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psychewritesbs · 3 years

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Chapter 160: How much of Yuji’s life has been orchestrated? + Megumi the stage-five clinger

Happy JJK-Sunday!

If I had to describe chapter 160 with as few words as possible, I would say: Oh f*ck...

My favorite moment was, of course, Megumi acting like a stage-five clinger. His interaction with Yuji in this chapter is especially ominous in light of Yuji being adamant of protecting Megumi from Sukuna.

A second favorite was Sasaki showing up in this chapter because of the implications moving forward.

Let’s jump right in.

How much of Yuji’s life has been orchestrated by Kenjaku?

We start the chapter with Kenjaku talking to none other than Sasaki, one of the members of the Occult Club at the high school in Sendai that Yuji used to attend.

Of course, the bomb that Gege dropped on us in this chapter is when Kenjaku thanks Sasaki “for getting along with my son”.

Like... excuse you?

Not only does this 100% confirm that Kenjaku used Yuji’s mother’s body to give birth to him, but this specific moment + some foreshadowing from previous chapters also opens an interesting can of worms about Yuji’s life: just how much of Yuji’s life has Kenjaku orchestrated?

For me, the implication is that Sasaki had an assigned role to play in Yuji’s life that would inevitably lead to him eating Sukuna’s finger.

I am assuming this because although we don’t see Kenjaku’s interactions with the other people in Sendai, we get to see that, in addition for thanking her for getting along with Yuji, Kenjaku is incredibly kind to Sasaki. We also learn that she’s the only one who has received a special message from him (thanking her).

Ready to make this whole interaction more ominous? Someone pointed out that the kanji in Sasaki’s name means assistant.

All of this brings us right back to Yuji’s free will--or lack thereof?

We already know that Kenjaku claims he made Yuji “ingest” Sukuna’s finger and that Megumi is rightfully concerned with this idea because he witnessed Yuji eat Sukuna’s finger “of his own free will.”

It’s also becoming increasingly obvious that Yuji was "created” solely for the purpose of becoming Sukuna’s vessel.

What this new reveal about Sasaki does is that it makes everything feel like certain events have been part of Kenjaku’s master plan all along. While this still feels a little farfetched, it will come down to how Gege works this idea into the story moving forward.

Come to think of it, even Yuji’s grandfather’s dying words to Yuji take on a new meaning since we know Wasuke knew something was definitively up with Yuji’s mother.

Another possible bit of foreshadowing all the way in chapter 1: While the intersection in the second panel below could be ANY intersection in Japan, it sure looks like the Shibuya crossing:

A quick note on the importance of kanji meanings in JJK before moving onto the next section: knowing the meaning of Sasaki’s name tells us that names are important in JJK. If you haven’t, I recommend you read my break down on the meaning of Megumi’s FULL NAME. His first name is important, but so is his last name.

The plans moving forward

Going off to Tokyo Colony #2 are Panda and Hakari.

As the strongest, Hakari feels like he should take on Hajime. As for Panda, it looks like his focus will be on hunting down Angel.

Side note: I love that Hakari is still calling Megumi names. Guess Senpai can’t help himself.

I must admit I was disappointed to find that Kirara will stay behind to report, but it is what it is. I am assuming Gege could see no use for Kirara and decided to leave the character out of the action for the time being.

As for Megumi and Yuji, they’ll be heading to Tokyo Colony #1 to target Higuruma, everybody’s new favorite Law & Order boss.

This brings us to Megumi’s current state of mind...

Megumi the stage-five clinger

I had a hard time coming up with the title for this section because what I see happening is that Megumi is starting to feel the pressure of the looming deadline for Tsumiki joining the Culling Game. What his behavior shows, however, is that he needs Yuji with him and is clinging onto him but won’t come out and say it--opting instead for aggression towards Yuji, the very same person he needs most.

His behavior reminded me of how Megumi could be mean to Tsumiki even though he clearly adores her. Apparently that’s the meaning of being tsundere. I’ve read about the term tsundere before but it never “clicked” until this moment and I just love Gege’s interpretation of the trope through Megumi’s character.

It goes without saying that it was REALLY interesting to me to see Megumi’s dynamic and interaction with Yuji in this chapter because it looks like Gege is letting us know Megumi’s state of mind continues to be one of desperation--remember that dogeza bow from chapter 157?

The thing about Megumi is that he looks stoic on the outside, but he’s actually an incredibly emotional person who doesn’t often show how he’s feeling.

I hadn’t caught on, but in chatting with @justafrenchlondoner about the chapter, they pointed out Megumi’s behavior in his dynamic with Yuji appears nervous and aggressive.

Upon a second look I have to agree that Megumi is acting out of character and aggressive with Yuji when all that Yuji really wants is to protect Megumi from Sukuna.

And yes, let me go ahead and sound like a broken record as I remind you of Yuji’s rather ominous words from chapter 143 yet again:

And this is the part of the chapter that knocked the air out of me: Megumi telling Yuji to stfu about Sukuna but Yuji thinking to himself “as long as I’m around you will suffer” back in ch143 is so damn ominous.

Oh f*ck...

But this is what REALLY gets me about this whole interaction and why I’m calling Megumi a stage-five clinger...

Even though Megumi is calling Yuji selfish, in reality, the one being selfish is Megumi.

This is, of course, my own interpretation of the situation, but to me it feels as though Megumi is clinging onto Yuji’s strength for dear life.

It’s almost like Megumi needs not just Yuji’s physical strength, but also his unwavering conviction or mental strength.

If you think about it, Megumi has only recently started fighting to win. Remember how unsure he was of himself when fighting Sukuna for the first time? It wasn’t until he went up against the Cursed Spirit from the Yasohachi bridge that he let go of his inhibitions.

Megumi’s battles during Shibuya were the pinnacle of his growth as a character in that moment. If I remember correctly, according to the timeline of events, the Shibuya incident happened around two weeks prior to the current chapter. You could say that although he is more comfortable in his strength than before, Megumi is still growing into his strength at this point.

The thing about Megumi is that everybody and their Divine Dog believes in him and sees his potential except for him. As Gojo tells him “you undervalue yourself.”

Looking back, the way Megumi asks begs Yuji for help in chapter 143 is very enlightening of how Megumi needs Yuji’s strength:

I initially had read this to mean Megumi needed Yuji’s physical strength. Upon second look, however, Megumi has always seemed to have admiration for Yuji’s conviction.

With the looming deadline for Tsumiki’s vow to join the Culling Game, as Megumi starts to feel the pressure to make his plan work, who better to keep around than the person who will always go for the home run and whose strength he admires?

In other words, like hell he’s going to let Yuji leave his side. Which, again, only makes it more heartbreaking to think Sukuna is up to no good regarding Megumi and Yuji wants to protect him from that.

Oh f*ck.......

The panel below feels like a bit of a lighthearted and comical moment, but it’s also interesting to note that this is the second time they “fight”.

The first “fight” having taken place during the Cursed Womb Arc.

If you will remember, Gege used the Cursed Womb Arc and the Origin of Obedience Arc to show us how much our favorite trio had grown.

Not sure Gege is going to parallel something here again, but just interesting to note.

Oh f*ck...

Ya, please excuse the French.

Despite the many words I’ve shared here, this chapter left me mostly speechless.

I feel like I’ve been trapped in Gojo’s limitless domain expansion and all I can think is “oh f*ck” or “halloween” (if you catch my drift).

Chapter 160 was incredible because it looks like Gege has finally finished putting all his pieces into place and is ready to go for the kill by:

Starting to unravel the story bit by bit, giving us all of the twists we both saw and did not see coming, and

Ramping up the stakes. Taking into consideration the estimates that JJK is somewhere around 60-70% done at this point, It’s not a matter of whether some of our beloved characters will die, but about who, when and how they will die

One last detail

I love the last four panels of the chapter showing Panda, Hakari, Yuji and Megumi all wearing their uniforms (barring Panda) and getting ready to become official participants of the Culling Game by entering their respective barriers.

Knowing that Gege is a very talented artist capable of showing and expressing emotions through his art, I feel like these panels tell us a lot about what the characters might be thinking and I thought I’d expand on that.

Bear in mind this is my personal interpretation as an artist:

Panda looks excited and ready to fight, perhaps even confident. Panda is saying “bring it!” with his body language

There’s a hint of something I can’t describe in Hakari’s face. It’s almost like he’s coming face to face against how big of a challenge this is going to be and yet he’s resolved to walk straight into “the depths of hell itself”

Yuji looks focused, determined to go in and give it his best no matter what comes his way--that’s just who he is

And then there’s Megumi. I’ve been drawing Megumi recently, and one thing I noticed is that he has very specific micro-expressions. In his panel, he’s warming up his wrists as though he’s getting ready to fight, he has a focused look on his face, but the shadows around his eyes say he might be feeling like he is carrying the heavy burden of the uncertainty surrounding the situation he’s going through

With all that being said... the Culling Game is officially starting and we’re in for a one-way ride straight to hell.

Thank you for reading and happy JJK-Sunday!

What about you? What did you enjoy most about chapter 160?

#fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #yuji itadori #itadori yuuji #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen manga #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #god i love jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujutsu kaisen theory #jjk ch 160 #gege akutami #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #hakari kinji #jjk meta #jjk theory

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silver-venus · 3 years

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Honey, I Shrunk Your Boyfriend

You went to Star Labs to see Cisco when he got shrunk.

Pairing: Reader x Cisco

It had been the longest three days of your life. You’d been at a seminar out of town and you were so ready to be home with Cisco that when you were offered an earlier flight you’d jumped on it. Cisco had offered to breach you there and back but there was something you always liked about the hustle and bustle of airports. The only downside was that it put you back in Central City in the middle of the day meaning Cisco would still be at Star Labs. You told the taxi driver to take you to Star Labs and ignored the questioning look he gave you. You wanted to surprise your boyfriend as he wasn’t expecting you back until the next morning.

When the car pulled up outside the building, the driver turned to you and asked, “You sure this is the place, lady? You know this place is dangerous, right?” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“I think I can handle it,” you said, handing the driver some cash and grabbing your overnight bag.

As you emerged from the elevator, you made a bee line for Cisco’s lab. You weren’t sure if he was in there, but you could stash your bag there until you went home. Upon entry, you didn’t see him right away.

“Cisco?” you called to be sure. Nothing. You tossed your bag in the corner and made to look for him elsewhere when you heard a tiny clatter. Swinging back around, you looked around the room and heard a tiny squeaking noise. You followed the sound further into the room and realized it was coming from the Lego set they’d used to map out Savatar and Iris last year.

Making your way over to it, you leaned down to find the source of the noise when you spotted Cisco. “Aw! Cisco made a little figurine of himself,” you said mostly to yourself.

“I’m not a figurine. It’s me!” he said, waving his arms. You jumped back a little. That had been the source of the squeaking noise.

“Cisco?” you asked in disbelief. This had to be one of his stupid pranks. “How?” you asked, still thinking it was a tiny robot or something.

“I got shrunk by a meta,” he said, scrubbing his hands over his face.

You let that information sink in before letting your heard fall down, your hair obscuring your face.

Cisco panicked thinking you were upset. “It’s fine, babe. Harry and Caitlin are on it. I’ll be back to normal in no time,” he’d said hastily in his new high pitched voice.

Your shoulders gave a jerk and he realized, “Oh my god! Are you laughing?” he demanded. This only sent you into a fit of uncontrollable giggles and you had to turn your back to him to try and compose yourself.

Once you were under control and able to keep a straight face again you turned around to find him looking extremely displeased. “I’m sorry, honey,” you said, placing an open hand in front of Cisco. He climbed on with a huff and you lifted him up. “You just look so cute like this.”

He huffed again and shook his head, “This is so humiliating,” he pushed his hair back before crossing his arms again.

“It’s like you said. Caitlin and Harry are on the case. You’ll be back to normal in no time,” you said reassuringly.

You heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Caitlin holding a tiny Ralph in her palm. “Ralph too?” you asked.

She looked startled for a moment then nodded. “When did you get back?” she asked.

“Just a few minutes ago. I caught an earlier flight and wanted to surprise this one, but nothing is more surprising than this,” you said, holding Cisco a little higher.

His arms were still crossed over his chest and you had to bite your lip to not laugh again. You and Caitlin set them both back on the Lego set together and stood back as they began to bicker.

“Give it to me straight,” you whispered. “What are the odds of getting this reversed?” You didn’t want to admit that this was really freaking you out inside. It wouldn’t do you or Cisco any good to show how worried you were.

Caitlin put an hand on your arm and steered you further into the room out of earshot. “Harry’s on it. This only happened a few hours ago. Don’t lose hope,” she assured, you nodded.

You kept Cisco and Ralph company while Harry and Caitlin came up with a solution. Cisco asked how the seminar went, and Ralph pretended to punch himself as you described the different panels.

“Don’t be rude to my girlfriend, Ralph,” Cisco snarked and you listened in amusement at their quarrel.

It wasn’t long before Harry came in with the modified speed force bazooka and you were concerned to say the least. “You haven’t tested that thing and now you’re going to shoot it at my boyfriend?” you asked incredulously.

Harry waved a hand dismissively and Cisco piped up offering himself up as a test subject.

“I can’t watch this,” you said, turning around with a hand over your eyes. You heard the tell tale buzzing sound of the machine and turned back around, peaking towards the lego set between your fingers. You watched as Cisco and Ralph both vibrated for a moment and stopped, both still very much small. You leveled a glare at Harry who avoided your gaze.

You paced in the cortex as Caitlin ran her tests and occasionally threw annoyed glances at the brooding man from Earth-2. When Caitlin came back and told you that Cisco was unstable you lost it on Harry. You rattled off a speech that ended with your index finger in the older man’s face and, “you’d better fix this,” as Iris pulled you out of the room. You took a moment to compose yourself before re-entering Cisco’s lab. You couldn’t ever hide your emotions from him though so he knew instantly that something was wrong.

“He made us unstable didn’t he?” Cisco asked. Your silence told him everything.

You sat in the chair next to the Lego set and propped your elbows on the table, smiling sadly as miniature Cisco put a tiny hand on your arm to comfort you even though you were here to comfort him.

It was some time later Harry came back with the solution to put Cisco and Ralph back in the line of fire to fix them. You didn’t like the idea, but it was apparently better than anything else they’d thought of.

“I’m coming with you,” you said quickly.

“No, no way,” Cisco protested, you swung around and glared at his tiny form. He sighed, “Babe, this guy is dangerous. Please, just let us fix this, and I will come home to you good as new. I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt,” he pleaded and sounded so pathetic with his tiny squeaky voice that you gave in without a fight.

You lifted Cisco in your hand once more and let him kiss you on the cheek, it tickled more than anything, and passed him off to Harry. You set another glare at Harry knowing that your anger was slightly misplaced, but you were too worried about the outcome of all of this to care. Cisco looked up in amusement at the grimace on Harry’s face under your fiery gaze.

