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wicked-mind · 4 years ago

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Betrayed: Chapter Four

Summary: Everybody thought Steve’s sister had passed away decades ago. But when you show up at the facility and try to attack Bucky, there are questions to be answered.

Word count: 5.5k

Warning: A bit of violence, talk of kidnapping and torture, talk of surgery, a hint of PTSD

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NOTE: I would like to thank everybody for your support. As I previously said, this is the first time posting creative writing on any platform. As a thank you, I’ll be releasing two chapters today (3/19/21). Again, any feedback is appreciated. Enjoy (:

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Chapter Four- I Guess We Can Be Friends

The rest of the team returned finally. A smile returned to Y/N’s face after seeing her brother and Wanda after the week. Steve made sure to get a run down of everything that happened in his absence from Clint and Bucky. Hearing of her nightmares, the voice she heard, and the progress her and Bucky had made. Steve and Bucky both exchanged the word ‘progress’ again with a smile. The chip they had recovered was protected, they couldn’t access the information on it right away, having to do some deep digging.

Steve found his sister chatting with Wanda, filling her in on everything that had happened. Y/N talked to Wanda about her nightmares and how Bucky was the one who woke her from them. She told her friend about how she heard the voice in her head, to which Wanda looked concerned. With Y/N’s permission, she could look to see if there was something else in her head, but she would wait for that until Y/N was ready for that. Steve entered the room with a light knock, smiling at Y/N.

“I’m all caught up on things that happened while we were away.” Steve told his sister, with a small comforting smile, “We recovered your chip still in tact. We are trying to get into it the information on it.”

Y/N nods, then looks at Wanda, “I need you to do it. Look in my mind and see if there is someone else.” She said, to which Steve and Wanda both looked shocked, “Please Wanda, I can’t sit here and wait to see if he starts whispering again. I have to know if it is real or if it’s me slowly going insane.” She whispered the last part.

“Don’t you think we should wait for a little bit? At least until we see the information on the chip?” Steve asked, concern in his voice. He didn’t want to push his sister into anything that could more damage her fragile state.

Y/N looked from her brother to Wanda, nodding, “Do it.” She demanded.

They gathered in the medical bay, allowing Y/N to lay on one of the beds. Wanda positioned herself behind her friend’s head, looking to her for permission. Y/N nodded and closed her eyes. The whole team watched closely, besides Natasha who had already left to go to the prison. Bucky and Steve had concerned looks on their face about this. Wanda positioned her hands on either side of Y/N’s head, red glowing from her fingers. For a moment, it was silent as Wanda searched, before she drops her hand, looking up to Steve with wide eyes, “There’s someone in there.. I can’t tell who but he is definitely the cause of the whispers. It’s has the same energy as Y/N, but it’s darker, stronger.” Wanda said gently, then looking at Y/N’s face. For a moment, Y/N looked relieved that she wasn’t going insane or being haunted by ghosts. But then worry came across her face as she realized something else was pulling strings in her head.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably on his feet, feeling useless. He couldn’t protect Y/N from the voice in her mind. He had the instincts to protect Y/N from anything and everything. He was determined to find this owner of this voice in her head, make it stop.

“We will wait to see what Natasha figures out.” Steve broke the silence, walking over and helping his sister up from the table. He looked down at her and offered a smile, to which one was returned up to him.

When Natasha was able to get into the information on the chip, she gathered the team to share her findings. She waited for them all to be seated around the circular table before beginning, “The chip showed what Y/N told us. It was used to send direct orders to her no matter where she was in the world. We are still working on downloading the information of where she went and what she did.” Natasha paused, “It also had a second function. It was blocking out some other transmission to her brain. I would guess it was keeping away the whispers that Y/N is now hearing. We aren’t sure what is causing the whispers or why it was important for Hydra to keep them out.” She paused, before looking at the rest of the team, “We don’t know how dangerous these whispers are. There was a reason Hydra wanted them blocked out. They could pose an immediate threat. The safest option would be to keep Y/N in the detention center until we know more.”

Y/N had snuck to listen outside the room. She was very quiet, and could get away very quickly if necessary. She, after all, was trained for things like sneaking around and gathering information without being seen, among other things.

The room fell silent as the team processed what Natasha was proposing to them, “We can’t do that to her.” Steve told the team, “She hasn’t been a threat to any of us since the first night. If we put her in one of the detention cells, it’ll show we don’t trust her and think she’s dangerous. Y/N is just trying to get back on her feet. She doesn’t want to hurt any of us.”

“I don’t trust her. That’s the issue.” Natasha countered, “If those whispers are dangerous, she can snap at anytime and turn on any of us. If she bites one of us and flees, that’s the end of it. Someone will die. We have to take necessary precautions.”

Bucky glared at Natasha for this idea, his jaw clenched, “You can’t do that to Y/N.” He repeated Steve’s words, “She dug herself out of a grave she was meant to stay in, took the chip out, and found us for help. She just wanted to see her brother again.” He said, “She attacked me for a reason. I have forgiven her. She’s not a threat unless we treat her like one or give her a reason to feel threatened.” He paused, taking in a deep breath, eyeing everybody else in the meeting, “If we force her into a cell, we are no better than how Hydra forced her into that coffin. She will break down as it reminds her of the things she went through. You break that trust, we won’t get it back. Any of us.” He said, looking to Steve, then Clint, and to Wanda who was nodding her head in agreement.

Wanda cleared her throat before speaking, drawing the attention to herself, “Y/N is not a current threat to anybody. I’ve seen in her mind, but more importantly I’ve spent almost every day with her. She just wants to live and be happy. Her mind is full of good. She’s a good person of which horrific things have happened to. Y/N doesn’t deserve to be punished for something she hasn’t done yet. I can keep an eye on her mental state, let us have an early warning if the whispers come back stronger.” Wanda watched the others as they slowly nodded in agreement to what she was saying.

“I have part of a solution.” Clint finally spoke, his arms crossed as he sat in his chair leaning back, “She doesn’t pose a threat now. I’ve trained with her more than anybody, she knows how to hold back. She has self control. But, just in case, why don’t we keep some of her blood in stock in case she does snap and bites one of us?”

Steve nodded, “I think that’s the best idea. We will get her to donate some blood to us for emergencies. She will understand and want to help. She doesn’t want to hurt any of us, she will want us to have the cure.” He looked at Bucky for a moment, before looking to Natasha who shook her head, knowing she was out numbered, “For now, we keep an eye on her. Help her. If something happens, we will discuss it.” He said in a tone that everybody knew meant the conversation about locking Y/N away was over. He sighs, slowly standing, “On another note, the annual fundraising gala is tomorrow. Everybody pick a charity of your choice before the party.” Natasha folded her arms, looking at Steve, “You really think the gala is the best idea right now?”

“Of course. We have been walking on eggshells for six months, putting all our focus on unraveling this mystery. We need a break. Thor is already coming in, and the guests have already sent in their RSVP. They’re expecting it. ” He said, knowing he was just irritating and pushing the limits with Nat, who had now exited the room in a hurry, “I guess that concludes our meeting.”

Y/N listened, she took a deep breath, then started chewing on her bottom lip. When they started speaking of the gala, she left. She knew when her brother used that tone it was end of discussion with her situation. She swiftly made it back to her room, sitting on her bed, pulling a magazine onto her lap. She just flicked the pages, not reading it at all. She was thinking about what was said in the team’s discussion. What Natasha said, about locking her away. Maybe that was for the best, she didn’t want to be a threat. She didn’t want to hurt anyone else. But listening to what Steve and Bucky said, they were right. The way Bucky talked about how she would break, he was right. She couldn’t keep herself under control if she was locked away, isolated. It would just be more proof that she was who she thought she was, a hopeless killer.

Y/N heard Wanda approaching and focused back on reading the magazine. Wanda came in beaming with a smile, “Up, up, up, get up!” She said, pulling Y/N by her hands to her feet.

Y/N smiled and laughed, letting her pull her to her feet, “What are we doing now?” She asked, happy to have a best friend like Wanda. She brought joy into Y/N’s life, someone she can be herself around.

“We are going shopping, where’s your shoes?” Wanda said as she searched around the room before throwing the black combat boots at Y/N, how caught them with ease, “The gala is tomorrow and we need to find some dresses.”

Y/N put her shoes on quickly, excited to go out and spend the day with Wanda shopping. She hadn’t got to leave the facility that much, she was excited to see what the world offered her today. Plus it would be nice to get her mind off of what she learned listening to the meeting.The two walked out the front of the facility, Wanda spinning the car keys in her hand. Y/N looked back at the facility, seeing Natasha watching her through the window, before getting in the black BMW with Wanda, “What’s Nat’s issue today?” She asked, curious of what the reply would be.

Wanda waved her hand as if to say forget about it, “Oh don’t worry, that’s just her face. She has RBF. Some days it flares up more than others.” She joked, putting the key in the ignition and speeding down the driveway towards town. On their dress mission, they talked about things. Wanda asked Y/N to tell her if she started hearing whispers again, that it was very important to let her know to which Y/N nodded, promising her best friend. Then they talked about something Wanda always wanted to talk about. Bucky. Wanda knew Y/N’s feelings about him, the good and the bad ones. Lately the better ones have been taking over and replacing those bad memories. Wanda was determined to help replace those memories, for Y/N’s sake and Bucky’s. She knew Bucky still had strong feelings for Y/N, it was hard not to keep out his thoughts when they screamed so loudly for Y/N. And she also knew that Y/N still had those lovey-dovey feelings for Bucky, just maybe a litter deeper down.

THE NEXT NIGHT

Wanda was helping Y/N get ready for the gala, already done getting herself ready. This was Wanda’s favorite event the team held. They got to dress up all fancy and let loose in their own home. There was no shop talk, just fun. Wanda slowly ran the curling iron through Y/N’s blonde hair, curling the ends perfectly so they would bounce as she walked. Wanda was already dressed and ready. As she finished up Y/N’s hair, she smiled, placing the curling iron down, “Don’t touch that.” She warns, not wanting her friend to get burned. Y/N nodded, looking at herself in the mirror. She was all dolled up for this event.

Wanda smiled, putting on her heels, “I’ll meet you out there.” She said, heading for the door, before looking back at Y/N who was still looking at herself in the mirror, “C’mon Y/N, get dressed. Chop chop!” She said and then disappeared out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Y/N tore her eyes away from herself. Her eyelashes were darkened with mascara and her lips were red from a lipstick she borrowed from Wanda. She looked very similar to how she did when she was taken by Bucky. She had curled her hair, put on red lipstick, excited to meet him for their date that never happened. The memory was painful, but she thought about the things Bucky had done for her. He was patient, kind. He helped her through break-downs. He said all the right things. He was being the Bucky she remembered and wanted. She decided she would be open to giving him another chance, being more accepting of him. The only way she would know for sure is if she let him in a little bit. She slowly stood, walking over to the closet and pulling her dress out. Wanda had helped pick it out. Y/N was a little reluctant, the style of dresses had changed since the last time she had worn one. When did they become so revealing? Y/N slipped off the robe she was wearing to get ready, placing it on her bed. She slipped the black dress on. It fit her curves perfectly, although maybe a little tight, “God how do people breathe in these.” She said, flattening out the scrunched lines as she walked in front of the mirror. The dress was jet black, flowing to the floor. There was a slit up the side to show off her pale leg, a little too high if you asked Y/N but Wanda assured her it was the style. It had sleeves that draped over her arms, a small dip in the front but not too revealing. She lifted her hand to her shoulders, her fingers brushing against the silver scars from a past life. She didn’t remember how she got the ones that looked like bites, but there were many of them that were hidden by the view of this dress. She slipped on her black heels, wishing she could just wear her boots. But Y/N knew Wanda would just drag her back to the room to put the shoes on. Y/N gave herself one final glance in the mirror. The dress was beautiful, she was beautiful. Even with the red eyes that seemed to glow. She turned and made her way out of her room and to where the party was being held.

As she entered, Wanda immediately was at her side, handing her a glass of dark wine which Y/N accepted immediately, taking a small sip. The lounge was decorated beautifully and filled with people who were all dressed up also. Steve was sitting at the bar with Bucky and Sam, laughing. He noticed his sister’s arrival and quickly walked over to greet her.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Steve said, giving her a quick hug, “I’m glad you decided to come. It’ll be fun.” He promised.

“Yeah I didn’t get to really decide.” Y/N laughed, looking at Wanda, “I’m pretty sure she would’ve dragged me down here, I figured it was easier to come willingly.”

Steve chuckled, giving Wanda a thankful smile, “It’ll be great, don’t worry about anything. Tonight is all about fun.” He said, placing an encouraging hand on his sister’s shoulder, before getting pulled away by some men who seemed excited to have a conversation with the Captain America. Steve figured a Y/N needed some fun. It had been all serious since she came back that she hasn’t really gotten to live.

Y/N and Wanda walked around, introducing themselves to guests and sharing stories. Well, Wanda was doing the sharing. Y/N didn’t have any stories to share, just listened and laughed as she met all the new people. All of them were very nice, and not too intrusive.

Bucky had noticed Y/N as soon as she walked in. He about spit up his drink by how beautiful she looked. He wondered if this is what she would’ve looked like for their date that never happened. It made his heart jump thinking about it. He watched Steve go up to her, a little jealous that he was just able to approach her so easily. He watched her throughout the night, staying at the bar. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Y/N was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He watched her laugh, envying the wine glass she kept bringing to her lips. It reminded him of the one kiss they shared. He cherished that memory of them. Her lips were so soft against his. He wanted that feeling again but knew it was out of his grasp.

At some point, Bucky lost track of Y/N in the crowd. His eyes scanned all the faces in the room, looking for her. He stood up when he saw she wasn’t with Wanda. They had been together the whole night, but now they weren’t. He pushed through people, apologizing and saying excuse me as he searched for Y/N, before turning to look out a window. She was standing out on the lawn alone, her head tilted up to the sky. He immediately made his way out there, wanting to make sure she was alright. He shut the door quietly and approached Y/N, smiling.

“Y/N?” He said, wanting to give her a heads up he was approaching, “Everything alright?” He asked as he stood beside her.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” She said, looking over to him with her red eyes. She noted how handsome he looked. He was wearing an all black suit, his hands in his pockets. She returned her gaze up to the stars, a soft smile on her red lips, “Just needed some air. I got distracted by the stars. They’re beautiful.”

Bucky kept his eyes on her face, “Yeah.. Beautiful.” He said, not talking about the stars. He examined her face. She was smiling, and her expression was nothing but happiness. He loved seeing her like this- happy. It’s what she deserved.

Y/N looked back to Bucky, noticing he was still staring at her, knowing he wasn’t calling the stars beautiful. She turned towards him, her red eyes meeting his crystal blue ones. She smiled softly, her red lips curving, before she looked down at her almost empty glass of wine, “Buck…” She said softly, as if ashamed, “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. And… you know.. biting you,” She gestured towards the scar on his neck, biting her lip before continuing, “I know that wasn’t you. They were in your head like they were in mine.” She was just now realizing it had been god knows how long since she drank and she may be a little tipsy.

Bucky shook his head at her apology, his hand leaving his pocket as he touched her arm, “Hey, don’t. It’s fine. Your last memory of me was taking you to them. I understand. I probably would’ve had the same reaction. It hasn’t changed the way I see or feel about you, darling. I know who you are. You don’t have to apologize for your trauma.” He said softly, smiling at her.

Y/N lifted her head again to meet his gaze. His skin on hers felt almost electric. It made her skin crawl, her hairs standing up. She nodded, her eyes looking around Bucky, anywhere but his face. Hearing him call her ‘darling’ made her body feel warm. She felt like her heart was racing. She finally looked at his face. She could tell he had just cut his hair recently, probably to look nice for the gala. He looked just like the Bucky she knew. When she arrived his hair was longer, but now his hair was shorter, those blue eyes watching her, a small grin on his face. She took a small step towards him, “Since all is forgiven…” Y/N said, her eyes keeping contact with his, “I suppose that means we can be friends.”

Bucky’s grin only widened as she took a step towards him, his eyes never leaving her face. He was observing every move she made. Everything about her was extraordinary. As she spoke the words he had long waited for her to say, he felt as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders, “I would love that.” He replied, “That means we can do friend stuff, right?” He said, talking a small step closer to her, his hand still on her arm, “Like go for coffee, watch movies, have dinner sometime?” He said softly, hoping he wasn’t overstepping with her.

“Hot chocolate,” She corrected, “Not coffee.” She smiles, her eyes watching his as he stepped closer, she bit her lip slightly, her focus moving from his eyes to his lips.

Bucky chuckled at her response, “Hot chocolate with caramel.” He responded, remembering it was her favorite. He knew she didn’t like coffee, but she loved hot chocolate. He was locked onto her eyes that looked at him from underneath her long, dark lashes. He looked at her lips for a moment, wondering if he should move in closer. He felt as if she was giving him all the signals, even flirting back with him. She hadn’t denied him. He leans his face in closer to hers slowly, watching for any reaction, which to his surprise didn’t come.

Instead, a different surprise happened. A flash of light separated the two quickly. When the light faded, Y/N noticed a circle emblem on the ground, but then noticed the man standing in the middle of it. He had short blonde hair, was tall and muscular. He held a large axe in his hand.

“Great timing, Thor. Good to see ya. You’re late.” Bucky said, obviously a little annoyed that the moment between Y/N and himself was ruined.

“Barnes! Good to see you.” Thor replied, placing a pat on Bucky’s back. He was smiling ear to ear, obviously excited about the event, “Who’s your friend?” He said turning to Y/N.

Y/N smiled, “Y/N Rogers.” She said, her red eyes studying him. She had read about him and heard all the stories.

Thor looked at Y/N confused for a moment, “Steve got married? I wasn’t invited?” He said, almost hurt looking.

“No..” Both Y/N and Bucky said at the same time, both laughing a little bit, “I’m his sister.”

Thor looked relieved, before smiling, “Oh yeah, I see the resemblance now. Besides the red eyes, that’s extremely interesting.” He said, point at his own eyes as he talked about hers. Noticing he made her slightly uncomfortable with the comment, he continued, “Well, I better go in and say hello.” He said, walking passed the two and into the party.

Y/N looked back at Bucky, laughing a little at what just happened. It was a little awkward and embarrassing, but the timing was funny to her.

Bucky smiled as she laughed, “So uhm…” He chuckled out, watching her closely, “More wine?” He said, motioning towards the almost empty wine glass still in her hands.

Y/N shook her head, smiling, “Oh no, I’m good. It’s been forever since I’ve had a drink. Tonight I’m a one and done type of girl.” She said, nodding as she told herself this. She was already a little tipsy, she didn’t want to press her luck, “We should head back in though. My feet hurt and there’s some left over pasta in the fridge that’s calling my name.” She said, turning and starting to head back inside. Bucky followed her close behind, smiling to himself. She was treating him like a friend, maybe even more than a friend. She was talking to him like she had growing up. It was exciting to him. It reminded him of a simpler time. He followed her up the stairs to the kitchen in the living quarters, watching as she heated up her food in the microwave. Y/N grabbed a fork, turning to see him still there, “I’m gonna eat this in my room then go to bed.” She said, smiling a little.

Bucky nodded, “I’ll walk you.” He said, even though it was right down the hallway. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with her, just in case this was a dream he was going to wake up from soon. He joined her as they walked down the hall, stopping at her door and opening it for her.

Y/N slipped into the room and placed her food on the desk before turning back to Bucky who was still standing there like a dream, waiting for her. She approached him, smiling, “Thank you.” She said softly, She reached her hand out and touched his arm, still smiling up into his eyes, “Good night, Bucky.”

Bucky grinned at her touch, “Anytime, doll. Good night.” He said happily, accepting the fact this would be the end of their night together, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Tonight was perfect to him. He turned to return back to the party down the stairs. Nothing could bring him down tonight.

Y/N smiled at the pet name, giving his face once last glance, before shutting the door. She smiled to herself. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time. She felt undeniably happy. There was no negativity creeping in at all. She quickly kicked off the heels and changed out of her dress into some sweats and a tank top, hanging the dress back up in her closet. She grabbed her pasta and sat on her bed, turning on the tv. It didn’t take long for her to finish her food, placing the now empty food box in the trash before curling up in bed, falling asleep.

Thor had made his way around saying hello to everybody, before returning back to Steve who was now with Bucky at the bar, “You didn’t tell me you have a sister,” He said to Steve, holding a mug of beer in his hand.

“It never came up.” Steve said, smiling at his friend.

Thor shrugged, “Would’ve been nice to know. The red eyes are very interesting.” He mentioned, taking a large drink of her beer, “Is she otherworldly?”

Steve shook his head, “No, she was a Hydra experiment.” He informed, looking uncomfortable by this conversation.

Thor nodded, taking note of the buttons he seemed to be poking on Steve, “That’s unfortunate, I’m sorry.” He said, placing a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder, “Oh, and sorry for ruining your moment.” He said to Bucky.

“Moment?” Steve asked, looking from Thor to Bucky, “There was a moment?”

Bucky said silent for a moment, before speaking, “It’s alright, Thor. Y/N and I were just talking.” He said.

Thor looked from Bucky to Steve, “Right… Talking. That’s definitely what I saw.” He said with a smile, “I think I need another.” He said as he looked at his now empty mug, before walking away.

Steve watched Thor leave, before looking around the gala, “Where is Y/N?” he said, realizing he hadn’t seen his sister in a while, and after hearing about the potential ‘moment’ he wanted to make sure she was alright.

“She went to bed, I walked her up.” Bucky said, to which Steve looked at him, eyebrows raised, “She said we could be friends again.” He informed, smiling slightly, though he didn’t get the reaction he was hoping for from his friend.

Steve nodded slightly, “Just friends.” He said. He was never thrilled about the idea of his best friend and sister growing closer. He was Y/N’s brother after all. He knew Bucky was a good man, but he still couldn’t think of them being anything more than friends, “I’ll head up there, be close just in case anything happens.”

“No, I’ll go. Don’t worry, I won’t disturb her.” Bucky said, standing from his seat at the bar, “Besides, you’re in charge of this party. Can’t be leaving. I’ll just sit down the hall until Wanda comes up.” He promised, to which Steve nodded almost reluctantly, still wondering what moment Thor had intruded on. Bucky turned and made his way back up the stairs. Keeping his promise to Steve, he sat outside Y/N’s door in the hallway. He could hear the tv on inside the room, listening as he tried to determine what she had been watching before she fell asleep. He concluded it must be a tv medical show of some sort. After about another hour, Wanda came through the hall, giving a smile towards Bucky with a nod as if to say she had it from here, before disappearing into the room. Bucky stood, watching the door close he caught a glimpse of Y/N sleeping soundly. He smiled, tucking his hands back in his pockets as he made his way back to his own room.

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TAGLIST: @vicmc624 @the-ayo-lit @daddysfavoritesexkitten @springsoulofengland @tcc-gizmachine @taina-eny @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #marvelfanfiction #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #bucky barnes imagine #becky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #marvelfanfic

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not-delicious-milk · 4 years ago

Text

untangle

pairing | itadori yuuji x fushiguro megumi

content | fluff, light angst, humor. birthday fic for the birthday boy. yuuji has adhd and i will die on that hill

word count | 1.7k

form | oneshot

originally posted | 23 december 2020

author's note | yes i wrote this because i got back into knitting. i know i’m a day late for fushi’s birthday but shh. anyway itafushi brainrot

Itadori hyperfixates on knitting. Shenanigans ensue.

It started out innocent enough.

Gojou had decided to treat them to shopping in the city, something that excited Kugisaki and Itadori beyond reason. Fushiguro thought that those two would probably faint from excitement if their sensei ever indulged them in a trip to Roppongi, as he'd promised them so many months ago, even though he knew fully well it was little more than a tourist trap.

Then they passed by a fabric store, and Itadori had stopped cold in his tracks at the sight of the multicolored yarns in the window. Peeking over a teetering pile of bags and boxes he was holding for Kugisaki, Itadori drew so close to the window his breath misted up the glass.

"What is it, Itadori?" Kugisaki huffed. She turned around and barely suppressed a laugh when she saw him staring. "Are you a grandmother now? Come on, I still need to pick up new stockings."

