I loved you too.”

Steve leaned over the extra pillows to face her.

When Steve awoke the next morning, he found himself surprised to see her messy hair splayed out across the pillow beside him, and utterly bewitched by the sight of Heather curling into the sheets as she slept soundly in his bed. He thought, though not for the first time in his life, that he might like to wake each day to the sight.

Later, as he walked her to her car, the idea still bounced around his mind. He grabbed at her hips, using every last drop of cheekiness to woo her away from that car. Steve let Heather go once before and he spent the next ten years regretting it.

“Stay.”

“You know I can’t.”

“What’s keeping you?

She exhaled with a soft laugh. Her home, her friends, her career, all waited for her back in the city. The only thing Hawkins, Indiana had that New York City didn’t was Steve Harrington.

“I’m sorry,” she kissed his lips sweetly. “Goodbye, Steve.”

He stood at the curb, hands balled into his shorts pockets, and watched her drive off until the Honda turned out of sight. Steve smiled after her, sporting the same smile he’d flashed the first time he told her his name, only this time a bitterness hid behind it.

Like Lot’s wife fleeing Sodom, Heather knew better than to turn around, knew his puppy dog eyes would trap her here forever, melt her down into a pillar of salt. And, like Lot’s wife, she did anyways.

She knew she’d see him again, if only in her dreams.

-----

Heather nervously twirled the phone cord around her finger. She stared at the slip of paper and dialed his phone number, her mind stuck over the words. The last time she felt this afraid, Heather lodged an axe into the neck of an interdimensional monster. This time, though, she knew that wouldn’t solve her problems.

“Steve? I need to see you.”

The trek to Indiana did little to calm her nerves. She drove silently, the radio turned down to silence. No matter how many times Heather practiced the speech in her head, it didn’t get any easier.

She stood at his doorstep. Fiddling with her hands, she contemplating blowing him off. Heather felt out of place at his apartment. To her, Steve would always be the boy next door. No matter what happened tonight. She thought of him always as he was then- handsome, full of life, brimming with dreams. Full of love for her.

When he opened the door to let her in, Steve couldn’t dull his smile. He looked almost the same as the boy in her memories. The love hadn’t quite left his eyes yet. It was with the comfort of this thought that she stepped inside.

Steve’s apartment was neat, small, homely. She could see him settling down before the TV with a beer or fussing over his hair in the mirror by the door. The thought made her smile.

He sat down with her on the couch, hands clasping with hers. His bright eyes watched her closely, waiting and ready to accept her back into his life.

“Is everything okay? You sounded upset on the phone.”

“I just- I wanted to talk.”

“Talk?”

He blinked. Steve knew this song and dance and he was tired of trying to keep her here. Tired of letting her toy with his heart.

“I haven’t seen or heard from you in months and you came all this way just to talk?”

Steve told himself he would hear her out, but his emotions got the best of him. He raised his voice in frustration. The abrupt shift in tone caught her off guard. She hadn’t meant to upset him. Heather deflated in her seat, the speech she’d had prepared now stuck in her throat.

“Forget it,” she rose. “I don’t even know why I came here.”

He followed her out onto the sidewalk. Heather walked out of his life too many times for him to let her go again.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know! Home, I guess.”

“Don’t you dare walk away from me again!”

The brunette stopped in her tracks, whirled around to face him. Angry, frustrated tears welled in her eyes. He stood just close enough for her to touch. Close enough for her to feel his heart breaking.

“And why not? We both already know how this ends.”

“I love you so much that it hurts. Why can’t you just admit that you want this, too?”

“That’s not why I came back, Steve.”

“Well, then, what? Is this some kind of a game to you-“

“I’m pregnant.”

His expression blanked. Steve didn’t know the first thing about fatherhood. His own gave him next to nothing to start from; the last thing he wanted was to find himself repeating his father’s shitty parenting style. He liked to think that he had finally shed the damage his absentee parents did to him, and that he had found a way to fill the gap their cold demeanor created where affection should have been in his childhood, but that didn’t stop his fears of repeating the vicious cycle.

Heather looked just as afraid.

“Do you really think we’re ready to be parents?”

“No,” he held her hand tighter in his. “But I know that I’m not my father and we can learn from our parents’ mistakes. You’re my future, Heather”

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course, I do.”

They sat together on his front porch steps. Silence engulfed them for a moment as her earth shattering news settled in. Fear crept back up on Heather the longer he stayed quiet. Did Steve want to raise this child with her? Did he want her? Her questions and insecurities were overwhelming.

She broke into tears. “I’m scared, Steve.”

“Me, too.”

He held her close to his chest as she cried. A few tears slipped from his own eyes. Steve combed his fingers through her hair and whispered comforts into her ear. Suddenly, he saw a future for himself. A modest, comfortable cottage with a nice yard for the kids to play in, maybe a dog too, and Heather standing beside him with all the love in the world in her eyes. It was comforting, warm. He wanted that future, with her.

“Stay here, with me. I love you, Heather, and I want to raise this baby with you, if you’ll have me.”

Sniffling, she turned her chin upwards to face him.

“Okay,” she said. “Yes, I will. I love you, too, Steve.”

As he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, Steve knew that everything would turn out okay. He loved Heather Johnson and that was enough for him.

#steve harrington #stranger things #hawkins #school reunion #angst #smut #steve harrington smut #lost love #fanfic #steve harrington x oc #female oc #new #send feedback

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dcarevu · 5 years ago

Text

Batman TAS: Tyger, Tyger

“Kong carried her off. I mean, we’re talkin’ primal here.”

Episode: 42 Robin: No Writers: Cherie Wilkerson (teleplay), Michael Reaves (story), and Randy Rogel (Story) Director: Frank Paur Animator: Dong Yang Airdate: October 30, 1992 Grade: C

Alright, so what the hell kind of episode was that, anyway? I’ve been noticing that as of recent, the tone of Batman TAS is shifting. We’re not so much getting the Two-Face stories, the P.O.V. type of episodes or the It’s Never Too Late-style entries. Night of the Ninja was the start of it, feeling different than the typical, but Tyger, Tiger is where we possibly get the most experimental yet, and the most fantastic. Yeah, our first episode featured a mad scientist turning into a giant bat, but we still got exposure to the police force, we were in the city, and for the most part it felt like a Batman episode, did it not? This one did not, and while not awful, it’s not one of my favorites. It rubs me in some wrong ways, and I find it struggling to watch. I get too weirded out.