You were pacing a hole in the Star Labs concrete floor the entire time they were gone. More than once you’d almost changed your mind about staying back and went after them, but you knew there wasn’t much you could do except get in the way or get yourself hurt. You weren’t a meta and battles weren’t exactly in your wheelhouse. You tended to freeze in panic which had caused more than one occurrence of Barry or Cisco having to save your ass since you'd joined the team. You shook your head and paced some more and wondered what the hell could be taking so long.

You were in the cortex when you heard voices from the hall and turned to see Cisco in all his 5′7″ glory. You ran into his arms and he caught you with an exaggerated groan and a laugh, lifting you several inches off the ground. You spotted Harry over Cisco’s shoulder and mouthed a silent ‘thank you.’ The older man gave a nod.

Once the two of you were home, Cisco let you fuss over him as he told you how the battle went. You laughed when Cisco told the part about breaching into Harry’s pocket.

“When we got back to Star Labs, Harry made me walk in first. He thought if you saw him first you would assume mission failure and murder him on the spot,” he said in amusement, giving you a playful accusatory look.

“He wasn’t wrong,” you admitted. You then remembered why you’d been so mad at the older man and promptly smacked Cisco on the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” he exclaimed, rubbing his bicep where you’d struck him.

“For letting Harry fire a weapon at you without testing it first,” you said sharply, crossing your arms over your chest.

Cisco’s face softened and he wrapped his arms around your waist. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.” He kissed your forehead and then captured your lips.

You pulled away after several moments slightly out of breath. “Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, feigning genuine concern, “Maybe I should double check.”

Cisco sighed, “Caitlin checked me over. I’m good, I promise,” he said, not getting it yet.

“Well,” you said, trailing a finger down his chest to the top of his waistband, “I don’t think she checked everything.”

Cisco’s mouth fell into an ‘oh.’ “Yeah, you better check that,” he said hastily, pulling you behind him. You laughed all the way to the bedroom.

#cisco x reader #cisco ramon x reader #the flash #vibe x reader #cisco ramon imagines #drabble #one shot

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moonbaby26 · 3 years

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Title: Sleepover

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from previous chapter. After getting Peter back to his house in D.C., he asks you to spend the night. You want to, but you’re also worried about what his mother and his twin sister Wanda may really think of you. As you and Peter get a little more time alone, you also wonder how far you’re ready to go yourself.

Warnings: Nothing more than kissing really in this chapter. Bit of awkwardness from Reader though not knowing what they really want or how to go about it yet.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen , @ikkleroniekins , @cowboyenorgy , @the-chaotic-cow

My Masterlist

——————————

“Anyway, can we argue inside at least? (Y/N) promised to call Xavier when we got here.” Peter piped up, trying to shuffle away from his mother at last.

At the sudden sound of your name though, you felt an added bit of nervousness. You also made eye contact with Peter’s mother for the very first time then, as if she’d only just realized you were there.

Peter’s sister Wanda was also looking back at you with question in her face as well at the reveal of your name. But you said nothing yet, just walking up to hand Peter his crutches.

You purposefully busied yourself turning right back around too, getting that jacket he’d stolen on the plane out from the back of the car as well for him. The sunglasses he already had still on top of his head.

So then, the only other things left in the car were the meager amount of clothes you’d bought for yourself. Which you didn’t need right now as you walked back to the others, carrying his jacket. But really pretty unsure yourself if you were even going to be invited inside for long at all.

“Come on, I’ll show you where the phone is,” Peter spoke again though, either oblivious to the increasing awkwardness for everyone else or just ignoring it entirely as he motioned for you to follow him back up the steps and through the still open front door.

—————————

As you were unfolding the little piece of paper with the motel address and phone number from out of your pocket, you tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The corded phone was propped against your shoulder to rest against your ear, you now standing there in the Maximoffs’ small kitchen. But even as you started to dial the numbers, half your attention was still on whatever Peter was now rapidly saying to his family.

“Yeah, (Y/N) goes to that school. You know I just went there to go ask about Dad since they know him. But then there’s this explosion, and I had to pull everybody out. And all the sudden this mutant god is apparently attacking the world and he took Xavier. But then the government shows up like dolts thinking Xavier’s doing it instead. And they take us to question us, but they’ve got some evil experiment shit going on in there too-”

He only took the smallest breath, continuing at that accelerated pace. “And they had that other guy, remember him, Mom? Logan? Anyway, so he breaks out and wrecks the place, so we get out and I get (Y/N), then we find out where Xavier is so we go to get him. We’re in Egypt and we all fight and that god dude breaks my leg. But he’s trying to make Dad help him, but Dad turns on him and-”

“Hello?” You heard someone on the other end of the line finally answer at the motel. You could still hear Peter rattling on excitedly behind you though, your name peppered into his story several more times as you just answered back on the phone.

“Hi, is there a Charles Xavier checked in there? I need to ring his room please.”

There was a long pause where you could only keep standing there, just looking at the kitchen wall and the bit of older panelling that covered it before the phone finally started ringing again.

Peter was now already talking about the aircraft carrier and your stay there by the time you heard the receiver pick up again.

“This is Charles.”

“Hi…hey, it’s me.” You answered with some relief.

You could hear the quick recognition in the Professor’s own voice as you didn’t have to say your name before he gladly responded. “Ah, good. You made it with no trouble then? We checked in here a while ago. I’m in room 104 if you’d need to call back. Are you leaving now to drive back?”

You tried to commit the room number to memory even as you were already replying. “Yeah, it wasn’t a bad drive. We just got here a minute ago. I-”

“Yo, Prof.!” Peter interjected, surprisingly at your side abruptly, also speaking into the phone then. “We’re barely in the door. I was going to show (Y/N) around a bit. That cool? Pretty jet lagged anyway. Probably be safer to crash on the couch tonight and have (Y/N) head your way in the morning, right?”

You blinked, for one thing not even having heard Peter stop talking to his family. But two, he was really saying you should sleep here? Not just joking around anymore? Could he even decide that on his own?

You felt frozen in that moment, not wanting to look back towards the kitchen at all and whatever surprised expressions his mother and sister may now also have on their faces.

The pause on the other end of the line was very noticeable as well before Xavier eventually continued. Peter shimmied even closer to you so he could also put his ear almost against the phone as you turned it slightly for him.

“Peter, I appreciate you looking out for everyone’s best interests and safety,” The Professor answered then, but with that tone which said he clearly doubted that was the speedster’s true or only reasoning. “But I would think that’d be more for your mother to-”

“Mom!” Peter turned his head back, rather loud in your ear as you flinched a little. “Can (Y/N) sleep on the couch? I mean you hate it when Wanda drives late by herself. Same thing right? It’s a long drive back to New York. What self respecting mom is just going to throw anybody’s kid out into the night like that, huh?”

You were tired, yes. It’d already been a very long day of traveling. But you weren’t that helpless. You were pretty sure you’d be fine. This was so weird though. Standing here in silence while someone else bargained for you. Was he really just trying to extend your time together however he could?

“I don’t care, Peter.” You just heard a rather exasperated answer though from Magda after another moment. “You’re going to do whatever you want anyway. Why even ask me anymore?”

The tension from their argument in the driveway clearly remained, or maybe this was how it always was between them? You couldn’t know yet, just caught in the middle it seemed as Peter only took that as good enough, talking back into the phone quickly, “Mom says it’s cool.”

You heard a sigh on the other end, and Xavier replied, “You’re old enough, I don’t have much say myself. But do call me again when you are leaving so we know when you’re back on the road, agreed?”

“Yes.” You said, pulling the phone more back to you then. “I’ll definitely let you know. Please tell the others I’m okay. I’ll see you all soon.”

After that, you and the Professor both told each other goodnight, and that was it. You hung the phone back up, but not yet sure what you’d really gotten yourself into as you glanced back at Peter. Peter who was now outright grinning from ear to ear.

“So…Chuck Norris or Bruce Lee? Movie night?” He asked you.

But what else could you do? You didn’t mind getting the chance at a little more time together of course. You just weren’t sure about how much anyone else actually wanted you here in this house tonight.

——————————

Not long after, whatever deeper discussions still loomed in the air about Peter’s choices of chasing his estranged father straight into a near death experience with a genocidal mutant god appeared shelved. At least for now anyway.

You’d seen Magda grab some sort of drink. Resigning herself to an armchair and the living room television as she seemed to ignore you all then, even as Peter remained almost bubbly while the two of you started down the basement stairs to his room.

You really hadn’t seen where Wanda had gone, but Peter just kept talking. So your focus only returned to him as you both cleared the last step at the bottom of the staircase. You behind him as you carried his crutches, then handing them back to him as you entered the room.

“And voila, man cave de Pietro!” He announced, waving an arm out towards the space.

You weren’t sure why you’d expected something smaller either. Of course most basements sprawled out to take up near the whole bottom footprint of a house. But this was still large to you, and clearly well used.

There were things everywhere. More than just a room obviously. No, this was his life, his hideaway. The more you looked, the more things you saw. Bicycles, guitars, comic books, band posters, all pieces of his hobbies and likes scattered about.

But there was furniture as well. A little table, some chairs, was this always where he ate too? There was a big sectional couch, the cushions indented a little like he may have a favorite spot there.

You didn’t miss the expensive looking television as well, and the VHS player. All the tapes, and the nintendo and the atari, the record player, a stereo, and boxes of games, cassettes, and music records.

And his bed was near in the center of it all, much wider than one person should need and almost right on the ground as he just fell back onto it sending a noticeable wave across the sheets. A waterbed clearly. But you just laughed a little, still a bit amazed. “You really do live here in the true sense of the word don’t you?”

“Hey, I make do. Home sweet home.” He smirked, but also raised an eyebrow at you not long after. “So you didn’t even notice the table back there did you?”

At his words you did look back over your shoulder with a little confusion. But you started to smile as soon as you realized what he was talking about. An air hockey table back around the corner. Some clutter on top of it like it hadn’t been used in a while, but it was clear he remembered your arcade favorites to point it out like he was.

“I figured I’d try to keep that a surprise until now…you know, since our arcade date might be a little postponed for the moment. So uh, surprise?” He said, laying back on his bed as he put his arms behind his head, still watching you.

“I did see the Ms. Pac-Man.” You replied, motioning to the more obvious machine right against the wall. No wonder he’d said he was pretty good at that one.

“Yeah, I used to have Pong too. Wore it out though. And got tired of trying to find parts to fix it.”

“Oh, I could see that happening.” Sure, he probably played everything with a little super speed. Though imagining him somehow ‘shoplifting’ a whole arcade machine whenever he needed another one was a bit interesting. How did that even work?

“So, uh…you want me to put a movie on for real? I was trying to get us out of that kitchen before Mom went off again. But we can do whatever. You know…whatever you want?” He spoke, albeit maybe a little oddly as you glanced to him again.

He almost sounded a touch nervous with those last words? The slight change in tone was enough for you to catch anyway as you did walk over to the bed regardless before sitting down on the edge of it beside him.

But it was strange here, the more you considered everything. It was hard to explain really. Because how many countless times had you sat in your friends’ rooms at the mansion? Guys or girls, just talking or playing games or whatever. Just hanging out as you supposed most all people your age did. But there was never anything weird, never anything uncomfortable.

It could even be late at night sometimes, some of you only half dressed in your sleep shirts or pajamas and no one thought anything about it. Because you just knew back then that no one thought of you as anything but a friend too.

But with Peter…being here now, you were suddenly acutely aware that you were sitting on his bed. In his room, as he seemed to be waiting for some sort of guidance from you as well. Was that why he sounded nervous?

Yet had Crystal ever been here too you wondered. Sitting just where you were sitting now? And why would you think of such a stupid thing in this very moment?

“Hey.” Peter said gently, causing you to look down as you felt his fingers graze your wrist after he moved his arm to reach out.

You smiled a little at the contact, but still felt kind of foolish. There was no point in trying to play it cool though as you confessed the current reason for your own awkwardness at least. “I guess I just didn’t expect to be in anybody’s room like this. It’s not bad, it’s just…”

“Different?” He asked, helping you out a little to your surprise.

“Yeah.” You answered simply. But you could see as another emotion seemed to pass briefly through his expression, furthering your bit of confusion.

Was that guilt on his face?

And he spoke a little abruptly, with that rarer more serious tone emerging even though the words came fairly quick. “You know I was still just giving you a hard time right? I’m cool going as slow as we need. Despite being the fastest dude alive and all, I don’t have to be the fastest guy in bed. That’d royally suck actually. For both of us. So don’t feel like there are some sort of rules here. Like, you do not have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

You blinked, those words not what you were expecting. But it wasn’t bad at all the more you got to consider them. Was he really so worried that you may think he was trying to get something from you here that you weren’t yet ready to give?

Honestly, you didn’t even know yourself what you were ready for though. “Really, it’s okay.” You replied truthfully. “I’m not uncomfortable. I think I’m still in disbelief is all. I never would have thought this is how my summer would start this year. Never in a million years.”

He sat up, smiling again then with his normal tone bouncing back fairly easily. “And I am totally coming over for a pool party, as soon as this damned cast is off. I mean I’m white as shit so people may have to avert their eyes. But we would totally wreck the others in some volleyball or something. I know we would. As long as Jean doesn’t cheat with the telekinesis crap. I could do some whirlpools too you know, knock ‘em off their feet.”

“Sounds safe.” You said, laughing at the image. Maybe living in some random motel for the foreseeable future wouldn’t be so bad after all?

He chuckled in return, but was cut off by another voice just before he started to speak again.

“Knock knock.”

You both looked up toward the stairs as you first saw a pair of black boots coming down them. Black boots, old jeans, and a dark red t-shirt.

Peter called back, straightening up a little more at the sight. “Hey, sis. Fun run out upstairs with Mom and Dynasty on the tube or what?”

“Well, it was an Alexis and Dominique Deveraux battle episode, actually.” Wanda answered a little regretfully.

“Aw, your favorite catfight duo! Why the exit then?” Peter questioned in return.

She gave Peter a slight accusatory look. “Well, you got Mom in a mood and she wanted to talk about my school next. She wanted to and I didn’t. Simple as that.”

“Well…actually I thought you’d still be at your dorm too really. Not that I’m complaining. Haven’t seen you in forever. Your classes get cancelled?” He asked.

“Well, when the metal roof got pulled off the main assembly hall, I think they decided to err on the side of caution.” She responded, rather deadpan.

“Understandable. You think you’ll still go back in the fall?” Peter questioned anyway.

“Don’t know. I haven’t really liked anything about that college yet. But I said I didn’t want to talk about it remember?” Her tone wasn’t cold to him, but still rather final.

He clearly wasn’t as intimidated by her as you were though as he didn’t miss a beat. “Well how about a movie with us? Me and (Y/N) were about to pick something.”

How true that statement was on Peter’s part, you weren’t really sure. But you still said nothing as Wanda just moved to sit on the other edge of the bed, almost as far from you as could be you noted. But Peter still between the both of you as she looked unimpressed. “Can it be something a little less bloody than your usual at least?”