"No, it's just—" Itadori glanced back at her, wide eyed. "You know, my grandfather taught me to knit once, when I was really little. I hadn't given it much thought since…" His sentence trailed off. "Anyway, it's getting colder now, right? Plus Christmas is coming up. Maybe I should pick it up again."

Fushiguro shrugged. "As long as you don't go crazy. Like that time with the stamps."

"Listen — those were limited edition stamps—"

"And the historical romance movies."

"How did you — come on, Pride and Prejudice is a classic—"

"And the bullet journals?"

"I didn't even get that many of those! Gojou-sensei was the one who recommended those to keep track of stuff."

"You had to empty one of your manga shelves just to store all the stationary you bought!"

"Okay, I get it!" Itadori held up one of his hands in a gesture of surrender, nearly dropping Kugisaki's things in the process. "In and out. All I want to do is look."

But that was not all he wanted to do. Itadori wanted to touch the yarn, and then he was ogling the seasonal colors, and then he was flipping through pattern books, and then he was discussing different wool blends with the lady working there, and then he was picking out bamboo circular knitting needles, and then he was ordering cones of yarn in different colors, and by the time they staggered out of the fabric store, Fushiguro was ready to collapse.

The way home was just as bad, if not worse. Itadori talked Gojou's ear off the whole time about different stitches he wanted to try and projects he was going to start. "Oh, by the way, Fushiguro!"

Fushiguro turned at the mention of his name. "What is it?"

"Would you prefer a scarf or a hat? I picked out this blue acrylic-wool blend to match your eyes, but I'm not sure which one you would prefer."

Fushiguro blinked at him. "A— a scarf, I guess."

Itadori gave him a thumbs up and then went right back to talking a mile a minute. Fushiguro wasn't sure if he should be paying attention or not. He glanced at Kugisaki, who was in a world of her own looking at the souvenirs and new accessories she had bought with Gojou's credit card.

Gojou himself seemed only mildly interested in what Itadori was saying. He seemed to be thinking of something else, but he did seem to be making an effort to show his student that he was listening.

Fushiguro sighed. He really was hopeless. "Itadori, tell me about the patterns you want to try."

Itadori turned to him, and Fushiguro let himself take in the radiant glow of his eyes for one selfish moment, before training his gaze on the floor of the train.

(Was it too much to ask for him to stop being so bright all the time?)

The excitement could barely keep its way out of Itadori's voice as he described the different ways to knit a sock, and Fushiguro smiled a little, careful not to let Gojou see it. He would never let him live it down.

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"Fushigurooooooooooooooo!"

He doesn't have to yell. The walls are so thin between our rooms anyway. "What?" he called back, a little quieter.

"I need your help! Come here!"

Fushiguro sighed and closed the book he'd been reading. It was a hefty tome on marine biology he'd picked up the week before. And in that week, Itadori had probably knit enough to clothe a small country.

Well, that was an exaggeration. But he really had been spending all his time working on some project or another, and Fushiguro was mentally counting down until his inevitable burnout.

He opened the door to Itadori's room and poked his head inside. "What— oh."

Itadori grinned sheepishly at him. He was in the middle of a pile of tangled yarn, probably partially tangled in it himself, seated on the floor. "Um, I could use another pair of hands."

Fushiguro sighed for as long as he could, feigning annoyance.

(He really didn't mind.)

"Thanks, man." Itadori wriggled his way out of his multicolored bonds and started picking at the strands. "I promise it's not as bad as it looks." What it looked was pretty bad.

"I just forgot to organize them when I was done with a color. I had just been putting them in a bin under my bed."

Really? Not a blender?

Fushiguro said nothing as he worked at a thick knot.

"Brat, do something about him."

His eyes went wide as Fushiguro whipped his head around to see a mouth formed on Itadori's cheek, speaking in a familiarly cold voice. "He's driving me insane."

Itadori slapped a hand over Sukuna's mouth automatically. "You were already insane," he muttered under his breath.

The mouth opened again on his hand. "All you think about are your projects. If I wanted to possess a grandmother, I would have done so. Brat, break his knitting needles, throw out his yarn, something. I know you find it irritating too."

Itadori pointedly ignored Sukuna's voice, but for a moment Fushiguro was sure he saw something flicker in his eyes — something like disappointment, or maybe regret. His smile seemed a little too tight, his gaze too fixed.

Ever since he had come back to life, Fushiguro had noticed that Itadori wasn't quite the same. He never wanted to talk about it, either, besides the few words they'd exchanged before the Goodwill Event.

But these days, something about Itadori Yuuji seemed a little unsure. He seemed harder, cracked around the edges like broken glass. He was smiling the same smile as ever, but something in his eyes told Fushiguro that he didn't mean it.

Fushiguro imagined that he was untangling Itadori. Maybe it was that he didn't trust him enough, wasn't close enough to him, didn't care as much about him as Fushiguro did him, but there was something twisted up inside Itadori that he didn't let anyone touch.

(He would never admit it, but Fushiguro wished that he could. Sort through the strands one by one, with care and with gentleness, until he was all smoothed out.)

"Itadori," Fushiguro said quietly.

"Huh?" By the time he turned around to meet his eyes, Itadori had already masked his brief slippage of control.

"I don't think it's irritating."

Itadori laughed a little. "No, it's okay. You don't have to feel bad, I know I'm going a little overboard…"

"I'm serious."

He fell silent and ran his fingers through his soft pink hair. Again, there it was — a flash of something between disappointment and regret. "I just… it feels nice to make stuff for other people, I guess." And there he went again. Always other people first.

(When would he realize other people worried about him too?)

Fushiguro didn't say anything else, but silently picked a piece of yarn off of Itadori's hoodie.

"Oh! That's right!" Itadori suddenly stood up and rummaged through his bag. "It's your birthday tomorrow, isn't it?"

It was. Fushiguro hadn't told anyone about it though — there wasn't much he hated more than other people fussing over him on his birthday. The attention, the coddling praise, the presents… all of it was too much.

Who could have—

The winking face of his sensei flashed across his mind. Of course.

"Here you go, before I forget to give it to you." Itadori handed him a folded blue scarf. "It's your birthday present!"

Fushiguro took the scarf gingerly. It seemed to tingle in his hands, and he could almost feel the attention and time that Itadori had put into it. It had a complicated-looking cable pattern that must have taken him forever.

"Do you— do you like it?"

He glanced up at Itadori, whose usually sunny face was clouded over with insecurity. Ah, I must have made a face by accident.

Fushiguro answered by putting the scarf on. It even smelled like him. If he breathed in deeply, he could smell Itadori's fabric softener and the scent of the outdoors that always seemed to cling to him — wood and soft grass and—

Stop smelling the scarf.

"I like it," he managed. He couldn't make eye contact with Itadori — if he did, he was afraid his careful mask of casual indifference might break and reveal something much more embarrassing.

"You do? Oh, that's good." Somehow Itadori didn't sound very convinced.

Fushiguro risked looking into his eyes. "I really love this," he stated firmly. "Honestly, I'm glad you decided to start knitting again." He paused a moment before going a step further, grasping at the tangled strands around him and within the boy who stood before him. "I think your grandfather would be really proud of you."

Itadori blinked in surprise. "Oh." A wide grin spread across his face. "Well, I'm glad you like it!"

Fushiguro gestured hopelessly to the mountain of tangled yarn.

"Ah, right."

An easy silence fell as they untangled the rest of the yarn. The warmth of the scarf around Fushiguro's neck was grounding, and reminded him of the warmth of the boy next to him.

Itadori scooted closer to him and rested his head on Fushiguro's shoulder, surprising him. Neither of them said a word as they picked at knots of yarn.

"Thank you," muttered Itadori under his breath.

Maybe birthdays weren't so bad after all.

#birthday boyyyy #slight spoilers for events just after the current anime canon #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itafushi #itadori x fushiguro #itadori yuuji #itadori yuji #fushiguro megumi

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years ago

Text

Title: I Got You** {One-Shot}

Lewis Tan x Reader

Warning: Mild Cursing, Fluff, Mild to Moderate NSFW, Mild to Moderate Smut

Words: 3.1k

Summary: Lewis takes notice that you’re having a hard day, so he pushes everything to the side to make it easier.

Note: This is for @munteanhorewrites I hope this make you feel all fluffy, doll. 💜💜