We start out at the Gotham zoo, and we see Selina Kyle again. Always cool to see what comes next in her story. Dong Yang is in charge of animation here, but unfortunately we don’t get to see her in her costume to take advantage of it. Some creepy guy who we find out in part gorilla or some type of ape shoots her with a tranquilizer dart and kidnaps her from the zoo. Selina sneaking into the place after hours to see the oddly-colored tiger is pretty dorky. It borders a bit on pushing her cat gimmick too far, but it’s better than in Cat Scratch Fever where we just so happen to get an episode all about cats and it just so happens to feature Selina. In Tyger, Tyger it comes off a little bit more naturally since her Catwoman persona is the reason she’s being kidnapped in the first place, giving a reason to much of the cat-themed elements we’ll get.

So after Selina is kidnapped, we see that she has been taken to a lab so that this red-headed scientist (who almost looks like he has devil horns because of his hairstyle) can experiment on her, and turn her into this cat-like creature. Coincidentally, Jim Cummings provides three of the voices this episode, including the voice of Tybrus, another laboratory experiment. Cummings also voiced a cat-creature in Scooby Too on Zombie Island, and I was hoping we’d get a voice like that. Or even a model like that. Tybrus is supposedly the ultimate life-form, and I’m not sure if he was ever human at any point. I got the impression that he was concocted in a way similar to Frankenstein’s monster, taking different elements from different creatures and forming something completely new. His design is pretty neat, resembling a feline-esque werewolf, but again, I wish he could have looked a little more like Jacque from Zombie Island (I am aware that this episode came out long before that, though). Oh, and I suppose there is a little bit of an elephant in this room. In the credits to the episode, and basically every online resource, his name is spelled “Tygrus”. But watching the episode, they clearly say “Tybrus”, so that’s how I’m going to spell it. Someone made a mistake somewhere, and I would assume it’s more likely for it to be a typo than a mispronunciation, considering how many times his name is said.

Selina gets injected by the doctor in a pretty horrific scene. She is strapped down, and we get to watch her silhouette as the sciency stuff is put right into her neck.

Meanwhile, Batman has a chat with Dr. Langstrom who was the one that transformed into the Man-Bat in the very first episode of the series. Yeah, not only has the tone been shifting a little bit lately, continuity has been playing a bigger role. Dr. Langstrom tells Batman about Emile Dorian, the scientist, and shows Batman one of his experiments, which looks to be a cat-monkey hybrid. It’s kinda cute.

Worrying for Selina, and knowing of Dorian’s habit of experimenting on humans, he finds Dorian’s lab which is located on a privately-owned island, and breaks in. Here we, along with Batman, see Selina in her new body. And wowzers. What the hell. I hate it, guys, I hate it. What am I looking at here. This does not look like a Bruce Time design at all, and ahhh, where do I begin. First of all, she’s this kinda ugly mustard-color. And I get that thus far we’ve seen Selina Kyle as a blonde, but we needed some addition shading or something in there. It’s so matte, and that extends to her fur-texture in general. She looks kinda like plastic, and when you add I the lines that separate her legs from her torso, it really is a grotesque look. Selina could look beautiful as a cat-creature. And this is what they went with.

The rest of the episode involves Batman needing to outrun Tybrus in order to obtain Dorian’s antidote for Selina. Some of the animation here is top-notch, and I feel like it’s been a little while since we’ve seen the show look this heavily-stylized. There is also a lack of music, which is always used to great effect on this show. And when there is music, it aids the story perfectly. When we first see Selina’s catlike body, the stringed instruments spit into this warped frenzy that highlights how actually messed up this guy Dorian is. As Batman is pursued, we get hints of the story The Most Dangerous Game which was a great read when I was in middle school. I guess The Island of Doctor Moreau is referenced too (I’ve never read it) and of course The Tyger. But not being familiar with those, I just caught The Most Dangerous Game. Eventually, Batman and Selina meet up, only to be confronted by a Tybrus who can apparently speak English. Tybrus has been told by Dorian that if Batman is killed, he can have Selina all to himself, something that is simply not true (Selina wants no part of this weird-ass relationship). It’s a little uncomfortable to see Tybrus attempting to court this hideous-looking version of what was once a human. But at the same time, after Dorian is defeated by Tybrus, it’s somehow so sad to see Tybrus refuse to leave with Batman and Selina. Before giving them the antidote, Tybrus asks Selina if she’d like to stay as a cat and live with him. When she says “no”, he seems to almost take this as an end to any hope of him feeling as though he belongs and being happy. Knowing that Selina doesn’t ever want to remain the type of creature that he has no choice in being must be really, really painful. We end with him making his way back into the forest of the island, destined to live alone. It’s a really deep dilemma that justifies some of the weird things the episode pitches. Of course, slightly before this, the episode tries to trick us into thinking Tybrus is dead, and this didn’t really work. I did laugh at the idea, though, of Batman saying, “No need for tears yet, Selina” and then staring at the door to the destroyed lab, only for Tybrus to just never show up. “Okay. I suppose tears are called for now.”

So yeah, we have a pretty mixed bag. The story is decent, but it’s a little too out there for Batman the Animated Series. We have some great animation, great music, and great ambient sounds, but then we also have Selina’s design and Tybrus’ voice which I also really don’t like at all. I also want more from Selina’s story. I’m glad that they’re giving her an ark, but I want some really strong Catwoman episodes. Hopefully they are to come.

Char’s grade: A

Next time: Moon of the Wolf Full episode list here!

#dcau #dc animated series #tyger tyger #batman tas #btas #batman the animated series #catwoman #batman

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rosemaidenvixen · 6 years ago

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Day 7 Crystals (Part 2)

@emmy-puff Ao3

The aftermath of battle

Jim ran at the back of the group, keeping an eye out for pursuers and making sure that no one ahead of him fell behind.

After what seemed like an eternity of running, evading, and constantly checking their backs; the group reached the entrance to Trollmarket.

Someone at the front, Darci probably, opened the gate with a Horngazel and started leading everyone inside.

Jim stayed where he was, Daylight held at the ready, while the rag-tag group of trolls and Akiridions rushed into the safety of Trollmarket.

He tensed upon hearing the sound of engines and sirens.

The goons from the base were closing in.

Jim slowly edged toward the entrance as the last few trolls went in, keeping his back to the wall and Daylight pointed in front of him.

Finally, finally, the last one made it inside.

Jim hopped through the entrance without turning his back, and pulled out his own Horngazel.

He had just enough time to see the thunderous look of outrage on Colonel Kubritz’s face as she pulled up on her jeep, right before he sealed the gate shut in it, leaving only a stone wall where the entrance once was.