He scoffed, teasing back. “Well I don’t keep your Bewitched and I Dream of Jeannie box sets down here you know.”

“Oh shut up.” Wanda retorted, but it was the first time you’d seen her really smirk. Though the siblings were clearly very different, that expression was also a brief resemblance you couldn’t miss.

“Wanda’s a bit of a sitcom connoisseur.” Peter commented for your benefit.

You took the chance to make eye contact with her at that, thinking that might be your in to finally start a real conversation. But she only looked away. If Wanda was unfriendly with strangers period, or actually just disliked you specifically, it was hard to know yet.

“Just pick something.” She finally replied to Peter though. “If I go back through the living room to try to go to my room right now, Mom’s just going to try and start an interrogation again.”

—————————

Hours later

“Hey, you keep moving around. Do you want a pillow?” Peter’s voice drifted from above.

You were pretty disoriented, for one strange moment just staring up at him and clueless to where you even were before your senses returned a little.

The sunlight was gone then. The only real light flickering from the television nearby that was now on some movie you didn’t remember the name of as you sat back up a little on his bed. Was this the third movie he’d put in? You hadn’t lasted very long at all had you?

“I can get on the couch,” You offered, awake enough then to at least remember his mother and sister were still around here somewhere. Though, when had Wanda left? You didn’t see her anymore and you didn’t even know what time it was.

“Seems kind of unnecessary,” Peter replied, in a quieter tone that caught your attention as you paused.

Was he inferring that you should just get under the blankets right here? With him? But sharing the bunk on the aircraft carrier wasn’t the same as being in his literal bed. Here in his family’s home where they already seemed to be rather distant with you at best.

They didn’t know you here. You had to remind yourself of that. They couldn’t know you didn’t spend the night at boys’ houses as habit. You didn’t get in their beds with them upon just meeting. Honestly, you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d slept somewhere besides the now destroyed mansion.

“Peter…” You didn’t know how to convey that concern really. You did want Magda and Wanda to like you eventually if you were being honest. You wanted them to understand. But you wanted Peter to understand too. Even though he’d said he was fine taking things as slow as you wanted, you felt it would still be all too easy to make him feel rejected without meaning to if you weren’t careful.

“I mean, we could both fit on my couch down here too,” He added, so close then that you were sure he was waiting for you to cross the rest of the small distance and kiss him.

And how could staring at each other in the dark, with the muffled sounds of some badly dubbed kung fu movie in the background now be bordering on romantic for you? Somewhere in the back of your mind you did think of all those stereotypical movie scenes all of the sudden. Two young people just in their own world, oblivious to all else.

“I don’t know if I’ve made the best impression on your family yet.” You tried to explain. “If I’m still in this bed with you the next time one of them comes down here…there is no way they’re going to believe we only watched movies and slept tonight.”

He tilted his head a little, yet already smiling. “And you assume they think someone like you would be that physically attracted to someone that looks and acts like me?”

“I do…and I am.” You answered though. Not trying to lead him on, but unable to help yourself either then as you did close that small distance to kiss him. You still disliked anytime he made those comments about somehow being underserving. He was far from it.

The little bit of tension you felt in return told you he was surprised too, but that quickly faded of course as he only pressed into it to kiss you back.

You had no intention of going too far or taking advantage of his family’s allowing you to stay here tonight however. It wouldn’t be right.

But you were still young as well, and it’d be a lie to say it didn’t feel good as he touched your face and your own hand moved onto his chest. It was something too how quickly the heat rose inside you. You could feel the outline of his body through his shirt as your hand trailed down.

He was warm, his abdomen firm against your moving hand. You kissed him harder actually as his own hand moved back behind your neck. But you needed to stop soon, either that or he needed to wear thicker clothing as your hand wandered further.

It was him that surprised you to finally pull back first though. Yet smiling at you again as he kept his face close.

Your breathing had already changed a little as you looked back to him before he glanced down. He raised an eyebrow at your hand now resting on the waistband of his shorts.

Realizing what he was looking at, you pulled your hand away, apologizing reflexively. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to…” Your mind fumbled a little. Your hand had just been running down. There was no real intent behind it, despite how it looked.

“You’re so funny. Seriously.” He said in that slight tone of amusement though. “Jumping out a plane one day, ready to sacrifice yourself samurai warrior style for your buddies, brave as shit.” He tilted his head, before then enclosing his hand around yours that you’d just pulled back. “But here you get flustered? I’m just a guy, (Y/N). Total nobody. There’s nothing to apologize for. Though I still don’t get it at all. I mean, why you like me like you do.”

“But you admit it then at least?” You tried to counter back, instead of arguing against his very real point that a new relationship could be more intimidating to you than a battlefield. “You admit that I like you. Instead of just telling me I’m making a mistake?”

“Yeah, I mean I guess even I can’t really make up a story of why you’d choose to drive all the way back to New York by yourself instead of bringing one of your friends here with you…unless you really wanted to be one on one with me.” But he just smirked once more, leaning in again to steal a quick additional kiss before pulling back away. “Guess you’re just that nuts.”

“Thanks.” You joked back.

“Takes one to know one.” He answered tauntingly, then sliding off the bed a little awkwardly as he put his feet back on the floor, albeit trying to only put weight on his good leg.

He didn’t have to go far though to reach a nearby closet, pulling a large blanket from it. He wadded it up a little, then tossing it to you. “Since you’re being modest though, you can sleep with Optimus Prime and Megatron tonight. But here, take one of my pillows too.”

In the dark, you couldn’t really make out what was on the blanket. Some sort of characters. You’d just have to take his word on it being Transformers before you caught the pillow that he threw to you next.

“As far as which couch you sleep on, your call. But Wanda always gets up, classic insomniac. I don’t think you want to tempt her with the opportunity to peek into your head if you stay in the living room. She hasn’t met you for real yet and probably still wants the background deets on you.”

“She’s another psychic?” At first you couldn’t remember if he’d already told you that or not. But no, you definitely would have recalled that. Yet maybe this was better? You wouldn’t have to prove anything if she could just see the truth in your mind of how you felt for her brother.

But Peter waved his hand in a ‘so-so’ type gesture. “I don’t think labels really work well with my sister. Yeah, she can get in people’s heads. But she’s not like your friends. She’s her own deal. It’s different. There’s a lot more that she can do. I’m just saying I wouldn’t advise messing with her is all.”

Whatever concerned look you must have given then was enough for him to quickly continue though, “But I’ll work on her the whole time while you’re back in New York. She just doesn’t know you yet. It’ll be fine!”

“Uh huh.” You said, not so confidently. “Guess I’m sleeping on this couch then.”

“A wise choice I think.”

“Of course, you could just be saying all this to get me scared enough to stay down here.”

“Oh, it’s both of course.” He smiled, watching you lay down on the couch even as he got into his bed. “And if you get cold, babe. I’m just a few feet away you know.”

Even from here, you were pretty sure he winked at you as you wrapped yourself up in that blanket he’d given you and stretched out on his couch. “If I go over there, I’m not coming back over here and I know it.”

“Or I could come over there,” he offered, only half jokingly of course.

But you just laid your head on the pillow, knowing you were trying to do the right thing at least. “Not enough room for your leg. You’d be uncomfortable.”

“If you say so, killjoy.”

You only smiled. “Goodnight, Peter.”

“Night, Glo-Worm.” He responded happily.

“Ugh,” You’d hoped he’d forgotten that by now, but apparently not. “Really have to fix that. There’s got to be a better codename for me.”

“Well we can’t all be Quicksilver. Sorry, I called dibs.”

“And we can’t all choose our nicknames out of a department store display case either.” You retorted.

“Ouch. Touché.”

He didn’t tease you anymore after that, but you could still feel his gaze on you as you closed your eyes again not long after. He was close enough that you also felt safe, even here in this new environment.

It was going to be hard to leave tomorrow, that much was certain. But at least you’d also know what you’d have to look forward to as soon as his cast was off again.

Maybe the next time you two fell asleep under the same roof, it’d be in a more neutral territory where you wouldn’t have to worry about his mother or sister’s judgement. Then you could hold him just like you wanted to. And it would be well worth the wait.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

#quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #quicksilver #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x oc #quicksilver x oc #quicksilver xmen #xmen fic #x men fanfiction

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sjw-publishings · 3 years

Text

Retrospective Division

Josh and Henry walked hand in hand down the hallway, directly to the office in which they resided. The young men were in charge of small LGBTQ business in the building...only to be kicked out due to being too ‘liberal’, making room for tenants who were closer to his ‘Retrospective Vision’.

So much so, that the taller one had to voice it out.

“I’m...I’m going to send an email to the higher ups!” Josh spoke.

Josh Ming was the older of the two, only slightly older though at the age of 23. Fresh out of college and directly ready to start business with his newlywed husband.

Dressed in a pair of of white loafers with matching pair of beige khaki shorts, he wore a light blue buttoned polo underneath his pink checkered sweater vest with rainbow flag pin over his right breast...

Was that the final straw for the clearly conservative owner to kick them out after just a few months? If it was...

He scratched the back of his head, left palm messing with his wavy raven locks before briefly adjusting his rectangular half-frame specs. Something was real off...and he really wanted to get to the bottom of it.

This sudden rising passion of energy within him was also different, tightening his grip on his boyfriend, he would usually remain quiet and reserved, ignoring the such attitude towards them...but being kicked out? That really ticked him off.

“Honey, I like that attitude!”

Meanwhile, Henry was quite astonished by drive his husband was showing. Sure they both took turns in the bed and was Jeffery incredible when he was top, but he had never seen this side of him until today...

The 22 year old caucasian smiled, loving every bit of the drive from the other male, considering he was usually the one taking charge vocally.

Placing his right hand on his waist, swishing his hips in those pink bermudas while strutting in his own pair of slip-on, navy blue formal shoes that he recently got.

They had the right to dress liberally and freely, he would never sass directly-he and his boyfriend’s clothing says it all! With a matching light blue buttoned down-minus the sweater and throw in a white cardigan for variety.

Swooshing his blond curly locks, his sky blue eyes narrowed in admiration towards his partner, freckles rising with his cheekbones.

“Heh...must’ve gotten it from you~”

“Awww.”

In a matter of seconds, they reached the entrance to their office. They were told to pack up and go in the middle of the night, and with the full moon shining directly at them from a open window behind.

They immediately released the grip from the other as they walked in without question.

Not even realising that they won’t be holding the other this way when they come out.

————————————————————

As they entered, the room stayed mostly the same for now, with the only major difference, is that their desks are apart, parallel to one another.

Just like their formerly interlocked hands.

“Of course! the owner doesn’t support us working side by side directly!”

Josh noted, rolling his eyes as his tone got snappy. Folding his arms, not realising his lisp fading slightly with the remark.

“No worries hun, that just means I’d get a better look at you~”

He turned to his boyfriend, who looked lovingly at him at the side. At Eye level, re-assuring the other that everything will be alright. He blinked, did Henry just get taller all of a sudden? He definitely did not notice it earlier...must be the new shoes he was wearing.

“Right back at ya love~”

“Ooooh now there’s that attitude I love!”

PINCH!

“Oof!”

With that, Henry gave a tight pinch to his behind, smirking as he walked to his desk. Of course, it was far harder than usual, that tease. His husband liked to do that especially when he was happy, which was great when he was happy despite those remarks from the owner!

But something about the pinch...really set him off.

Playing it off, not noticing his larger steps as he strode to his side of the room. Legs stretching wide apart, feet grounded to the floor as he stood like a 1930s cartoon, except with more realistic proportions.

PLONK!

Landing butt first on his chair, he winced once again, he sat with more force than intended. Probably due to the aggression towards the owner, but wasn’t there supposed to be a cushion he and his husband brought from home on his-

Sleek Office chair, the modern kind without the comfort. Just pure professionalism like the way the owner demanded. Did that arse remove his-

Meanwhile Henry from across looked comfortable in his...’Chairman’s chair’. Like he was a higher up overseeing him, with a smug grin, but it was just cause he found him cute right?

“Sit up straight hun...wouldn’t want the owner to think otherwise.”

“Got it...! Thanks for reminding me!”

“No problem love...”

He responded quickly...though kind of irritated, he knew it was the owner’s policy too, about a ‘straight back leads a straight life’. He often made visits to everyone of his tenants or so he claims...especially them.

How ridiculous of a ‘motivational message’, though Jeff did like to keep his back straight for proper posture and presentation, not cause he was...

Anyways...what is with the fact that his fiancé is on a grand chair while he was stuck lookin’ like a subordinate. Sure Henry was slightly older...and taller than him, but the difference between them was huge.

He shouldn’t let that get to him...but its kind of pissing him off, specially with that smug grin on the older male’s face.

Mustering up all his professionalism, he spoke to the other male about their situation, holding in as much anger as he could.

“Say...how else do you think the owner expects us to behave?”

“Don’t know, probably...like him...”

Older days...yeah that sounds about right. Blinking, Josh watched as numerous LGBTQ posters and photos he framed up on his side taken down in an instant, replaced with framed photographs, mainly black and white of men and women in retro-esque attire.

But the main thing were the fact was there were only happy heterosexual couples in the wedding pictures that he took...where wuz’ all the gay ones huh?

Meanwhile, Henry’s side had the pictures reshaped into various expensive degrees and award certificates apparently. Josh wasn’t sure when his senior was such a stick in the arse and show off his life, but apparently its the reality they live in now.

Mixed with the wood panelling, their office walls split into two. With his fiancé’s side having a more polished grey shine to it...and his having wallpaper of grey rocks right behind him.

He was pissed, all his hard work gone to waste when the boss removed all his...stuff, doing renovations...Sure he kinda liked the new decor, always felt sturdy where he wuz at. But still it was his stuff!

Though then again, he also did help take some of those conference photos for the boss when he had met with several of his big league associates, a proof of skill he could use when advertising his talent to the boomers...

Whatevah! He was still goin’ to be typin’!

As he had started up his trendy PearPC, he blinked as the load in bar showed up. Tapping his fingers impatiently, not realising the shiny light weight frames becoming heavier and grounded as the quality of the pixels dropped tremendously with every second.

“Something is not right! And I’m gettin’ to the bottom of dis!”

“Whatever you say, hun...”

Rolling his eyes at his lover’s statement, the older male was not as passionate as he was when it comes to delivering the truth. Not fighting as hard as he was, whateva’!

He was doin’ it HIMSELF!

Rubbing his palms, as his ‘doorframe’ retro PC lit up, being an older model did not hinder his goal as he opened up the word processor and began typing away!

He was always a fast typer, especially when his grandpapy trained him when he was younger. Though that did not sound right? They didn’t have computers back in the day and age!

As Josh blinked, the digital letters seemed almost printed out the more he starred into them. As he continued typing on his keyboard, he didn’t notice the swiftness of his fingers as he crunched on the keys effortlessly, neither did he mind the metallic clicking sound with every syllable.