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Mildly Interactive***

~~~~~~~~

The way you kissed him goodbye this morning was weighing heavily on his mind. He was so in tune with you that it was easy for him to decipher how you felt. Depending on the kiss he got, he could determine if you were happy, feeling flirtatious, sad, angry, or even annoyed. This morning’s kiss was a detached one that left the taste of melancholy on his lips. He’d wanted to pull you back to him and badger you until you told him what was wrong, but time was once again against him.

Four hours into this shoot, and he was still at it. He’d never had more than fifteen minutes to himself, and even then, he was still working. Either it was doing small interviews and web appearances, or it was answering emails. He always tried to find a balance in his life. A balance to give you the attention you deserved, but the last few months had been difficult because his name was coming up more and more for potential roles, which meant many more meetings.

Finally, with some time for himself, he dialed you. After three rings, you picked up.

“Hi babe,” you said, your voice low and dejected.

“Hi, princess. How are you?”

“Eh--,” you began on a sigh. “I’m okay. I’m just sitting on the balcony with Bear.”

“Is she keep you good company until daddy comes home?”

“Yeah, she’s always so sweet to me.”

Even your voice now didn’t sound like your usual self. He could feel something was off.

“What’s wrong, princess?”

Again, you sighed, but you didn’t speak right away. Instead of speaking, he patiently waited for you to be ready to talk about it. He knew better than to force you to open up. You’d do it in your own time. After almost a minute, you spoke.

“It’s just one of those days, I guess.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it,” he coaxed on.

“I just feel at a crossroads, I guess. I don’t know how to explain it. I feel all over the place, but like I’m standing still. I don’t even know if that made any sense.”

He could hear the struggle in your voice and even felt the chaos going on in your head. His heart sunk, and just like that, his decision was made.

“It made sense. How about we talk about it when I get in?”

“Sure, baby, I’m sorry I don’t mean to bring you down while you’re working,” you began before he quickly shut you down.

“I don’t wanna hear you say that again. You never bring me down. You’re the reason I’m always on cloud ten.”

You snorted. “Babe, you mean, cloud nine.”

“Nah, I said what I meant, princess. Cloud ten. You got me walking in the sky on a whole different level than anyone else. They wish they were me.”

“You’re so silly. Get back to work,” you teased.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, baby.”

“I love you. You know that, right.”

“I know, babe,” you began to brush off.

“No, I don’t think you do, but you will by the end of the day,” he finished.

Once he ended the call, he got on the phone with his people to cancel the rest of his day. He didn’t care what it took. He had no intention of working for the rest of the day. It was strictly for you.

Once the photo shoot was finished, he made a few quick stops to pick up things he would need. Plenty of your favorite candles. An overflow of your bath and body products from Lush. Your favorite order from the Japanese restaurant you always craved. Several servings of your favorite dessert and a few gifts. When he made it home, it almost six. Before bringing in the bags, he tracked you down, finding you still on the balcony in the bedroom.

“Hey, baby.”

Your smile was bright, but it never reached your eyes. “Hi.”

He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. “You smell like cotton candy, vanilla, and sugar. Where’ve you been?”

Trying not to seem suspicious, he shrugged. “I just picked up a few things from the store. Have you eaten today?”

You leaned back and hugged Bear closer, who was trying to reach him. Bending down closer, he allowed her to lick along his jaw.

“Hi Bear, how are you? Have you been taking care of our lil’ mama? Yes, you have. Such a good girl.”

For a few moments, both of you snuggled and scratched behind Bear’s ears, showering her with the same affection she always showed both of you.

“So, did you?”

“I had some tea and a muffin earlier.”

“Princess,” he began scolding before you sighed then pouted those perfect lips.

“Don’t be mad at me,” I couldn’t take that too.”

“No baby, I’m not mad. I just don’t like it when you don’t take care of yourself. You mean everything to me, and I need you around.”

You felt your heart swell from his words. You knew you meant a lot to him, but hearing him voice it always made your heart skip a beat. Turning around with the chair back between you, you flung your arms around his neck, holding him closer.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, princess,” Lewis whispered back.

That was when you let everything out. You told him about the sleepless night you’d had, which he wasn’t even aware of. You told him about your worries, your fears, the anxieties that had reared their ugly heads, and held you captive all day. You held nothing back. The deepness of your anxieties and pain had him pulling you out of the chair, so you straddled him on the floor. He held you as you cried and let you use him as your teddy bear for as long as you needed.

Once your sobs subsided, he proceeded to tell you all the things he loved about you, beginning with your kind and giving heart, the one he fell in love with first. He told you how much he loved your sense of humor and intelligence and loyalty to those you love. He even revealed a few secrets he’d held on to since the beginning of your relationship that would have told you how completely wrapped around your finger you had him. Nothing was off limits. He let it all out.

By the time the sun had set over the horizon, you were staring at each other, neither in a rush to move or do anything else. He almost forgot about the night he’d planned—almost.

“Give me ten minutes. I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing your nose and placing you on the floor.

He rushed around your home to gather the bath products he’d bought and brought them into the bathroom to fill the tub. As he filled it, he didn’t think much of what ingredients were meant for what; all he cared about was the scent. He knew which scents would help with stress and mood, and those were the ones he focused on. As the water filled and the bath bombs fizzed out, he placed the candles around the bathroom and lit each one.

Once he was sure everything was perfect, he went back to your bedroom and found you right where he left you, again with Bear in your arms. She loved the attention. Slowly he covered your eyes and led you to the bathroom, all the while you softly giggled.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing. I just want tonight to be all about you. I want you to truly feel loved, taken care of, and safe.”

“Aw, babe.”

When he lowered his hands from your eyes, you gasped and brought yours to your mouth.

“Oh my god, Lewis.”

Before you was such a lovely sight, it brought tears to your eyes. The soft glow of the plethora of candles that were decorated around bathed the room in a romantic aura that had butterflies filling your belly. When your eyes dropped to the tiled floors, you found red and white rose petals leading to the back of the bathroom, where the dark bamboo colored flooring held the white porcelain tub.

“Babe.”

The tears in your eyes welled to capacity. Lewis dragged the pads of his thumbs just underneath your eyes to sweep them away.

“Come on.”

He led you along the flower path to the tub. The scent of plumeria, gardenia, vanilla, brown sugar, and a few other scents wrapped around you, making you moan.

“Babe, this is so sweet,” you whined. When he smiled and showed off those adorable dimples, you playfully dug your pointer into them, deepening them.

“Come on. Let’s get you in.”

Lewis stepped behind you, undid your robe, and helped you into the tub. As you sank down, you sighed out, relishing the feel of the hot water on your skin. Once you sat, you stretched and dipped your back to rest your neck against the cushion there.

“Is it good?”

“Yes, baby, thank you.”

Instead of leaving, Lewis went behind you, sat on the raised portion of the floor, and picked up your bath gloves. When you felt him begin to bathe you, you melted.

“You’re going to give me a bath?”

“Yep,” he replied.

“Sure, you can handle that?”

His smile was wide before he bit his bottom lip. “You know how focused I can be when I have a goal.”

“And what’s the goal, baby?”

Your eyes met. “The goal is to have the love of my life feel like the queen she is. So turn around, lay back, and let daddy do all the work.”

You did as you were told, and Lewis did as he promised—he did all the work. Lewis rubbed your muscles and massaged out all the kinks and lumps your body held with expertise. You always knew he was good with his hands. He could handle every weapon with ease and skill. That skill didn’t stop there; it stretched far beyond martial arts and weaponry. By the time he’d drained the tub and rinsed your body off, you could have floated away from how lite you felt.

He left you for a few minutes leaving you to wrap in a towel and make it back to your bedroom where you found your stock of body products replenished with a sweet note and gift box. Inside the gift box were a new robe and a sexy cami and short set. After lathering your skin with the lotion that smelled like coconuts, roses, and cocoa butter, you put the items on. When you turned around there, Lewis stood leaning on the door jamb, just quietly watching you.

“How long have you been there?”

“Since you popped that delectable thigh up there,” he said, nodding to the bed.

Smiling, you tried not to feel embarrassed. He’d been watching since the very beginning and hadn’t made one sound.

“How many times have I told you not to used your creepy martial arts stealth against me,” you teased as you walked across to him.

“Once or twice, but I get the best shows when you don’t know I’m there,” he cooed into your ear before he placed and kiss on your neck.

“Mmm, you smell so good,” Lewis added, biting your shoulder, making you moan and melt against him. His hand slid down the curve of your back to grip your backside, again making you moan.

“I like this,” he huskily mentioned.

“Not sure who you bought it for, me or you.”

Lewis’s grip tightened on your flesh, pulling you closer so you could feel the beginning stirs of his arousal.

“Mmm, is that also for me?”

You lifted a leg and wrapped it around him, making his grip change, so his fingertips gently brushed your sex. The action made both of you groan. When you felt his member thicken even more, you slipped your hand between you to rub your hand against his crotch. Lewis sucked in a breath, then grunted.

“Behave, princess,” he said before you felt him pinch your clit, sending a hot red blaze of desire through your body.

Lewis lowered your leg, turned, and led you out of the bedroom and down the stairs. When he brought you into the living room, you stopped in your tracks to find the biggest pillow and blanket fort you’d ever seen. Excitement bubbled in you, which had you jumping and screeching as Bear scurried by your feet.

“Oh my god, baby. A pillow fort? Aaah!”

With that, you ran around the living room, looking at everything he’d managed to do. It was a small thing, but he knew how much you loved cheesy things like this. When you rounded to him, you leaped into his arms, wrapping your legs around him.

“Oh, baby, thank you. I love it,” you said, kissing all over his face.

“I’m glad you like it. It’s gonna stay up the whole week. It took forever.” Your smile was wide before you kissed him once, then twice. On the third kiss, you delved your tongue into his mouth and took control of a kiss you hoped showed him how much this and he meant to you. Lewis moaned on your mouth before his hands dropped to cup your ass. As if unconsciously, he angled you against his need, and in seconds you were making out and moaning. Lewis was the one to abruptly pull away and groan.

“Let’s eat.”

Dinner was amazing and perfect. While you ate, Lewis gave you complete control over what you watched. Not wanting to make him sit through some super sappy romance movie, you chose something with a good mix of action and romance. By the time you moved on to the second movie, dinner was finished, and you’d moved on to dessert. Again you melted when you saw just how much trouble he’d gone through for you today. The second gift he gave you was a gold bracelet with a heart with your first initial and his together, and the mandarin word forever etched on the back. That was when stray tears rolled down your face, to which Lewis whispered nothing but words of love, infatuation, and desire.

Halfway through their third movie, your hands began their search for the warmth of his flesh. It didn’t take long for your search to go from innocent to complete debauchery. You could tell your touch was having an effect when Lewis’s breathing sounded more and more labored, and the speed of his heartbeat increased underneath your cheek. The way his slim limbs looked in his boxer briefs had your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Slipping your hand down his abdomen and over every ab, you slinked your hand unto his underwear. Lewis groaned.

“What’re you doing, princess?”

“What does it feel like, daddy?”

He groaned, bit his bottom lip, then slightly arched when you gently gripped his shaft.

“This is supposed to be a calm night for you. it’s not supposed to be about--.”

His words paused, and breath hitched as your hand traveled lower to caress the balls of his manhood.

“God, you’re killing me, baby.”

“What am I doing?”

When he looked at you, the innocence in your eyes hid his member visibly pulsate. The helplessness you saw in his eyes had you instantly wet. You swung your leg over him and straddled him, letting the heat from your core sear his hardness, branding him as yours all over again. Lewis sucked in a breath and leaned back on one of the mountains of pillows.

“We don’t—you don’t have to—I just wanted to do something nice for you. I wanted to show you how much I love you,” Lewis rushed out with great effort.

“I love you so much for everything you did today. You didn’t have to, and I appreciate it and you more than you’ll ever know,” you began.

You then leaned closer to him so your face was right in front of his. He was close enough to kiss. All he had to do was take it.

“It’s my turn to do something for you to show you how much I love you.”

Once the words came out, Lewis’s lips were on yours. He kissed you intensely and passionately. It was a kiss that stole your breath. In no time, everything had flipped, including your body. You were now underneath him with your legs spread. As Lewis kissed you, he rocked his body against you, fanning the flames of your desire.

“I love you,” Lewis whispered as you peeled his underwear off his hips. Lewis assisted you in sliding them lower until he’d kicked them off.

Once you felt the heaviness of his need rest on your pubis, you moaned and wrapped a leg around his back. Lewis didn’t wait. In seconds he’d managed to pull off the shorts you wore and fling them somewhere in the room. From then, there was no need to go slowly.

“Make love to me,” you whispered.

Lewis locked eyes with yours and thrust forward, connecting your bodies. Both of you sighed out as if you’d found your sanctuary after a long day.

“I love you,” you whispered on a strangled breath.

His response was a kiss that spoke of nothing but languid need, while his thrusts said he needed you and needed you now. His thrusts were swift but deep, and they worked to drive you insane. Within minutes you were clinging to him, sinking your nails into his back. Every connection you clenched around him while panting his name. On every retreat, he whimpered yours.

“You’re my world, Y/N.”

You could see the truth of what he spoke in his eyes, and it brought you closer to the edge. Lewis sensed it and doubled down on his efforts to make you come undone.

“Do you love me, princess?”

“So much, baby,” you whispered before you gasped loudly.

Your back arched, and seconds later, you were clenching around him as your orgasm tore through you. It was so powerful it dragged Lewis down with you. The two of you laid on the soft blankets of your fort, catching your breath. Lewis traced lazy patterns into your skin before he shifted onto his side, taking you with him. As you gazed into each other eyes, you fell in love with him all over again.

“Thank you, baby.”

“I’d do anything for you. Remember, I’m always here for you. You win, I win. You’re happy; I’m over the moon. You’re unhappy; my world is dark. Confide in me. I got you.”

He kissed your nose and pulled you closer. It didn’t take long for you both to doze off completely exhausted.

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

Tag List:

@chaneajoyyy @caplover22 @caramara3 @dangerouslovefanfic @munteanhorewrites @shar74nett @xsweetdellzx @night-of-the-living-shred @labella420 @coldmuffinbanditshoe @areubeingserved @cxmfort @littlepreciousangel @youremysuperstar @i-just-like-fanfics @k347 @storiestoldbyjazz @jovanaprime @ramp-it-up @october505 @ukmkhan @liquorlaughslove @msblkfire84 @live-laugh-love-ki @literaturefeen @winchwm @queenoftheworldisdead

#i got you one shot #lewis tan #lewis tan fanfiction #lewis tan one shot #lewis tan x reader #lewis tan x you #lewis tan x black reader #black fanfiction #fluff fanfic #lewis tan smut

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anotheronechicagobog · 4 years ago

Text

Functional Dysfunction - Rheese - Chapter 5 - It Isn’t Salad

written by @anotheronechicagobog

warnings: swearing, mention of abortion, mention of attempting to force abortion, unplanned preganancy, Connor and Robin are still together, Jimmy is still an ass, but now so is Chilli

The next day everyone was acting weird around her. Manning and Maggie were now running away from her, Halstead couldn't meet her eyes, Choi pretended to take a phone call when they were alone in the doctor's lounge, and Doris was completely silent. That never happened. She gossiped about anything and everything, until now Sarah hadn't believed there was a force on earth powerful enough to shut her up.

A distraction came in the form of a mass casualty structural collapse at a construction site. Injured workers flooded in, while Sarah and Choi were tasked with going to the scene and treating people in the field. It was Sarah's first time working like that. So far it had only been fully stocked EDs or ORs with copious amounts of staff ready to jump into action. Here there were limited supplies, limited staff, and unlimited chaos.

So far the building they were constructing was a small five-story apartment building, it didn't have any walls or floors, it was just metal beams and underlying structure. Half of the crossbeams had just... Come off, taking the workers that were on them, towards the concrete foundation, where other workers were. It was a grizzly, awful site. There were going to be so many casualties, no doubt about it. She reached her first patient, a woman no older than twenty, whose arm was being crushed by a beam near the shoulder. It was purple. She had to amputate.

Red tag, red tag, black tag, red tag, black tag, black tag, black tag, red tag, green tag, black tag, red tag.

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

She hadn’t eaten in ten hours and there were two more action-packed hours left in her shift. While she was finally back in the hospital, she couldn’t help but feel like she was still at the disaster site. One wrong move, one wrong word, and tragedy would occur. Of course at Gaffney it would be social tragedy, but still, she felt like she was navigating a mine field. She’d been on her feet non-stop since her shift started and she was feeling more mentally drained than physically drained. The other interns looked at her the way she imagined vultures would, beady eyes looking at your dying soul, ready to devour your corpse. Except... She wasn’t dying. She was in perfect health, it was apparent that they thought her career was about to be drop-kicked into an active volcano. Boy were they in for a surprise.

“Dr. Reese, scrub up, I need you in the OR with me.” Chad Dovingly, the resident “legacy” intern, almost yelled at Dr. Abrams, but Sarah watched him stop himself. “Sam-”

“Do not call me by my first name, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that. Call me ‘Dr. Abrams’ or don’t speak to me at all.”

“Right, right, my apologies. Dr. Abrams, are you sure that Dr. Reese is the right choice? I mean, I was literally born to be a surgeon, I was in the top ten at my med school, and Dr. Reese, well... Is this because she’s pregnant-”

“Stop. Talking. You may have been in the top ten of your class, but she was the first in hers. She has shown far more dedication and skill than any of you here, and I will not stand here while you not only accuse me of favouritism, but belittle your colleague and fellow intern because of a matter that is absolutely none of your business. The reason you aren’t scrubbing in as much is that you’re not good enough to yet, so if you want to scrub in more, prove to me that you’re worthy of it, because honestly so far Dr. Reese and Dr. Kim are the only ones who have done so.” He dismissed the other interns with only a head nod, leaving the two of them alone in the hallway. “Dr. Reese, the surgery is in two hours. Read up on the procedure and eat something, then meet me in OR four.” The confusion must have been displayed on her face so he sighed and pulled her to the side away from the other interns. “Dr. Manning cornered me earlier and informed me that you’ve been on your feet all day, and you’re going to be staying late. So eat something and then join me in the OR.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll see you in two hours then.”

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She had a sandwich in her bag, but she doubted that the cold cut meats would still taste good after all this time. She debated going to the cafeteria but at this time all that would be available was heavy fast food. “Sarah?”

“Hi Dr. Manning, don’t worry Dr. Abrams ordered me to eat something before I join him in the OR.”

“Good. I was actually coming to get you, we ordered pizza down in the ED and I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”

“Something tells me you’re not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“A correct assumption, come on it should be here by now.”

They were almost at the doctor’s lounge when Sarah couldn’t ignore the need to ask anymore. “... You know, don’t you?”

“Yes. We all do. I’m sorry that we’ve been avoiding you all day, we just didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“What sur-”

“SURPRISE!” Sarah jumped out of her skin and then looked around the lounge. There was a shiny blue ‘congratulations’ banner along the back wall, streamers taped to the ceiling and a stack of pizza boxes on the table. “We want you to know that we’re here for you and that we’re happy for you. I know that you don’t have a lot of time, she needs to scrub up at OR four in... one hour and fifty-one minutes, but celebrate with us a little now, we just want to make sure that you feel supported.”

“And that you eat, no one needs you fainting in an OR.”

“Thank you, all of you, so much... I really appreciate this, I was pretty scared at first, I still am, but I’m confident in my decision.”

“Trust me, we know Sarah.” Puzzled, she looked around at her co-workers and found them all snickering in the direction of Connor and Robin. Connor blushed and lowered his head with anawkward smirk while Robin rolled her eyes. “Doris tried to talk smack and I can honestly say that I have never seen someone get verbally eviscerated so viciously. Showed all of us not to mess with Robin.” Everyone around her chuckled and seemed to unanimously agree with Maggie. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Sarah. Besides I think it was about time someone knocked her down a peg. I mean, I know that gossip is just a part of hospital life, but she just takes it to a whole other level.”

Maggie and Nat were the least tense around her since this whole thing started, Choi and Halstead just seemed relieved that there wasn’t anything wrong with her, April and Noah just seemed content to make her laugh as loud as possible, Robin made sassy quips about the two of them sticking together, and Connor just made sure she always had pizza on her plate. They exchanged a smile when he made sure that she was the first one to eat ‘I know that it’s not salad but it’s still pretty good’. Sarah couldn’t have been more delighted to see Connor moving more freely, lighter, with an enormous weight having been removed from his shoulders.

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The surgery... Did not go well, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault thankfully. Their patient had the largest tumor she’d ever seen in the centre of their brain and when Dr. Abrams removed it, it looked horrifying to be frank. There was literally a hole in this poor man’s brain which unfortunately resulted in brain damage. It was a serious risk from the beginning, so the patient and family had been informed numerous times in the days leading up to and of the surgery. Delivering that news had been assigned to Sarah and she was not looking forward to it. She left the recovery suite where the patient has just been examined after waking up and went to the waiting room where his husband was waiting along with his twin sister were after Dr. Abrams told them to wait while they examined him. “How is he?”

“He’s okay, right?”

“I am so sorry to tell you this, but he did sustain significant brain damage and it’s very likely that it’s permanent. There’s also a possibility that he could... Pass away due to the severity.” The second that the word ‘sorry’ was out of her mouth they both broke down in tears, holding onto each other for dear life. “You can see him, if you want, and I can explain a few things. Dr. Abrams will check on him again tomorrow at seven am, to give him more time to improve-”

“So, he could get better, my brother could recover.”

“I need to stress that while that is a vague possibility, it is incredibly unlikely, and I don’t want to get your hopes up. I’m so sorry.”

“... Can you take us to him? Or at least me? I totally understand if you can’t see him yet, he’s your twin, but... We- He’s the love of my life. I need to see him.” Sarah nodded and gestured for them to follow her, she wasn’t sure if his sister would at first, but she did, with a far-off, grave look in her eyes. Sarah tried not to think about it, after all, this poor woman was just told her twin brother suffered brain damage and would probably never be the same again, she was allowed to react however she needed to. Still... Sarah couldn’t help but feel like foreshadowing had taken physical form, like her patient’s sister knew more than she was saying.

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Sarah had forty minutes left in her shift when alarms started blaring. She knew before she even turned around who it was and what the outcome would be. Despite being in her usual ‘crap someone’s dying’ speed her ankles felt like lead, and her soul had stayed at the computer she was working on. Her mind was still there, still searching her head for the best course of action before conducting it, giving orders to nurses, telling someone to get his loved ones out of the room, and shouting for someone to page the on-call neurosurgeon... But it was no use. And from the way everyone was looking at each other that this was the outcome they expected. “Time of death, 21:37.” Her voice felt so out of place, the vibrations her thoat made were irritating. The late patient’s fiance and sister were in the doorway. He was sobbing so inconsolably, so loud, it made Sarah’s heart clench. She however, looked numb, like a part of her just died. She looked Srah dead in the eyes and Sarah’s heart broke all over again. She’d known. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you Dr. Reese... I know that you and Dr. Abrams did everything you could. Could- could we have a moment with my brother? To say... Goodbye?”

“Of course.”

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When she finally left the hospital she was in tatters. She wasn’t sure if it was the pregnancy hormones or if it was her patient’s death, but all that she really wanted to do was cry. No, she needed to cry. Sadness and despair was bubbling up inside of her and she just didn’t want to keep it inside her. But of course the universe had other plans. When she finally made it to her car the last two people she wanted to see were standing beside it and sitting on it. She sighed, on the verge of tears and not in any mood to deal with either of them. “Jimmy. Chilli.”

“We need to talk.”

“We don’t actually. We really, really don’t. You don’t want to be involved and that’s fine. When they’re born we’ll do a paternity test because that’s what’s required for you to sign away your rights, and then you’ll do just that, and then you’ll walk away. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. I’m not okay with you having my baby.”

“And I’m not okay with it either, he’s my... Boyfriend and I don’t want another chick to have his child.”

“Okay, first of all, neither of you get a say and whether or not I have this child. My body, my decision, that’s it. Second, Chilli, you have absolutely no say here in anything. You are not the mother or the father and I’m not even sure if you guys are dating given your hesitation in calling Jimmy your ‘boyfriend’ and you have such a volatile on/off relationship, you get zero say in anything even remotely related to my baby.”

“HEY! DON’T TALK TO HER LIKE THAT-”

“Speak to me like an adult or don’t speak to me at all. You don’t get to yell at me, you don’t get to use that tone with me, it’s not okay.”

“I CAN SPEAK TO YOU HOWEVER I WANT! AND YOU ARE GETTING AN ABORTION EVEN IF I HAVE TO DRAG YOU THERE MYSELF!” In the next three seconds Sarah observed three things:

There were two of them and one of her

They were in a dimly lit, poorly monitored parking garage alone

They had to deal with violent people at their jobs more than she did and would likely overpower her

“The hell she is! She made her choice Borelli and you didn’t get a say in it!” Okay, so #2 was not true apparently, as Connor walked closer to them from the entrance. “This isn’t any of your business doc, so just go, okay?”

“You’re threatening my friend in a dark parking garage. Yes, it is my business. But it isn’t yours, you’ve said that you don’t want to be a dad, so you won’t be, and I don’t even know why Chilli is here, so you two need to get off of Sarah’s car and leave her alone.”

“No. We don’t have to listen to you. I’ll talk to her however I fucking want, I don’t have to move away from her car, and Chilli doesn’t have to get off it. Fuck. Off.”

“Connor, you worked a long shift, you shouldn’t have to stay for this, I’ll figure it out.”

“I appreciate the thought Sarah, but you worked a long day too and I’m seriously worried about your safety around them. Why don’t I just drive you home? It really isn’t a big deal.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am-”

“HEY! DON’T TALK ABOUT US LIKE WE AREN’T HERE! AND THIS ISN’T ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS!”

“Oh, go suck an egg, Borelli. Lead the way, Connor.”

“Gladly.”

They’d managed to make it to his car before the, quite honestly delusional, couple(?) realized they were seriously leaving, and Connor was pulling away with them shouting expletives and trying to chase the car on foot. “Thanks Connor, I really appreciate this.”

“Anytime Sarah, seriously. I care about you, you’ve become someone I trust and I want you to be safe and happy. I’ll help to make that happen if you ever need it.” Maybe it was the hormones, the encounter with Jimmy and Chilli, or the day just catching up with her, but she just couldn’t keep the exhaustion and gratitude out of her voice. “Thank you.”

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clarafell · 3 years ago