Jim let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. The amulet popped off into his hand as his armor deactivated.

Everyone around him cheered.

They had done it.

The rescue mission was a success.

Jim turned and walked over to join the rest of the group, his heart giving a lurch when he saw a spiky blue figure slumped against the wall with a lithe pink figure standing guard.

According to Nomura, the scientists back at area 49-B had kept him knocked out with some kind of drug. Now that Draal was off of it he should wake up in a few hours.

Jim’s chest tightened.

It couldn’t happen soon enough, there was so much he needed to say.

Pulling his gaze away from Draal, Jim walked over to his friends, all of whom were celebrating their victory.

Claire and Mary were locked in a passionate kiss, meanwhile everyone else was tangled up in a massive group hug.

A hug that Jim was ensnared in as soon has he got within range.

“OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOMYGOSH! JIM WE DID IT!”

Jim let out a hearty laugh “We sure did Tobes,”

He stepped back and smiled at all of his friends, who’d gone to battle with him and come out victorious.

Toby, Claire, Mary, Darci, Steve….

The smile fell off of his face; Aja, Krel, and Eli were missing.

“Guys….where’s everyone else?”

Upon realizing that they were missing a few people, their looks of exhilaration were replaced with confusion.

Except for Steve.

Steve looked grim.

“It….it was right as we were retreating,” he mumbled “One of the lab goons was about to hit us with some kind of ray gun. Aja took him down….but not before he blasted her,”

Steve dropped his gaze to the floor “It was pretty bad, we had to carry her out of there,” his voice lowered to a hoarse whisper “Krel and Eli rushed her to the healer’s dwell as soon as we got down here….”

Jim couldn’t breathe, his blood turned to ice in his veins.

No….not Aja….

Toby put a hand on his shoulder “Go, we’ll handle everything here,”

Jim flashed his friend a grateful look before rushing off in the direction of the healer’s dwell.

He skidded to a stop as he approached the entrance, heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

He prayed to whoever was listening that he didn’t walk in there only to hear that that the girl he loved was….

Swallowing his fears, Jim stepped inside.

Clusters of smaller Hearthstone crystals lined the walls and every room of the dwell, Trolls believed the light from these crystal helped to heal injuries.

Jim ran a hand against one of their smooth facets, he really hoped that extended to Akiridions as well.

Turning a corner, Jim came face to face with the missing members of team Trollhunter.

Aja was laid out on one of the stone slabs. Severe burns lined one side of her face, from what he could see they no doubt ran down further onto her chest and arms.

Krel was standing off to the side, with Eli next to him, a supportive hand on his shoulder. Some large, four eyed Akiridion stood on the opposite side of the slab from him.

His mom was there, hovering over Aja and examining her burns.

Jim tried to figure out how to make his voice work again “Is….is she….”

“I can hear you and I am being perfectly fine!”

Aja’s voice may have been a low croak, but it was music to his ears.

Barbara smiled down at her spitfire patient “You are going to have some pretty severe scars, but other than that, you should make a complete recovery,”

Jim sagged against the crystal wall, knees weak with relief.

She was ok.

Aja was going to be alright.

“....I….I….I’m glad you’re ok,”

Aja flashed him a weak smile “I am better than ok,” she rasped “I have fearsome battle scars now,” she flexed one of her singed arms and winced “And we rescued Varvatos,”

The large Akiridion, Varvatos Vex no doubt, looked down at his feet and picked at a stray electrode on his arm, managing to look bashful even at his size.

Jim blinked. That’s right, Vex, Aja’s trainer, her mentor.

He should leave and let them talk.

“The queen in waiting and the hunter of trolls should….discuss the outcome of their battle,” Vex spoke up, almost as if he could read Jim’s mind.

“Varvatos will….I….will have Deklons the make amends for my actions,”

“You can start right now,” Krel piped up “By meeting with me and the Eli, during our time on earth we have become, how the humans say, boyfriends,”

Vex notably brightened at this “Varvatos would be more than happy to meet with any friend of the king in waiting,”

The three of them walked off, exchanging introductions as they went, while Barbara stood up and embraced Jim.

Never one to turn down a hug, Jim squeezed her back just as hard.

“I’ll be down the hall, shout if you need anything,” she pulled him a little closer “Thanks for coming back safe,”

Their embrace lasted a few more seconds, before they pulled away, Barbara going to see others that needed care and Jim moving to take a seat be Aja’s bedside.

They were alone now.

For the first time since riding beside each other on the way to raid the base.

“How is everyone else?” Aja stiffly sat up on her slab “Were any of our other friends….?”

“Nope, just some bumps and bruises,”

And thank goodness for that, they hadn’t planned and executed a crazy, high risk scheme to rescue all of their friends just so someone else could get captured or worse.

Maybe one day there would be a battle one of them didn’t walk away from.

But not today.

“Good,” Aja reached out and laid her two unburned hands across his forearm “I am glad everyone is well….I am glad that you are well,”

“Thanks,” Jim entwined his fingers with hers “I’m glad you’re ok to. When Steve said that you got hurt, for a second I thought you might be….”

He trailed off, the possibility being too horrible to say out loud.

“I know what you must have thought,” her voice softened “I admit that….I was worried the same might happen to you,”

With a slight grimace, she clasped his hand using all four of hers, burnt and unburnt “But we survived, and everyone else is safe with us, that is what matters,”

Aja's triumphant grin was reflected in the glowing crystals surrounding her.

Jim’s face melted into a tender smile.

There would be more battles and more missions, and maybe one day they would lose someone, but that wasn’t important right now.

They had rescued all of their friends and come out on top.

“You’re right,” he gently squeezed her fingers with his own.

Wherever Jim and Aja’s story took them, for now, they were still together.

“We’re all here, that’s what counts,”

#tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #3below #3 below #jim lake jr #aja tarron #ajim #ajim week #ajimweek2019 #my fic #fanfiction

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thegreenfairy13 · 6 years ago

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Dog Sitter - Part 2: Gimme Back What’s Mine

A Gobblepot fanfic. When Oswald loses his dog, Jim Gordon finds it. He’s pretty good at taking care for the furry Ed. You can also read it on Ao3.

When the Penguin enters the GCPD, all heads turn. Which is to be expected when Gotham’s most feared criminal mastermind, a sadistic assassin, as well as two men who came back from the grave, pay a courtesy visit.

The kingpin puts on a polite yet tight smile. He can’t wait for being finally reunited with his Ed.