Precisely, rubbing his eyes, the glossy flow shifted into simple paper. Grinning to himself, retro it is! Right in front of em’, a policy that the boss really stood firm in his heart.

“Not that I mind, Chief.”

Muttering to himself, Joshon was raised by a highly conservative grandfather who drilled him in the importance of staying true to their values.

Not noticing with that remark, his rainbow flag pin stretched like taffy around his neck, solidifying into a black monotone neck tie as the collar of his Polo tee stiffened.

And folded down.

Sweater vest splitting into two, the sleeves merging with the polo as the vest thinned out. A long row of buttons trailed down the merged too, colour bleaching white into a straight, iron-pressed dress shirt.

Even though he was sorta queer, there was no way he’ll be outrightly pissing his grand-papy off! Folding his arms determinedly, as the pinkness of the remaining vest fabric faded to black, looping into straps with a big criss-cross over on his back.

SNAP! Wearing his suspenders with grey pride.

It didn’t really matter to him in the face of a scoop. Especially when it comes to whatever the owner of the establishment is doing, he was determined to write it like the reporter he was.

You can say, it was going to be the scoop of the century!

“Did you say something?”

Gohen got up from his throne, dressed in a thick black suit, with faint white checkered patterns all over, with the typical office dress shirt and matching tie he always wore.

Sauntering over to the reporter’s side of the room, possessively. The hispanic-caucasian stared at the pan-asian male...though its less so love and more so-

“What are you doing?”

But oh man, does he piss Joshon off.

Yeah they’ve been engaged, but the way he breathes down his neck makes the reporter sick. Arms toughening with strong toned biceps, as a healthy dusting of hair lined his forearms.

The roughness the two exhibited even in bed was less out of love and more so...pent up frustration, especially lately. No matter how the conversation went, its just conflict after conflict.

“I’m just typing away the new article, lovah!”

His lover’s been clinging onto em’ again. Examinin him like a piece of meat, even though they just get engaged recently...though it was more so the lawyer’s idea rather than Joshon’s.

Tied down to another guy like that, even that was too gay for his liking.

“Why don’tcha just-TALK TO ME?”

“I AM TALKIN’ TO YA!”

He was so ANGRY with his lover, getting up, hands pressing against the other...and with a-

PUSH!

The impact left a huge blow to their relationship.

Flinging both men back to their side of the room, onto each of their seats. Rings morphing into simple tie pins as they stuck onto their new ties. Nothing special or out of the ordinary, and definitely nothing to personal with the other male.

They just anger each other.

First came the realisation of the older male, who tugged relentlessly below, surging through age and maturity as his weathered face took on a caramel tan.

Hair styling into natural curls, shortening into a dark brown, embracing his new identity of a conservative single man in his fifties. Letting loose any notion of being attracted to anyone but his future-

“Hermosa!”

The hispanic BOOM-ER’ed his manhood, letting loose all his reservations and kindness as a dark glare rested on the male. Deep eye bags alongside a faint beard.

Dusting himself, the middle aged man made sure he appeared presentable, despite still in a hazy afterglow.

Shaking himself out of his trance, the older man glared at the younger male.

“Get out my office.”

Walls fell down between the two, a complete division of interests as the attorney faded from his sight.

“Well who needs ya?”

Still thirsting for release, his face contorted at any thought of attraction to the older man. What wuz he? Queer? That kind of shit gets ya kicked outta office!

Which was why he liked it ere’!

“PANSY!”

A young handsome guy free to be chasing the ladies! Hair slicked to the side, as his skin embraced that peachy caucasian tan of his new ethnicity.

“QUEER!”

The tense fights he had with his competitor and rival next door. He wouldn’t trade it for the world. Grinning arrogantly at the triumphs he had over the man, especially when he told Gomez about the queer vibe he got from those chicks.

And both ladies turned about to be lesbians!

Imagine how much the owner of the establishment would be proud of him, how his grandpapy would be proud of him.

His arrogant sneer framed by his squared jaw, licking his lips as his signature five o clock shadow lined his masculinity. Narrowing his much larger eyes, blowing a large-

“GOT DA SCOOP RIGHT ERE!”

And so the incredibly heterosexual reporter proclaimed, kicking back as his hard member came and came like the single retro business owner he was.

Slumping back in the afterglow, immersing in his heterosexuality like he always did past midnight as he-

Knock!

Jolted up, zipped his trousers, and crossed his arms as his boomer rival barged in.

“Matt! Will ya keep it down?!”

“Shaddup Diego! As if you and your crusty balls didn’t jerk off for the third time this evenin’!”

Of course, they initiated their famous, tense, stare down at the other. The caucasian reporter remaining in his position as the hispanic lawyer made his way to the seat in front of him.

The two of them fought ever since they met. With Gomez being being really disapproving towards Johnson as a result.

The Chief’s colleague vouched for their grandson Johnson to be a part of the many businesses in the building, claiming he will be a value asset to his ‘conservative vision’.

Of course, Reporter Johnson was a prodigy. Being raised in the art of the press by his Grand-pappy, the ins and outs on the ‘black N white days’ without too much influence from the modern world.

It was no surprise that the chief, the owner of dis ere’ place, gave him an office of his own.

Even bypassing Attorney Gomez’s approval, who, besides being the prime defence lawyer against any allegations towards the property owner, was also the one who made the deciding vote on whether someone was able to rent an office in the Chief’s estate.

Of course, the idea of a man, over a decade younger, having this much influence in the building had ticked the hispanic boomer to his very core. And ever since then, it became a non-stop cycle of one upping the other.

“Listen Matty, you know how it goes as much as I do. We’re men and still single, we need women.”

Though despite their numerous arguments, over the years, they may never admit it...but when it comes to getting partners, they were both unfortunate enough to remain single this long.

In their late thirties and fifties respectively, flirting with ladies and getting rejected like some 50s comedy routine.

“Never understood how did some guys get married immediately after college...bunch of queers.”

“Agreed, especially for a hot rich lawyer such as myself, being single is definitely out of the equation.”

“Hey! Hey! You think the ladies care about an old man in a suit when a hot stud like me is around?”

“Not when you are far from tactical with your words! Besides, you should see how the women look at me when I walk down the hallway.”

“Oh yeah? Well Chicks can’t resist spankin’ my arse with every step!”

And so the argument continues, like almost every time they met. Like a married couple, except they were straight and talking about women women women.

And for some odd reason, because of this fact, despite their glaring differences in almost about everything. They knew they had each other’s back when it comes to this.

“Anyways...the owner said he’s found two ladies working in an office below us...and that they are not only interested in us...but-”

Taking out the photographs from the brown folder, in them were two gorgeous women that these straight men could not peel their eyes off. Like an alluring magnet of compatibility, that kind that they were unable to resist.

The left one definitely screamed the ‘mamacita’ that Diego desired. As he placed his matured palm over that photograph, red tints could be seen over his cheeks as he subconsciously licked his lips.

Of course, Matt’s hard on throbbed at the sight of the right chick. Like a lesbian who turned straight in front of his lens, the kind of Gal he would spend his life with, and for some reason he knew she would too.

“You in?”

Lawyer Diego Gomez folded his arms, but barely hid the incredible pheromones of attraction towards his lady. Sandwiching his manhood and rubbing it, desperately needing her immediately, closing his single case once and for all.

Reporter Matt Johnson mirrored the older male, and not wanting to admit it, is thirsting for that retro babe like the scoop of the century. He really desired for her...but he ain’t gonna show weakness in front of his rival! He was taking charge, hungry eyes blending in with a determined expression.

“You be my wingman this time Gomez, and you’ve got a deal.”

#retrospective division #gay to straight #g2s #mental change #personality change #lib to cons #racial change #retro tf

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goldenkamuyhunting · 3 years

Text

Ramblings and crazy theory time about GK chap 272 “Ipopte”

New chapter and I didn’t think I would feel so bad for what happens here but I do so sorry if I won’t deliver everything well but this chapter... it was really painful.

The sentence is a reference to Giovanni Falcone’s quote “Gli uomini passano, le idee restano. Restano le loro tensioni morali e continueranno a camminare sulle gambe di altri uomini.” (“Men pass, ideas remain. Their moral tensions live on and will continue walking on other men's legs.”).

Kiro, Boutarou and Ariko’s deaths weren’t useless, they sacrificed themselves to protect other lives. The shame is on those who killed them, not on them.

Anyway...

We start with a colour chapter that basically sums up Sugimoto and Asirpa’s first meeting as it’s the scene in which Asirpa helped Sugimoto to get up after they killed the bear.

In a way it tells us that things are coming to full circle.

We’ve started this way, now we’re really close to see how we’ll end.

The worst part is maybe to see how cute this image that started the chapter is, now that I know how tragic the chapter itself is. And the story might be going on the same track. Everything started so nice and optimistic… and now…

Anyway we begin with a flashback, the flashback of how, during the battle of Mukden, Kikuta and Ariko’s trench was bombed and they had to spend the whole night there before being found, talking each other to make sure they were alive, only a sliver of moon visible (chap 207).

For Kikuta that moment was a really important moment of bonding with Ariko, but we weren’t explained why. Now we’re about to be told about it.

We start the scene with Kikuta checking if Ariko is still alive, which Ariko confirms. They had bandaged their wounds and, apparently can’t move. Kikuta tells Ariko to talk so they’ll know they’re alive. Everything is fine. Trapped there, seriously wounded and forgotten or assumed death, in almost complete darkness with only a tiny sliver of moon visible… their situation is clearly scary.

Kikuta, the officer, realizes they need to talk. To tell each other they’re alive, to distract themselves, to comfort themselves by reminding each other they aren’t alone.

And, since he’s an officer, he asks Ariko to talk because that’s the best way he has to make sure the latter is alive and properly distracted. He’s willing to listen him whatever Ariko wants to say, even if he points out something upbeat would be nice (superior officers normally didn’t listen to soldiers talking about what they wanted).

Ariko says once back home he would like to practice making a Makiri. Kikuta knows what a Makiri is, an Ainu knife. He probably learnt it when they met Ariko’s father, Siromakur, who told them he was making a Makiri for his son.

Ariko explains for Ainu they’re important because girls will accept them as husband according to the craftsmanship of the one they give to them as a present. Kikuta thinks this is because Ariko is afraid to be turned down by a girl he likes.

Ariko explains that’s not the case, the Makiri will be for himself.

He explains some parents might teach in details how to make Makiri to their sons, but his own father thought Ariko could learn doing one just by watching him doing one. Ariko though admits he wasn’t interested in watching him.

The way this scene is structured is good. There are three panels. In one there’s Ariko, in the other there’s Kikuta, in the middle there’s Siromakur.

Unknown to Ariko both of them are thinking to Siromakur as he carved the Makiri. Noda places them in symmetrical position but Ariko’s eyes are looking away from the central panel, as if unable to look at his father as he admits he wasn’t interested in what he was trying to teach him. Kikuta instead seems to look straight at him, straight at the guilt he feels for that man’s death.

Ariko goes on explaining at that time he basically didn’t see any difference between Wajin and Ainu. He would fight who were to make fun of him even if he were an Ainu and he would help who were to need him even if he were a Wajin.

Ariko believed worrying about the Ainu's future is a burden, something he doesn’t care about. Basically he’s saying to him they’re all humans, there’s no Ainu and Wajin, but also that he believes he has no special ties with his traditions and culture and he’s not interested in carrying them in the future.

He probably would prefer to be just a ‘nihon-jin’ a Japanese, without divisions between Ainu and Wajin.

It would be beautiful if everyone could be just like Ariko, if we could respect each other without having to defend our identity and without seeing it being trampled upon or misrepresented, or appropriated, or condemned.

The world though, is not so nice, and sometimes you’ve to fight just for the right to... exist.

Yeah, the world is actually a terrible place.

Ariko doesn’t wish for a conflict between Wajin and Ainu… but the conflict exists and he can’t sit out or turn his eyes away from it… which doesn’t mean to take an extremist position, but just being aware and take a stance.

Still, maybe because when he talks with Kikuta he is a little older than how he looks in the flashback when he watches at his Ainu clothes and thinks the Ainu business is a pain, he is starting to understand the importance of his own tradition, of his own culture, of how sad it would be if it were to go completely lost.

Each culture is precious, when it gets erased is a loss for the whole humanity. We know this now, we clumsily try to protect them, but GK takes place in the past and few had this awareness.

Ariko still manages to realize how his father’s Makiri had a design passed down for generation. It’s a design that ties him to the past generations, to the history of his family. It’s part of his history but, in more simpler terms, it’s also part of what ties Ariko to his father. A line that travel from Ariko to the past of his ancestors, or from them to Ariko as Ariko believes his father wanted to pass it down to him as well... in the hope Ariko would pass it down too, tying past and future together.

Ariko’s father has probably realized Ariko at the time had little interest in Makiri making… but that the interest might come in the future. Siromakur accepts Ariko is young and wants to fit in the world he’s in, instead than just being concerned with the Ainu problems, but he seems to think by growing up Ariko might also grow to understand the importance of his past, of their past and traditions.

That’s why he was making for him a Makiri when Ariko became a soldier, because even if Ariko at the moment had no wish to learn how to make a Makiri, as long as he had a Makiri with himself, he would be always able to duplicate it should he wish to do so.

And, although I think he handled the whole gold thing very poorly, a side of me loves Siromakur as a father.

He accepts and respects his son’s wishes but, at the same time considers Ariko might grow to change his mind and doesn’t want for it to happen when it’s too late.

Ariko doesn’t want to learn to carve a knife now?

Fine, he’ll give him the means to learn to carve one when he will feel ready to do so. I think he genuinely wanted Ariko to learn. I think although he too didn’t want a conflict with the Wajin, he loved his culture and wanted to pass it down to Ariko… but still, he respected Ariko’s will and gave him space.

However Ariko admits his father didn’t make in time to end the Makiri but died while carving it. Siromakur was hoping Ariko would have time to learn through the Makiri he would make for him… but fate is a cruel master and died before finishing the knife.

His Makiri went missing too, so Ariko can’t replicate it and regrets it, regrets what he now has lost and can’t recover. With tears in his eyes he admits he should have watched his father more closely and it’s clear it’s not just about the Makiri that he won’t be able to duplicate.

That Makiri, the memories of him watching his father making one and teaching him, could have been something to whom he could latch now that his father wasn’t alive anymore. Ariko though wasted that time and now his father is dead and he’s left with nothing in his hands.

And his wish to learn to make a Makiri is an attempt to recover what he has lost, to reconnect with his father now that his father is no more. In chap 247 Ariko reminds him as a gentle man who never spoke much.

He can’t believe he was planning to buy weapons and he’s right. Siromakur wasn’t. He wanted to mediate. Maybe the fact Siromakur was silent made Ariko feel like his father was distant… but the fact he was gentle clearly told Ariko he cared.

And so we see this grown man crying because he lost his father… and his pain is real and easy to empathize.