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@rosecoloredmuses entered the witch’s labyrinth. — ★

The battle is over as the praying witch is over slower than she originally predicted. The sky, which resembles a stained glass window in bleak shades of gray, begins to shatter as Elsa Maria is defeated. The self-righteous witch lived in her lonely labyrinth, forever locked in prayer and darkness. The bright colors of the undisturbed afternoon day welcome her back to the real world. She ran through a mental checklist in her head over what else she needed to do today and tomorrow. She had enough time before Walpurgisnacht will arrive, but Homura knew that her ammunition was running dangerously low. Times like these are when she silently cursed Kyubey and definitely herself for not being given a magical weapon. Her shield was useful, but it had no offensive uses in the slightest. Madoka has always been destined to hold her beautiful bow with its blossoming pink rose and deadly pink arrows of light. Mami was expertly skilled in using her rifled muskets, but she also proved to be quite formidable with her ribbons. Sayaka may have the gift to heal faster than an ordinary magical girl, but her weapon of choice was an simple yet still deadly cutlass sword. Kyoko enjoyed fighting with her trusty spear, which was multi-jointed. But all she had was a shield. What was she going to do? Whack witches with her shield? She is ashamed that she had used to resort to a golf club in her earlier timelines. I should have been more specific with my wish. My magic may have allowed me to go back in time, but I need to get stronger. Walpurgisnacht is going to come again before I know it. I need to restock my supplies. I guess I will be spending the whole night until dawn doing that... She keeps her frustrated complaint to herself. She had too much on her plate. Sleep, studying, and anything else can wait. She had better things to do.

She suppresses a tired sigh as she picks up the grief seed from the ground. She stares down at the grief seed, taking the moment to contemplate. Her Soul Gem did look a little murky, but... She needed to also restock up on grief seeds. Her ammunition isn’t the only thing that she was running low on. She knew that she needed to keep a big stock of grief seeds in order to both help herself and more importantly anyone else in the city. She could just press the grief seed against the her purple Soul Gem and cleanse away the slowly rising darkness. But she needed to save up on grief seeds. I’ll hunt another witch and use that grief seed before I head off to cram school tomorrow. She settles the internal argument in ease as she swiftly stores the grief seed inside her shield. She knew her limits. She has witnessed the rise and the fall of so many people who contracted with the Incubator. She knew that a little bit of despair in her Soul Gem will not hurt as long as she keeps an eye on its state and her mission.

She dismisses her outfit and returns back to her uniform within a blink of an eye before she walks out of the alleyway. She wished that the grief seed could cleanse her exhaustion instead of cleaning her soul, but that was too much to ask apparently. Just like that, Homura Akemi returns back to repeating her normal routine of walking down the streets. She had to go back home to begin the tedious process of building homemade bombs. She is too lost in thoughts as she tries to debate on what to do first. She had two weeks until the arrival of Walpurgisnacht, but the strain of living too many loops makes her feel restless. The sun has already fallen behind the horizon when she comes to an abrupt stop. Someone has been following her, she notices. She knew that she did not see anyone in her fight with that witch... Was it after the fight then? She is not sure, but it did not matter to her. She can handle an ordinary person— But she felt something in the now evening air. Something dark. But her Soul Gem does not react to the strange disturbance that she felt. I don’t feel any witches or even familiars nearby. Perhaps I should ask Kyubey what must be going on. What am I feeling around me then? She ponders to herself as she raises her wrist to take a peek at the time. She is not sure where to find Kyubey at this hour. She does not realize that it was someone that gave off such energy, not something. In fact, the atmosphere came straight from the person that has been tailing her.

❝ Do you need something? ❞ She spins around to finally acknowledge the person that she almost forgot about. She was not sure what she was expecting to see honestly, but she certainly did not expect someone around her age. Much to her surprise, the possible stalker was surprisingly young. He was not that bad-looking either, but his appearance was not what caught her attention. It was his clothes that she noticed in an instance. Her cool composure, however, slips up a little for a couple of seconds when she notices that the brown-haired male was not wearing a uniform or any everyday clothes. She couldn’t help but gawk at his outfit. She thought most guys would stick to hoodies, but she has severely underestimate the opposite sex. He was actually dressed quite strange-looking with what looks like armor on his shoulders. He was dressed in dark colors, but he appeared to like the color red. The most noticeable thing about his odd attire was the red diamond brooch resting near his chest. She, for a split moment, thought it looked eerily like a soul gem with the way it gleams. But she dismisses her irrational thinking. She would have noticed if this person was someone like her. He was not a walking corpse that was eventually destined to hatch into a monstrous witch.

❝ I don’t know why you seem to be following me... But do you intend on introducing yourself at least? ❞ She recovers from her initial shock at his wardrobe. She hoped for him to leave her alone as soon as possible. She did acknowledge the amusing coincidence that they shared something in common. She had no clue that diamonds were suddenly quite popular. Do I really have some kind of cosplaying stalker on my hands? I don’t have time for this. Her assumption was not too farfetched, but she could also presume that maybe this person had some unique taste in fashion. It looked strange, but it did have a sophisticated appeal.

#❛ ✧ ┊ arc ┊ do not look for her heart anymore for it has been eaten.#❛ ✧ ┊ beware of those bloody thorns. ic.#rosecoloredmuses #(Hey there!!)#(I hope this is okay!)#(I saw that Seiji has a brainwashed form)#(So I thought I would see where this goes)#(What even is this post?)#(I'm sorry for the mess!)#tw long post

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flyinghome-againstthewind · 4 years ago

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the best by far is you: chapter 16

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Previous Chapter

For all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you - Cecilia and the satellite

————

Summary: An exploration of Claire & Jamie’s story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the Battle of Culloden.

Chapter 16

There were three things Claire was keenly aware of in that moment. First, that they were weeks behind Jamie and the gap of time seemed to stretch out ahead of them like the horizon ‒ something they’d never quite reach. The second was the gentle weight of Fergus’s head resting against her shoulder blade while he held loosely to her as their horse kept pace just behind Murtagh’s. She hated to move Fergus, and to stall their progress in closing the gap, but the third thing she was aware of was her bladder getting squished ‒ yet again ‒ as her body tried to accommodate its steadily growing inhabitant.

“Wait!” she called ahead to Murtagh as she started to slow her horse’s pace. Murtagh’s head whipped back frantically, but seeing no present sign of danger, there was a flash of irritation on his face ‒ but only for a moment. He slowed to a stop.

“I’ll be quick.”

Fergus slipped off the horse first and grabbed the reins so Claire could dismount. She did hurry, but the frequent breaks surely weren’t helping them catch up.

Inverness had been a bitter disappointment, to learn that Jamie and Faith had left the very next morning after Culloden and taken Mary with them. They were chasing after ghosts, not knowing the plan or final destination. The matron of the boarding house had only been able to give them the direction that the carriage left in, and from there, their search party stopped at every village, small town, and tavern along the way to inquire if a coach had passed through about 3 weeks ago.

The faint thrill of confirming Claire’s suspicion that Jamie had gone to Inverness first had quickly waned as they cobbled together some sort of trajectory to follow.

Only days before, in their trek through the war-torn Highlands, they’d caught on to the coach’s trail, with confirmed sightings of it that matched the time it should have passed through.

Still… as hard as it was to chase after Jamie and Faith, weeks behind them, they did so knowing that by all indications, Jamie and Faith were still alive and free, traveling under a guise with Mary Hawkins. That kept them pushing forward.

They started to build a map in their minds, comparing the direction the coach was traveling with potential destinations on the other side of that. Like Aberdeen or Dundee, or perhaps even further, into Perth or Edinburgh or Glasgow. And though Mary traveled with them… surely they wouldn’t cross into England…

“There’s a village no more’n half a day’s ride,” Murtagh said as Claire mounted her horse again and held steady while Fergus clamored up behind her. “We should aim tae make it there before dark. See if there’s anyone in town we can talk tae.”

Claire nodded briskly. “I’m sure we can manage that.” She glanced over her shoulder at Fergus. “All set?”

“Oui.”

“Then lead the way, Murtagh.”

And amidst all of this was a fourth awareness, ever-present since she’d opened her eyes that morning. Something never far from her mind and that kept her heart heavy even as they chased desperately after her husband and child.

This day was Faith’s second birthday. And Claire was missing it.

“Ye’d swear th’ whole village was blind…” Murtagh groused, mostly to himself. Then his gaze locked with Fergus’s and this time he directed his next words to the boy. “No’ a single intelligent person anywhere to be found.”

He proceeded to prepare the fresh-caught game for their dinner, not expecting a reply. Fergus stayed silent and swung his gaze over to Claire, checking her reaction.

She smiled slightly, all that she could muster in the moment.

“Where will we go now?” Fergus asked her.

“We’ll still keep pressing southward along the most likely route they would be traveling.” She tried to look more confident in that plan, but caught Murtagh’s frown and figured it hadn’t been too reassuring to Fergus. “Not the first place we’ve stopped without getting answers,” she added as a reminder.

“I suppose,” was all Fergus said to that. He’d built a fire and stacked the wood how Claire had taught him, so that a new log would feed into the fire once the one before it had turned to ash.

They’d made it to the village well before dark and after their rather unsuccessful encounter with the locals, they’d had time to head out to the woods and set up camp. With limited funds that they weren’t sure how far would need to be stretched, they rarely ate in town or stayed at a tavern for the night.

When the food had been cooked over the fire, Claire divided up the portions, giving Murtagh the largest. He tore off some of the meat from his portion and pushed it back into Claire’s hands. “Ye dinna eat enough,” he said in response to her bewilderment.

They ate the bird and some of the potatoes Jenny had provided.

“It’s Faith’s birthday,” Claire said softly over the crackle of the fire. “She’s two.”

Her statement was met with resounding silence from Murtagh and Fergus, except for the soft Scottish harrumph from the older man that she couldn’t quite interpret.

She wasn’t sure what she expected out of telling them, other than it felt wrong to let the day pass without acknowledging it in some way.

Fergus wiped one greasy hand on his pants and reached into his bag propped next to him. He fished out his wooden horse and set it to stand in the grass between him and Claire while he chewed. “Sometimes we have to wait for things, Milady,” he said kindly ‒ sagely, even ‒ while talking around the mouthful of food.

She locked eyes with him and felt her vision swim with tears when he nodded encouragingly. They’d asked him to wait when it was his birthday ‒ smack dab in the middle of a war ‒ and he was still waiting. Still believing that his wish would come to fruition ‒ that it would be Jamie who picked out the horse for him. And in order for that to happen, Fergus had to believe that they would be reunited.

“We will see le petit again.”

“Yes, we will,” she murmured in agreement.

And she did believe that. It was only… she was desperate to find them and had hoped to be reunited with them swiftly. But the reality was setting in… of how long and how far they might be searching still.

And all the while, Claire was missing more days, more moments in her daughter’s life that she’d never get back. How many days had she already lost… and how many more would be swallowed up in the time it took to find her?

That night, Claire couldn’t sleep. She gave up after a while of lying there in the dark, listening to the soft crackling of a dying fire and the rustling of the wind through the trees, and finally pulled herself into a seated position facing the fire instead.

She caught Murtagh’s gaze across the fire instantly. “Not you too?”

“Aye,” he sighed.

“What’s keeping you up, then?” she asked, mostly so he wouldn’t ask her first.

He paused, linking his fingers together over his propped up knees. “Was thinking o’ the wee lass,” Murtagh admitted hesitantly, and Claire felt an instant pang in her heart. “The last time I saw her… and better times, too. Before the rising. At Lallybroch.”

She smiled against the urge to cry ‒ lately, she seemed on the verge of tears at any moment, the cause of which could never be determined between her raging pregnancy hormones or the pain of separation from Jamie and Faith. More than likely, it was some tangled-up knot of both things, she reasoned.

“She is a canny wee lass, and sae bonny and sweet.”

She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that Murtagh cared for Faith ‒ had seen firsthand at Lallybroch how the baby could draw a smile out of the dour old man better than anyone else ‒ but she’d never heard him articulate it so.

And god, it hurt like nothing else ever had ‒ missing Faith and knowing she had other loved ones who were missing her just the same.

Murtagh breathed in deep, and let his breath out slowly, his gaze on the dwindling flames. “I’m only sorry and heartsick for my role in all this… that I played a part in why ye canna see yer lass now, on the anniversary o’ her birth.”

She felt her throat constrict and shook her head. How many rounds of the blame game had she played for herself? “No, Murtagh… I’m sorry,” she managed in a hoarse whisper. “For what I said when I came back. For striking you. I don’t blame you for any of this. I was terrified and angry that they weren’t back at Lallybroch like I’d hoped, and I took it out on you.” She thought of her conversation with Jenny, and the words they’d repeated to each other in reassurance, in absolution. “None of us knew. None of us chose this outcome.”

She stared across at his hardened face, the lines of it appearing sharper in the fading light of the fire. He didn’t speak, and she wondered if that meant he wouldn’t accept her words for himself.

“Please forgive me?”

“Och,” he said immediately. “There’s nothing tae forgive, lass.”

They fell quiet for a moment, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Had her words made any difference, or did he still blame himself even if she didn’t?

There was a strange sense that they were merely retracing steps they’d already taken during the rising. That’s how it felt to Claire at least as they entered Kingussie, near where they had started training Jamie’s men back in August of last year.

They walked into Kingussie on account of Murtagh’s horse needing a new shoe. Upon arriving, Claire handed Murtagh a few coins for the blacksmith and considered out loud how much food she should purchase to replenish their stock.

It was then they all seemed to take notice of a handful of Redcoats exiting the tavern.

“Fergus, stay close to me,” Claire instructed as they parted with Murtagh.

She’d thought Fergus was right behind her as she walked through the small market and picked out some grains and vegetables to pair with the fish or meat that Murtagh usually provided for their meals.

She turned a corner and nearly knocked Fergus over. “Oh. Where have you been?” She set her basket down and her hands went instantly to her hips.

Fergus shook his head as if to indicate that was of little importance.

“Here, Milady.” He reached for her hand and dropped several coins into it.

Her eyes went wide with shock. “Fergus!”

He turned defensive at her tone, seeing she wasn’t exactly pleased. “I will not let you starve! And there is le bébé as well. I heard Murtagh say you need to eat well enough so it can grow.”

“Yes, but do you understand that there are very real consequences to stealing if you are caught?” she snapped at him in a harsh whisper. There was a flash of indignation in his eyes at that.

“I will not get caught.”

She grabbed him by the shoulder and tugged him over to a more secluded spot away from the market stalls.

“You might! There’s always the risk and ‒ for Christ’s sake, Fergus, there are British soldiers right here in town!”

“Where do you think I found those coins?”

She was horrified at what he’d just admitted, with the sudden urge to sequester him out of town immediately, should any of the Redcoats realized what had been done.

“Milord would not have doubted me,” he added accusingly, clearly in response to whatever he’d read in her face.

She recoiled from his words. “It’s not a matter of doubt, I‒”

There was a flicker of movement in her periphery and when she glanced over, what she found made her blood run cold.

Murtagh, on the other side of town from them, surrounded by the soldiers.

Fergus’s head whipped around and Claire had barely enough time to slip a hand over his mouth and hold him back with the other arm before he did something truly stupid.

“Don’t, Fergus,” she pleaded in a desperate whisper as he struggled to break free and rush toward Murtagh. “He’ll be alright. Don’t provoke them. He knows what to do.”

You’ll get yourself killed…

All the while, her heart thundered in her chest, and she hoped that what she’d said would remain true; Murtagh was a stubborn Scot through and through, but he wasn’t stupid. He was outnumbered five to one. Should these soldiers happen to have rosters of Jacobite soldiers, they wouldn’t find Murtagh’s name on it. Jamie had had the foresight to keep Murtagh and the Lallybroch men off of any records during the war.

And with a month having passed since the battle, Murtagh had put away his kilts at Claire’s insistence and now wore breeks. He didn’t look the part of a Jacobite soldier and there was no way these men could prove that Murtagh had fought.

Unless one of them recognized him…

Claire tried to steady her breathing and when she felt as though Fergus had gained some semblance of self-control, she let her hand fall away from his mouth, but still held him anchored in place beside her.

They watched the exchange between Murtagh and the soldiers but were too far away to catch what was being said.

But she took in the way the soldiers acted, the glances they shared, the way they held themselves tall and proud.

And the way Murtagh had to shrink in their presence.

The Redcoats were the recent victors, having put down the Jacobite rebellion. And to them, that meant they could assert their superiority over the people of Scotland as they saw fit.

Finally, the soldiers appeared to be ready to move on, some of them shifting their weight from one foot to the other and beginning to turn and break off from the group.

But one soldier still spoke to Murtagh until suddenly and unexpectedly, Claire and Fergus watched as he spat in Murtagh’s face.

Fergus flinched with his whole body. Claire subconsciously tightened her hold on him and something between a cry and a sound of disgust slipped out of her.

The soldiers moved away then, nothing escalating from them, but it was the sight of Murtagh standing tall and refusing to wipe his face in front of them that finally broke Claire.

There had been no reason for it; the man had spit on Murtagh simply because he could. Because he knew Murtagh wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

And to watch helplessly while these men degraded Murtagh left her with an emblazoned fury building in her chest. They weren’t better than him. And she knew if it wasn’t for Fergus right beside her just then, she would’ve been tempted to do something about it herself.

But she wouldn’t risk her boy. And Murtagh wouldn’t want that either.

Fergus himself was seething at her side and she had to tug him away and turn him so she could look him in the eye.

“I will slit their throats,” he said with such conviction that she was stunned into silence for several beats.

“Look, I’m angry too,” she assured him. “But Murtagh is alright‒”

“They had no right to‒” “I know. I agree with you.”

“They should still pay for what they did.”

She drew in a deep breath and fished out the coins from her skirt pocket. “Let this be your revenge, hmm?”

Fergus seethed in front of her, sorting through his thoughts. “I wish I had waited to rob them until now,” he said finally. “I would have taken much more from them. Bastards.”

With that, she realized they’d reached a resolution, and with a heavy sigh, she placed one hand gently on the back of his neck to tug his head forward into the cradle of her chest. He went willingly, his slight arms snaking around her waist to hold tight. “It’d be much harder to look for Jamie and Faith if we’re on the run from the Redcoats,” she said softly, hoping this idea above all else might take root with Fergus. He was so god damn cavalier sometimes, he had no idea how often he’d scared the living daylights out of her by doing something careless and risky.

Fergus sighed heavily, still vibrating with frustration. “I know, Milady.”

They waited for Murtagh to find them, having come to some unspoken understanding not to bring up what happened with the soldiers or admit that they had witnessed it. When Murtagh did join them, he was terse and itching to move on from Kingussie as swiftly as could be arranged, which Claire didn’t begrudge him for.

Murtagh’s horse had been giving a new horseshoe and Claire had enlisted Fergus’s help in gathering a few more necessities to augment their dwindling supply. But there was usually another reason they spent time in each village before they could move on and Claire hesitantly pointed that out.

“Dinna need to ask around. I already learnt all we need to know.”

“Someone here saw Jamie and Faith?” she asked, feeling a little breathless. Fergus perked up at this.

“No’ exactly. But the blacksmith had a lot tae say about a certain devilish black beast he had the misfortune o’ re-shoeing a few weeks ago.”

“Donas!” Fergus said brightly.

“Aye.” He smiled slightly as he grabbed Fergus’s shoulder and gave him a playful shake. “So we’re on th’ right path, aye? Dinna fash, laddie.”

“Let’s not linger about then,” Claire said decidedly.

She could tell there was something else going on with Murtagh, but chalked it up to the encounter with the Redcoats.

They’d ridden for as long as they could after leaving Kingussie before stopping for the night. Their evening passed in a similar fashion as it did every other night, with the one exception that Murtagh had found a moment when Fergus was out of earshot to ask Claire to wait up after the boy fell asleep.

Once he had, Murtagh jumped into his news without preamble.

“Black Jack Randall is dead.”

Her stomach dropped.

“What?” Her gaze flew to the outline of Fergus’s slumbering form under his blanket. He didn’t stir.

Of course she knew that bit of information. She hadn’t forgotten Frank’s discovery that Randall seemed to have died away from the battlefield, within a few days of it. The thought that he’d gotten to Jamie and Faith had haunted her, but she knew by the time she had traveled back here ‒ by the time she had learned the news even ‒ it would have been too late to do anything about it.

“How‒”

“Redcoats,” Murtagh muttered. “That’s why they stopped me.”

“I knew he was dead,” Claire admitted. “But the soldiers told you that?”

“Aye and there’s a bit more. They found his body at a tavern just outside Carrbridge.”

Carrbridge. They had gone through there as well, spoken with the owner of the tavern who confirmed that a carriage had passed through there. Said nothing of a dead body, though. Murtagh said as much and Claire shrugged.

“Suppose that might be bad for business. What else did you learn about this?”

“No’ much, but they are looking for whoever killed him. That’s why they stopped me to ask about my whereabouts, where I was from.” He absently tossed a leaf into the fire and watched it burn up. “The good news is they dinna seem to have connected it tae Jamie.”

Neither of them had said it, but both of them knew. It had to be Jamie.

“Well, I guess that’s something,” Claire agreed. “Did they‒ I don’t suppose it would matter to the soldiers but… no one else was hurt?”

Murtagh’s gaze locked onto hers and he smiled sympathetically. “Didna say. But we do know they came through Kingussie afterwards. Blacksmith confirmed as much.”

A cold feeling had crept in and Claire hated to put it into words. “He said he saw the horse. He didn’t say anything about Jamie or Faith, did he?”

“He did say there was a rather large man who helped him wi’ Donas. I didna press for details, but I’m sure that was Jamie.”

That she could believe… but what of Faith?

“He wouldna have kept going if Faith was lost,” Murtagh said bluntly. “What reason would he have?”

“Well, Mary was still with him. I imagine he wouldn’t just abandon her to the wilds of Scotland to fend for herself, she being an Englishwoman after all.”

Murtagh grunted softly at that. “Ye’re tired, a nighean,” he said gruffly, in a way that Claire knew to mean that he cared. “Get some sleep.”

She smiled half-heartedly at that ‒ and did stretch out on her spot near the fire for the night. But sleep evaded her, as it so often had on this journey.

Even if Faith survived… had she been hurt? Had Jamie? And had she been scared, in whatever events unfolded when they encountered Black Jack Randall?

Claire had told herself so many times that they must’ve slipped away from the British ‒ and thus Randall ‒ as her way of coping with the unknown. But now… to know that he had found them… sought them out, even…

Until they found them and she could see for herself that they were alright, she wouldn’t have a moment of peace.

One day, a storm caught them unawares. Their last touchpoint to civilization was a day’s ride behind them, and they’d started their travel early that morning, when the clouds were only an unassuming, white canopy above them.

But then the sky darkened and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, and by the time they were scrambling towards the trees, they’d already been caught in the torrential downpour of rain.

Fergus argued for the cause to keep going, even through the storm, but Claire was firm in stating the risks that that would pose, such as hypothermia and pneumonia. Murtagh was more concerned about the risk of mudslides with the horses, but the two of them were at least united in the cause to wait out the storm.

That was how they found themselves wedged tightly under a small shelter they’d constructed, huddled in a line in front of a small fire at the edge of the shelter.

Yet another delay in their journey.

She glanced down at Fergus and saw his face drawn tight with concern. Slipping an arm around his shoulders, she tugged him even closer to her. “You know, in my time… there are horseless carriages called automobiles. What I wouldn’t give to have one of those right now…”

Fergus’s brows furrowed as he considered this. “How do they move without a horse?”

“They’re motorized. They have something called an engine that makes them run. And they can go even faster than a horse.”

She passed the time describing everything she could of a modern car to Fergus, and then moved on to tanks, trains, bicycles, and aeroplanes. Much like Jamie, the concept of flying through the sky fascinated Fergus.

And once she’d run out of modes of transportation to describe, she fell quiet and let Fergus (and Murtagh, she assumed) ponder these oddities of the future.

“It sounds so grand, Milady,” he said at length, leaning his head back against her shoulder. The rain lessened some, but was still steadily coming down.

“Hmm,” she murmured softly. “Maybe some things in comparison to this time might seem that way…”

But she’d seen the ugliness of the World War in her time, and she’d found beauty in this time, considered to be crude and uncivilized in comparison.

“Do you miss it at all?”

“No,” she said easily. “Although… the hot baths, yes. Especially now.”

Fergus pulled a face at that. “You can take hot baths in this time, Milady…” he said slowly, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing at him explaining that to her.

“Yes, I know, but it’s not nearly as much work in my time. Just turn on the faucet and it’s already hot.”

“... faucet? And how is it already hot?”

“Before ye begin tae explain that one, I think my heid’s already done in wi’ everything else ye’ve given me to consider,” Murtagh interjected suddenly.

“We can leave indoor plumbing for another day,” Claire agreed with a laugh.

They had reached a long stretch of wild country with little in the way of civilization. A land they had traversed before, twice during the rising. And along with their trek through the remote Highlands wilderness was an impending sense of dread. What if they missed a checkpoint or overshot Jamie’s path? Could somewhere within this deserted expanse of land be where he would choose to hide out from the British?

They were steering towards the village of Kenmore, Murtagh having decided that was the most likely stop on the journey. And since he’d been right about Jamie’s instinct to flee to the north two years ago, Claire was inclined to trust his judgement on this. Especially since he knew the landscape of this place much better than she did.

The nights had become the only moments on this journey when Claire and Murtagh could speak without Fergus being awake and present for the conversation.

Not every night. But enough that it had become something of a routine more often than not.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Claire began one night when the howl of the wind coming down from the mountain kept her from sleep. “That we’ve found ourselves at this again… searching for weeks but never quite finding him.”

Murtagh grunted in acknowledgement, a cheerless smile in place. “Och, aye. Canna forget that silly tune you sang during that time even if I tried.”

“What? The one you taught me?”

“Nay, lass,” He fired back indignantly. “The Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.”

She laughed as the memory resurfaced. “I sang that to you once.”

“Aye,” he said sourly, “And it stuck.”

“Hmm, my apologies for all you’ve apparently suffered as a result. I happen to like that one.”

“Weel, it never would ha’ worked for our purposes,” he said as one last hit against her song.

The wind whipped through their camp again and Claire pulled her thick shawl tighter about her. With the wind, the mood shifted, bringing them back to their reality. They were hungry, tired, cold, on what seemed like an endless journey. Their small moment of joy dissipated, as if carried away on the harsh wind itself.

“What if we never find him?” Claire uttered the words just above a whisper. “He has no idea we’re looking for him.”

She had no doubt that if Jamie Fraser wanted to disappear into the night without a trace, he could do it. And what would stop him?