For sure, his poor friend is being locked up in Gordon’s tiny, filthy rathole the Captain calls an apartment, all alone the entire day. He can’t even imagine what his furry companion must have endured during their week apart.

Oswald doubts Gordon bothers to feed him anything else than lousy canned food and for sure doesn’t change his water more often than once a day - if he changed Ed’s water at all since finding him that is. The kingpin vows to visit the vet the second Ed is back in his arms where he belongs.

“Where’s Gordon?” the Penguin barks at last when the fine police force of his beloved city continues gaping wordlessly at him.

“Penguin,” Bullock answers from the back of the room, slowly rising from his seat. The man hasn’t changed at all since their first encounter back at Fish Mooney’s club. His clothing is still rumpled and his hair still greasy. On top of all that, he’s got no manners. Oswald can hardly mask his disdain for the cop.

“What’s your beef with him this time?” he asks back, eyes narrowing at the illustrious assembly of gangsters. With a gesture of his hand, he orders the other cops to stay put, probably being painfully aware of the fact that any form of resistance will have terrible consequences.

“Oh, I can assure you, good detective,” Penguin responds innocently, “I have no dispute with our honorable Captain of the GCPD at all. When limping closer, the smile fades from the Penguin’s face, revealing his icy, emotionless eyes in the process. “That is if my property is being returned to me unscathed of course,” he hisses determinedly.

Bullock’s hand drops to his side as he stares at the criminal’s thin form in obvious confusion, mentally for sure going through all recent police investigations.

“And what should that property be?” he asks when returning empty-handed from his musings.

“My Edward of course!” the smaller man bursts out, eyes blazing furiously. “Gordon is keeping him from me despite knowing full well I’ve been looking for him the entire week!”

Oswald doesn’t care he’s shouting in the middle of the GCPD or losing his composure in front of an audience. After all, this is Ed they are talking about and not some mundane business matter. Besides, Jim must have known Oswald had been looking for his dog! For sure he must have checked websites about people looking for their lost pets. After finding out it had been him to lose his Ed, he must have marveled at his misfortune, glee increasing day by day over Oswald’s tremendous pain.

“Nygma?” Bullock retorts incredulously. “We haven’t seen Nygma for months. Neither me nor Jim. He’s still wanted for robbing a couple of banks,” he elaborates. “This time, you came to shout at the wrong dudes, Penguin.”

“I don’t mean that idiotic imbecile of a wannabe bank robber!” Oswald snarls, almost tripping when stomping his foot to underline his words. “I mean my dog - Edward! An English Bulldog. Gordon found it a week ago and refuses to return him to me!”

Harvey’s entire face drops. “Whoa, whoa, whoa - wait a minute.” Holding up his hands placatingly, the detective tries to soothe the fuming kingpin.

“Do you mean Chester?” he inquires in bewilderment. “The dog Jim found a week ago in Gotham Central during his lunch break? Cause he checked “lostpets.com” every day to see if anyone reported a missing bulldog. Nobody seemed to mind until you came storming in here, screaming your lungs out.”

Spinning on his good heel, Oswald faces Gabe. “What is he talking about?!” he roars. “Didn’t you place an ad on that page too?”

In a matter of seconds, Gabe first flushes beet-red before his face turns positively ashen. After opening and closing his mouth wordlessly a couple of times, he whips out his smartphone and checks the page.

“Boss,” he starts tentatively. “I might have forgotten to hit the “send” button,” he admits carefully. If possible, Oswald would explode on the spot but before dying from embarrassment. Yet, a thing Bullock said gives him pause.

“Did you say Gordon named my dog Chester?” he questions imperiously, mouth quirking into a wicked smile.

Before Bullock can answer, Cobblepot hears the sound of Gordon’s well-known voice.

“Come on, Chester,” he coos softly from the door. “Just a few more steps and then we’ll enjoy some nice roast beef. Don’t you like that? Oh yes, I know you do,” he finishes, crouching down beside the dog, totally oblivious to Penguin’s presence.

Oswald observes how he scratches Ed behind the ears before adjusting a bag from a grocery store around his wrists. Then, he bends down. Scooping the dog up in his arms he starts walking towards the stairs leading to his office. “Daddy just knows you don’t like stairs, don’t you?” he asks cheerfully while carrying the dog through the precinct, looking the happiest Oswald has ever seen him.

Gaping at the scene unfolding in front of his eyes, the gangster watches how Gordon starts climbing the stairs, completely engrossed with the pet in his arms.

Harvey snorts beside him. “If that’s your doggo, Cobblepot, you gonna have to pry him from Jim’s cold, dead arms.”

Scowling in annoyance, the Penguin follows the detective.

Jim is still fussing over the pet when Oswald reaches his office. Through the blenders, he observes the Captain of the GCPD preparing a fresh bowl of water and placing roast beef, rice, and cooked chicken on a plate. Ed, on the other hand, is entirely focused on the meal he’s about to receive while he keeps running in circles around the Captain’s legs.

“Always so impatient,” Jim chuckles when finally putting the plate on the ground. He pets the dog before readjusting a doggy basket he placed behind the window overlooking the precinct.

It’s exactly the moment Gordon notes the Penguin’s presence. Or well, the presence of his perfectly polished shoes and cane.

Rising slowly to his feet, Gordon gives the ruler of Gotham’s underworld a long, severe stare before yanking his door open.

“Cobblepot,” he growls menacingly.

“Captain Gordon,” Oswald greets politely back.

At the sound of his voice, Ed’s ears perk up. Forgetting his luxurious meal, the dog starts wiggling his tail-less butt in excitement and storms towards the door.

The heavy, tank-like creature crashes against his good leg, almost sending Oswald flying to the ground in his delight of seeing his rightful owner again. Not that the kingpin would mind.

Opening his arms, Oswald embraces the velvety thing that started making all kinds of ear-piercing, terrible sounds in his endless joy. The barking is only occasionally being interrupted when Ed’s tongue darts out to lick each and every trace of make-up, mascara, and kajal from his owner’s face.

“My Eddie,” Oswald crows victoriously, barely holding back the relieved tears threatening to stream down his smudged face.

When Ed is finally done with making a mess out of his owner, he simply turns around, retreating to his neglected meal and starts munching as if they had never even spent a second apart.

Meanwhile, Gordon takes everything in with his patent stoic expression. When Oswald has straightened out his suit, he retreats behind his desk in an attempt to put some space between him and the gangster. He doesn’t speak, simply watches the gangster wearily.

When Ed is finished, Oswald snaps his finger. “Come on, Ed. We’re leaving,” he commands.