As Kikuta doesn’t comment, Ariko asks him if he’s alive. Kikuta confirms he is and apologizes. Ariko reminds him to make a response once in a while if he’s alive. In answer Kikuta rests his hands on Ariko’s shoulder and apologizes.

He’s clearly not apologizing for having fallen silent but for having been what caused Ariko’s loss. Kikuta regretted Siromakur’s death and now he regrets it even more as he knows he’s responsible for Ariko’s pain. In a way I think Kikuta subconsciously grew so close to Ariko also due to this, it’s as if he wanted to ‘adopt him’ to make up for the loss he has caused him.

We’re back in the present and we’ve another page with a good panel structure.

On the top we see Kikuta, head down, likely still bothered by the situation. I’m pretty sure he can guess what Tsurumi is doing to Asirpa and he’s not liking it… but he’s not fighting it either. He regrets but doesn’t act because it wouldn’t be advantageous to him. Kikuta plays safe.

On the lower part of the page there’s Ariko, Ariko who instead is going to act, to fight. He’s more aware of his position now and he’s going to take a side, to take a risk. Now he’s letting the whole matter affect it. He has grown up and he’s aware he lives in a terrible world and he’s going to take a position and try to fight for the right cause… even if it might be disadvantageous to him. Ariko is going to take a risk.

In the middle the church where everything is taking place.

Ariko gets in the room as Tsurumi, who has heard the code from Asirpa, grabs the skins, tosses them on the ground and scans them quickly, trying to decode the code with Asirpa’s keyword.

Ariko approaches, his arrival surprising Tsukishima who’s still spying the scene.

Ariko claims he’s there to tell him the location of Hijikata’s hideout so they can attack it. Asirpa is surprised but Ariko is actually using that as an excuse to cut Asirpa’s rope with his Makiri. I wonder if that Makiri is the one who stayed unfinished or his father’s one.

Tsurumi easily sees through him and doesn’t even bother move.

Ariko crumbles, clearly afraid, he’s a honest person and a fail as an actor, points his gun at Tsurumi and demands for him to give them the tattooed skin. As Tsukishima takes his rifle, Asirpa finishes freeing herself.

Tsukishima and Koito comes in, weapons in hands, Tsukishima wounding Ariko. Asirpa frees Sofia even if Ariko hurries her to escape.

Sugimoto and Shiraishi, hearing the shoots, run toward the church with the bottle-mobile, Kikuta also runs there while Sofia grabs a bench and tosses it in Ariko and Tsukishima’s direction, causing the door to close. The bench then falls on Tsurumi but he’s so caught up he doesn’t care.

Sofia, Asirpa and Ariko runs out. Sugimoto doesn’t even stop but the trio tries to jump on the bottle-mobile as it’s running. Ariko raises Asirpa so that Shiraishi can help her to climb up, Sofia gets in Ariko… Ariko is shoot in the leg and falls.

Tsukishima and Koito are out. The bullet was clearly shoot by Tsukishima, I’m not sure if Koito also has shoot. Ariko shoots back but gets no one. Asirpa calls him but Ariko urges them to go without stopping. He knows he’s giving his life to help her, he knows he’s entrusting their future to her.

He has no hesitation as he tells her to go.

The bottle-mobile passes in front of Kikuta. Sugimoto and Kikuta see each other and confirm they’re really the vagrant boy and Kikuta-san.

As Sugimoto realizes so, his eyes seem bigger and they’re really clear and shiny. I wonder if the idea is that seeing Kikuta brings him back to a time in which he was younger and less jaded.

Kikuta then sees Ariko on the ground and moves toward him, asking him what’s going on.

Ariko is still on the ground and says his name as he sees him moving closer. Ariko knows Kikuta cares about him, he knows Kikuta wanted to save him. They had a bond in a way.

He trusts him, he doesn’t try to aim his weapon at him.

I don’t think he hopes Kikuta will save him though, I think he’s just sad... but at least he’s not alone...

... he’s not alone as Tsukishima is next to him and shoots him in the heart, killing him immediately.

I would like to think maybe Tsukishima did so because he thought Ariko would have tried shooting Kikuta... but it’s clear that wasn’t going to be the case. Ariko has made no attempt to aim at Kikuta.

Tsukishima is just mercilessly getting rid of Ariko, a man who dared to oppose to Tsurumi and his ‘oh so wonderful goal of salvation for those who bow his head to him’.

Kikuta is clearly shocked beyond belief. His eyes go all white, with no irises or pupils.

Asirpa calls Ariko’s Ainu name, the only name she has used for him, ‘Ipopte’. She’s shocked too although her pupils are really tiny dots.

We can’t see the face of who’s with her. Will Noda draw them in the volume version? Or is the idea she’s the only one who truly cared and suffers, suffers for the loss of a man, an Ainu like her, who gave his life to save her own?

I don’t know but still what Noda does is interesting because he shows Ariko, who believed Ainu and Wajin were no different, mourned terribly by both a Wajin and an Ainu.

There’s no difference in that moment between Kikuta and Asirpa. Both suffer for Ariko’s death. They’re the better world Ariko believed in where people is just people, not Wajin or Ainu but humans.

Sadly they aren’t the only ones in this world.

Tsukishima walks past Kikuta.

For the first time in the story, with the exclusion of the flashback with him and Igogusa/Harumi Chiyo, we can see there’s light in Tsukishima’s eyes.

His eyes aren’t anymore completely black, they’re shining, there’s light in them.

He has killed Ariko, but he’s no more Tsurumi’s mindless executor. He’s a believer now. He believes Tsurumi’s cause with all his heart and therefore Ariko’s death isn’t something to regret, but something he had to do in order to reach his goal.

He can go back to the church, leaving Ariko’s body under the rain.

In a past meta I wondered if Tsukishima would overcome his vice of Acedia and find salvation or not.

Well, this scene feels like an answer to it.

This new Tsukishima… now cares for his goal, but not for the people who’ll have to die for him to reach it. He won’t feel bad anymore, he’ll march on.

He likely now believes his place is with Tsurumi, not out of obligation but because he wants it.

He decided so and his decision gives him life. And, I think, this is Noda’s way to prepare us to when the Tiger’s curse will strike. Tsukishima is no more a victim of his own Acedia. He’s an active and willing participant. And I’m sad.

Because I knew the Tiger’s curse would befall on him but still I was hoping Tsukishima would… I don’t know, find a way to… get forgiven, that he would grow and manage to pull himself out of this situation and toward a better path and instead… he has grown but he also has decided this is what he wants. And this is maybe the saddest thing, that even if Tsukishima changed, even if he grew… well in the end not only it changed nothing but it made it worse.

Still, it makes sense it’s Tsukishima who kills Ariko, because both, in a way, didn’t want to take a position, Tsukishima blindly following Tsurumi even though he didn’t know if he were trustworthy, Ariko wishing he wouldn’t have to follow anyone.

In the end they both took a stance, Ariko decided he would help who’s in need of help, Asirpa, his people, Tsukishima decided to trample over those who would get in the ‘salvation’ Tsurumi claimed he would offer to those who would submit to him.

Ariko dies, but his sacrifice isn’t pointless. He died to do a good thing, to save someone, and by saving Asirpa he will allow others to live.

Tsukishima lives but I’m willing to bet nothing good will come for him or his cause by taking Ariko’s life, because really, nothing good can come from taking a life, especially if it was the life of a good man. Tsukishima can walk away with light in his eyes but, to me, it feels like with this act he has willingly killed what was good inside him. He’s killing the companions he believes Tsurumi would save who can see there’s no salvation in Tsurumi’s words. He’s self destroying his goal and he’s not even realizing him.

He comes to side with the worst of the world. Same as when he took part to the murder of Kiro but now worse. At this point… I don’t think there’s a chance of salvation for him, and while it’s sad because Tsukishima was a character I like… well, Tsukishima has done his choice. And it was the wrong one.

#Golden Kamuy #Ariko Rikimatsu #Kikuta Mokutarou #Asirpa #Sofia #Tsurumi Tokushirou #Siromakur #Koito Otonoshin #Tsukishima Hajime #Wilk #Sugimoto Saichi #Shiraishi Yoshitake #Hijikata Toshizou #Retar #Golden Kamuy Ramblings and Theories

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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Chapter 276: Our Turn to Save You

Previously on BnHA: In a refreshing change of pace from the usual “the adults refuse to tell the kids anything” shtick, Deku and Kacchan flew around trying to get Tomura’s attention while refusing to explain jack shit to Endeavor! Deku eventually thought to ask Kacchan why he was getting in on this, and Kacchan launched into a two-page Denial Speech which seemed expressly designed to prime him for losing his quirk any fucking second now! Tomura then showed up and the two of them were all “KJSDLFK” but thankfully Gran dove in to rescue them from dying INSTANTANEOUS HORRIBLE DEATHS, and reminded them that there are practically SIX WHOLE GROWN-UPS left who can definitely still fight Tomura and won’t die at all!! And one of those grown-ups is Aizawa! Who’s getting ready to fight Tomura now! Listen Horikoshi you fucker, when I asked for more Aizawa angst and badassery this ISN’T WHAT I –

Today on BnHA: Tomura is all “THIS QUIRK WON’T STOP ME BECAUSE I CAN’T READ” and sort of shrugs it off and continues to kick ass even though his Decay and AFO powers aren’t working. The pros all try to stop him with Endeavor taking the lead, and because THEY ALL SUCK, APPARENTLY, nothing they do is effective in any way whatsoever! Meanwhile Gran dumps Deku and Kacchan off and is all “YOU’LL BE FINE HERE” which is the most ridiculous thing anyone in this manga has ever said, and then pretty much as soon as he says it at least nine more High Ends (excuse me, NEARLY High Ends) just POP UP OUT OF NOWHERE and are all “RARR” and the heroes are all “oh shit” and Tomura is all “lol yeah I actually had more High Ends this whole time” and Ujiko is all “it’s true!” and, fuck. The chapter ends with Tomura charging in to kill Aizawa only to be intercepted by MY TWO PRECIOUS BABIES, MY DARLING LITTLE HERO HATCHLINGS, and...!! I blame Gran for this.

gotta say, my sense of time is distorted enough as it is these days without chapter leaks coming out A WHOLE ENTIRE DAY EARLY out of nowhere. not that I’m complaining, because I want to see Aizawa kick some ass & immediately lose his fucking quirk as much as anyone, but it is disorienting

anyway time to dive into this chapter which I predict will be titled “everything instantly goes horribly wrong.” I’ve had a lot of time these past two weeks to think about what is going to happen next, and I’m pretty sure I nailed it you guys

so we’re opening with a familiar sight

I like that Horikoshi thinks that helicopters go “chop chop.” well, close enough

anyway, so yet again we have a scene in BnHA of a town in the process of being destroyed by villains while a helicopter whirs (WHIRS, Horikoshi) and chuffs (SOMETIMES THEY CHUFF TOO) anxiously nearby. I wonder if this helicopter is going to fucking disintegrate. that’d be something new

ARE YOU GOING TO DIE, MISTER LIVE REPORTER SIR. OH MAN. OH GOD I’M ANXIOUS

dozens, you guys! there are dozens of them left! not to worry then. the good guys definitely still got this

oh hey it’s that news anchor with the cutely fucked-up backstory of chopping off his own horn so as to more handsomely report the news

oh god don’t tell me this whole thing is going to be broadcast live. that’s all we fucking need right now. I wonder what’s going to throw society into chaos more, the reveal of just how powerful Tomura is now, or the exposure of what the government-mandated child soldiers get to do during their super-educational practical on-the-job training! no coffee-fetching for these kiddos! we’ve got ‘em rolling up their sleeves and getting their hands good and dirty!

oh hey and it looks like this means that All Might will get to watch protege #2 lose his quirk live on TV -- HEY WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS

BAD BABYSITTER!! MY GOD MAN, I KNOW YOU’RE THE INDULGENT GRANDFATHER TYPE, BUT MAYBE CONSIDER CHANGING THE CHANNEL TO DOC MCSTUFFINS FOR THE TIME BEING??!

also I know this is just a perspective thing probably but lmao his hand on her shoulder is fucking huge. All Might you been working out again

but seriously this is not good for either of them to witness. they don’t need more trauma in their lives! All Might doesn’t need yet another thing to blame himself over! and he has conflicted feelings about Tomura still on top of that which I’m sure isn’t going to make this any easier. ANGST ALL AROUND. EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK, EVERYWHERE YOU GOOOO

MOTHERFUCKER I --

is Mitsuki looking at fucking baby pictures of Kacchan. reliving the memories of the good old days, thinking about how far her baby boy has come and how proud she is. that’s just great you guys. that’s just fucking great. these aren’t even red flags at this point these are red fucking tapestries

(ETA: and this basically goes without saying, but I’m sure the fact that not one but THREE Todorokis are represented in this little montage means that Endeavor and Shouto are also going to be just fine.)