The difference between this time and before was that Jamie had been looking for a way to return to her. Now, he believed her gone.

“Found him once before,” Murtagh reminded her.

“Yes. Captured. I’m less worried about that this time, though.”

“Then what?”

Claire shrugged, trying to appear more unaffected by her fears. “He has Faith with him. He thinks I’m gone. He knows the Redcoats will either kill him or imprison him if they find him… so he’d make sure they couldn’t be found, right? By anyone.”

Murtagh made that Scottish sound at the back of his throat and didn’t say anything else.

“And Fergus…” She drew in a shaky breath. “Well, I just worry. He loves Jamie so much… and I don’t know‒” She thought of that day in Kingussie, how he’d said Jamie would never doubt him. “If it’s just me that Fergus has… what if that’s not… enough?”

“Claire.” Murtagh said her name in such a way that it felt as though he was gently chiding her. “The lad loves ye.”

Her throat clogged with emotion and she wiped gingerly at the silent tears that spilled down her cheeks.

Murtagh sighed heavily. “Ye didna see him. After Culloden. When I came back wi’ the news that Jamie would stay to fight… there was still a hope, ken? That Jamie could survive the battle. We waited for news o’ him for days and days. But ye and Faith were gone for good ‒ that’s what we kent at the time. For two weeks, Fergus grieved ye. Ye’re his family too. He doesna just want Jamie back… he needs ye both, ken.”

She nodded solemnly, still too choked up to speak as fresh tears clouded her eyes. He did something then he hadn’t yet in any of their late-night conversations; she watched as he stood and made his way over to her side of the fire, plopping down next to her. His arm went about her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze.

“S’alright, a nighean.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, feeling more emotions in that moment than she could put into words, but taking comfort in Murtagh’s support and steadfast loyalty while everything else in her life felt shaky at best.

“I’m glad you’re here, searching with us.”

“Aye. I’m glad ye came back,” he said with tenderness in his voice. “And we’ll find Jamie and wee Faith. Dinna fash yerself.”

They were just departing from Sterling when the choice had to be made. Before them laid two potential paths with no indication of which one the carriage had traveled.

Should they go west towards Glasgow? Or East along the river towards Edinburgh?

Jamie’s end goal was still hazy to them, but they were fairly sure by now that he wouldn’t proceed much farther south than either of those cities.

“The lowlands were largely on the side of the British, so either place is risky,” Claire pointed out.

“Aye,” Murtagh sneered, none too pleased to have left the Highlands either way. “But Glasgow wasna a point of conflict during the rising. Edinburgh is likely still crawling with Redcoats since they recaptured it months ago.”

Claire considered this, wondering what Jamie would choose. What would be safer for Faith. “So Glasgow?”

“Glasgow,” Murtagh agreed.

“And how fast can they go, again?” Fergus’s curiosity had circled back around to the topic of cars, and Claire indulged him, having little else to pass the time while they traveled.

“There were some cars that could travel 80 miles per hour.”

“Eighty?” She knew he couldn’t really grasp it, having never traveled that fast before, but the number was very high. Much faster than they could manage on horseback.

“Oh, yes. Dangerously fast.” She couldn’t explain what prompted her next words, perhaps born out of her desire to protect those she could while struggling with the separation from Jamie and Faith. “They can be terribly dangerous. That’s how my parents were killed when I was young. A car accident.”

Fergus was quiet for a moment and she wished he wasn’t seated behind her so she could see his face.

“I did not know that, Milady,” he said softly, with an undercurrent of compassionate understanding she didn’t expect most eleven-year-olds possessed. His arms gave her waist a gentle squeeze and she patted his hands where they rested overlapping on her stomach.

“Didn’t seem relevant exactly when I was giving everyone the truth of the stones and where I’d come from. But yes, I should’ve told you. I lost them when I was five. After that, I went to stay with Uncle Lamb.”

She caught the slight chuckle from Fergus. Yes, those stories he had heard, some even before the truth of her origins, though those were always carefully constructed. He’d heard a few more on this journey and always delighted in them.

“I didn’t realize you were a girl then. With Uncle Lamb,” Fergus admitted and then, after some consideration, added, “I can’t imagine you as a child, Milady.”

“What, this whole time you thought I was an adult in all my stories with Uncle Lamb?”

“Yes,” he admitted with a laugh.

“I guess that makes sense. I always had trouble picturing my parents as younger than I would’ve known them. My Uncle Lamb too, for that matter.”

Their conversation lapsed in a comfortable sort of way. There was an intimacy in their shared experience and though Murtagh was only a few feet ahead of them, he felt miles away from their small bubble. And what Murtagh shared about Fergus’s grief was never very far from her mind.

“I used to play a game when I was little. After my parents died and I went to live with my uncle. I would pretend that they were out there in the world somewhere, still alive, and they would come get me eventually. It felt easier sometimes, if I could just pretend that I was waiting on them.”

“I used to play a game,” Fergus began quietly and Claire strained to listen, “that I had ended up at Maison Elise by mistake and my parents were looking for me all that time. I would imagine what it would be like to have them show up and take me away, to a home.”

“What was it like? What did you imagine?”

“It was one of those big houses that I would pass on my walks through Le Marais. Of course I’d never been inside a house that grand until Milord brought me to Monsieur Jared’s house. That house was more beautiful than any of my imaginings.”

She felt his head come to rest against her back again. “Of course, by then I did not need to imagine such things anymore.”

Her heart leapt to her throat and she gave another reassuring squeeze of his hands within her own.

They’d lost the trail.

By now, they’d learned to not give up if they came up empty at the first and second stops, but by their sixth time coming up empty, the doubt began to set in.

“Do we double back?” Claire asked. “Head for Edinburgh?”

In some part of her brain, the question rolled around that maybe this had been Jamie’s plan all along. For weeks, she’d feared reaching a point where any trace of them simply vanished.

Murtagh seemed to catch that look of despair in her eyes. “We head back to our last confirmed sighting. Go from there.”

Back to Sterling. From his spot behind Murtagh, Claire watched as Fergus’s face fell at the realization of the time they’d wasted since choosing Glasgow.

Fergus’s bedding was angled in such a way that when he curled up for the night, his head rested close to Claire’s.

“You’re quiet tonight,” she said softly to him, propping her head up on one hand. She studied his young face, glowing orange from the light of their campfire. “Are you feeling alright? You’re not sick, are you?”

“Oui, Milady, I am just tired.” He said all of this half-heartedly and without taking his gaze from the fire.

She reached out and brushed a hand over his messy curls. His eyes slid shut and he sighed. She thought of all he’d gone through in the last month and a half, from war to loss and disappearances of loved ones, to having one returned to him unexpectedly. And again she thought of his grief ‒ it struck a chord deep within her that she wasn’t soon to forget ‒ and wondered if Fergus was already bracing for some sort of loss with Jamie.

And that thought broke her heart clean in two. Because she couldn’t protect him from the hurt if anything did happen to Jamie, or if they failed to find him.

“Look at me, love.”

She waited until he had listened and tilted his head back to look at her. “I know we’ve been at this for a while. I’m tired, too. That’s alright.” She kept brushing back his curls from his forehead as she spoke. “And I know I can’t make any guarantees, but for what it’s worth, I believe we’ll find them. But no matter what, you have me. You have Murtagh. The baby, too, eventually,” she said with slight laughter in her voice. She was rewarded with a small smile out of Fergus.

“You have me, too, Milady. No matter what happens.”

She leaned across and kissed the top of his head. “It’ll be alright, love. Try and get some sleep.”

Claire laid there in the dark looking up at the stars, long after Murtagh’s snores had begun and Fergus went still and quiet. Her thoughts swirling around Jamie and Faith, the heavy fears of losing them or never finding them, the worry over Fergus and how he was faring‒

She breathed in sharply and one hand flew to her stomach, though there was nothing to be felt under its palm. But there had been a quickening in her belly ‒ the first movement she’d felt of this baby from within.

“Oh…” she breathed out. Tears sprouted in her eyes and spilled over gently. She was scared to move in that moment, like she might startle the small thing somehow. It was so quick, she wondered if she had imagined it. But no, she knew that feeling from when she’d carried Faith. “Hello, you little darling,” she whispered into the night. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

Her hand rubbed slow circles over the firm, small bump. “Thank you for letting me know you’re still there.”

Claire knew it was coming ‒ had remembered well enough from when she’d traveled through here with the Jacobite army ‒ and careened to the side in her saddle, trying to see around the bend.

Yes ‒ there it was!

“Fergus,” she called out, pulling her horse up alongside Murtagh’s. He looked at her, bewildered, and she grinned. “Look up ahead.”

Though they’d lost time in misjudging Jamie’s next steps, they had eventually caught the trail again after starting fresh from Sterling. Now, they were quite certain that Jamie and Faith were in‒

“Edinburgh!” Fergus exclaimed as the first sights of the city came into view. His gaze flew back to Claire’s. “We’re almost home, Milady!”

She felt her vision burn with tears and had to face forward to keep from crumbling as Fergus’s words landed.

This place had never been home to them, but Jamie and Faith had… and they were almost home again.

#jamie x claire #outlander #outlander fic #OL fic #faith fraser #tbbfiy #the best by far is you #my fic

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husbandograveyard · 5 years ago

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Carnival Adventures - Law x Reader

One Piece of summer challenge - week 6

part of the challenge hosted by @doctorgerth & @laws-yellow-submarine I’m attempting all 11 weeks, 11 different prompts and 11 different characters! Enjoy! Some more pure fluff because this gremlin has been suffering too much already!

Prompt: Carnival - Character: Law - Word count: 1.3k

Law was always busy. Working on plans, training, gaining medical knowledge. Testing the limits of his devil fruit abilities. Reading newspapers. Keeping up with the state of the world and the politics. Rarely ever spending time on himself, hell, the man rarely ever even slept.

It had gotten better after the two of you became a couple, but still, actual dates were nearly nonexistent and while he regularly made sure that you could spend time together, cuddle and even went to bed more often, even if he couldn’t sleep just to be in your presence, it was still not really dating. You were grateful for whatever moment you could spend with your boyfriend though, and enjoyed every second spent in his presence.

The crew also wanted to spend some more time with their captain. Eating together was nice whenever it happened, and just hanging out on deck whenever the Polar Tang made its way to the surface. Parties were an excellent opportunity to have fun and mingle too, but not a very frequent occurrence, most of the things done together were very mundane, like a little uniform-wearing family.

So when you all docked on an island in order to stock up on food, herbs, and other supplies, and Bepo noticed a Ferris wheel in the distance, plans to stay on the island just a little longer than planned so you could go to the carnival were made really fast. Law was reluctant but figured that the crew could use a moment of fun and fewer worries to let off some steam. You had been in dangerous waters most of the time lately after all, and a group activity could be nice for the morale on board.

“Okay, okay, I guess you can go to the carnival for one night.”

Cheers ensued from the crew.

“Oi, Captain grumpy pants”, you playfully elbowed your boyfriend, “you are coming along too. You could use some distracting from all the gears turning in that beautiful head of yours”. Law rolled his eyes at you. “I wasn’t planning on-” You interrupted him before he could even finish his sentence. “We don’t even have to stick close to the crew the entire evening. A date. You and me.” You put on your sweetest puppy-eyes. “Pleeeeeeeeeassseeee? Pretty pretty please? with no bread on top”.

Law couldn’t help but smile a little at your ridiculous antics. “Fine. An actual date.” You knew his sarcastic tone was just playful, he was secretly just as happy as you were to get some time off and actually have a proper date. It wasn’t exactly the most romantic setting, but honestly, It could definitely be worse.

The crew finished up all the chores for the day at an exceptional speed, working together even better to get all the supplies necessary and carry them back to the Polar Tang, before storing them away in their respective places. Turns out that a carnival was an excellent motivation and you were sure to tease Law later on with the tiniest smile he had on his face while overlooking his crew. So proud of this dumb little family of his.

The moment everything was in order, the crew got the okay from Law and made their way to the carnival. You grabbed Law’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and started walking after them, leaning on your boyfriend as you walked around the fair, taking in the sights and smells of the various food stands, attractions and other things to do.

Law seemed visibly more relaxed than he had been in days, and you decided to make good use of that, the atmosphere, and the rest of the crew to drag him into some of the attractions, if only for you to just have an excuse to hold him close.

The madhouse was your first stop, loads of tumbling and nearly tripping and falling, usually prevented by you clinging onto Law for dear life. “y/n, are you doing this on purpose or have you gotten two left feet lately?” “Shut up Law I like holding you okay?” Getting out of the attraction was a little harder, Bepo wanted to come along and got stuck somewhere near the end. Turns out, these things were not made polar bear sized.

The actual haunted house was hilarious, mostly because Law deadpan kept giving remarks on how not-scary everything was, and more importantly, how anatomically incorrect all the intestine decorations were. You left the attraction in tears, not from fear as the person at the ticket boot teased you with, but from sheer laughter.

You sampled some of the snacks, you and Law helping Bepo unstick cotton candy from his fur after he had bitten in an extremely big piece rather roughly, while Penguin, Sachi, and Ikkaku got even more snacks for you and the rest of the crew to sample.

With full stomachs, you decided that the rougher rides may not be the best thing to go on now -although a part of the crew ensured you that they could take it, after all, what could be worse than the sea?- So you split up for a bit. Most stayed behind to go on the ride anyway, some wanted to go for a Bepo-less round in the madhouse again, and you were currently leading Law towards the Ferris Wheel.

“Seriously y/n?” “Awe come on, a little romance never hurt anyone. Besides,” you looked over your shoulder, “it’s not like we can do much with the possibility of them staring at us the whole ride” you giggled at the small tag team of Bepo, Sachi and Penguin that had decided to follow you two, to see where you were going. So now all of you were standing in line for the Ferris wheel, you made them promise to at least leave you and Law to your own cabin.

There were some teasing words, but with a quick glare from Law, all in good humor, they did agree to just leave you two to the actual date part of this date. You knew not to expect too much of it, Law is not the most romantic person after all and there is only so much of a kiss one can share while feeling eyes looking in your direction most of the time, but you are more than happy to just lean on him, still holding hands, stealing pecks and nuzzling his neck as the cabin slowly gains height.

At the very top, you create just the smallest bit of distance between the two of you, just so you can observe the beautiful sights underneath you. You even spot the polar tang in the distance, giggling as you point it out to Law, who nods but barely even looks, too preoccupied with keeping his eyes on you, how happy you look, and how happy that makes him. He even glances over at the three in the next cabin over, and can’t help but realize just how lucky he is to have found this little family, and it takes him some effort to not stop and wonder if Cora-san can see, and if he’d be proud of him.

His thoughts are interrupted by a light shock going through the machine, as you start your descend, you sitting down again with him. “Did you at least enjoy yourself a little bit Captain grumpy?” you ask with a smile before pressing your lips to his cheek. “What do you even mean y/n? I always enjoy myself whenever I’m with you.” Before you can even retort with something smart as a reply, he pulls you in for a proper kiss, effectively shutting you up, and you eagerly respond, neither of you noticing that the cabin has stopped moving again for a while.

“ehm. Ma’am, Sir, if you’d... step out, please? There are other people waiting”

#one piece of summer #one piece #law #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #one piece reader insert #one piece scenario #writing challenge #weekly challenge #summer challenge #personal writing #heart pirates

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nightswithkookmin · 4 years ago

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Hi!💜 Your theories about jikook not being together during a portion of the ON era are interesting. It seemed like they were vibing together in some bits we saw in that era. Like a level of intimacy and comfort (like when they 'played hide and seek' during that sirius radio interview in the states, when jk wouldnt shut up about🎶jm jm yeah jm🎶. What are you seeing that i am not?

Oh lord! Uhmm...

I honestly don't know the answer to your question quite frankly. It's not a competition is all I can say.

We see from our experiences not from our sight? From our intuition not our vision? So, I don't know. We are all experiencing Jikook differently and perceiving them differently is what I think. Some see Jikook and see two brothers, some see them and see two best friends. We see them and see two lovers. What do we see that they don't?

The answer wouldn't matter because at the end of the day, it's all just theory and opinions and not facts. Until Jikook themselves come out as LGBTQ plus and in a relationship with eachother nothing we say here about them matters.

You don't need to see what I see to have an opinion on Jikook or feel your opinion on Jikook is valid. And I don't need to convince you of my opinion for my opinion to be valid.

I am not in this to convince anyone of my opinion about Jikook. Let me set that record straight. And all these concerns about brainwashing people... how stupid do y'all think people are? Yall keep talking as if shippers are dumb and gullible and don't have the brains to distinguish between people's opinions and actual fact. That's very presumptuous, obnoxious and condescending quite frankly. People have brains you know? Chilee.

Mine is just to support Jikook the best way I can- which is to treat them as people and individuals, not fantasies. Thus, I do not want to engage in and will not engage in any argumentative discussions about what these kinds of moments are and what they mean. At the very least we can agree to disagree.

And if it's my opinion you want, I think I have already exhausted this topic across several posts so you can kindly refer to that. Quiet frankly I would rather read your opinion about the topic at this point- Jikook in that era or the era before it. So please share your thoughts as well.

My belief about Jikook don't cancel yours, nor does yours cancel mine- if it did there would be only one ship in BTS and yet here we are amongst a sea of ships all waving the 'it is real' flag.

And these moments you mention are/were very cute and honey I love them too uWu- but are they moments you consider as indicative of two people in an intimate, sexual relationship with eachother? I gotta ask.

Or did you just miss everything else that was happening within that period from their trip to New York and back to S.K?

I think the moments you mention are really cute interactions and there is even much more cuter interactions within that period- my favorite of which would be Teleporter Jeon teleporting his ass from next to Tae all the way to his man because a certain Idol behind him was getting too close- uWu!

I rate teleporter Jeon much higher on my Jikook is real assessment tab than the moments you mention because that is right of authority and claiming right there.

But the moment you mentioned, honestly if I see two people in other ships do it too I am not gonna yell they are a couple you know? And if you wouldn't consider any other ship that did that in BTS to be real too when they do it, then why ask me to believe Jikook is real just because they do these kinds of things?

I mean Jikook is also a tradship like any other ship in BTS after all. And people are going to swoon over their skinship and interactions each time and lament when they think they are not interacting or doing much skinship. But none of that is proof Jikook is real. To me.

I think a distinction ought to be made here between Jikook the tradship and Jikook the alt-ship. To see what I see in Jikook as an alt-shipper, you would have to also be an alt-shipper or at least a tradshipper with an open mind. It's as simple as that.

Jikook in On era is just the climax to a series of tensions between them starting in November 2019 that had nothing to do with Jikook as a couple but was affecting their dynamics anyway. I said I felt it was a period of JK trying to push back against the group putting a leash on them and censoring their interactions in public etc. I said I felt Jimin wasn't there with him- on the same page I mean and I tried to talk about GCF Helenski, MMA 2019 and all that Jazz.

I kept referring to JM as very Kumbaya in nature who would put the interest of the group above his or even JK's and would often shade him for it and joke about it. But after reading his Weverse magazine interview where he talked about doing things to please people because he wants to be loved- I don't find it funny anymore.

And I kept saying I felt JK was trying to assert himself against Jimin and the group. That Jikook in this period had been trying to assert themselves against eachother and against the group and I'm glad Jimin talked about trying not to be a people pleaser as much and focusing his energy on people who love him- I think I need to take his advice. I'm glad to see him show this level of growth and maturity but I don't trust him. Lol. He isn't exactly known to be one to keep the promises he makes to himself- if what the members say about him is anything to go by. Sigh. But I support this agenda. Self love is everything. You go Park Jimin!

Let's just hope he doesn't relapse because if he do he and Kook are gonna have a problem. In my opinion.

People often see JM as very nurturing of JK but JK pushes JM to be a better person too. That's one way he nurtures Jimin. And I don't have proof of this, but I believe in my heart of hearts based on everything I've seen and said so far about them, that Jikook make each other better individuals. They are perfect for eachother and I support them.

Just as JK, I think, pushes JM to be emotionally assertive, JM pushes JK to be emotionally vulnerable and less possessive- it seems of late.

If you missed all of that happening in the background then certainly On era would fly over your head too. So you can start there.

You can start reflecting on Jikook's moments as individuals who don't exist to feed ships, to try and understand the motivations behind their interactions as humans because that's what I do as an alt-shipper. And when I do and draw conclusions about them, those conclusions are not facts or meant to be. They are just my opinion. I could very much be wrong about them. But it is still my opinion. What's your opinion of them? Whatever it is, it's valid too.

Then there is the whole BigHit releasing content out of order thingy and so you would have to look at all of that and try and reconstruct those too- which is something I do a lot. It is why I haven't commented much on Jikook post JM's birthday. I simply haven't seen enough to theorize on the state of their relationship in this era. When I do I will post a comprehensive theory and analysis and ruffle some feathers while at it. Lol.

Ever wondered why in one moment JM seems to be leaning forward in their relationship, 'acting clingy," chasing JK and in the next JK is the one doing all clingy and the chasing? Their push and pull dynamics is it? Ever wondered why they have that going on with them? Or to you, that just happens?

It's not rhetorical I would like to know. Lol.

I think this trad vs Alt ship wars needs to stop. Let's stay out of eachother's business. It's not a competition. It's really not that deep. We can have our own biases but we can't battle it out with pens and keyboards because none of us know the truth about Jikook. Saying Jikook is not together is a theory just as much as saying Jikook are together. None is factual at all.

And if you believe they are together because believing they are human and can have issues will disrupt your fantasy of them then yikes- miss me with that. Tradship alert. Alexa play Jimin's sirens. Wwwuawwwuawwua. Lol.

And I get that to some people, it's their fantasies on the line, their egos on the line and they would want to protect these interests- but I'm not in the validation business. My ego is not on the line, my fantasies is not on the line. Jikook kills me as much as they heal me and guess what- I like it. Stock Holmes is real people. Lol.

Just do you. No one is right when it comes to Jikook. That's just the gist of it.

You talk about those moments as intimate... True. But intimacy to me is when Jimin, in a euphoric state turns instinctively to hug JK but stops himself as he did in the recent Grammy reaction video or even throughout the recent Runs- when he shot the hoop and won and turned around in excitement towards Kook but then didn't know what to do with himself. He is a physically affectionate person and he is used to a certain level of intimacy between him and Kook and that shows.

Intimacy is when JM reaches to kiss the top of JK's head but stops himself because he is in the middle of filming a run episode. Intimacy is JK reaching to touch Jimin in excitement, in Soop when they were playing puzzle or whatever, but stops himself because there are cameras filming.

You can't hide this kind of intimacy nor can you fake it. Your instincts will always give you away.

It's like that moment in the elevator from Bangtan Bomb when the doors were closing and Jimin was left behind and when JK noticed Jimin was not in there with them he panicked and yelled for them to stop the door from closing or something but it was too late. Probably pouted and glared at whoever didn't hold the door open for Jimin throughout that right- poor Kookie. Lmho.

Or when Jimin yelled at JK when JK was contemplating whether or not to join Jimin's team in Bon V or Run I don't remember which lol. He seemed like he had reached his limits there- now if you would excuse me, I have tears to shed.

When they exhibit these involuntary reactions in certain moments I think it speaks more of how close they really are and the level of intimacy between them not when they play hide and seek in a middle of an interview- that just shows they are goofy. It's nothing TaeJin haven't done or wouldn't do. Jin and Tae do same too. I mean they tried to kiss or whatever they were trying to do during the dynamite MV reaction VLive. I wouldn't say that is proof Taejin are dating eachother too.

But when one of them can't exercise a right of authority over the other like they often do when they are together together, or when they are not claiming eachother, minding their boundaries like they usually do most times, reassuring eachother when one of them clearly is seeking reassurance and validation or closeness or when the others around them suddenly stop respecting the right of authority either one of them has over the other- then that is a sign because all of these and a lot more I can't even get into is what makes them a couple. In my point of view and opinion.

Jikook are friends and lovers. They were friends before lovers. They were interacting and goofing around and trying to kiss and what not too when they were just friends. They were doing all of that before they starting getting into eachother- that's not a metaphor.

Unless, you mean to tell me they started dating from day dot? In which case I have no words. Skinship is not a sign Jikook is real.

Jikook is real, they try to play off most of their interactions as fanservice but they are real. And for Jimin, because 'the boy in love with the Maknae' is also a key aspect of his persona and a facade he hides behind to love JK, it's easy for him to act it up for the cameras.

Most people see this persona of Jimin too and I think it is why they dismiss his feelings for JK as bro love or even claim Jikook is fanservice. That what Jimin feels for JK is fanservice and they could be right but I just don't believe or share that view simply because I see what they see and more. You may not see that aspect of Jimin but that doesn't mean others don't. Perspective is everything.

It's why I said if you look at JM's way of expressing himself as the sole indicator that Jikook is real and prefer his way of expressing himself over that of Kookie that you've been played.

It takes two to tango. JK is part of that dynamic and he is also expressing his feelings for JM too- in a different less loud way. Jikook is not one sided. Jimin cannot be the only one carrying their relationship on his back. His feelings for Kook is not unrequited. Jimin just over expresses himself sometimes. Jk doesn't express himself enough but when he does it is much more louder and intense than Jimin- I'd say in my opinion but fuck it. I'm tired.

That kind of intimacy between Jikook is something I would consider with high regard in deciding whether or not two people are dating and not just their skinship or interactions. But to each his own.

BTS in general are a very intimate group. You can expect a certain level of closeness and familiarity between them- all of them including Jikook. But that in no way indicate they are dating eachother. Please, your honor. Thank you. Lol.

May be you should go back and reevaluate the timeline with the new content we've got and the new information and try not to latch on to the good stuff but critically examine all the questionable moments that happened within that time frame because dismissing all those clues is how Tae Kook is real and Yoonmin is real and VMin is real- ok not VMin, Tae wants him some piece of Jibooty but let's not talk about that. Lol.

If Tae kook is real it's unrequited, if VMin is real it's unrequited. If Jikook is real it's mutual and I can't be mad at that- it feels random but those who sent those asks would understand. Lol.