The dog gets up immediately, but before he can reach his owner, Jim speaks too. “Chester, stay down,” he growls harshly and the dog freezes, unable to decide which command to follow.

“Ed,” Oswald repeats, tapping his cane impatiently.

“Chester,” Jim barks and the poor dog looks from one man to another and finally decides to just curl up on the carpet in front of Jim’s desk.

Sucking in an outraged breath, the King of Gotham puffs out his chest and takes a step towards the cop sitting behind his desk like a fat spider.

“Jim,” he starts, flashing his teeth at the man in an imitation of a smile, “I came to retrieve my dog. It seems you cared quite decently for my Ed so I’m happy to compensate you for any…”

“No,” Jim interjects curtly. “Before I return this animal into your care, I need proof that you are the rightful owner. Sorry,” he adds, flashing him a sharkish grin. “Regulations,” he elaborates with an almost apologetic shrug.

“Captain Gordon,” Oswald starts, leaning over the table until he’s almost nose to nose with the cop. “If the dog’s reaction wasn’t proof enough…”

“It wasn’t.”

“In this case,” the Penguin smirks triumphantly, “I have all the paperwork right here.” And with that, he drops a certificate of rightful dog-ownership at the desk. “I take it we are done here?” he finishes, raising his eyebrow curiously at the Captain.

Pressing his lips together in obvious contempt, Gordon picks up the papers as if they had personally insulted him. Perhaps they have. He unfolds them carefully before studying them thoroughly.

Oswald rolls his eyes.

“They seem legit,” comes the verdict at last. “But you will understand, those papers will have to be verified. That might take a while,” he adds sternly.

The kingpin could outright scream. If he were anywhere else but at the GCPD, he would probably stab the man sitting in front of him for daring to keep him away from his property. And if it were anyone else but Jim Gordon, a traitorous little voice in his head appends.

Locking eyes with the other man, Oswald straightens out his immaculate suit and takes a step back before doing something stupid and promptly walks on a dog toy. When the plushie squeaks loudly, Ed lunges at it and starts pulling it out from under his shoe.

Looking around in annoyance, Oswald, at last, notes how many toys are scattered across the room. He can make out various rubber-bones, three more plushies in various colors, another doggy basket beneath Gordon’s desk and four different leashes hanging neatly beside Gordon’s trench-coat as well as a blue dog-jacket.

And suddenly, the puzzle is solved. Oswald keeps staring at the small piece of clothing a moment longer before addressing the Captain again.

“Ed means a lot to me too,” he elaborates gently. “I need him back in my life,” he confesses, pulling out a chair and sitting down. The dog then comes over and gently nudges his foot with his nose. Patting him tenderly, Oswald gives Jim a pleading glance.

Gordon’s hard stare finally softens but it’s too early for breathing a sigh of relief. Oswald knows better than anyone else how lonely Jim must be too. The ridiculous collection of dog toys speaks volumes.

And hasn’t the Captain lost a lot too? Both his fiancees turned into criminals, he lost his unborn child and Sofia Falcone almost succeeded in seducing him and using him to take down their beloved city. And then that nutter Valeska showed up, almost blowing up Jim Gordon and all the bridges connecting the Gotham with the mainland.

Life hasn’t been easy on the good Captain either, the kingpin muses. And according to his information, he hasn’t had a relationship since that short-lived fling with Sofia. He must be in need of something to lay his love on. Something he can cherish before all his compassion goes to waste.

In the meantime, Jim has become unusually quiet. He’s for sure weighing the Penguin’s words, fighting an inner battle, torn between doing what’s right and what’s convenient for him.

“So, you called the dog Chester?” Oswald asks, trying to lighten the mood. “I have to admit, it’s fitting.”

Jim snorts. “Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t name the dog after you.”

“Oh, I would have never assumed,” Oswald winks. “But now that you mention it..”

“I named him after the dog on a nineties sitcom,” Jim elaborates. “Mind, the dog on the show was a Pomeranian. But I always wanted one,” he admits, scratching his neck awkwardly.

“A Pomeranian?” Oswald echoes incredulously, trying to picture the tall, handsome, fit Captain with one of these tiny, fluffy creatures at his side.

“What?” Jim snaps back. “They are cute.”

The kingpin hums in agreement. “I guess they are,” he offers.

“Oswald,” Jim starts tentatively and somehow the way his name is spoken sends all kinds of alarm bells ringing inside the gangster’s head. After all, Jim only calls him Oswald if he wants something from him.

“I can’t return Chester into your care,” he finally confesses. “You do realize, your line of work isn’t really ideal when it comes to caring for a pet,” Jim concludes.

Head snapping up, the Penguin looks Gordon straight in the eye. “Well, that’s rich coming from you of all people. You are honestly trying to tell me you are the perfect dog owner? With your working hours? And all those shootouts at the GCPD? On an almost weekly basis?”

“I would never take Chester with me to a shootout,” Jim huffs while pushing some papers around on his desk.

“Guess what,” Oswald barks back. “Neither do I. But from what I’m experiencing, the shootouts come to you!”

“Not as often as they come to you,” Jim retorts angrily. “After all, you are a criminal,” he spats and Oswald’s patience is spent - entirely.

“Oh, and you are not?” the kingpin drawls. “You are nothing but a dirty cop living in endless denial about that fact, constantly lecturing me from your high moral horse. I’ll tell you what: this is my dog and you keeping him from me does nothing for your precious law.”

For a second, Oswald is certain he has won when Jim’s shoulders slump, guilt written all over his features. The Penguin knows it was a low blow. Despite all his flaws, Gordon truly always gives his best, tries earnestly keeping up some kind of order in this hellhole of a city.

Besides, he would never betray him the way Nygma did and shoot him in the gut. Gordon only ever comes after him with handcuffs and a warrant. And even if tarnished, his moral compass is still intact. Jim Gordon is probably the only cop in Gotham who never accepted a bribe.

“Then it won’t come as a surprise to you: I’m keeping Chester,” Gordon answers, clenching his jaw angrily.

Well, that is a surprise. Taken aback by the determination in Jim’s voice, the Penguin sputters.

“You won’t get away with that” he hisses menacingly. “Edward belongs to me and no one else!”

“No!”

Slamming his fist on the table, sending all kinds of papers flying, Oswald pushes himself into Jim’s personal space again. “You,” he starts, “are the most irresponsible person I know. You can’t maintain a single relationship of yours. You would probably forget Ed entirely when chasing me again for a crime I didn’t commit…”

“It wasn’t me who lost the damn dog!” Jim hollers, rising from his seat.