HE’S SO HAPPY just fucking try and tell me he doesn’t have a mental fucking link to Tomura and Deku you guys. this bitch knows exactly what is going down right now and he is LIVING FOR IT. that does it. someone please save my spot in the chapter for me I am going to go take a quick walk to calm down

and of COURSE that’s a fucking lie though, god -- [frantically clicks to next page]

LOL HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS

FUCKING MANUAL IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY LMAO. YOU CAN ALL FUCKING RELAX NOW. and fuck me, I’m so fucking happy RockLockRock is still alive as well but WHY ARE YOU STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO AIZAWA IN WHAT I LIKE TO CALL THE “CAUTION: YOU WILL GET SHOT” ZONE. swear to god Horikoshi THAT MAN HAS A FAMILY don’t you even think about -- !!

sigh, anyway so then the rest of the page is panels of Gran & The Boys, Endeavor, and Tomura, along with the text “WHICH SIDE IS THE VICTOR”, which is not helping matters any! also the title of the chapter is “Cheating” which I assume is a reference to both the erasure of Tomura’s quirk, and the soon-to-happen permanent removal of Aizawa’s. I’m just an optimist like that

oh hey and Tomura’s sending out some quick orders to his squad as well

and to think this homicidal maniac is in my top ten favorite characters. sob. I do love you kiddo so please don’t take it personally that I have to unequivocally root against you here. maybe if you listened to me once in a while and would even just consider my radical alternate plan of not killing anyone in sight

anyway lol but here everyone including myself thought he was going straight for the bullets and instead he was pulling out his phone. shows what we know. [braces myself for the follow-up panel of him putting the phone away again and THEN reaching for the bullets!!]

meanwhile we’re being introduced to some new sidekick of Endeavor’s who’s probably going to set the record for shortest time in between being introduced and dying horribly. sorry Kido. I’m just jaded

don’t mind me I’m just putting up emotional walls in between myself and any new lovable characters as a means of self-preservation. mmhmm. he can manipulate the trajectory of things. that’s nice. he seems nice. wouldn’t that be a nice quirk for Tomura to steal and then trajector a bullet straight towards Aizawa ffffff

(ETA: watch this space, everyone. Endeavor’s Sidekick Kido. gonna fuck everything up for everyone, mark my words.)

so I can’t help but notice that now that Tomura can’t use his quirk anymore and is helpless, they have all decided to just sit around doing nothing again?

like. far be it from me to openly wonder why they are not immediately knocking him out or setting him on fire again or whatnot. I am just a lowly civilian. it’s not my job to question these things

(ETA: I must learn to be patient.)

also lmao at Manual saying Aizawa’s ankle is “twisted”, similar to how Deku is constantly “twisting” all of his arms and legs all the time. or did he mean “twisted” in the sense that his leg was pretty much literally wrung out like a fucking towel

anyway so Manual is waterbending liquid into Aizawa’s eyes like that’s supposed to help him NOT close them

has Horikoshi ever had water splashed into his fucking eyes. he and I have had very different experiences as to the effects of this apparently

there we go!!

at least someone out here is fucking trying. for a second there I was honestly worried we were going to see a repeat of “oh well he seems dead enough, let’s just leave, see you at the victory party this weekend, X-Less”

LMAO WHAT KIND OF NONSENSE

[GRABS THESE PANELS AND WAVES THEM IN FRONT OF THE UNCONSCIOUS HAWKS] DID YOU HEAR THAT. DO YOU SEE THAT, BOYO. FACTS. BEING WEAK TO FIRE IS, IN FACT, 100 PERCENT A CHOICE. IF YOU HAD JUST DONE MORE PUSH-UPS AND TRAINED HARDER YOU WOULDN’T BE IN THIS SITUATION RIGHT NOW. SMDH. YOU FUCKING WIMP. YOU RECREANT. YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED

hooooh man. hokay. whew. has anyone seen my suspension of disbelief. I’m so used to having it on me at all times when I read this manga that I must have let my guard down and now it seems I’ve spaced it out. well we’ll just keep a lookout for it

so now we’re cutting to Ujiko who is gleefully bragging that Tomura’s strength is on par with All Might Prime’s, which is just great. and now he’s also starting this sentence and then just... not... finishing it

that’s fine. you just trail off, then. hang those implications. whatever dude

meanwhile RLR and Manny are helping Aizawa limp away while he awkwardly has to twist his neck around to be able to still keep Tomura in his line of sight. I feel like there was probably a better way for them to do this but whatever

anyway thanks for confirming that Ujiko did make Tomura into a Noumu in addition to giving him AFO, though, Horikoshi! that’s very nice of you to unsink one of my theories like that. appreciate it

and hold up, so it occurs to me that “Being Fireproof” could still be a quirk, but just a mutant-type quirk rather than an activation type, meaning that Erasure would have no effect on it! aha! oh, there’s my suspension of disbelief lol it was in my pocket the whole time!!

anyway so Endeavor and Tomura are tussling but I really wish they’d be more careful because if Tomura is still capable of super strength and super speed then he could propel himself out of Aizawa’s line of sight really easily and I feel like this isn’t really helping

is it just me or do they look like they’re TRYING to jump in between Aizawa and Tomura, like?!?! GUYS

LMAO now Gran is just

SHUP. toss. dusts off hands. well that takes care of that

and apparently he’s under the genuine impression that a mere “now stay put you dumdums” is going to have any effect on these two whatsoever. lol okay. we’ll see

anyways YESSSSS, KACCHAN MEET GRAN, GRAN, KACCHAN

meanwhile Kacchan falls silent as he mentally tries to work out who tf “Toshinori” is lmao. I’M SO CHUFFED ABOUT THIS. YES THAT’S ANOTHER USE OF THE WORD “CHUFFED.” VERY VERSATILE AND REMINISCENT OF HELICOPTER BLADES WHIRLING

and now here’s a convenient map showing how far away Deku and Kacchan are from safety!

thanks for that. that’s so reassuring to have this nifty little visual

OH MY GOD GRAN

DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIE?? DOES EVERYONE IN THIS FUCKING ARC HAVE A DEATH WISH. MY GOD

“BUT FAR BE IT FROM ME TO LEAVE WITHOUT ANY OMINOUS FORESHADOWING!!” NO INDEED WE CAN’T HAVE THAT!!!

rather than focus anymore on how goddamn foreboding that is, I would instead like to take this moment to call attention to the fact that Gran apparently knows Bakugou’s name but not Present Mic’s. that’s amazing

sob

what good indeed. imagine if they couldn’t even do that. I imagine that would have some far-reaching consequences which might even be interesting to explore as part of a story

I made the same face as them just now fyi

fucking Schrodinger’s High Ends. they only exist when the plot says it’s convenient for them to exist. maybe they’re like fairies and if you say you don’t believe in them they drop dead. where the fuck did these things actually come from?!

WAY TO DROP THE BOYS OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF NOUMU FUCKING CENTRAL MY GOOD MAN. MAYBE WE SHOULD SCROLL BACK UP AND UPDATE THAT MAP. GOOD JOB LMAO

WHAT THE FUCK

welp. they deleted Tomura’s quirk and then sent the strongest guy they had after him, annnnnnnd he went and beat him anyway in like two fucking seconds. so that’s. ... wowee. ...so do we have a plan b, or...

like, holy shit though?? and can you imagine the kind of psychological impact this is having on everyone watching this live on TV right now?? this is literally the anti-Kamino. holy fucking shit. also did Tomura lose an arm or am I just not understanding this image right?? NOT THAT IT SEEMS TO BE BOTHERING HIM IN THE SLIGHTEST??

(ETA: somehow I missed the fact that he is even calling attention to it lol. “I’ll raise [the other hand] when it’s back.” fucking look at Mr. Transcendent here who’s so powerful that when you tear his arms off all it does is make him more sassy. is he secretly related to Mirko.)

idk guys I really think my original chapter title was better

at least Endeavor isn’t fucking dead just yet. four more pages and you might actually make it out of this chapter alive my good man

blah blah blah flashback to Ujiko explaining that the Noumu could be activated by an electric current flowing through them, and that they’re programmed to move only on Tomura’s orders. you know. just more good news

oh hey but at least these ones are mindless so I guess it’s okay for the kids to kick their asses without feeling too conflicted. it’s just too bad “their strength is higher quality than the others” but you win some, you lose some

OH GOOD, THEY’RE GOING STRAIGHT FOR AIZAWA

I’M SURE THAT MIDORIYA “MY BODY MOVED BEFORE I COULD THINK” IZUKU AND BAKUGOU “I’M THE ONE WHO’LL GET PAYBACK FOR THAT DAY” KATSUKI WILL TAKE THEIR GRANDPA’S SAGE ADVICE AND GO AND HIDE WHILE THEIR TEACHER IS IN DANGER. IT’S NOT LIKE THEY’VE LITERALLY GONE TO SCHOOL FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR EXPLICITLY MAJORING IN NOT DOING THAT. YES THIS IS FINE THIS IS FUCKING FINE AND GREAT

NOW WHAT’S HAPPENING THERE’S LOTS OF RUBBLE FALLING AROUND AND STUFF MOVING AND SOMEONE IS TALKING

OH IT’S HIM

excuse me. EXCUSE ME. no, you are NOT. going to fucking die, Aizawa Shouta. HORIKOSHI KOUHEI!!! YOU’RE UNDER ARREST FOR THE CRIME OF DRAWING THIS FUCKING PANEL. THIS ONE, RIGHT HERE. YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE DOING. HOW DARE YOU. how FUCKING dare you sir

and if anything happens to RLR I SWEAR TO GOD!! you know what?! you know what?!?

STOP IT

[sitting curled up into a little ball with my knees drawn up to my chest, drawing little finger circles on the floor] I see. so he’s not even concerned about himself at all. it’s his two tiny little hero eggs, his problem children, and the fact that if he dies here there won’t be anything preventing Tomura from finding and killing them. ahh. okay. it’s okay. that’s fine

and goddammit what is he pulling out from his belt. everyone is on the same page here, right? Aizawa’s Not Allowed To Die. that was the deal. WHAT HAS THIS ALL BEEN FOR OTHERWISE

(ETA: yeah but he seriously did just pull a knife out of fucking nowhere though like the kid in that fucking vine lmao. APPARENTLY HE’S HAD IT THIS ENTIRE TIME?? “what if I just stabbed him” lulz. based on the way things were trending, I’m willing to bet it would have literally bounced off of Tomura’s chest at this point, but I’ll give him credit for making the effort.)

NOPE NOPE NOPE NO

(ETA: Shinsou being in the bottom corner... ;_; )

is anyone listening to me!??! I’m over here screaming myself fucking hoarse??! AIZAWA ISN’T FUCKING ALLOWED TO DIE??!! HELLO!?!?!

lol well at least RLR didn’t get steamrolled over

well everyone. we’ve reached page 18. one more to go. what are the odds we end with the boys arriving in the ta-da nick of time to defend their teacher. just who is watching over whom

THERE IT IS!!!

OH NO OH GOD AM I CRYING??! YOU HAD TO GO AND PUT THOSE FLASHBACK PANELS IN?? HIM SAVING DEKU AND CO. AT USJ, PLUS THAT ONE TIME HE DEFENDED BAKUGOU DURING HIS MOST VULNERABLE MOMENT IN FRONT OF A NATIONAL AUDIENCE??? “IT’S OUR TURN TO SAVE YOU”???

and they look so determined and desperate?? and the “Aizawa-sensei!” echoing in both their minds?? and meanwhile Aizawa looks fucking horrified though, because of all the... [gestures] you know? the Terrible Danger?? sob??

anyway. I really let this manga do this to me every damn week. let it just have its fucking way with me. at least Horikoshi didn’t end up breaking the law after all. I don’t know if I could continue to support a mangaka who is willing to commit an actual war crime. no touching Aizawa. OKAY?? OKAY

#bnha 276 #aizawa shouta #shigaraki tomura #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #gran torino #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #so what sound do *you* think helicopters make?#I googled this and found some excellent answers #my favorite one was dubdubdubdubdub #but tocotocotoco was a close second #whop whop whop #batabatabata #wuppa wuppa lmao

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bubblyani · 4 years

Text

Bail Out : 02

(Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A Bruce Wayne Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 02: Unrequited

Summary: One fateful, drunken night gets you arrested for assault. However, once you get bailed out by Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne, surprising obstacles get in the way, forcing you to question all your choices in life, career, and in love.

Word Count: 7213

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, Hints of Mugging and Violence

Author’s Note: Very happy to see the response I received so far. Hope you will enjoy the progression of this story. Enjoy!

Songs Mentioned:

Ain’t no Stopping us Now- McFadden & Whitehead

Eyes off You- M-22, Arlissa and Kiana Ledé

Chapter 1 HERE

(Saturday 3 am)

Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, Alfred Pennyworth rose up from his chair upon seeing Bruce Wayne enter the Penthouse with haste. The sudden need to spend one’s late hours on a riveting novel was certainly coincidental, for tonight the Butler had been awake for two valid reasons, as it seemed.

“I’m a little relieved you didn’t come back home with Ms.Natasha…” Alfred said hoarsely. Loosening his tie, Bruce flashed a soft smile in his direction.

“I take it that you don’t like her, Alfred?”

“Oh! Her talent is admirable” the elderly man replied, watching the younger man rush over to his bedroom, “But her arrogance is simply unforgivable” he continued, increasing the volume of his voice so that his master could still hear. Alfred’s eyes subtly squinted with curiosity when Bruce returned with his laptop.

Sitting on one of the dinning chairs, Wayne made himself comfortable ,before typing up some words in it. “Trouble, Master Wayne?” Alfred inquired. “I need to look up someone…” Bruce answered, whilst accessing the Wayne Enterprises Internal Server. “And who may that be exactly, Sir?” “My knight …” Bruce began, his index finger grazing over ENTER button,“….in shining armor…” Finally pressing it, he managed to open the Personnel File required, “…apparently” Both men spent the next few minutes, studying the profile in complete silence and fascination. The owner of the profile was female, appearing to an employee of Wayne Enterprises. Swiping through every page, Bruce made sure to pay close attention to every little detail. Until finally, he spoke up. “Alfred…” Bruce said, looking over to him, “We’re gonna need some bail money…” Mr.Pennyworth flashed him a small smile in turn. “Of course you do, Sir…” He replied, although there was indeed a hint of sarcasm.

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(Monday)

The rhythmic clicks of your stilettos were interrupted by the ring of your cell phone. Monday morning, the beginning of a new week. Thus, more work awaited you, similar to everyone else in the world. Digging inside your oversized handbag, you rummaged through, forcing you to stop in your tracks on the pavement, only a few feet away from Wayne Tower.

Few seconds passed by, yet you still could not find your phone. Although those few seconds seemed adequate, for the chilly morning breeze to caress the back of your neck, and for the cup of mocha to keep your hand warm like an invisible glove, or even for the delicious sandwich inside your bag to tease your nostrils with it’s aroma. Bless the caller’s patience, you thought. When you finally grabbed it from the bottom of the handbag, you smiled, upon seeing the name that appeared on screen. “ ’Morning Ali! What’s up?” You answered, in a cheery tone. With your working schedules being different, Allison would relish the opportunity of sleeping in. Unlike you. “Hey Sweetie…” Allison spoke, her deep voice sounding even deeper in the morning, “Just FYI, they’re sending someone to fix the Wi-fi today…” “Oh Thank God!…” you exclaimed, “Finally I can do some catching up…” you said, backing unto the wall to allow the passerby’s to walk past. To both of your dismay, the Wi-fi connection seemed to have a breakdown during the weekend, causing what could be called as an ‘unexpected detox’ from all forms of social media and internet access. But now, relieved about the good news, you began to walk once again, your rhythmic clicks getting their groove back. “Um…Sweetie?”  

“Yeah, what’s up?” You asked. Allison grew quiet for a few seconds, which confused you. “You might wanna…” she paused, “…keep off the web today…” she added hesitantly, “Or… even for a few days…” You raised your eyebrows, as you approached the entrance of Wayne Tower.  “Why?” You asked, “What do you mean?-Hey Bill !”

Amidst your cheerful greeting, Bill the Doorman grew nothing but speechless as you passed him by. And it surprised you. ‘Babbling Bill’ was what you would tease him with, yet there he was, quiet as a mouse. And he was not the only one. “Hey! You there?” Allison asked, seemingly concerned by your own silence. Gripping on to your phone tightly, you felt discomfort. “Ali, I gotta go…” You said, hanging up whilst you walked through the lobby. A walk through the lobby of Wayne Tower was usually a busy walk. Your voice would get the warm up it needed with many a greetings, when at the same time, your upper limbs would get the stretching required from all the waving. Yet today, this morning, it was all too different.