Keep supporting Jikook. Jikook is real. By real I mean HUMAN. Deuces.

Signed,

GOLDY

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lu-undy · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 107 - SBT

Here it is!

"Meow…"

"Non, mon garçon." Lucien turned his head. "Glovy, those tomatoes are not ready yet, do not bite them."

[No, my boy.]

"Meow!"

"Glovy..." Mundy added from a few metres away, in a fatherly tone. He was lying on the grass with a hat on his face and Soot lying on his chest and stomach, napping.

"Meow…!"

"Glovy, you don't want me to count to three now…" Mundy said and the kitten obeyed on the spot.

"He listens to you better than he does me." Lucien said, raising his head from the tomato plants. He had spent the afternoon there, helping Caroline to take care of the plants. He had trimmed the trees and was now on his knees, removing the weeds between the tomatoes.

The kittens were roaming around, discovering fresh grass and a garden. Most of them played with the plants innocently. Only Glovy had wanted to taste them with his little fangs.

"Kitties? Who wants some treats?"

"Mum, you gave them some after lunch already…!" Mundy removed his hat off of his face and looked up at his mother.

"It's four in the afternoon! Someone's gotta feed the little ones so that they grow strong, eh, Glovy?"

"Meow! Meow! Meow!" The kittens came jumping around Caroline's feet. She sat on a chair and bent down to deal the treats to the eager little balls of fluff.

Mundy was laying on the grass, with Soot on his chest, while Perle was inside, with Mike.

"Easy on the food, Glovy."

Glovy stopped chewing sharp before resuming. He swallowed his treat and his ears pulled back. Caroline winked at the kitten and offered him an additional treat, as she put a finger on her lips.

"Mum… Don't try and feed him behind my back."

"How did you know?"

"Cause you used to do the same with me." Mundy said as he opened his eyes and stood up. "Right, I need to go now, Mum. I'll say bye to Dad on my way."

"You need to go?" Lucien raised surprised eyebrows and turned to his lover who was approaching him.

"Yeah, but don't worry, we'll spend the evenin' together. There's somethin' I need to do first. And by the way…" Mundy crouched to whisper in Lucien's ear. "Dress up nice and come at 7pm at the crossroad between the High Street and King James Avenue."

Lucien's cheeks went pink.

"Fine, I will."

"Be there on time and put on the nicest clothes you have. We'll spend the evenin' just you and me." Mundy turned to his mother who was playing with the kittens. "Mum, you'll watch over the cats tonight, right?"

"Yeah, we will, don't worry…!" Caroline answered.

"Right, I'd better go then, I got stuff to prepare." Mundy winked at Lucien and the Frenchman felt like the most special man on Earth. "See you later, Lu'."

"See you, Mundy."

Mundy went away and Lucien stayed with Caroline in her garden. The kittens seemed to love playing there. Soot went to Lucien and sat next to him while the Frenchman went on cleaning the plants area.

And soon, the time came for Lucien to go and get ready himself.

"Don't worry, Lucien, I'll keep an eye on them." Caroline came to the living-room.

"Yeah, you go and find Micky. We'll take care of the kids." Mike answered from the sofa, brushing Perle, lying like a queen on his stomach and lap.

Lucien went to Mike and sat down next to him for a moment.

"Are you sure about this? I would understand if you changed your mind. Looking after all these little ones is quite tiring."

"What are you on about? They're lovely!" Caroline said. "Besides, playin' in the garden got them all tired and they're sleeping now."

"Yeah, and look at this one. She likes watchin' the television with the old man, eh?" Mike looked at Perle on his lap.

"I think what she likes the most is the attention, the scratches and you feeding her treats…"

"Maybe, but she likes me too! Eh, baby, tell yer dad you like your old Mike, yeah?"

"Meow!" Perle answered.

"See? She does!"

Lucien got closer to the sofa.

"Thank you very much, Mike, I really appreciate your efforts."

Mike moved his eyes from the television screen to Lucien's light blue eyes.

"Well, thank you too. Carrie was right."

"I heard that!" A feminine voice said from the kitchen and Mike rolled his eyes with a smile.

"I mean," Mike went on. "Micky really found what he was lookin' for with you."

"I try my best."

"Ya don't need to, son. Now you guys go and have yer fun. And whatever you do, you watch out for each other, yeah? And you be good to my Micky, eh?"

"I dream of nothing else."

"Did he tell ya what's the plan?"

"Mike…! It's their evening, not yours, get yer nose out of their business right now!" Caroline answered from the kitchen, surrounded by the mewling kittens.

"Non, I do not know." Lucien answered, whispering.

"Lucien!" She added and both Mike and Lucien chuckled.

"Right, you go before she gets out the kitchen and tells us off, yeah?"

"I shall, thank you again for looking after the babies."

"Meow?" Perle raised her head and her paw to her Papa. Lucien took it and left a kiss on her white fluff.

"I shall see you tomorrow."

"You have a good evenin', Lu'!"

"Merci, Caroline, see you tomorrow!"

And Lucien left the house. Mundy had told him to go back home and get ready for an evening just with him. What for? Lucien didn't know, but if Mundy thought he could surprise Lucien, he had another thing coming!

Lucien had hesitated quite a bit before deciding, but he shall do it. He headed straight for the bedroom when he arrived, he lost no time stripping naked and started the act. He had dressed as a woman before, oui, and had put on the whole elegant show. This time, it shall be different. This time, he shall play another card.

He had talked to Richard about it and the taylor agreed to help, not without having a second of surprise however. It was a request for a dress, but not any odd one.

"Cut?"

"Close to the skin, but comfortable and not compromising."

"Length?"

"Down to half of the thighs."

"Colour?"

"Bright red."

"Dinner or social event?"

"Special occasion, something intimate."

Richard blushed slightly and his moustache only seemed more white in contrast with his pinkish skin. He stopped taking notes for an instant to clear his throat, before going on.

"Fabric?"

"Enticing to the eye and the touch."

"Any special requirements?"

"The cleavage." Richard raised an eyebrow. "Generous." Lucien added.

The Frenchman had his eyes closed on the tailor's armchair, imagining the dress as he described it. The smoke of his cigarette wreathed and curled, rising in the air.

"Anything to go with it?"

"Do you happen to make lingerie?"

Richard adjusted the glasses on his nose.

"I do."

"Can you do it for men?"

"I thought you had resigned." Richard answered.

"What? Non, I am still a teacher, but what does it have to do with-?"

"No..." Richard took his eyes off of his notebook. "I thought you had resigned from your military duties."

"Of course, I have. I am not a spy anymore…!"

"Then, why the disguise?" Richard asked.

"It is no disguise."

The tailor frowned.

"I will not act a part that isn't myself." Lucien made himself clearer. "If my demand cannot be met, I understand perfectly, Richard. But if I am asking you of all people, it is because I know the quality of your work, and I wouldn't want anyone else for this. I wouldn't be able to ask anyone else."

Richard raised his eyes to Lucien.

"I shall do it. After your last request, I thought that it was for someone else…"

"Non, of course not." Lucien said. "It is for me."

"I am relieved." Richard nodded.

"What were you imagining?" Lucien asked.

"Well… If you had come back to your military duties, then surely you wouldn't work for France, and as such, I should have to treat you with distrust, at least. And if, like last time, you asked me to use your measurements to fit the dress, then surely, with M…?"

"Oh, you thought my relationship with M ended and I was now seeing a woman?"

Richard nodded.

"What else could I have understood?"

"And why would I train my walking with high heels here?" Lucien answered.

"Ah, yes, that I do not know…"

"I merely want to surprise Mundy." Lucien answered. "You should have seen his face last time when he finally understood that the woman flirting with him was me in fact." Lucien chuckled, thinking about it again. "But again, if you do not want to do it for any reason, I shall by no means force you."

"Non, please." Richard shook his head. "I must admit that your orders always push the limits of my knowledge and my craft. My apologies for judging, and badly so. I should take this as an opportunity to hone my skills and teach my sons with me." Richard nodded to himself. "You know, uhm…" He looked left and right before going on. "One of my sons, Paul, the eldest…"

"What about him?" Lucien asked.

"He… I think you and M gave him the courage that he needed." Richard blushed and Lucien didn't understand where he was going. "He… He confessed to his mother and I that he… He prefers gentlemen."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped in surprise.

"Now, we did have our doubts but he just confirmed it and… We are actually delighted that he worked up the courage to tell us."

The Frenchman smiled.

"He is fortunate enough to have a father who describes himself as 'delighted' about it." Lucien said.

"Indeed. I imagine others are not so fortunate."

"Far from it."

Richard shook his head.

"Anyway, now, to come back to the dress…"

And Lucien described the vision he had, something that was enticing, revealing and inviting. The only thing the Frenchman wished he could buy was a few years of his life back. Ah, he wished he was closer to Mundy's age…

In any case, he put on the lingerie, the stockings, the dress, and the assorted red high-heeled stilettos. Lucien then went to the bathroom and put on his make-up. Eyeliner, mascara and this time, a hint of red lipstick. He put on golden earrings, a long and thin golden necklace and looked at himself in the mirror.

His hair.

What should he do with it? Ponytail? Bun? Braid?

Non, non, non. He needed something bold, something to go with the glamourous show he had been planning.

"Fine then…" He grabbed his hair dryer and a brush, and got to work.

-- Later --

"Gosh, he should be here…" Mundy looked at his watch and his eyebrows jumped. "Ah, yeah…"

He had worn Lucien's watch for the night, the one he had broken on the day he had died. It was permanently 4.26pm.

He smiled.

Looking at that broken watch didn't pinch his heart anymore, and especially not today. It made him smile. That broken watch was an I love you in itself, it was something that Lucien had left before giving away one year of his remaining life. And for what? For the mad hope that somehow he would end up with Mundy. Somehow…

"C'mon…" Mundy wanted to wipe his sweaty hands on his trousers but refrained from doing so. "Mh." He grumbled and waited.

He had told Lucien to be there, at that crossroad, and on time. It wasn't too far from the house. But the Aussie started to be nervous. He thought back about what his mother and father had told him and kept on repeating to himself to breathe.

Take a deep breath, take a deep breath, take a deep-

"Hey there, 'scuse me," Mundy turned to the feminine voice and the pat on the shoulder. "D'you know where I could find a wild man in a van?"

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. In the night street, the Aussie couldn't see the woman clearly, but gosh, the curves, the shapes…! Mundy's eyes snapped back to her eyes, not without lingering at the wide cleavage and the golden necklace shimmering around her neck, diving down her shy chest.

"Uh, what?"

"Mundy, it is me." Lucien chuckled. "How many times can I fool you?"

"What?! How the fuck?! Hold on…" Mundy put his hands on Lucien's shoulders and pulled him under a lamp post.

"Holy dooley…! What have you… Is it really you? I mean…"

"And look at you, mon amour. What is this suit? I have never seen it."

Mundy looked down at himself.

"Well, you aren't the only one who can go to Richard and ask for somethin' special, eh? Like it?"

Lucien took a keen look. The cut was well adjusted, close to Mundy's body. It made him look even taller. The Frenchman let his fingers touch the fabric.

"Soft, yet one can feel little asperities. Mixed fabrics, satin and cotton of India."

"Gosh, you sound like Richard." Mundy chuckled. "Like the colour?"

"Dark, Burgundy red. One of my favourites." Lucien said.

"Guessed so."

"How?"

"The first time I met you, as a spook, you were dressed in dark red, the suit, the tie, the balala-thingy. Thought I might wear it this time, give it a try. Besides, Richard went about givin' me a lecture about how it would suit me cause of my skin tone or somethin'..."

"Ooh, paid attention we have, huh?" Lucien chuckled.

"Hard to ignore the tailor when he gets emotional, eh?" Mundy grinned. "But I uh… I mean I look at you and uh… Is that really you?"

"Look into my eyes." Lucien raised his eyes to Mundy and the Aussie raised a shy hand to his cheek, cupping it gently, while the other rested on Lucien's hip.

"Gosh, you're… You're even more than last time."

"More what?" Lucien asked with a smile that made Mundy's heart flutter.

Mundy was devouring him with his eyes. The red, short dress, the black tights, the red high-heels and gosh the face… The face! The eyeliner, the dark yet subtle shadow on his eyelids. Mascara? Was that mascara? His eyelashes didn't need it, they naturally were long and thin, and gently flapped like the wings of a butterfly.

"Is that… lipstick…?" Mundy squinted on Lucien's lips.

Lucien gently nodded.

"You didn't have that last time."

Lucien shook his head and lowered it.

"Hey…" Mundy put an index finger under Lucien's chin and raised it. "You're beautiful, baby doll." He smiled and Lucien blushed. "And what's with the hair…? Curly and fluffed up? That's… bold. Reminds me of a certain spook I met back in the days, eh."

"Is it too much?" Lucien asked, his eyes still evading Mundy's as the pink on his cheek deepened.

"Nah. It's… It's amazin'."

Lucien finally raised shy eyes to his lover.

"Really?" He whispered.

"Yeah, really. And look at you… Dress, purse and everythin'... A gorgeous doll you are."

"Yours, please?"

"Course, I'd never imagine that-"

"Hey!" A voice cut them. A group of men were passing by. "The doll busy for tonight?"

"Yeah, come with us, baby…!" Another man from the group added.

They were clearly past tipsy. Mundy frowned.

"We're busy." He simply growled.

"C'mon mate!"

"Sharin' is carin'!"

"C'mere baby…!"

"Hands off!" Mundy clenched his jaw and pulled Lucien to himself. "Lay a finger on her and I'll make a necklace of yer teeth."

"Wohow," One of the men went. "Possessive bloke in a suit. We're five, you're alone, what are you gonna do?"

"Pop yer teeth," Mundy pointed at the first one. "Re-arrange yer ugly mug," He pointed at the second. "Break your leg." His finger moved again. "And you two, you'll get so scared, you'll shit yourselves and run away."

The group of men laughed.

"Well, then, come and get my teeth if ye like, mister suit and tie!"

Mundy turned to Lucien. The Frenchman's heart was pounding so hard that the dress around the cleavage was shaking. The Aussie bent down to kiss Lucien's brow. "Stay here, baby doll, I'll take just a sec."

"Mundy, you don't have to-"

"No. I said no one'd touch you and I mean it."

"Then please, go easy on them. The last thing we need is the police after us, especially me, in this attire." Lucien said.

"Yeah, now stay right here." Mundy kissed Lucien's hand and turned to the group of drunken men. "C'mere then…" Mundy opened his suit jacket. One punch flew and the first man got unconscious before his body hit the ground. "Teeth out? Now, you c'mere…" Another punch flew and the second man hit the floor limply. "And you, yer leg…!" Mundy raised his heeled boot and that's when Lucien realised that those were brand new. They weren't brown, they were black, to better go with the suit. Mundy stomped his heel down the other man's tibia as he had wrapped an arm around his neck. Even Lucien heard the bone break and the Frenchman's thighs tensed.

Non, non, non, non…! The Frenchman bit his lip and stepped on his own toe to prevent his body from showing the effect that Mundy's confidence had on him.

"Now, both of you, d'you know who we are?" Mundy addressed the two remaining drunkards. Their knees had given up, they were on the floor, eyes wide and breath sort. As the Aussie didn't receive any response, he bent down and took one of them by his collar. "I said: d'you know who we are?" He spoke slowly, his nostrils flared and his eyes flashing fiercely.

"N-no, w-we don't know! We swear! Just thought the sheila was for the takin'! We swear!"

"Then take your mate to a hospital and if you mention my sheila'n me, believe me, I'll find you." Mundy said menacingly and didn't see that under the lamp post, Lucien bit his lip. The Aussie let go of the drunk man and dusted himself off before closing his jacket again and coming back to Lucien. He offered his hand and the Frenchman gladly held it as they started walking in the street. "Sorry about that, baby."

"I… It… Ah…"

"You alright?" Mundy asked with a chuckle.

"Oui… I think? This is quite an eventful way to start the evening."

"And it's only the start, luv'. Now, can you climb on the bike with yer dress?"

"Oui."

"Then c'mere and hang on tight."

Mundy straddled the motorcycle that he had parked a bit further away and invited Lucien to hop on behind him. He started the engine and drove through the streets. Lucien wondered what the Aussie had in mind for them but soon understood when the streets became familiar.

Eventually, Mundy parked and turned to Lucien, whose dress shimmered under the golden lights of the establishment that both men knew very well.

The Queen Victoria.

"Remember this place?" Mundy asked, helping Lucien out of the motorcycle.

"Of course, I do." Lucien answered but he frowned. "Did you book a table there? I cannot go inside, for them, I am dead."

"Relax, I know. I didn't book anythin'. Just wanted to bring you here."

Both stood side by side, about a dozen or so metres away from the entrance and Mundy laced an arm around Lucien's waist.

"Brought you here cause this is where I saw you for the first time." Mundy said and Lucien smiled.

"Are you feeling nostalgic?"

"Not really. Just been thinkin' about it all, from the start till today. We've done some mad stuff, eh?"

"Quite the adventure indeed." Lucien agreed and leaned on Mundy's side. From where they were they could hardly hear anything but the muffled sound of the music playing in the restaurant.

"When I saw you in there, you woke things up in me." Mundy said. "At first, I didn't really understand. But the more I came to your shows and listened to you, the more I understood that I just wanted to hold someone, I wanted to have someone to say the words you were singin' to. And then I realised that I wanted someone to sing those words to me… As pathetic as it sounds, I was on my seat there, and I just imagined you were singin' for me."

Lucien leaned his head on Mundy's shoulder.

"I just… I didn't even want intimate stuff, I just wanted to touch someone, hold their hands, be touched by their hands… Feel like I exist and not just drag my feet from one day to the next." Mundy sighed. "You… You made me fall in love with an idea."

Lucien raised his head to Mundy and smiled sweetly.

"With your voice, I just… I felt like I was head over heels for someone who doesn't know I exist, and I didn't even know if they did too. But I felt it in my heart, the butterflies in my stomach, everythin'. I was in love, but with no one."

Lucien grabbed Mundy's arm between both of his and squeezed him gently.

"I-I don't know if that makes sense."

"Oui, it does." Lucien said. "You had the same effect on me. I think what we felt was longing. We both had love to give but no one to give it to, no one was worthy enough of the pain and the sacrifices that one does when one is in love. Because when you are in love, then you do not count. Such sacrifices of your time, your space, your energy, your money, all those do not appear as sacrifices, they are investments. You are investing in something that you are building, as opposed to yielding to something that costs you more than what you gain from it."

"Yeah… Yeah, that's the idea." Mundy nodded.

Silence fell between them, only interrupted by the occasional passer-bys and cars. Lit by the yellow neon name of the place where they met, Lucien and Mundy shimmered in red, splitting the dark blue night.

"Why did you bring me here?" Lucien asked.

"Because that's where it all started. That's where you gave a point to my life that wasn't just kill a bloke to get revenge for my parents. That…" Mundy pointed at the restaurant. "That's the place you revived me, after ten years of draggin' my feet in the desert, walkin' around under the scorchin' sun like a dried lizard. So I wanted to come back and tell you all this before…"

"Before what?" Lucien looked up at his lover.

Mundy looked away.

"We need to go." He simply answered and walked towards the motorcycle. Lucien followed him, still hand in hand with him and at a loss as to what Mundy had in mind.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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darth-schism · 4 years ago

Text

Evidence to Suggest that Luke was NOT all that he seemed in TLJ

Luke Skywalker may have isolated himself because of his guilt/depression. But I also believe he did it for practical reasons, and that his “totally given up” act, was just that, an act. Evidence for this Head-cannon/interpretive take:

1. He made a map to his location

Not only that, but it was so specific, it was literally called “The Map to Skywalker.” The only way it would have gotten a name as tailored as that is if someone else had found him before Rey, or, if he told people about it himself. In any event, to whatever varying degree, Luke wanted to be found and/or influence the galaxy around him.

One piece of the map was tossed around to all sorts of corners of the galaxy, while the rest of it was entrusted to R2D2.

2. This was a deliberate combo to serve two different purposes

- Keep Snoke distracted: The entirety of TFA was Kylo and Snoke obsessing over Luke’s location. Their preoccupation with it was evident and, instead of letting them focus on relentlessly attacking the New Republic, Luke gave them a reason to go on wild goose chases. Consider that Snoke doesn’t go ‘all in’ on trying to destroy the Resistance until after he realizes he lost the race to get to Skywalker. Which shows just how much stock he had put into that singular Jedi. What’s more, even if they had succeeded, they’d only have a useless fraction with no reference as to where in the galaxy Luke’s secret location actually was.

- Meanwhile, R2D2 would also play the role of a “given up/powered down” hero: But we see that, soon as the coast is clear, and some plot heroes arrive with the map, he assessed the situation, turned on, and sent them right to Skywalker. I think it’s safe to say that R2D2 was merely in ‘sleep mode,’ as opposed to ‘shut down.’ However, despite all this, the element of being powered down/unassuming was still crucial because...

3. Snoke made it abundantly clear that when he found Skywalker, he’d blow up the entire landmass he was found, or even theorized to be, on

Luke would never put a population of innocents at risk of complete annihilation just because someone might to recognize him at a local market. So it’s no wonder he chose a place as isolated as he did (On top of that, considering his critical stance towards the Jedi Order by 28ish ABY, it wouldn’t necessarily be a heartbreak to him if the island did end up getting destroyed, or one to anyone else really, because of how obscure/unknown it was...or so he convinced himself).

4. He was picking his battles

If Luke Skywalker wanted to be found. Then why was he so dismissive of Rey? There’s no solid evidence here (aside from the whole existence of the map scheme), but I think there’s good reason to believe that Luke’s instant stand-offish behavior is one of caution and assessment not dissimilar how how Yoda and Kenobi put up an initial façade when they were discovered in exile (but more on that later). In any event, this approach would give him the means to offer personalized help to those who ended up on his doorstep. It honestly didn’t take Luke long to go from tossing his father’s lightsaber, to offering Rey the three lessons she needed to understand the force better. Although I believe Rey’s visit to Luke was far different than what others had probably been but (again) more on that later.

5. He was able leave anytime he wanted

The very clear image of Luke’s submerged X-Wing in the ocean painted a picture of cut ties, and a “no going back” stance. However, it wasn’t the first time that starfighter had been at the bottom of a water bed, and clearly it wasn’t the last. I’m inclined to believe that this is another part of Luke’s deliberate presentation of a hero who had lost all hope. But all speculation aside, there was nothing to physically stop Luke from leaving that island whenever he wanted. There’s nothing to say that he didn’t break form/character operate to find a way to undermine Snoke further.

6. He was actively protecting others close to him

There was a reason Luke getting Grogu at the end of Season 2 of The Mandalorian caused such a stir in Disney, and caused Kennedy to go for Faverau’s throat. All “who’s idea was who’s” arguments aside. At the end of the day it created two possible outcomes for this element of the Star Wars franchise: Either Grogu died in Kylo’s attack. Or there were survivors. Since killing the money making Baby Yoda isn’t necessarily on Disney’s to do list, it’s a reasonable bet that he survives the slaughter (unless he’s returned to Din’s side before Kylo goes ballistic, in which case he avoids it all together). But even if that does happen, this theory still holds a little water). Luke lying low, and operating in secret may have been the only way he was keeping himself, the galaxies citizens, and his few remaining students from getting hit with an orbital strike.

7. He was never fully disconnected from the force.

Perhaps, somewhat disconnected, but it’s clear that Luke hasn’t cut himself off from the force as much as he, perhaps, wanted to admit. Luke is still able to effortlessly summon a weapon, keep control of the duel between himself and Rey, and gently lower his body to the ground when he loses his footing. Despite his stance on using/taking ownership of the force in TLJ, it seems as though Luke kept just enough around so that he could still fight. This theory is more optimistically minded than some of the others, but I still can’t help but think that Luke kept these reserves of power ready, because he already had to use them more than once during his supposed isolation.

8. Rey’s visit was different than the others who had come before.

“You went straight into the Dark. It offered you something you needed, and you didn’t even try to stop yourself.”

“I've seen this raw strength only once before, in Ben Solo. It didn't scare me enough then. It does now.”

Other plot heroes/adventurers may have come, gone, or even convinced Luke to help them in secret. So assuming all, or even some, of the above is true, then that means Luke wasn’t just pushing to dismiss Rey, but also disillusion her. I think this is because Rey wasn’t there to get help with a specific mission, rescue, etc, but there to have Luke become the public symbol of hope again. And we’ve already listed the reasons why this couldn’t happen. On top of that, this push was done in a way that directly conflicted with all the “none theorized” reasons Luke had isolated himself. Luke knew he couldn’t accommodate this. He sensed the darkness in Rey. He sensed her connection to Kylo. In many ways his lessons also doubled as a means to properly evaluate Rey, and confirm his suspicions. In any event, all of this brought up an element of his isolation that no one else knew. He already had the, half truth, story as to what happened to his temple well rehearsed. But it was Rey’s visit that dragged out his greatest regret, which was his near attempt to take Ben’s life, due to both the mind bending fear Snoke had manipulated into palce, and the hypocritical, and self destructive Jedi philosophies that had been drilled in to his head. This was the final straw that made him want to destroy the Jedi texts. But it was also the push he needed to find inner peace, and think of the means to make one last public appearance, without endangering anyone.

9. In no interpretation is Luke an attempt child killer

This is more of a bonus point in nature. I think so many people were caught off guard by the narrative choice Luke undertook in this part of the film, that it painted the whole ordeal in a far more unfavorable light than it actually was. For starters: Ben was no child. He was 23 years old when he fell to the darkside. Luke was saw the images of planetary destruction, and the deaths of friends and family alike at the hands of an adult. But even at that, Luke’s ligthsaber had already lowered, and his face expressing that of shame and sadness, when Ben glances over, and decides to take up his lightsaber, and make the first strike. Luke doesn’t even ignite his lightsaber in response until after Ben swings it. The influence Snoke had over Ben, and the mental attack he lured Luke into suffering, to make this moment come to pass cannot be understated.

- This also means that Luke’s isolation lasted only 7 years. Not twenty, not even 10. Just 7. Which is less than half the time both Yoda and Obi Wan imposed on themselves.

10. He was following in the footsteps of his masters

I think Luke’s response to trauma is a little unfair in some ways. Obi Wan and Yoda witnessed genocide, and imposed exile on themselves for twenty years. Now, in film, we know that Obi Wan, while playing the part of a delusional hermit, worked to protect Luke as he grew up on Tatooine, and that Yoda, playing the part of a silly swamp kook, did...something...on Dagobah (?), waited for Luke to grow up so he could train him for a few weeks at most (?).

Those are two pretty limited things, and yet they don’t catch near as much flack for “abandoning the galaxy to the Empire” as TLJ Luke does, after he also witnessed slaughter, and went into isolation for only 7 years. But, of course, we know Obi Wan did more during his time in the desert, and that Yoda did more during his time in the swamp. So why can’t Luke have also done more while on his island? Everything about the parallels here point to Luke, despite his own misgivings, applying what he learned from his master. All three Jedi isolated themselves because of their personal tragedies. All three greatly reduced their presence in the galaxy. But all three had no choice, and all three still did what they could despite their circumstances.

11. Luke may have been overcome with grief. But he hadn’t truly changed

Now, I fully admit that this is a very optimistic way of looking at things. But some of these points also have more weight to them than others. I also cannot stress enough that even though I think some of what Luke was doing was an act, I also know it was equally proportional to the very real, emotional reasons, and struggles he faced. I also definitely do NOT think Kennedy/Johnson meant for any of these possible theories to have any validity to them. But with how they are presented, they also can’t be disproven.

If Favreau doesn’t formally put the sequels in it’s own little pocket universe, then I really hope he takes the opportunity to make something like ^the above^ happen. It could easily be established in one to two episodes in a live action show. Lots of things could be done to make the sequels a more bearable set of movies to watch. And as much as I’m worried that hoping for this is simply too optimistic, at least now there is a justifiable interpretive take that has both in film evidence to support, and a lack of otherwise to refute.