“Your girlfriend lost your baby because you were too selfish to do the right thing!” Oswald screams back.

The effect is instantaneous. Jim reels back as if the Penguin had really stabbed him. Hands dropping to his sides, he becomes a picture of calmness - and of barely contained rage.

The moment the words have left his mouth, Oswald’s eyes go wide. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he wills them back inside but the damage has already irrevocably been done. No, no, no! He didn’t mean to get carried away that much in his anger. Reaching out, he tries putting a consoling hand on the other man’s arm. Jim yanks it away as if his touch would burn him.

Wordlessly, he starts collecting the dog toys and puts them in the plastic bag he previously used for bringing the food. When he’s done, he adjusts a collar around Ed’s neck and drops the leash as well as the bag into Oswald’s limp hands.

“Get out,” he commands, voice barely above a whisper.

Yet, the Penguin is unable to move. He just sits there, staring apologetically at the cop.

“You got what you wanted,” Jim tries again. “Now get the hell out,” he repeats his request, more urgently this time.

“Jim, I’m…”

“I don’t want to hear it!” His voice feels like a slap to his face and Oswald can’t blame him.

His relationship with Jim Gordon is a long and complicated one. They use and sometimes abuse each other in order to receive their goals. But there are unwritten laws to their endless game of push and pull. One of those rules is not to kill each other. Another would be evading low blows.

So far, Jim has played according to those rules. He never called Oswald out on his physical disability or named him a freak. He also never belittled him for his love for the Riddler. And now Oswald went and used Jim’s greatest loss against him. It for sure was the lowest blow he can think of.

“I’m sorry,” Oswald whispers when leading Ed out of the precinct.

#Gobblepot #fanfiction

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ritacaroline · 6 years ago

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Starshine Ch. 13 Jimmy Page Fan Fiction

Sequel to In The Light

On the next Monday, Linda returned to her new temporary residence (her sister Carla’s place,) after work. It was her new headquarters. She got quite comfy on the couch with a pint of Cherry Garcia and a funny tv show and was feeling way relaxed. The doorbell rang and she opened the door to a florist delivery guy, saying,

“Delivery for Linda Moore.“ She responded, “Yes, that’s me. Thanks.” And carried in the tremendous vase of glorious red roses. Hmmm, red roses indicate love. Okay. As she sat down, astonished by them, she located the card. Opened it up and read, “Linda, I love you. So very much. Please forgive me. I’m more sorry than you can know. I need you back, please be my love again. Sincerely, Robert.”

“Oh, how pathetic !” she laughed. “Isn’t he cute !? He thinks I need him.” With a scoff and an irritated expression, Linda brought the card with her to the flames in the fireplace. She pulled out her pocket lighter and flipped it on. Then, she held the card into the flame, till the blaze was nearly burning her finger where she held it. Then, threw it carefully into the fireplace. She brought a carafe of water into the living room to add to the flower vase. Why waste a perfectly good set of three dozen roses ? Which smelled rather nicely afterall ! A few minutes later, she heard a key in the door lock, to see that it was Carla returning from her own work. Linda stood and went to hug her girl, arriving home. “Hey,” spoke Carla, “Where did the flowers come from ? ”

Lin : “Oh, they’re from Robert. He thinks he’s got a prayer. But he doesn’t.”

Carla said, “Oh wow, Lin, I didn’t realize he’d try so hard to get you back.”

Linda answered, “That was trying hard ?! All he did was make a call and place an order.”

Carla added, “But how did he know where you are ?”

Linda said, “Not sure. Maybe one of my friends let it slip. But that info doesn’t help him, not one micron. I’m not hiding from anyone. He’ s the one who’s done something wrong, not me.”

Over at Jimmy and Jill’s place, Jill and Clare were wading casually in the shallow end of the pool. Jimmy was indoors, working in the home studio. It was a very warm and humid day as the ladies grasped onto kickboards and slowly migrated around the perimeter of the huge pool together. The two girls absolutely loved the freedom of floating about through the water. They both always needed sunblock to protect their gorgeous skin. Clare was telling Jill the issues she was going through during the first trimester of her pregnancy, as they sipped on their iced teas. About being famished for something to eat. Then once she would eat a small meal, only to get painfully sick and toss the entire thing. And a nearly non stop sensation of nausea. Not just morning time, but all day long time. Things smelled odd or off such as perfumes or room fresheners or cleaning products. She had to put many of those items into storage and keep them well out of sight. Just the view of these things would increase the nausea exponentially. Also the scent of various foods she used to love would disgust her and totally reek. Craving crazy things for a snack. Such as Spaghettios and fresh squeezed tangerine juice. Hearing about this, Jill was learning a lot. Clare also shared that John Henry was treating her like a delicate little princess. He was going well out of his way to keep her comfortable and satisfied with any little request she had. Keeping her very well pampered. And he was extremely emotional and caring toward her. It was wonderful. And Clare was really deeply in love with him.

Meanwhile, Robert had stopped over to see Jimmy at home. Mrs. K. let him in and sent him downstairs to the music studio. The red light was off, so Rob knocked on the wall as he entered the room. So as not to startle Jimmy straight through the roof.

Rob : “Hey mate, how’s it going ?”, as he saw Jimmy, eyes down, focusing on the frets and strings.

Jim, ”Oh, great Rob, what brings you here ?”

Rob : “Oh, not much. Just thought we could have a coffee and a chat, that’s all.”

Jim : “ Fine, have a seat. I’ll have Mrs. K. bring down a few coffees for us, ok ?”

Rob : “Great. I’d love that.”

Jimmy intercommed Mrs. K. to request coffee and a snack to be brought down. He began thinking to himself, Rob hasn’t dropped in, unannounced before, in ages. Possibly ever. Therefore, this has to be due to ? Linda, of course. That’s the only thing that’s changed, that could be eating at him. Jimmy said to himself, how is Rob going to start this conversation, without being obvious that it was the sole reason for the visit ? Without appearing needy or pathetic ? There was no way. Rob would have to try, to not reek of those qualities. Rob had always acted like women were something that were easily attained, easily discarded, then there’d be plenty more around for with which to entertain himself. Jim was very thoughtful to his friend, and decided to just directly ask him about it. This way, they could minimize Rob’s struggling and get right to the point.

Jim : “So tell me, what’s happening between you and Linda ? Have you located her yet ?”

Rob : “ Funny you should ask. Yes, one of her friends had mentioned she’d heard Linda was staying with her younger sister. So, I’ve sent her some roses with a note, asking her to come back. But haven’t heard anything from her yet.”