All those who passed you smiled, yet no words were exchanged. Speechless would be most common word to describe it. The moment you would pass anyone by, it was quite noticeable how some quickly gathered into groups of two or three’s, followed up with hushed whispers. Uncomfortable was clearly the word you would use to describe your situation, thus you looked straight ahead and walked towards the elevator hall. The more eyes washed over you, the stronger you wished for the elevators to be closer in distance. You did not want to walk anymore. Oh how wonderful would have been to float anywhere in flash! What could possibly have happened for all to look at you this way? Your eyes widened. Could it be? The Friday night incident? Allison’s advice, could that be in relation to this, by any chance?

You finally caught the elevator, being the last one to get in. With a packed and quiet crowd standing behind, the doors closed and you watched the floor numbers of the panel, change with every second. But then, whispers began: “Is she the one who-”

“Yep…”

“Oh! Wow…”

It seemed that whispers were what you could not escape from. If it was another day, you would have gladly turned back to spot the culprit. But today was not your day.

So, there. Everyone knew. But what exactly?

8th Floor, HR Department of Wayne Enterprises. Stepping out of the elevator, you grew nervous. Being the Department that dared not attract attention of this sort, what could possibly be the reaction of your peers and colleagues? Taking a deep breath, you entered the office space, ready to face the music.

Except, you were greeted with actual music.

And the loudest of cheers.

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Never have you been this confused. And never had you seen your Staff in HR worked so collectively in any activity other than this. All 20+ of your junior staff, up from their chairs, visible from their booths. Never have they clapped so zealously before. “Ain’t no Stopping us Now” by McFadden & Whitehead played in the background the moment you entered the large room. “Ain't No Stoppin Us Now! We're on the move!…..”

Instead of feeling relieved or euphoric, embarrassment washed over you.

“…Ain’t No Stoppin Us Now! We've got the groove!”

The disco chorus would normally tempt you to break into dance, but all you could do was to cover your face, to hide the redness that deemed visible. What could have possibly been showed to these innocent people for them to act this way around you? And most importantly, you did not know if these cheers were of genuine support, or sheer mockery.

“HR is cool again! Whoo!” “Literal chills, Boss!…” “You…are…amazing!” “You showed them! Fight the power!”

Nodding with a shy smile, you acknowledged everyone’s comments as you walked towards the direction of your office, uncomfortable by cheers for the first time in all your years of existence.

“Well done, boss…Well done!” Greg Cohen, Assistant Manager cried out as he joined you. Given his track record, you were convinced this was all a prank. “Alright alright…” you muttered with a smirk, “…message received” yet prepared for an unexpected surprise in the end. Except Greg never looked this happy. “Are you kidding?” He said, “The way you stood up to that jerk? Pure bad-assery, Boss!” “Is your hand okay?” Paula Yang, one of the Senior Executives jumped in with concern, following you over to the office with Greg. “Yes, Paula.” You answered kindly, showing your hand, “And I was only ‘badass’ cause I was highly intoxicated, Greg!” You pointed out to him with exaggeration. To which he laughed. “Yeah! We can’t forget how crazy you get when you’re wasted…” he said with a wink, watching you finally sit down,“Oh! Remember that one time you willingly joined the junior staff to do a Taylor Swift Karaoke-off?” Eyes widened, that embarrassing memory played in your mind like a fast forward clip. “Oh my god-don’t!” You cried out with frustration, covering your face. All in the midst of Greg’s laughter. “I remember you sang 22 with such gusto, it was classic!” “Do you think HR is gonna be in trouble for this though?” Paula asked. You were struggling with an answer: “I-” “Nah!” Greg waved his hand frantically, “There worse things going on in Gotham right now” “That’s not the point-” you interjected, or tried to. “So many worse things-” “GUYS!…” Your interjection finally silenced the both of them, although the music was live and kicking outside. Taking a deep breath, you began: “As much as I appreciate all this…would you mind giving me some space for a little breather? I mean…” you paused, showing your coffee, “ I just got to office so…” you said, hinting their exit, “...Thank You” you added as they nodded frantically. “Sure! of course…” Greg said, “You’re the best, Boss!” Giving a thumbs up, he disappeared. “Yeah! Yeah!…” You said with raised eyebrows, “Paula…the door, please!” You added courtesy as you looked at her. The young executive obediently closed the door behind, leaving you alone at last. Never did you expect this. Especially when the title of Senior Manager was crowned over your head.

Pressing the space button of your computer, you watched the screen come alive, welcoming you with Google Search on your Browser Window. Staring at blinking cursor, you were tempted. Highly tempted to do the unthinkable. Should you act on it? Or would it crash and burn your day altogether? Yet, how unfair was it that everyone else knew but you.

Exhaling deeply, the last thread of patience left you. No more. Taking a deep breath, you proceeded to let your fingers press the keys.

Brring!

The ring of your office phone made you flinch in a flash. Holding your chest with shock, you looked over to the phone screen, forcing you to hold yourself tighter.

878. Boss!

You gulped with fear, fingers almost shaking as you answered the phone: “Y-yes?” Your stutter was called for. “My office…now!” A voice spoke from the other side. It was stern, it was expected. Sighing with silence, you nodded whilst replying low and with obedience : “Yes…”

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Sitting with your hands over your mouth, you watched it all. You watched the entire Friday night incident caught on video.And it was more vivid than you could remember.

“Don’t you DARE say things like that!”

“Why? What are you gonna do? Threaten m-OW!”

“You take that back! I mean it”

“Wha-? OWW!! ARGH! MY NOSE!”

“SECURITY!”  

Your eyes squinted with discomfort. The manner in which you spewed your words in rage, and surprise him with your amateur yet deadly punches; this was a side of yourself you had never glanced upon before. As the video stopped playing in the laptop, you looked back at the title above it:

“Sucker Punch! : Woman engages in assault at Famous Hotel”

With your eyes glued to the title, you let it sink in to your system. No wonder everyone downstairs appeared speechless. You dreaded to look away from the screen at the two people watching you from the other side of the table. And you chose not to. “So…” You attempted a casual tone, “…has this…gone viral?” Ted Hawthorne, one of the Legal representatives of Wayne Enterprises, cleared his throat: “Truthfully, I’m inclined to give a sarcastic remark right now” he said, in his bass tone. “Please…” you sighed, “…by all means” you said, eyes still on the screen. Taking a deep breath, Ted began: “If only this was viral, kid” he said, proceeding to point at the screen, “This…is mega viral. Spreading faster than wild fire” he continued, “Media is already calling you ‘The Bruiser’” Your boss however, still kept silent. Sighing even heavily, you looked at Ted. “Okay, be straight with me” you said, “What am I in for? How much did I anger this Henderson guy?” Ted scoffed, “You seriously don’t know who you’re up against? Erik Henderson of Henderson Incorporated?” Your jaw dropped as low as it could. Henderson Incorporated had always been one of the Rival Companies of Wayne Enterprises. How could you not possibly put those two together? “Wait! No…” you exclaimed, “But what about Magnus Henderson?” “That’s his father.” Ted said, taking the laptop, “He retired….” He added whilst typing, “ …and passed the company over to Erik.” Flipping the laptop back to you. It now showed an article, “It all happened so fast last week. So I guess I don’t blame you for not knowing” he said, sitting on the chair right next to you. Your Head remained silent, still. “Anyways, back to the point…” Ted said, as you scrolled through the article, “The usual legal practice from his side, would be pressing charges for assault…” A certain someone warned you about this a few days before. Someone who unknowingly caused warmth in your poor heart. As you looked down at your right hand, at the tightly wrapped bandage, that warmth seemed more evident to you. Ignoring that, you grew worried. “Yeah but…” you began, “What if something like this happened between two drunk friends at a bar or something? Does that mean someone will be pressed charges?” “Well, are you two…friends?” Ted questioned with a raised eyebrow. Silence came over you, along with a heap of embarrassment. “….no…” you muttered low. Closing your eyes, you sighed. Your disgraceful behavior had caused shame, it was obvious. Shaking his head, Ted crossed his legs, his deep, brown skin shining from the fluorescent light as he ran his hand over his bald head. “…as I was saying, before getting interrupted…” he looked at you sternly, to which you mouthed an apology, “… pressing charges would be the usual practice, but it seems that Mr. Henderson was more than generous and decided to not do either of that…” your eyes widened instantly by his words, “…except he demands some things in return…” “Which are?…” “A public statement of apology” “Oh…” “And immediate termination of your job at Wayne Enterprises…” “WHAT????” You yelled. Gripping on to both arms of the chair, you involuntarily looked at both Ted and your Boss. Could this really be your worse nightmare come to life? Did you really punch yourself into your own undoing? “Calm down, kid!” Ted raised both his hands, “Damn! let me finish…” he muttered under his breath worriedly, to which you nodded. Whilst taking deep breaths, you watched him continue: “Yes, his latter request seems a bit exaggerated, the Board completely agreed on that. However, your performance will be considered for a special evaluation during the upcoming few months. And then the board will come to confirmation whether to keep you in the company or not. It’s just a special precaution. I’m sure it’s not a big deal” There really was no apt response for any of this. All you could do was to let the silence take over. All the sudden, you felt nothing but emotionally exhausted. Sensing this, Ted offered a sympathetic glance. “Just keep your head down and read the statement, kid” he said, getting up “The press will be arriving at around 11:30…Good Luck!” Giving a nod to your boss, Ted headed out, leaving the two of you alone. At last. Lillian Foster, Head of the HR Department at Wayne Enterprises, was no doubt, an exceptionally brilliant woman. Rising through the ranks in the department with ease, she holds the position of Head at the age of 40, and possibly one of the youngest black women of power in this company. And this was possibly the longest period she had ever been silent with you.

And it frightened you.

With the density of silence increasing in the atmosphere, you kept looking down. You simply did not have the heart to look back at her. Along with the silence, the tension was equally thick, enough to be sliced into several stacks. Which begged the question: who will speak up first? Being the perpetrator, it seemed only fair you speak up. Except, she finally did before you could. “I had to watch this…” She began calmly, “…for more than ten times…just to even understand and accept that it was you doing it”. Though she was calm, the disappointment in her was evident, “How did you think I feel?” Your heart grew heavy. Nothing felt worse than disappointing Lillian. Not only was she your boss, she was also your mentor. She was the woman who took you in like family from your very first day in the company. In the company with a majority of men, she was a maternal figure, a sibling and teacher. You owed her to the stars. Clearly her question was a rhetorical one, for she continued: “You should be really grateful that Mr. Wayne was kind enough to bail you out himself. That’s as kind as you can get” she said, getting up from her chair to walk over to you, “The man must have woken up from the right side of his bed that morning…praise that man!” The shape of her heavily pregnant belly was quite visible in her navy blue dress. Yet she managed to handle everything with the boss persona that she owned so well. Taking the seat next to you, it was only fair to match her eye-line with yours. “Last week, I was so sure and ready to leave the responsibilities to you, and take my maternity leave with liberty…”she continued with a sigh,“But now…I’m beginning to get worried…” “Don’t say things like that, Lillian…” You shook your head frantically, “Just think of the baby…” you said, pointing at her belly. You still remember the number of times you spoke to that belly with adoration, hoping the little one inside would hear you. “I don’t understand…” Lillian said with frustration, “I’ve never seen you like this…”she said with concern, “Sure, you had a hard time with your temper with some people on the first few years here..” “Cause the people were jerks-” You added through gritted teeth, instantly recalling the horrible staff mistreating you back then. “Yes they were…” She nodded, “But then you realized, being in HR means we have to put up with all that, but still be the ones people turn to…” she spoke with such eloquence, “…handle everything with a smile and composure…” she added, making you nod, “And I’ve seen you grow… and do many great things…”, you smiled upon hearing that. “But punching someone?”Her informal tone just broke free, “What the hell?” “I really don’t know why, Lillian…” You replied with honesty and equal frustration, “I wish you were there…you didn’t hear the things that man said about Mr.Wayne…about the company” your jaw tightened, “…that man maybe the new CEO of Henderson Incorporated, but he had no class!” “But still-” “-violence is never the answer…I know” With a sigh, You finished her sentence. Silence followed suit for a few seconds. Until Lillian’s lips finally curved upright. “I kept hearing the others say how badass you were…” she said, with a chuckle. You turned to her, suppressing a smile, “A part of me wants to agree…but… how can I?” She said, tilting her head. Chuckling back, you shook your head once again. “And I don’t want you to either…” you replied, “It was just a massive screw up…” Taking a deep breath, you groaned as you covered your face: “And now…I have to fix it” you said, looking up. “Do you have those pearl earrings with you?” Lillian asked. You nodded: “It’s in my bag, always…” “Good…” She said, getting up, “You’re gonna need them! ”

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(Evening)

The Mikimoto pearl earrings, possibly were the most expensive, most precious pieces of jewelry you ever possessed. The mere glance of it always reminded you of the hard work and effort put into saving enough money to purchase a worthy pair of the famous brand of pearl earrings, for pearls were your favorite. And you were glad of your purchase, for it always brought class to any occasion.

Including making a public apology before the entire press of Gotham City.

Leaning forward against the back of the couch, you folded your arms, watching your own zoomed image on the television screen. It was the Late Night News, and the Apology was broadcasted once again on the News Rerun. Allison did not miss this. Sitting on the couch, her eyes were glued to the screen with concern. You both watched. The flashing lights of the cameras attacking you selfishly, symbol of greedy journalists on the mission to get the perfect shot of your remorse. In your formal office attire of skirt and jacket, the earrings highlighted your face, as you stood behind the podium alongside many representatives of Wayne Enterprises, including Ted Hawthorne. When you watched yourself read the speech, you remembered the words echoing in your head:

“….I would like to extend my sincerest apologies to Mr. Erik Henderson. It was not…” you watched yourself pause,

“…my intention to cause him such harm and pain. I am aware that my actions were tainted with irresponsibility and unprofessional-ism. I would also like to apologize to all staff in the hotel, and to all the other customers present that evening. My actions, as I mentioned earlier, were simply irresponsible and certainly not to be ignored so easily. I will make sure to adhere to the necessary measures that will be taken by Wayne Enterprises to compensate the loss and shame I have brought upon them. Thank you! That’ll be all”

“You did good, Sweetie…” Allison murmured gently, as the both of you watched the version of you on the screen slowly exit the podium. The screen transitioned over to the News Anchor in the studio:

“…However, several eyewitnesses have anonymously claimed the attack could indeed be provoked by Henderson himself, by making comments of defamation against billionaire socialite Bruce Wayne, of Wayne Enterprises…”

Your stomach formed a knot the second a video of Bruce Wayne was played. Possibly from that night. But the knot tightened with pain as you saw the woman who stood next to him. “Quick question…” Allison asked, pointing at the screen, “Was that Natasha person really pretty as she looks on camera?” “Nah…not really…” You flatly replied, folding your arms. Except a few seconds later, you realized you merely said that out of spite. Because you felt sour. And it was not true, “What am I saying? Of course she was pretty …” you chuckled, “She is pretty, just like you”. Shifting towards your direction, Allison sensed your emotion. After all, she was a woman too. With her blonde tresses illuminated by the lights of the television in the midst of the dark room, Allison’s expression changed. It was difficult to decipher, but it changed. “Sweetie…” She uttered with sympathy. A vacuum began to form within you, and you found it hard to breathe. Unable to take that in, you merely shrugged your shoulders. “Well that’s it…you saw the speech…” you said, pointing at the screen nonchalantly, “Goodnight, Ali…” your greeting was short, walking away before she could even respond. The door closed quietly behind you. Staring at the comfortable bed, all you longed was to get in it. Feeling the bouncy mattress brushing against your knees, you slowly crawled across the bed until you reached the window in the corner. The pavement was clearly visible as you opened it. Observing the hubbub outside, your mind began to wonder, it began to ponder. You did it. You gave the speech. And being in your good behavior was never going to be an issue, since you were never a troublemaker.