At the end of the day (and as usual) the important part here is to see that Luke hadn’t given up. Struggling, disillusioned, forced into a tough spot, willingly keeping himself scarce, etc. All bearable. But knowing he hadn’t given up is super important to the character and fanbase, so hopefully we get something that makes that cannon. In any facet really.

AND IT WOULD GET MARK HAMILL BACK ON SET GODAMNIT! XD

*Reblogged with new gifs and information

#star wars #the last jedi #tlj #mark hamill #luke skywalker #the mandalorion spoilers #the mandalorian season 2

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currentfandomkick · 4 years ago

Text

Marinette did not sign up for this part 10: Mari plots plotting

So long time no post. I live. Ish. Also finally figured out readmore on mobile, so yay. Will take forever to edit posts now though. Explanation at the bottom First part here previous part here. Ao3 here

Marinette wanted to go on record that Mandeliev did not, in fact, give her an extra day or so to study for the test. Why? Instead, she was told she may do a paper on the application of physics in gymnastics and principles of evasion in urban areas and how to combine the two to maximize one’s ability to run away from akumas and other dangers.

Or as Nino put it: “I am tormenting you into running better, the eight page essay.”

Alya dubbed it the “Run Better Paper.”

Aurore said it should include more formulas when Marinette showed her the draft. (as Adrien would complain about lack of theories and how she should have used this advanced formula she’d never heard of instead and then Marinette would have to forcibly stop him from taking over her paper. Again.)

Kim had taken to keeping her in his hoodie, escorting her to the bakery and didn’t leave her alone until Adrien said it was his “Marinette Anxiety Watch” shift.

Which she would like to go on record, is just plain mean to say. She has Liar 100% under control when world ending things and metaphorical bomb drops aren’t happening to her constantly.

—-

Bruce tried to contact Diana and Arthur again. Hal was off world, and therefore useless.

Why?

As his missing son hadn’t contacted them yet. Was still in the Miraculous team’s custody. And he saw the footage of Robin—Damian—being hunted by a lving shadow, an element casting swordswoman, and a strategist that seemed to know exactly what to do to keep Robin cornered in battle. The living shadows—Chat Noir—tried to kill his son with Cataclysm.

That was when they were in public, and had Hal watching over them.

He didn’t want to think about what the kids might do unsupervised to someone that tried to kill Ladybug, openly stalked her civilian self, and apparently tried stalk her again, in broad daylight. And possibly may have revealed her secret identity…

From the comments, it seemed that the Parisians hadn’t connected his sons aliases to the pair, writing it off as “Copy-cat Vigilantes” thankfully. And none of them were revealing more than “so the Fashion Disaster tried to go after Chat and Ryuko’s civvie… Not A Smart CopyBird” was the most he was able to get.

His children, on the other hand…

——

“I Fucking KNEW IT!” Tim yelled. “I knew it was her!”

“But,” Jason smirked. “You didn’t tell us.”

“Soup girl, baby bat!” Cass said gleefully.

“Wait, we both talked to her—and you didn’t say you thought it was her either Cass!”

“So what I’m hearing, if my ears don’t deceive me,” Jason continued. “Is that you all lost too.”

“What—“

“Wait a minute!”

“No way—”

Cass shrugged. She was the least invested in winning. She got to meet soup girl, who is very nice and her parents are safe for Baby Bat.

“We don’t have proof,” Dick pointed out. “Didn’t you say something about her being a mouse?”

“I—”

“Well—”

“Yes.” Cass cut through Tim and Stephanie’s waffling. “She is.”

Dick rubbed his forehead. “How many secrets can one kid have?”

“Five?” Jason said without much thought. “Limit is definitely five.”

—-

“Let me get this straight,” Miss Sting began, watching Ladybug very, very carefully. Rena and Carapace were busy that night and couldn’t act as the team’s Common Sense Filter in person. and texts only went so far.

So the job fell to Aurore. To talk (probably Marinette) Ladybug out of a Very, Stupendously, Inconceivably Bad Idea.

“You want to trust Robin—the kid who tried to kill you—to contact his mother—an assassin—to talk strategy about how to take down Hawkmoth’s civilian life’s business, not kill him, and trust that they won’t kill you?”

“…I’m bringing Chat with me.”

“Ladybug.”

“What, do you want me to use a Lucky Charm to prove this is our best bet?”

“You know what?” Miss Sting threw her hands up. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Fine.” Ladybug threw her yoyo skyward. “Lucky Charm!”

A red, spotted ball with an 8 on it came down.

“… you have got to be kidding me.”

Ladybug shrugged. “Uh, Magic Eightball, is it okay to trust Robin with this?”

One shake later and the floating die window read “Without a Doubt.”

“Give me that.” Miss Sting scowled, shaking as she asked. “Should she bring someone besides Chat and Robin—like someone from our team or Wonder Woman or Aquaman?”

The ball answered “Outlook not so good.”

Miss Sting glared at the magic eight ball. “I can’t believe this!”

Ladybug shrugged. “Lucky Charms are Lucky Charms—and I gotta go.”

Miss Sting checked her beeping spinning top. Someone was just akumatized.

“Re-charge first!” Miss Sting yelled before swinging ahead.

—-

“Oh, hey, when’s Demon Spawn going to contact us?” Jason asked as other bats calmed down.

“He’s not answering his communicator.” Bruce growled. “Hal took it earlier.”

The bats paused at that.

“Well then. Trackers?”

“Disabled—what? We didn’t need anyone crashing the apology and he ran off before I could stop him,” Dick defended. He is not Damian’s keeper. Just his Batman (as yes Bruce, he is Damian’s Batman and Damian is his Robin. Current masks not-withstanding).

“Then how are we supposed to find him?” Stephanie asked as the room grew uneasy.

No one answered that.

“How’s this,” Tim began. “Me, Steph and Cass agreed on who Hawkmoth probably is, each of us has a different set of evidence for it—and I’m counting breaking into his evil Liar and the cameras catching him mid-act a few minutes ago as absolute proof.”

“I’m sorry, you did what!” Stephanie leaned over Tim’s shoulder to see. “Oh shit. Isn’t that guy—”

“One of her friends? According to their private Instagram accounts, more like partner in crime and possible Chat Noir. I mean, he’s the one that calls her his “everyday Ladybug” and voices Chat Noir in everything." Tim answered idly. “My money’s on him not knowing at all.”

Bruce twitched. Then began to add ‘stalking social media feeds’ to his to-do list tonight.

“So,” Tim stepped forward. “I suggest we send this to the Wonder Woman and ask for Robin’s comm to be returned, and failing that, I bugged the video so anything they play it on, we get access to its IP and can find where they are.”

“Have Oracle go over the bug, just in case,” Bruce told them. “In the mean time, the rest of you suit up for the night. Gotham needs its vigilantes.”

—-

Marinette wanted to go on the record that her plan (to keep the bats away) was going well. Deciding what to do with Mu—R—Damian. Damian. Damian and his offer, was a challenge.

For obvious reasons, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman and Aquaman were against her asking a bunch of assassins for their help. Chat has more than a few reservations. Carapace, Rena and Miss Sting gave her looks for that plan.

But.

But it would work. She needs more information on how to make the plan burning in the back of her mind work. It’s a lot of chaos (and she may thrive in chaotic battles but this wasn’t her usual battlefield, and her team didn’t know who they were going up against for once). And Marinette? She needs to know its not just her doing this when its so out of her depths.

So despite literally everyone and their disagreements she had Chat on her right side with Damian on her left, meeting up with his Crazy, Semi-Immortal mother. And possibly his Immortal, former Black Cat candidate, grandfather.

Why?

As Marinette isn’t trusting the likely cult that makes up the Gotham Ghost Gang (Batfam if you like them) when she can get real advice and vague directions to immortal and allied (loyal and terrifying) assassins.

And yes, she wasn’t sure if Liar was wrong or right when they said it was a bad idea too.

But fuckit she’s already got Kaalki at her shoulder, looking a bit bored at the deserted rooftop that Kaalki chose for their meeting.

“داميان*,” the woman smiled at her son. “It’s good to see you.”

“Mother,” Robin greeted. “This is Ladybug and Chat Noir. Ladybug wished to speak to you about potential strategies to take down an enemy outside of battle without violence,” Damian stressed.

“I am well-aware of the Kwami and their Chosen, اِبْن.**” The woman spoke calmly. “The League of Assassins formed to act as the Black Cat to restore the world to balance and un-burden the Order with its maintenance.” The woman offer Ladybug her hand. “I am Talia al Ghul, and I am at your service, with or without violence Ladybug.”

Marinette took her hand. “Thank you Talia. Our target being directly exposed like I planned would have…” Ladybug trailed off, thinking over the ramifications not only to Adrien, but to the whole of Gabriel’s brand, workers and all that worked with them. “Some intense ramifications I’d rather avoid.”

Talia nodded her head, waiting for more information.

“I believe its possible to topple them without affecting their employees by uncoupling them from their business, but doing so is, well, stocks and economics isn’t my strongest point.” Ladybug admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I would suggest,” Talia began, “to create a bit of chaos in the stock market. Perhaps a rumor here and there, let investors pull out and grab the abandoned stocks quickly. Consolidate them under one owner and become the company’s owner.”

Marinette twitched a bit at that. “That… sounds complicated.”

“Oh, but it isn’t. My son knows just how to that, or did you forget our lessons?” Talia asked coolly.

Damian twitched at Marinette’s side. “I did not.”

“You know,” Chat chimed in. “I do know a few things about those things. If its general chaos, well…” Chat’s face twisted in a way Marinette forgot he could do after that Chat Blanc episode.

“… I will take that into consideration.”

“Anything else?” Talia asked, watching Ladybug and her son. Specifically, how her son seemed glued to the girl’s side. “I am certain my son is able to take out your target, if all else fails.”

Damian scowled at Marinette’s side.

“However, I do believe that whatever is happening, whatever has you active, might require a more… experience hand.”

Damian brushed against her side. Code for ‘Possible Danger.’

“Thank you for the offer,” Chat moved in front of Marinette. “But mi’lady and the Guardians have that much handled.”

Talia’s eyes shifted from Chat to Ladybug, staying on her. “Is that so?”

“Yes. I merely needed more information on how to execute this type of plan, that’s all!” Ladybug almost, almost slipped into Marinette while Liar, while silenced for the moment, prodded the back of her mind. “I want to minimize collateral damage as much as I can, to everyone. The kwami already said they get to chose the target’s punishment.”

“Ah, I see.” Talia relaxed then. “You are following the kwami’s wishes. I will respect their wishes as well, Chosen.”

Marinette categorized this interaction as one of the “not too horrible, but will avoid a repeat” once they left.

—

*Damian in arabic

**son

so we have Talia now as a Player, sort of. she plays by her word pretty well so hopefully its a cameo more than anything else.

any ideas on how JL will handle the video, and if Miraculous Team should see it and freak out or only LB and keep on the dl while JL assissts in her Chaos Plot?

End of update. Will have to repost from ao3 on my phone now as desktop tumblr is being exceptionally rude. Tags always open, just takes me a bit to do—sorry to vixen for vanishing from tags

TAGS: @heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace @jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @bisha43rbs @izang @dreamykitty25 @emu-lumberjack @vixen-uchiha

#maribat #marinette did not sign up for this #part 10 #updated at last #my writing #long post #my writings #bio!dad bruce

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zrtranscripts · 4 years ago

Text

Season 9, Mission 5: Sandstorm

Summer Holiday

[ship horn honks, waves crash on shore]

PETER LYNNE: Listen, all I'm saying is he could have dropped us off a little bit nearer.

JANINE DE LUCA: Our captain was clear from the outset, Peter. Our information on Tunisia is limited. He did not wish to deliver us to a port which might present unknown dangers. Or docking fees. Hence the empty stretch of coast we've landed on.

SAM YAO: Oh, it's nice though, isn't it? The sandy cliffs, the crystal blue sea, the rocky beach. Way better than that tiny ship's hold. Not that I didn't enjoy helping Janine tick “win 1,000 consecutive games of chess” off her bucket list. Oh, oh hey, careful how you carry the briefcase, Five. Remember, it's got Veronica inside. [shouts] You okay in there, Veronica?

VERONICA MCSHELL: Sam, for the last time, this case contains hardware running a full copy of my personality connected to a full suite of sensor systems, including auditory. You do not need to shout. Janine, Amelia gave me a message to play upon our arrival in Tunisia. Stand by.

AMELIA SPENS: Hello, Tunisia team. Let's make this super clear: you are not over there sightseeing. You're infiltrating a secret base codenamed Red Scorpion at the behest of General Bakari. He's directed you to a city near Red Scorpion called New Agadir. Until you reach New Agadir, where you must impersonate the mercenary group Death's Hand, you should pretend to be independent UK traders.

This is a covert mission, so if things go badly, I can't help you. Remember, the red fungus endangers the whole world. If it's in Red Scorpion, we need to know. Don't mess this up. Amelia out.

PETER LYNNE: Right, right, right. So just-just to make sure I've got this right, we're in another country with no support and we left our only doctor on the boat. Fantastic!

VERONICA MCSHELL: It's fortunate Maxine was present to identify the measles outbreak on the ship. If we hadn't left her to take care of it, it might have become a pandemic, Maintaining herd immunity via vaccination has proven almost impossible since the apocalypse.

JANINE DE LUCA: I see a road atop the hill heading west. Miss Spens’ preliminary scouting identified settlements on the Tunisian coast. That road leads to an outpost called Kalaat El-Amal. From there, we can arrange transport south towards New Agadir. Miss Spens also provided me details of a contact she's established in New Agadir who can assist us, a man by the name of Mohammed Boujettif. We must find him there.

Aside from anything else, we may need him to take Dr. Myers’s place in Death's Hand, although if he has no medical experience, that could prove difficult. The alias of the team member Dr. Myers was to impersonate is Doctor Death.

International subterfuge... it has been some time. Remember people, we do not know how the apocalypse landed here or what dangers await. Watch out for each other and keep your wits. Up the hill to the road, run!

SAM YAO: Oh, I thought the going would get easier once we reached the top of the hill, but now the road's covered in sand!

PETER LYNNE: Well, there's not much to stop it blowing in from the desert. As far as local scenery goes, you've got potholed roads and sand dunes and that's basically all you're going to get.

SAM YAO: So I get that we're pretending to be traders for now, then when we reach New Agadir we'll be impersonating Death's Hand, but what do we do if the actual Death’s Hand show up? I mean, my briefing said my cover is someone called Sven “Psycho” Mountback, who I don't exactly want to meet.

PETER LYNNE: Well, Amelia is recruiting the mercenaries now for a job in the UK. That's a trap that'll keep them out of our way. And they mostly work in the shadows, so their faces aren't well-known. So in theory at least, we should be able to pass for them. And Bakari swears he can get them - by which I mean us - onto the base.

JANINE DE LUCA: Gamma 1 insertion protocols, as Tom would have said.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: (in the distance) Guys, it's me!

SAM YAO: Does anyone hear that? Look, behind us. There's someone coming up the road dressed like a deckhand from the ship, waving.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Guys, it's Frances!

PETER LYNNE: Oh, you've got to be kidding me!

JANINE DE LUCA: Miss Dempsey, what are you doing here?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: I, uh, stowed away on the ship. Hid in a storage crate, swam to shore when I'd heard you'd landed. Bribed a sailor to tell me when you did. A bit wet from the swim. I know you didn't want me to come, but I swear I'll be useful.

JANINE DE LUCA: Miss Dempsey, this is unacceptable! You were expressly forbidden...

SAM YAO: Uh, Janine? Usually you don't drift off when you're berating people.

JANINE DE LUCA: The sky, it's turned white. Winds are rising. If my memories of Algeria hold true, this indicates an incoming dust storm. We must get to cover quickly.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Does that mean I can come?

JANINE DE LUCA: It means, Miss Dempsey, that since there is no way to get you back to the UK, you are unfortunately in danger with the rest of us. There, gleaming structures on the horizon. Kalaat El-Amal. All of you, in that direction. Run!

[wind blows]

SAM YAO: The outpost is ahead. Yeah, I think I see an outer wall. It's hard to make out in this sand. [spits] It really gets in your teeth, doesn't it, Five?

VERONICA MCSHELL: Changing global weather patterns, likely brought on by a large increase in methane emissions from decaying flesh, have left this region more prone to dust storms. My sensors should have alerted us to the stormfront. And I failed to predict Frances's arrival.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Um, quick question. Why is the suitcase talking?

PETER LYNNE: That's our... computer expert, Veronica. She's our expert... who is also a computer.

SAM YAO: Guys, look behind you. There's-there's like a solid wall of sand looping towards us.

JANINE DE LUCA: We're on the storm's periphery, but the eye is approaching fast and the dust already feels cutting in these winds. Everybody switch to comms, cover your mouths. You should have desert goggles and masks in your packs. Miss Dempsey, take mine. I will use my shirt.

PETER LYNNE: Wait, wait, wait. Janine, that's ridiculous. She can have my mask.

JANINE DE LUCA: It is done, Peter, there is no time to argue. I see no rocks large enough for shelter. Our only hope is reaching Kalaat El-Amal before we're subsumed. Run!

[wind whistles]

FRANCES DEMSPEY: God, it's like being in a blender full of dust! Getting hard to balance in the wind. Five, grab my arm so we don't get separated.

JANINE DE LUCA: I do not see the road! Does anyone have a visual?

VERONICA MCSHELL: Janine, I have run estimates on the wind speed and density of the storm. There is less than a 3% chance of our surviving.

PETER LYNNE: Oh, fantastic! Thank you, Veronica. Helpful as always.

VERONICA MCSHELL: If I'd warned you of the storm sooner, you might have been able to shelter near the cliffs. I'm sorry.

PETER LYNNE: Janine, not to seem overprotective, but obviously you should take my mask. I'm literally indestructible!

JANINE DE LUCA: You have an anti-P-type bomb in your body, Peter. Inhaling sand might damage it. We cannot risk that. I appreciate you're afraid of losing me after the Hebrides. I let you join this mission because I trust you, but I'm as worried for you as you are for me. Do not disobey my orders!

[zombie shrieks]

SAM YAO: What was that?

PETER LYNNE: Look, those are human shapes being whirled about in the wall of sand behind us. Some are missing limbs or torn in half. They're all thrashing about. Yep, they're zombies.

JANINE DE LUCA: We cannot let them catch us. We have no idea if the zombie virus has variants here. Even if we survive the storm with our cure stocks intact, they might not be effective. Likewise Mr. Yao's immunity. We can't let them catch us. Go!

[wind whistles]

SAM YAO: Five! Five, is that you? If you can see me, I'm waving.

FRANCES DEMSPEY: Sam, we see you! Five and I are to your left. Keep moving through the dust.

SAM YAO: Oh, thank God. I can barely make out your outlines. I was worried you were zoms. Have you seen the others? We were trying to keep hold of each other, but the winds kept knocking us down. Storm's interfering with comms beyond point blank range.

FRANCES DEMSPEY: Everyone's been scattered, visibility's practically zero.

VERONICA MCSHELL: I'm trying to calculate everyone's probable vectors, but there are too many variables. At home, I would have more processing power, but this portable me can only handle so much.

During our voyage, I heard Peter talk about Frances's desire to join the mission, but my limited resources did not allow me to model her probable behavior. I was also unable to perceive the worsening weather because my capacity was devoted to reviewing mission files. My limitations have undermined my usefulness.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Not as much as this sand will if any of it gets in your circuits. We've got to get you inside, Veronica. Janine shouldn't have given me her mask. What if she chokes? She's the most important person to the mission.

SAM YAO: Don't think like that, Frances. We just got here. We're not losing people already, not like the Hebrides. I promised Sara we'd come home safe, that we'd bring her fun travel stories.

JANINE DE LUCA: [static] Repeat. [garbled audio] Repeat.

SAM YAO: Janine!

VERONICA MCSHELL: I am detecting faint electromagnetic activity. It may be the outpost.

[zombie growls]

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Sam, behind you!

SAM YAO: Oh God, that whirling wall of zoms is almost on us. Five, speed up! They're just gristle and bone, the flesh is torn right off them. The wind’s tossing zoms straight at us. Run, everyone! Head south... gah! That way, I think. Just run!

[wind whistles]

SAM YAO: That's it, Five, keep holding my hand. I've got Frances, we're in a chain.

[zombies growl]

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Everybody duck! Oh God, did you see that? A flayed zombie torso, ripped to shreds by the sand. It flew right over our heads in the wind. I'm sorry, Sam, I shouldn't have come.

SAM YAO: Frances, it's okay.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Peter warned me it was dangerous. I just, I really thought I could help. But I know you're all scared of losing people after the Hebrides, but you're all at risk here and I'm making it worse.

JANINE DE LUCA: Mr. Yao, Runner Five, this is Colonel De Luca. Mr. Lynne and I have made it into Kalaat El-Amal. Can you hear? They have equipment monitoring your approach. They're boosting our comms. They're sealing the entrance against the weather and activating a signal beacon on the outer wall.

SAM YAO: There! Hard to tell in this suit, but those look like... yes, flashing yellow lights ahead.

JANINE DE LUCA: The gate is in front of you, but it is closing fast. If you don't hurry, you'll be trapped outside. Sensors indicate torn zombie flesh has made that swirling storm wall infectious. You cannot risk being engulfed. You must get inside. Run!

[alarm blares, gate creaks and slams shut]

SAM YAO: That's it, Five, we're in. Made it through that gate by inches. Don't see anyone around, just a big metal room with big metal doors. Gate must be automatic. First bit of wider world we've seen since Z-Day, Five, give or take Finland. I wonder how people here are doing.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Guess we're about to find out. We're okay, everyone's okay. We all made it.

VERONICA MCSHELL: And my estimations of Kalaat El-Amal's location were accurate. It will take me time to get used to operating at this capacity, but I will persevere. I am confident I can keep the team safe. After analyzing the Hebrides files, I know how much difficulty you all have without me.

[door rattles open]

SAM YAO: Janine, Peter!

JANINE DE LUCA: It's good to see you all intact, including you, Miss Dempsey. It seems you've left me no choice now but to consider you one of the team. The locals were rather shocked to see us approaching through the storm.

SAM YAO: But they let you in, so they're friendly, right?

PETER LYNNE: Oh, they are very friendly, and very worried. You see, apparently the last few foreign traders to visit Kalaat El-Amal carried serious diseases. Measles, flu, multiple poxes. So they're putting us under quarantine until we're vetted, for a period of no less than three months. That means if we can't find another way out of here, the whole mission is over.

#zombies run #zrs9 #s9m5 #zr transcript #zrs9 spoilers

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falseroar · 4 years ago

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Dog Days Part 10: Limited Supply

((After finally getting some sleep, Abe learns a little more about the lack of silver bullets in the city and where someone might go to get a Google of their own, or four.

This one is back to being on the long side, but I think the next few are going to level out and not be jumping between long Abe sections and shorter Y/N ones.

Warning: reference to using alcohol as a bad coping mechanism.

Links to Part 9 and to the whole series here.))

Abe didn’t remember the walk back to his car, but he did at least remember that this hospital charged for parking by the hour before he gave in to the impulse to try and get a nap right there in the driver’s seat. It felt like a minor miracle when he managed to reach his office/apartment without causing an accident, and a major one when he was finally, finally able to pull off his shoes and little else before crashing on top of his unmade futon bed.

It was a hard sleep, the kind that left Abe feeling somehow vaguely worse when he woke up than when he fell asleep. Might have had something to do with the puddle of drool he woke up in, or the vague confusion about when and where he was when he opened his crusty eyes to a dark room with the only light coming from the streetlights outside.

He sat up with a groan and a slightly worrying crack from his back. How long had it been since he slept here and not in some random hotel room or in his car or those couple of nights spent out in the woods that probably didn’t actually count as sleeping, now that he thought about it? He checked his watch, realized it had fallen off somewhere in the sheets, and stumbled his way to the bathroom to try and make an effort to clean himself up.

One shower later he felt slightly more human and awake enough to realize that despite feeling like he had barely closed his eyes, he had somehow managed to sleep for over 12 hours there. Which meant he was a bit late on the ball for another night at the doctor’s clinic, again.

Then again, Abe told himself as he checked the coffeemaker and grimaced at what he found there, chances were high that other doctor clued Schneeplestein in on a hunter coming around asking about vampires. Wasn’t like he had been super subtle, and he doubted Dr. Iplier had enough vampire patients to not be able to narrow down who might need to be worried. Keeping some distance for one night couldn’t hurt, not when he had a few other things to look into.

He dug out the envelope that Google guy gave him and leaned against his desk as he checked the contents again. Pictures of the doc, those could have been taken by anyone, and addresses were easy to get, but the copy of the certificate was another question. Abe had seen a couple of these before, battered smaller versions carried by various non humans to prove that they were registered and, theoretically, as harmless as anyone else walking on the street.

This one though, or at least the copy of it, was the larger version kept on file. The seals looked genuine enough, and there was no sign of blurring or any other kind of alteration even when Abe checked with a magnifying glass. If it was a fake, then it was the best one he had ever seen, but the only place to find this version was either in the city’s official records (and even then you had to jump through enough hoops to make you feel like a prized poodle at the dog show) or theoretically in the Bronson Institute’s files, although Abe had never managed to wrangle permission to get to those.

Either way, not an easy piece of paper to get your hands on without the right connections, which could give him a leg up on narrowing down who was so invested in finding out more about this doctor. Abe didn’t believe that bull about not wanting to accidentally accuse an innocent person, not from someone who had to send a magic doohickey made to look like a person instead of showing their own face.

Google. That guy had to be a lead of his own too, even if there was apparently more than one of him walking around. There weren’t too many people who could be capable of making magitek that could pass for human, considering Abe didn’t know of anyone who could pull that off.

But he did know someone who always knew how to pull off the next best thing if there was even a hint of money to be made.

The rest of the night passed quickly, as Abe made a few notes and tried (and failed) to connect a few more dots before heading out just before dawn.

A drive by the clinic proved the doctor had already headed out, and despite driving the way he saw him walk off yesterday Abe failed to see any sign of the vampire before he pulled up to his favorite coffee stop.

“Look at that, he came back,” Carla greeted him as he walked in. “How do you look even worse than yesterday?”

“It’s called getting old,” Abe answered, but she just clucked her tongue and reached for an empty cup. “Your musician not here today?”

“The Host? Guess not, if you didn’t see him. Not like he has a set time to be here,” Carla said. She poured the coffee and paused to look at him. “Feeling brave enough to try something different today?”

“Maybe later,” Abe answered, same as he did every other time she bothered to ask. Black coffee as strong as it came had served him well this long, after all. When she shrugged and slid the cup of coffee toward him, he hesitated and asked, “You still make those sandwiches here?”

Despite the fact that the coffee shop was completely empty except for him and Carla, the hunter took one of the far corner booths by the front windows so that he could keep an eye on the people walking outside while he ate and drank his coffee. Carla would throw him a question or make a comment out into the air every now and then, but otherwise she let him sit there in a silence that was only broken by the occasional other customer.

Even when the number of customers started to pick up and more and more people took empty tables and booths and filled the coffee shop with talking and laughter and general noise, Abe just sat there in his own bubble of silence, watching the street without really seeing it.

The house. Why had Google told him to go there, what was he supposed to see? Someone had performed a ritual there, or at least tried to, and Abe could only hope there was enough of whatever poor fool thought that was a good idea to walk out of there. No body to be found anyways, but sometimes that just made things worse.

He swallowed, hard, and tried to focus.

What was the connection to the Colonel? Celine had been into that stuff, but Abe somehow doubted the Colonel was the type to have a head or the patience for magic. Then again, neither was he, because when he looked at the symbols he had copied into his notebook, they still looked half a step away from scribbles.

And the next page was a copy of the doctor’s list of weapon shop owners.

Abe chewed on his thumbnail as he stared at that page, his thoughts of that used silver bullet in the doctor’s office shifting to the memory of small, twin piles of gleaming silver bullets in his and the Colonel’s palms. One of which ended up in his own chest, and the other…