Jim : “So what do you think is on her mind ?”

Rob : “Of course I know she’s furious. When I came by last week, she said let’s stay away from each other, and check back in “a few“ months. To see how we each feel by then. See if either of us, or both of us wants to get back together. And if we both want to, then we will. You know, so we can think it over for awhile. But really, how many months is a few ? How long do I have to wait ?”

Jim : “Well, that sounds like there may be a possibility ! At least she’s not saying that she has no more feelings for you. Or that there’s no chance she’ll ever come back. Basically she said there’s a chance. That means she still cares for you. She’s simply not putting up with you sampling any more skirts, is all. Are you capable of doing that for her ? And, are we to say that you’re really hoping to have her come back, then ?”

Rob, “Well, yes ! Obviously. Nothing’s going right without her. The house feels completely empty. Lonely. Depressing. Dead. I really fucked things up. Can’t believe that one little afternoon of getting a little could do so much damage. Truthfully, I don’t think I knew what I had, when Linda was my girl. I didn’t appreciate her as she deserved. She’s a fantastic girl. But I see what I had now. How would I find another girl like Linda, now. Yeah, I know there’re thousands of available women around. But none of them are Linda. By the way, Page,…keep this incident in mind, in case your mind starts wandering or leading you astray, when you see a delicious dish. Because, look where it got me. Five minutes of kissing and groping sure wasn’t worth what I’m going through now.”

Jim : “Thanks Rob. Great advise. I don’t really need it though. I know it wouldn’t be a possibility, to find another woman like Jill. I knew I fell into luck, when I found her. What do you think you’ll do then ? When attempting to get Linda back ?”

Rob : “ Well all I’ve got so far, is that we can build a time machine, ya know, HG Wells style. Set the dial to last Wednesday, 11:30 am. When Vanessa and company step in, I could say, “Ladies, thanks for the visit, but we’re way too busy for guests now. Sorry, but you’ll need to leave. Important Led Zeppelin business is happening at the moment.” Ha ha. If that were to happen, then I’d still be surrounded with the love and warmth of my girl, enjoying her beautiful spirit and gorgeous face and body and her sweetness. Instead of aching for her. Every bit of me is aching for her, I’m miserable. And there’s fucking no relief in sight.”

Next Ch. (14) ”https://ritacaroline.tumblr.com/post/185345888071/starshine-ch14

Chapter Index for “Starshine” is located at bottom section of Ch.1 , click here : https://ritacaroline.tumblr.com/post/184383708541/starshine-ch-1-jimmy-page-fan

Link to “In The Light” - original fan fic - https://ritacaroline.tumblr.com/Fan%20Fiction

JimJam Mistresses @tremble-and-shake @ledoftherings @gimmeeshelter @adonna1964 @justanotherzosofangirl @starchild0985 @girlofthemoon75 @bonscottintheimpala @12909168 @jullz @cherryfloyd @tenementcrazylittlefruitcake @save-me-from-the-gallows-pole @soy-laprincessa @marauderofworlds @ultrabitchystudentperfectionus @satanspizzadeliveryguy @misspenylane @zi-zidane @catherine0627 @pagingpage-the-original @amythesticon @strangerspassinginthestreet @ thezeppelinbeatles @pour-some-sugar-on-mee @carryfire18 @j-james-thlk @70shoney @strange-broo @page-daddy @nadianad1337 @yerawizardjimmeh @jimmyypagey @magnetacuddles84 @rock6880 @ledxzeppelin @kinkyspice @thelandofnevermore @my-golden-lion @itsblackbetty @magnetacuddles84 @luvejimmy @palenickelsaladparty @jennmarieetn @honeydewgroupie @how-many-more-times-blog @loveinher-eyess @rocknrollababes-blog @princesssofpeace @frauweide @dontyouhearmecallingyou @zozjaa @miniaturewinnerwonderland

*Please advice if you would like to be tagged or untagged.

#Fan Fiction #submission #jimmy page fanfiction jimmy page fan fic jimmy page fan fiction led zeppelin submission

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apocalypticwafflekitten · 6 years ago

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I’m Coming Back For You - Pt. 1

Jerome Valeska x Winged!Reader

A/N: Hello y’all! I’m back with another story! This time it’s a story set in the Gotham universe since I’ve been binging the show recently, and I’ve absolutely fallen in love with it! This is a story that I thought up, and I may turn it into multiple parts if it gets to be too long.

Summary Kinda Thing/Original Imagine: This is basically the story of your relationship with everyone’s favorite murder carrot.

Warnings: This may be kinda long, and throughout the entire story there will probably be a few time skips. I don’t know if that’s cause for warning, but there you go! I’m also going to change some things in the plot, most should be minor, but there might me something major since I haven’t seen season four yet. There’s minor spoilers, but nothing ground-breaking. This story starts before Jerome is put in Arkham for killing his mom. (Sorry. Minor spoiler there.) Also, in the beginning it’s set around Christmas time, and the reader might do some Christmas-y things, but I mean no offense, or non-inclusion to anyone who doesn’t celebrate Christmas. Finally, minor swearing. Maybe.

Winter in Gotham was always brutal. Much like the town itself. However, you didn’t mind because that meant that you could roast marshmallows over the fire in your fireplace, and wear big sweaters while watching classic Christmas movies.

Right now, you were sitting in your favorite armchair, sipping on a cup of hot cocoa, reading your favorite book. Nuzzling your face a little further into the over-sized turtleneck of your burgundy sweater, and draping one of your crimson wings over your lap, you tuned into the back ground, listening to “It’s A Wonderful Life” which happened to be playing on TV.

Your reading was interrupted only when you heard the distinct double-knock which announced the arrival of someone at your door. You stood and marked the spot in your book, then quickly made your way to the front door to greet the person waiting there. A little part of you hoped it was carolers, but given that it was the evening in Gotham, you thought that that was highly unlikely.

When you reached the oak door that was stained to look a deep cherry red, you turned the brass doorknob and opened the door to the shivering guests outside. The cool winter breeze smacked you in the face as the door swung open, and your four wings perked up happily to see Jim Gordon, and a ginger boy you didn’t recognize who looked to be about your age. He looked at you quizzically, curiously. It was more than likely towards the four giant wings on your back, but who knows. Your hair had been acting pretty weird lately.

“Hiya Jim! What brings you all the way over here this late on a cold Winter’s Night?” You ask the detective dramatically, motioning to him and the stranger that they were welcome to come in.