Next thing he knew, he was shoving the notebook back into the pocket it came from and hurriedly gathering all of his trash together to throw away.

“Heading out?” Carla asked, like she had been keeping an eye on him.

“Yeah, I’ve got—I’ve got some things I need to look into,” Abe said, avoiding her knowing stare. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Abe,” she said, so sharply that he had to stop and look back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just working on a case. You know how it is,” Abe answered. He had maybe camped out here in the coffee shop for an hour or six before, going through cup after cup of coffee while working through a particularly difficult problem.

So it was a little surprising to hear the genuine concern in Carla’s voice when she said, “Don’t let it get to you. You can always turn down a case if it’s not sitting with you, right?”

“Of course I can,” Abe answered, mostly out of reflex.

Because as he stepped outside into the crisp but quickly warming up air, he knew that as true as that was in theory, he really couldn’t. Not when he could feel the edge of a thread, of something connecting all of this that he couldn’t see yet.

The hunter glanced at the bench outside of the shop, but there was still no sign of the Host. Not that Abe was sure he wanted to talk to that guy again anytime soon, but he felt an itch in the back of his mind whenever he spared him a thought, like there was something he was forgetting.

Abe paused at the door of his car and looked back, then all around, but there was no one there out of the ordinary, nothing to explain the fleeting sense of being watched that he quickly put out of his mind.

---

Every weapon shop on the doctor’s list, and a couple more that Abe knew of from his own shopping, had the same response when the hunter asked: no one was buying silver bullets, at least not anytime recently.

“No market for them,” one shop owner explained. “If you want, I can put an order in, but it’ll take a few weeks unless it’s an emergency.”

“Haven’t kept them in stock in three years,” a clerk at another store said after checking their computer. “And that was after not selling them for even longer. Wound up selling our last batch back to the smith who made them.”

Guy at another store outright laughed at Abe when he asked, and he had enough clues to tell he wasn’t the first to ask long before one manager Abe had dealt with before joked, “We had a guy in asking about silver bullets yesterday. You two know something we don’t?”

“That depends. What’d the other guy look like?” Abe asked.

“I don’t know, white guy, brown hair. Wore a red hoodie and didn’t look much like your typical hunter, but that’s about all I noticed,” the manager said with a shrug as she went back to wiping down her glass counter. “Told him I could order him some if he had an ID, but he didn’t care about that. Sounded more like he was interested in telling where a particular bullet came from, and I had to explain to him that you can’t really do that just by looking, you know?”

Abe nodded. If you knew what to look for, you could tell what kind of gun had fired a bullet, but narrowing it down to a particular weapon would require an expert. There were forensics guys with the police and the Institute who could do that, both of which would have a lot of questions for a doctor who showed up with a used silver bullet, starting with just who he pulled that bullet out of.

Werewolves were always the first thing to come to mind whenever silver bullets came into the conversation, although Abe knew they weren’t the only ones to have a weakness for silver. Vampires had a problem with the stuff too, if not as much, but most people were more familiar with the holy symbols and wooden stakes. Really, the only debate among hunters was whether silver crucifixes or wooden ones were better, and even then it usually boiled down to cost and the fact that one version could just as easily become a stake if you were desperate enough. No hunter would bother using a silver bullet on a vampire, since it wasn’t even a guaranteed kill like it was with a werewolf; do it wrong, and you really just ticked off someone who was probably already angling to take a bite out of you.

So, probably only one reason any reasonable person would be packing silver bullets. The problem was, there hadn’t been a werewolf within the bounds of the city in years, as everyone seemed keen to remind Abe today. The District Attorney hadn’t been the last one, with the odd one or two that supposedly ran afoul of the Institute and then were never seen again. From what Abe heard among other hunters and his not quite human contacts, the rumors about what happened to them were enough to keep any sane were from taking that risk.

“You looking to buy some?” the manager asked, in a tone that suggested she already knew the answer before Abe shook his head.

“Still got a few of my own rattling around,” he answered.

Five bullets, to be exact. The five bullets that remained in his gun after that party, the five he had been left with when all was said and done.

Well, that and the bullet the Colonel put in his chest, bit hard to forget about that one.

Abe walked out of the weapons shop and rubbed his face, hand audibly scratching against the stubble on his chin. According to the manager, the guy in the hoodie had come in to that particular shop during the day yesterday, so unless the doctor was topping up on blood and using the hood to keep out of direct sunlight, he had friends to do his day work for him.

Was it one of those friends who had a silver bullet put in them, or one of his patients? Couldn’t be a real werewolf, even a shot that a regular human would be able to survive could kill a were if the bullet was silver. When just the touch of the stuff burned, having it suddenly in your system generally didn’t do a body good. So probably a case of mistaken identity, or just using whatever weapon happened to be at hand, although that second one didn’t sound likely considering the general lack of silver ammunition lying around.

Really, the only ones who would have silver bullets these days would be hunters like him who kept a supply of just about anything that might be useful on hand. Which gave Abe’s mind fuel for his next theory of who might want to send Google to get him to keep an eye on the doctor: a hunter who mistakenly shot someone they believed was a werewolf would have a reason to get rid of the doctor who both treated and possibly saved said victim and possessed the evidence that could track the shooting back to them. Hiring another hunter to dig up dirt on said doctor and discredit him before that could happen would be one way of dealing with the problem.

Or, alternatively, someone really was worried about the doctor and wanted to have someone else on standby and ready to prove his innocence, but for some reason Abe just wasn’t ready to believe his client had the best motives at heart here.

There was also the problem that if someone did survive that bullet, why would they need to risk asking around town about it? Either the victim didn’t know or see their shooter and had another reason not to go to the police without some solid evidence to back them up first, or the victim wasn’t in a position to tell anyone about it afterward.

So, possibly a victim out there, who was just as possibly dead or alive at this point, and a doctor who was possibly trying to solve their attempted and/or actual murder, and then there was the hunter who was possibly being setup to do something possibly very stupid and regrettable. Or, possibly, Abe was barking up the wrong tree entirely, which was also something he considered while he groaned into his steering wheel and questioned all of his life choices for a solid five minutes at least.

No matter how many theories he could come up with, they all came back to the same idea: he needed to figure out just who was so interested in this doctor and why, and at least Abe had an idea on where to start there.

---

The next time he parked his car, it was on the seedier side of town. This had less to do with the people living in this area and more the businesses that thought these few blocks were prime real estate, or at least within the range they were willing to shell out for. The kind of places where the abundance of signs about “genuine” and “high quality” merchandise for prices that were low enough to make any reasonable person tilt their head, but it was the stuff that wasn’t advertised that tended to lead the owners to make “charitable contributions” to the local police and to the campaign funds of certain officials. In exchange, the powers that be were willing to look the other way on the sale of the occasional fake designer handbag or charm of questionable origin.

For example, there was a while where this was the place to go for dragon eggs, back when there was a craze going around that the eggs supposedly had all kinds of miracle properties when properly prepared. The government actually had to step in on that one when it turned out the eggs were really coming from an enchanted goose grown to giant size and hidden away in one of the warehouses around here. And even that was only after the gander got out and surprised no one by causing general mayhem and havoc across the city with the simple vindictiveness of a goose with nothing better to do. Took an entire team of hunters and a bread van to lure the fowl out of the city and to a nearby lake, and that was after they figured out how to return it to normal size.

Today though, Abe went into the bargain bin store whose name changed every time he passed through here, same as the strange array of items on sale in bulk. The owner, however, never changed, and it didn’t take the hunter long to find him slapping a box that according to its label contained one hundred rubber ducks and talking to a customer in an exaggerated southern drawl.

“Tell you what, you take these and I’ll give you a 10% discount on that there drowning charm you were checking out. Guaranteed to keep you afloat, in the bath or out on the open seas, your choice.”

“…Do you mean the ducks or the charm?” the customer asked.

“Both!”

Abe took a walk around the warehouse-like store at that, but he didn’t have long to snort at the rack of labeled potion bottles that claimed to cure everything from rheumatism to bad breath before the bell over the door rang and the customer walked out awkwardly holding the massive box of rubber ducks.

“You’re kidding me,” Abe muttered, but the salesman who was already bearing down on him heard him and grinned.

“I know what people need, and I can see you’re checking out our excellent selection of potions. The one to treat baldness is right there on the—” Ed Edgar stopped short and visibly swallowed when he found the muzzle of a gun pressing up against his jaw. “Top row, next to the other jokes, of course. Good to see you again, Abe.”

“Sure it is,” Abe said, lowering his gun but not putting it away in case Ed started the salesman routine again. “What do you know about magitek?”

“Yeah, that’s what I like about you, never a man to beat around the bush,” Ed said, switching gears once again. It was hard to see his eyes behind those sunglasses that he always wore, even inside, but that grin said he hadn’t given up on finally selling the hunter on something. “What are you in for, I’m sure I’ve got it! We’ve got tablets, we’ve got mice—the kind that’ll clean up your place while you sleep, I mean—and we’ve got word-activated lights that never need a battery, boxes that’ll follow you wherever you go—”

“What about magitek that can pass for human?” Abe interrupted. “You ever hear anything about that?”

“Mm-hmm,” Ed hummed, nodding his head like he was just waiting for Abe to ask. “Should have known you’d be up on what I expect will be the next big thing, soon as we can get the kinks knocked out.”

“Kinks?” Abe repeated, even though he immediately wished he hadn’t.

“There’s that whole ‘uncanny valley’ thing that bothers some people whenever you get something lookin’ a little too human that ain’t,” Ed admitted. “Especially if you maybe make one that forgets which way their limbs are supposed to go, but we’ve mostly worked that out at the warehouse. Got a prototype right here in the back, if you wanna see it. Gotta warn you, you might be tempted to put in an order of your own, and you’ll want to do it fast before everyone else catches on.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” Abe said, but his sarcasm couldn’t hide his interest.

Ed nodded and immediately yelled toward the back of the store, “Get out here, you bucket of bolts! We’ve got a customer!”

Not exactly the most stellar introduction, but it didn’t seem to bother the man who skateboarded out of the back and came to a slightly uneven stop near them. Said man tried, and failed, to kick his skateboard up and catch it, but he quickly picked it up and tucked it under his arm like that didn’t just happen before flashing them a surfer gesture with his free hand.

“Suh, dudes! How’s it hangin’?” asked the man, who like Ed was wearing a pair of sunglasses inside but otherwise couldn’t look anymore different than the salesman. While Ed was dressed like a wannabe cowboy from his boots to the ten gallon hat on top of his unkempt mullet, this guy seemed to be going more for the sanitized LA skater boy look. “Name’s Bing. Whatcha need to know?”

“You’re magitek?” Abe asked, even though after Google he was quicker to notice the obvious signs. No breathing, not exactly blinking behind those sunglasses, and something a bit plasticky about that grin were the big ones.

“That I am, dude! Perfect blending of that dope magic and some seriously sick technology to create the perfect blend of family-friendly information searching and sweet tricks.”

Bing started to put his board down as if to demonstrate, but Ed shot out a hand with a quick clear of his throat.

“Still working on that last bit, but my guys in the shop are sure the young people today will love this guy,” Ed said. “Nothing else like him.”

“Nothing?” Abe asked. “Funny, cause I’ve run into two magitek men that both called themselves ‘Google.’”

“Well, nothing like Bing on the market,” Ed said. He flicked the brim of his cowboy hat and cockily said, “That ship sailed, and me and Bing-a-boy here are going to be the first to pick up the slack, ain’t that right?”

“Yeah, that old fart Google has nothing on me,” Bing said, his grin growing wider and somehow more unsettling. Abe suspected someone may have added a few too many teeth to that mouth.

“Why did Google never make it to market?” Abe asked, even though he could think of many, many reasons why this whole concept bothered him.

Ed shrugged. “Lab that made ‘em was bought out by the Bronson Institute, and apparently, they’re not interested in making any more for some reason. Not into printing that money, I guess! Rumor is they only made four of those Google units before the Institute got involved.”

“I saw one at the hospital yesterday,” Abe said.

“Yeah, that one was a charitable donation, bit of a pilot project to see about how they’d do in a healthcare environment. Can’t get sick of course, so you can see why that’d be tempting,” Ed answered, although considering that Google had been running the receptionist’s desk, Abe suspected his bedside manner hadn’t matched up there. Or maybe it had something to do with the “incidents” that doctor mentioned. “Scientist who made them kept one to help in the lab, and I hear that big studio downtown managed to snatch one up. The institute probably took the last one, if I had to guess, cause I ain’t heard anything else about it.”

“Impressive that you were able to make your own version so soon,” Abe said, fishing.

But it was Bing who took the bait and said, “One of my creators used to work in the lab, until that bogus institute let him go. But I’m not just a copy of that defective Google, I’m an improvement.”

“Yeah you are,” Ed said, slapping him on the shoulder and then wincing. “Remind me to have a talk about that extra padding on your frame.”

A bright tone came from Bing’s chest and he straightened slightly as he said, “I will remind you to have a talk about the extra padding. Is 2 AM an acceptable time for this reminder?”

“No, why would I—” Ed, remembering that there was someone else there, stopped himself and cleared his throat. “Just remind me next time I’m in the warehouse.”

“Understood,” Bing said, a second tone coming before he “relaxed” into his standard posture.

“Could I meet this creator?” Abe asked, and almost immediately Ed tried to change the subject.

It took a bit more questioning, and managing to get Bing on his own while Ed ran to the other side of the store to grab some gadget he had convinced himself the hunter would love to buy, but Abe gradually gathered that when Bing said his creator used to work in the lab, he actually meant said guy used to take out the trash and may have “acquired” a few copies of Google’s design before he was “let go at ultimate speed,” which meant that he knew pretty much nothing that could help Abe.

Disappointing, but at least Abe was walking out with more info than when he walked in, and with the same amount of money in his pockets despite Ed Edgar’s best efforts. He even had an address for the lab the Google quartet came out of, but considering it was technically Institute property now he somehow doubted he could just walk up and start asking questions without getting more attention than he’d want right now.

It was something to consider at least, as Abe once again parked his car just far enough away from the clinic to not draw suspicion while he kept watch on the entrance. By the time he got there, it was already growing darker by the second despite the early hour, and despite the fact that a full moon tonight meant he should have been looking forward to a bright night to work with. Something that Abe should have noticed, but he was too focused on the settings of his camera to pay attention to the clouds gathering overhead until the first raindrops began to patter against his windshield.

The hunter swore under his breath and hastily moved his car a few spots closer to the clinic to make sure he would still have a clear line of sight through the rain that quickly escalated from a drizzle to a downpour. He turned off his headlights just in time, as a car pulled up in front of the clinic and sat there just long enough for him to roll down his window and get a good shot.

His camera clicked multiple times, catching the license plate of the car and the three men who jumped out and huddled around the front door while the doctor hastily fumbled with his keys. The light came on in the clinic and Abe managed to catch one or two more shots before the door shut behind them and blocked his view.

He sighed and rolled up his window, left arm soaked but hoping that the ambient streetlight plus the light from inside the building would be enough to get at least a couple of them to turn out okay despite the lack of flash.

Before he could take a look, a different kind of flash lit the street.

Seven seconds later, the boom of thunder followed and, despite the warning flash of lightning, Abe still flinched, the familiar pain in his chest a dragging weight against his pounding heart.

Maybe the storm would pass soon, if he could just wait it out—

There was a second flash of lightning, and Abe’s car started in the space between it and the following rumble of thunder.

Not like he could hope to get close enough to see anything tonight, Abe lied to himself as he drove back to his office, accelerating just that much faster with each new round of thunder and lightning. There would always be other chances.

Whether that was true or not was something he could care less about in the moment, as he hurried into his office mere minutes later and immediately shut his blinds to the rain hitting his windows. Never one to bother much with music, he still found a familiar album and turned on his record player loud enough to drown out the noise outside. If anyone was trying to get work done in the neighboring offices, they apparently knew better than to come by and complain, or just weren’t loud enough to make themselves heard.

At least he had plenty of practice in drowning out painful memories, Abe thought to himself as he pulled an emergency drink out of one of his desk drawers and poured the first glass of many. Not as much in actually dealing with them, but taking care of the person who caused them in the first place seemed like as good a place to start as any.

If he could just find a way to get to him.

((End of Part 10. Thanks again for reading, and sorry if this one felt all over the place. I may have written that whole “possibly” bit when I realized I had Abe going down way too many rabbit holes on something the reader knows the answer to already, and I seriously can’t wait until everyone’s finally on the same page and confused together. XD

Link to Part 11: First Moon.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox ))

#markiplier #fanfiction #detective abe #monster hunter au #ed edgar #bing iplier #silver bullets #abe didn't expect this case to throw up so many unwanted memories #it's almost like there's some kind of connection to what happened at the house #but that would just be ridiculous right?

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bestwestallenfics · 4 years ago

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Forced to Slow Down

If Iris wasn’t in the mirror during the death of the speed force, and helped Barry through it; rather than kicking him out of their home.

So, my second-ever fanfic! You can also read it in ao3 from here

It is constant.

The lightning through his veins, the warmth of electricity in his hug everytime it holded her, and eyes flaking with an uncontrollable force much bigger than any man could bear behind them. It was a constant being, moving with them, living with them, breathing with them, even loving with them. She was his spark, his lightning rod as he says, and he was a lost soul, running to a reason, to her, with every lightning filled step.

But it was gone.

Now he was just a normal person. He was powerless, broken. Iris never minded him having powers but he did. He believed it was his reason, his mission. And losing it scarred him, more than he would ever admit to her. But she saw.

She saw how much pain he was in everyday. She felt his shakiness caused by pushing himself to his limits. She saw his ragged and painful breaths filled with the need to get rid of that humanly helplessness. She heard his small “c’mon”s that he whispered under his breath in the field to get up when put down, body aching in agonizing pain. She wiped his tears that fell unstoppingly after the day he saw his mother die again in his arms, holding her like he would lose her next. “I’m not ready to tell Iris,” he said to Wally and she felt her breath shorten when her brother pitched it to him. He was afraid that she would accuse him, she would say that it was his fault that he changed the future (that they used to dread but now waiting for eagerly because that meant they would see Nora again) and that he keeps making selfish choices that affected them.

But she wouldn’t. Not this time.

None of this was his fault. He saved the universe for god's sake, and he gets what in return? His mother dying? Again? She knew that he still believed he was the reason for Nora’s death as well, trying to even stop him thinking it when they lay awake at night. It was a lot to bear, and it should never have been his burdens. Not now, certainly not in the endless time periods that he experiences. It is a lot for a human to take, even if it's a metahuman.

She gets the call from Barry in her lunch break. His voice cracks a little when giving her the news. Joe’s shot. He is fine, but he would have been finer if Barry didn’t kill his mother again. He doesn’t say that, but she hears anyway.

“Hey dad, you okay?”

“Fine” He doesn’t even give her a head kiss like he always does when she is right to be worried. This actually comforts her more. His dad was okay, I mean, it was one of many bullet wounds that he had to endure in his lifetime. So she lets it go.

“Hey, what happened?”

“There was gunfire. I wasn’t fast enough to stop all the bullets. He’s-he’s fine but it’s- it’s my fault that he got hurt.”

His watch turns yellow.

“Babe, your speed is getting worse, what should we do?”

“We can use facial recognition algorithms, metahuman trackers. I’m gonna find Ragdoll and stop him if I have to use every last resource in Star Labs to do it.” She nods, feeling that so familiar boss voice coming out again.

“We should keep him safe in every way we can.” She says calmingly, like she does in every team work with her husband. She trusts him, speed or no-speed, so she doesn’t get really worried. But Barry shifts in his place, clumps his hands together. He trusts her, but he doesn’t trust himself.

“In every way, I promise. You won't lose your dad Iris, I swear-”

“I know, hey, slow down.” She puts a hand on his shoulder while he holds the bar chair and sighs slowly. She notices that he is trying to stable himself, shuts his eyes to stop the world from spinning. His watch beams red and his breathing gets ragged.

Like Caitlin said, emotional reactions also trigger speed lost. And as it leaves his body, it has physical symptoms. It exhausts him, like if he was in flashtime non-stop. He feels awful and it is visible in him. She can still feel him shake under her hand.

“You should sit down, Barr.” she says, slowly helping him stand. Even if he doesn’t open his eyes, he shakes his head negatively.

He can’t slow down. He can’t. Everytime he does, someone gets hurt, someone gets killed. His mother got killed, his father got killed, his daughter got killed, his best friend got killed, Iris’s fiancé got killed, love of Caitlin’s life got killed, Cisco’s brother got killed, everyone gets killed, everyone always gets killed, and it’s because of him.

That’s the exact thing that happens that night. Joe gets killed. Almost. He survives. But it’s no different. Barry runs, but he slows down, and it almost kills him. He goes to witness protection. “I can’t protect you anymore Joe,” he says, because he has to. He needs to accept it himself. He can’t protect anyone anymore, but he tries.

He always tries.

Iris learns it later. She is terrified, but she understands. She always understands. “She should break everything and yell at me, I ruin her life” Barry thinks, but she doesn’t. She uses David to call Joe’s hotel undercover, and talks to him. Barry holds her hand the whole time for support. The weak electricity still tries to get to her like it always does, but she likes the warmth of her best friend more. She needs Barry Allen, not the flash. She always needs Barry Allen and only Barry Allen.

They return to the loft. She smiles when she sees the mint chocolate chip ice cream stocked in the freezer. It’s not from Happy Harbour, (since Barry can’t speed there in a minute anymore) it’s from the ice cream shop two blocks away, but it doesn’t matter. It’s still lovely, and it warms her heart just as the time Nora brought her the mint chip ice cream when out with her dad.

Nora’s dad however, goes upstairs to shower. He stayed with her for hours to make sure she was okay, but he was sweaty and tired. So she forces him to take his shower. She suggests helping him, but Barry rejects her. She scoops some ice cream to the cups she excitedly bought when Nora was there, imagining her daughter would love to eat ice cream with her and gossip at least once a week. They did use these cups eventually, just Nora wasn’t there to see it.

After she finishes her cup, and let’s be honest, two more cups, she notices she can hear the water is still running. “Honey?” she yells, waiting for the assurance that she usually gets. But she doesn’t.

She hurriedly makes her way upstairs to find Barry just leaning onto the wall in the shower. She can see his eyes are closed even though he leans his forehead to the wall while really cold water runs down his body. He only really used this cold water when Zoom broke his back, because he wanted to make the aching stop and Caitlin said to him that cold water might help since the speed force burnt the injury in order to fix it.

He breathes heavily in between his arms positioned to the wall to hold himself upright. He didn’t even use the shampoo she notices, because if he did, it wouldn’t be in its place. He always forgets to put it back into its place like Iris forces him to. She likes these little organized parts in their life, it helps to ground her because their life is never organized.

“Babe, you okay?” His eyes snach open when he realizes that she is there watching him. He turns his head suddenly, and it breaks all of the balance he so hardly acquired. She catches his wrist before his legs have a chance of slipping under him, now her own hand shaking with worry.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just-” he stops to take a shaky breath and the tightness of it goes through both of them, “everywhere is spinning. I tried to take the shampoo but my legs felt like they were splitting in two everytime I moved.”

He bows his head, almost feeling ashamed. He definitely knows what she will ask, so he answers without even letting her talk.

“I didn’t want to bother you, I know it was hard for you today already.” He is in front of her, in the position of a child that’s waiting to be grounded. Her heart aches for him, being this vulnerable in front of her, that he rarely did. He must be in a really bad condition, she realizes. So she tightens her grip on him to take him out. He feels cold and she doesn’t want him to risk getting sick, since he could now.

“You never bother me Barr,” she says in a bored manner. So many years, and he still fears that he is a burden for her.

He gets out, lets her wrap him in towels and dry him off, just trying not to fall between heavy breaths. This sight makes her even more worried -if that was even possible- and she augments her speed. She finds the most comfortable clothes for him, knowing that it aches when it hits his body. Then she helps him get to bed.

He slouches to the mattresses with a sigh, wincing in pain when his head hits the pillow. Iris wants to actually use a hairdryer, thinking that a damp hair would worsen the ache, but he seems exhausted.

“How bad is it?” She asks while lying next to him and trying to get much of the wetness from his hair with the towel still at hand. She doesn’t expect him to tell the truth, he never does, but he stays quiet, and that’s more than an answer she could ask for. He pushed himself so hard today, Cecile even told them afterwards that the stress she could feel from him was enormous. Cecile even tried to stop him for a minute, trying to calm him so he wouldn’t have a panic attack, but her fear for her significant other was far more grave. So she let him run with everything he had, and when things were okay again, when they were telling goodbye to Joe, she let him stay and watch protectively even though she could feel the pain coming from his hardly standing figure.

Iris doesn’t have to have Cecile’s powers to feel how much he’s suffering, she never had to. She always knew Barry in and out, and even though she was in love with every single piece of him, all she wanted to do was to stop his hurting. It was generally psychological in the first 25 years of his life but after becoming the Flash, psychological pain morphed with tremendous physical pain. It was always too much for anyone to bear.

She just held him closer and hoped that he would sleep. He cling onto her heart's warmth and let it replace the hotness of his electricity that’s abandoning him. His head found its way to her belly and he just kept on breathing steadily with her until he managed to lose consciousness. Tomorrow was going to be harder, they knew that, but at least in that moment and every moment in between every breath, they had each other.

Thanks for taking the time to read! My second fanfic ever. Just a week away from season 7 yay! Please let me know what you think!

#barry allen #barry and iris #westallen fanfic #westallen #iris west #iris west allen #grant gustin #candice patton #fanfiction #fanfic #the flash #hurt/comfort

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