“Hey (Y/N). I’m here for a case…sort of. This is Jerome Valeksa.” Jim explained, turning to look at the ginger. “His mother was murdered this afternoon and he needs a place to stay. I know this is short notice, but do you think he could stay here for a while? At least until we can find his mother’s killer?”

Your wings dropped in sudden sadness for the boy. “Yes! That would be perfectly fine!” You quickly answer, losing any and all joking tones you had had earlier. Then you turned to Jerome. “”I’m so sorry hun! I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through! You can make yourself at home and I’ll go set up the guest room.”

“Thank you.” Jerome answered, sniffling a little bit at the end of his sentence. His face was still blotchy and a little red from either the cold, or crying. Probably both.

“I’m (Y/N) by the way. Ill have your room ready in a few minutes. If you’d like there’s some Taco Soup on the stove. Bowls are going to be in the cupboard above the stove to the right.” You explained, then turned to go down the hallway to your guest room.

Once you were in the room, putting the sheets on the full-sized bed, Jim came in and helped you with the dreaded fitted sheet.

“Thank you for letting Jerome stay here. Especially on such short notice. Poor kid’s been through hell.”

“I don’t mind at all. If something like that were to happen to me, I’d be completely distraught. I know I would want to stay somewhere other than home. Too many memories.” You replied somberly, beginning to work on the sheets, tucking your wings tightly to your back so they didn’t get in the way.

“I’m sure he’s grateful.” Jim paused for a moment, fighting with a pillowcase. “Ill come back when I’ve got more information, or the name of the murderer.”

“Alrighty. I wish you luck with the case.”

“Thank you.” Jim paused for a moment, worry glinting in his eyes. “I hope we can find the killer.”

“You will Jim. I have no doubt.” You say, trying to offer some comfort.

With that, Jim smiled, and left you to finish off the comforter and the last pillowcase.

Once you were done setting up the room, you headed back to the kitchen where you found Jerome sitting over an empty bowl of soup, looking into it as if it held the secrets to the universe and life itself.

“Did you like it?” You asked as you made a b-line for the stove where the warm soup lay waiting for you.

Jerome jumped as if he hadn’t heard you coming. He swung his head to look at you with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m a quiet walker. How was the soup?” You asked once more, grabbing a bowl and filling it for yourself.

“It was really good.” He replied. His voice seemed a little more confident than before, and that made you happy on the inside. You hoped that that meant that he felt at least a little more comfortable here.

“Thank you. It’s my special recipe.” You say as you take a seat at the end of the table next to him.

“You’re a very good cook then.” Jerome complimented.

“Why, thank you.” You beamed inside and out, wings lifting a little in happiness. You liked it when someone complimented you or your cooking.

You took the next few minutes to explain where his room was and the bathroom and everything he needed to know.

“…And most importantly…… this is where I keep the hot cocoa.” You revealed the lower cabinet’s stash of hot chocolate dramatically, gaining a laugh out of Jerome as you giggled yourself.

Once you calmed down a bit, you sat on the floor, letting your wings fall beside you, and Jerome sat next to you, careful not to step on, or sit on your wings. The two of you sat in silence for a few seconds just smiling and chuckling to yourselves. After a bit, you broke the silence.

“Can I say something? Something that might be very offensive?” You ask hesitantly, worried about what you wanted to say.

“Sure. As Long as I get to ask you a question in response.” He smirked a little before turning to look at you expectantly.

“Alright. Ill give you that.” You smiled at him before continuing on. “Here we go… For someone who’s mother was murdered a few hours ago, you don’t seem very distraught.” You took a second to realize just how terrible that sounded out loud, and rushed to fix your mistake. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be that rude! I’m so stupid! Everyone has their own ways of coping with loss. How could I possibly be so-”

“Don’t worry.” Jerome’s short sentence cut off your rambling, which took you by surprise. That and you were honestly confused by his answer. “I don’t mind. Don’t tell anyone else, but I’m almost glad she’s gone.”

You were surprised to say the least, but then again, you knew that not everyone has a happy family.

“Do you mind me asking why?” You were almost scared for his response. Suddenly, Jerome’s face grew dark, and it was like you were looking st a completely different person.

“Oh, she just nagged, and fucked around, and nagged some more, and then beat me within an inch of my life. With her ‘partners’. Multiple. Times.” By the end of his explanation each word was its own sentence. He was fuming. Meanwhile, your heart broke for him. Subconsciously, you laid a wing on his lap in some attempt of comfort.

“I’m so sorry.” You barely whispered, staring at nothing in particular as you began to lose yourself in thought.

You didn’t notice it, but Jerome looked at you. He couldn’t put an emotion to how he looked at you, but he just watched as you laid one of your beautiful wings on his lap. Strangely enough, it actually made him feel better, which was something completely unexpected.

After a few moment’s silence you looked to Jerome who was staring at your wing, but you felt like he was lost in his thoughts as well. Deciding to break the silence, you spoke up with a quiet, almost comforting voice.

“What was it that you wanted to ask me?”

It was as if you had pulled him from his thoughts. He blinked a few times before asking you what you had said.

“I’m curious about what it was that you wanted to ask me.” You repeated softly. “Oh. I was just wondering about your wings.” He asked like he had just remembered something that was on the tip of his tongue. The darkness had left his face and he looked like the same ginger he was when you met him.

You huffed a bit of a laugh.

“Well, what about them?” You questioned.

“Everything I guess. How you got ‘em. Why they’re red. Why there are four of them.” He started to ramble off.

“Well, as far as I know, I was born with them.” You began, looking down to the wing that was still on Jerome’s lap. “I’ve had them for as long as I can remember, and they’ve always been this color. Except dad always said that they were pink for the first few months of my life. I’ve always had the four, and they’ve never let me down.” You explain with a sense of pride. You liked it when someone took an interest in your wings.

“They’re fascinating.” Jerome stated, gingerly reaching a hand out to touch your wing.

When you saw what he was doing, you quickly pulled your wing back, and he looked at you with confusion in his eyes and furrowed brow.

“Sorry. I’m….hesitant when it comes to letting people touch my wings.

“Do you mind me asking why?” He was curious.

“It’s a long story… well, not long. Just…painful.” You respond, looking down at your wings and pulling them closer to you.

“Alright then. I won’t push you.”

After a minute or two of silence, just stewing in your thoughts, you announced that you were going to head to bed, and Jerome followed suit.

#jerome valeska fluff #jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska imagine #what am i?#Im jerome valeska trash #jerome valeska #soft jerome #kinda #jerome before arkham #what am i doing with my life #why must i do this to myself

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