Therefore, why must you be filled with such emptiness?

“Never underestimate the power of probability…”

“You’ll have to be more specific”

“We will see each other again…”

“I think…I like Bruce Wayne...”

Looking at your bandaged right hand, you sighed heavily. Of course, you knew why.

Ever since that fateful day, ever since you were brave enough to admit to yourself how you had accidentally fallen for Bruce Wayne, he was all you could think of. Every waking moment, every thought flavored with leisure, it seemed as if he had secretly kept you company in your heart. You kept recalling that conversation in his Lamborghini, which seemed far from superficial. The manner in which he treated your wounds and healed you, the manner in which he bailed you out of jail himself, they were certainly many a kind and intimate acts rolled up into a singular moment. No wonder you were blissful in the corners of your imagination during the Wi-fi breakdown that weekend. Like a woman glancing upon her hand with a new engagement ring, you took the pleasure of glancing at your right hand every single time with a smile and giggles that soon followed. After ages, you were stirred by someone. He excited you, he made you look forward to the days ahead. For it would open the door to so many possibilities. One being the possibility of bumping into him again. You had fallen for him so hard and so fast, you chose to still keep the thin bandages on, even it was no longer necessary.

For the bandage was merely the physical remnant of his concern, his kindness to you.

But, when the sun rose on Monday, and the cold, hard reality hit you in the face in so many forms, you were forced to face the bitterness as well. Bruce Wayne was wrong. You could estimate the power of probability, for the probability of meeting someone like him again was certainly low. With you being a mere Senior Manager in his company, and him the sole owner of his family inherited business, it seemed literally impossible to win his heart. Always photographed and seen with women of beauty, power, class and high society, he was indeed a man of regality. Meanwhile, you were just a middle-class Gotham native, currently sharing an average apartment with her friend, hoping for an upgrade in life. You closed the window, yet permitting the city lights to rest on your bed as you crawled under the sheets. You chuckled to yourself. Funny how you desired for someone of the least attainability, yet searching for a thread of hope. His kindness that day was certainly a product of sheer pity. In truth, it could be a possibility that you were merely fooling yourself. Besides, in technicality, he was indirectly your boss, your employer. Thus, causing these feelings to be unprofessional to the fullest, something you never stood up for.

Silly crush, it was just a silly crush. Just a silly crush, you thought to yourself. Why must you fall for people this fast? A trait that you clearly despised. A weakness indeed. Running your fingers through your hair, you held out your right hand in front of you. The tightly wrapped bandage stared at you with innocence. That symbol. It was his reminder. But also the reminder of your foolishness, and the reminder of your pain. It had to go. That was the only way. Through gritted teeth, you slowly peeled it off from your skin. Sincerely hoping your feelings would be peeled off from your poor heart as well. For they were an inconvenience.

Especially when they seemed so hopeless.

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(One Week Later)

The Annual Charity Dinner of the Wayne Foundation, had always targeted to raise massive funds for the most essential of charities that needed financial assistant. It was also an event that never failed to cause stress on you. Whether it was the overseeing, planning, and of course, tending to the guests.

But this year, it was the polar opposite for you.

“I’ll gladly be checking everything on the night…” you assured to Lillian few days before, “But I am not attending the dinner…” you insisted with much exaggeration. Truthfully, you pleaded, “It’s bad enough I caused enough embarrassment already…” you added, rubbing your temples with frustration.

And with very little chance of Bruce Wayne attending, there was no reason to attend at all. Wait! your brows furrowed at that thought. Why would that even matter?

Two hours before commencement, the HR organizing staff had gathered in the Hotel Banquet Hall. Whilst the waiters continued to set up the tables and decorations, you held responsibility in briefing the group. With your juniors and colleagues all dressed to the formal nine’s, you chose to punish yourself with all black semi-formal attire instead, in the form of black pants and a sequin embellished top with spaghetti straps. Regardless, you managed to fit in with the help of your rouge lipstick, which made an astounding difference.

“I believe all you are familiar with the schedule already…” your voice was rife with clarity, “….so to sum it all up: Make sure the guests arrive after proper check up…” you continued, as the others took notes nodding, “….make sure the drinks are served on time, make sure the entertainment will be ready when the starters are being served, and make sure-”

“-not to punch anyone?”

The sudden inquiry from Greg, caused unintentional laughter amongst the whole group. Nodding along to the silliness that was yet to be forgotten, you smiled tightly.

“Yes! Exactly, Greg!” You said, looking at everyone, “Don’t get too drunk and punch anyone like I did…” inciting more laughter, “Okay? Well...Good Luck! And Enjoy!”

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

An hour had passed. You listened to the speeches and the formalities made. You coordinated the needful with the convenience of a walkie talkie. You ticked away every task on your notepad. All the while you were willingly caged in the VIP sitting room right next to the Hall. Finally, with the toasts were in completion, Dinner was served, Live entertainment was ready, the real fun had begun. And you were finally free. Yet, with you choosing to remain in the room, you figured you deserved all the similar luxuries at your own privacy.

Which also included alcohol.

A young waiter entered the room with a bubbly persona. "Good Evening, Ma'am. You ordered Whiskeys for two, am I correct?" he inquired, subtly looking around as you approached him. “You certainly are…" you replied with an equal bubbly tone, "You see…One for this guy…" you said, as you left hand picked up one glass, "...and One for this bad boy right here” you added when your right hand took the other. "Cheers!" you sniggered, watching the unimpressed waiter walk away shaking his head. You did not blame him. Your jokes were only so-so.

This unexpected pressure to be on your best behavior certainly did not help you with your patience, forcing you to drink even without a scrap on food in your stomach. A sense of freedom was always offered to you the moment the whiskey touched your lips. Suddenly all the stress that littered in your brain were gone, and it felt nothing but sparkly fresh. The moment the alcohol began to wind your body up like a toy, you knew music was the one missing element.

A cool spray of dance synth reached your ears in a progressive manner. Hearing the first few seconds of the song, you were intoxicatingly elated to find out what the song was. Freeing your tresses from the constraints of the half ponytail, you stood up from your armchair, swaying to the introductory verse of “Eyes on You” by M-22, Arlissa and Kiana Ledé :

“When I feel your tempo and I hear you echo Don't let go, don't let go You set the rhythm, I take my position Position, position...”

Your chest began to pop in double time as the song progressed to a faster pace. Infused with the side swaying, your drink however remained intact. Taking another sip whilst you danced, your right hand forced you to glance at it. There may have not been a bandage anymore, but the thin healing scars were visible enough to bring the reminder: Bruce Wayne.

“Can't take my eyes off you, my eyes off you No matter what you do, no, no way...”

Throwing your head back, the body slowly rolled in rhythm. During which that mind of yours, truly began to wonder about the craziest things. Would he, the great Bruce Wayne, enjoy this? Would you be better at this than the other girls he had been with combined? With eyes closed, the confidence in your dancing swelled. He was indeed quite desirable, that Bruce Wayne. Your drunken self was clearly unfiltered with opinions. Ah! Bruce Wayne.

“Ahem!" Someone cleared their throat, forcing you to quickly open your eyes.

Only to find the actual Bruce Wayne, standing a few feet before you. And just right then, the heart did not hesitate to signal its beat to increase in deathly speed.

Like fuckin’ beetle juice, you thought to yourself.

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

Sharply dressed as always, never did Bruce Wayne fail to look attractive, ever. Truthfully, it seemed possibly impossible for him to do so. Though your body reacted to the sight of him with devotion, your intoxicated heart had other plans.

“Ah! Mr. Wayne! ” You cried out louder than you should. Lifting your glass, the intoxication was evident in your tone, “Welcome …to my Private party…”, followed by a giggle, “…You here to tinkle?” Your inquiry was full of mischief.

“Actually…Yes, I am…” the Billionaire replied. How exactly he said it, you had difficulty remembering, “Are you alright?” He asked with concern. A concerned voice laced with his signature softness. You scoffed with disbelief. “Me? I’m FINNNE!” You answered, your last word seemingly elongated and possibly dragged, “But …wait a minute…” squinting one’s eyes, you pointed at him bravely, “W-Why do you keep…seeing me drunk??”, You slurred, “WAIT! You know what?…” you cried out, before he could even answer, “Don’t care…” you said proudly, as you turned away. “Gonna quit this job anyways…” you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes. Yet you danced, in hopes he would stand there and watch you. You danced, in hopes he would have a spark of interest somehow. With your intoxication unlocking the doors to the inner desires of your heart, you now had access to them all. And that was what you actually desired for. His attraction, his approval, his validation, his love. Taking in more sips to burn your tongue, you felt braver and energized. You felt cheeky too, in fact.

You wanted to turn back, facing him with such confidence that he could not resist you. But you only managed to sink your heart instead.

For he was gone.

Landing on the armchair once again, you wondered if what you just saw, was just an illusion. Regardless, you knew one thing for sure: You never felt so foolish. Gulping down the last of your drink, you collapsed to the armchair once again. Clarity had finally dawned on you: You were never really over him. You were just that stupid, foolish girl, hopeless about someone who will never care back.

Curse these emotions! This heaviness that lingered in your chest burdened you. Unrequited emotions could never be as torturous as this. For it would be the constant sadness that will remain. Desire leads to impatience, impatience leads to disappointment. The disappointing fact that Bruce Wayne will never look your way, even though you hope to.

You have never felt sorry for yourself. But being drunk, it was easier to do so. And with your inhibitions lowered in a rush, it did not take long for that pitiful heart to sink in further deep. And it certainly did not take long for the tears to slowly form around your eyes as well.

The truth was to be faced, you were worthless, you were never good enough for him. Blind and hopeless, this was just a ridiculous idea in the first place. Bowing your head down, you allowed your self to cry softly, reaching out for the other glass. Tonight, it seemed the only company you had were the echoing music, the burning alcohol and your salty, never ending tears. Truthfully, they may possibly be obliged to keep you company forever.

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

Two glasses of whiskey got you incredibly intoxicated, especially with no food in your system. As it should. Yet, you were conscious enough to make an exit before causing any more trouble to anyone ever again. Sneaking out into the lobby from the secret exit of the room, you managed to head out in peace. With your handbag slung over your shoulder, you were on a dire attempt to wipe off the smudged mascara, sniffing softly as you exited the hotel.

Only to sigh in frustration when there were no taxis at this hour.

With the possession of two working legs on you, it was decided to walk further down the city to hail one. Unexpectedly, you found yourself walking down a smaller street, dark and lonely.

“Can't take my eyes off you, my eyes off you No matter what you do, no, no way…”

You sang to yourself quite lazily, as you made your way. Clang! The sound of a garbage bin falling down made you halt. Quickly turning back, you felt a slight dizziness in your head. Holding your head to stop the spinning, you took a few deep breaths. But when you looked back, there seemed to be nothing. Rats maybe, you thought, turning forward to resume your walk.

Only to scream as you found three men standing before you. Dressed in ragged, dull clothing, two of the men held out guns, while the other stood empty handed. Muggers, possibly?

“Gimme your wallet, Lady!”

The man wearing a beanie yelled out threateningly, brandishing his gun at you. Confirmed, they were indeed muggers. Though intoxication was in your system, sobriety took over for a few minutes to save your life.

“Okay…” you slurred, “…take it easy” you added calmly. The man furrowed his eyebrows. “You bossing me, bitch?” He yelled angrily.   “No! No! I was… talking to myself…” You answered quickly. Putting both hands up, you took a deep breath, “Let me just slowly…reach into my bag…” you said, while your right hand dug into the bag with certainty, “….and-ah shit!” Your heart sank immediately. “WHAT IS IT??” “I left my wallet…” you answered in all honesty, “ I-” “PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS IN THE AIR!!” The man bellowed. “Okay okay okay…” You responded. Maintaining your composure to much surprise, you tried not to stumble, “Listen…gentlemen…” you added, “This is not worth the trouble, okay?” You took a deep breath, “I’m drunk… and from the looks of it…” you showed your two hands, “…incredibly destitute! I have nothing to offer you-” You paused. The empty handed man was surprisingly quiet compared to the other two. Your eyes widened the moment he decided to finally weaponize himself, with a knife instead.

Seeing the sharp, shiny object, sent immediate signals of fear throughout your system. This man, he seemed to be more in control of his actions. His features were ambiguous, yet he seemed certain.

Very certain of the fact he will kill you tonight.

Before you could even flee, the other two had you surrounded from both sides. With your heart beating fast, your breath began to quicken. If money was out of your reach, then why would they still bother?

“What? Why are you doing that? Did I offend you in some way?” You pattered, watching the knife wielding man, “Did you think I was underestimating my self worth or something-ah crap! You’re coming closer” you said meekly, seeing the man confidently walk towards you. Leaving no choice, you put your bare fists up in defense. Yet you groaned with fear, “Oh!...Why the hell am I talking so much when I’m nervous-” The moment you almost felt the side of the knife graze your arm, the moment you almost had your life taken, your eyes caught the sight of a giant black figure jumping on top of him. “ARGH!!” Falling on your back from the indirect push, you looked on to see the knife wielder cry out loudly. You sat up, gasping as you watched the him being incapacitated, and instantly tied to the nearest pipe. All by that Dark Figure. The figure whose cloak blew to the side by the sudden gust of wind.

It was Batman. In the flesh.

Distressed, the other two muggers began to fire shots, only to have those pitiful bullets be deflected weakly, leaving them powerless even with their weapons. Batman charged towards them in the form of a walk, whilst they kept shooting, all until their bullets finally ran out. Skillfully avoiding their amateur punches and kicks, Batman’s responsive blows were godlike by nature, leaving them down on the ground faster than expected. With added aching pains. Getting up on your feet, you watched the caped crusader tie them up.

“You alright?” He asked, in a gruff voice. You nodded frantically, awestruck by his power and presence. “Yeah…” you replied, clasping both hands together, “My god…That was-” “Hey Ma’am! Do you want me to call 911?” An older, good samaritan cried out from the other side of the street. It was possible he may have heard gunshots from a mere few seconds ago. Looking over to him, you smiled. “Yeah, that would great, Thanks” you yelled back politely. Sighing with relief, you knew your gratitude was deserved by someone else, “And thank-” You quickly towards Batman, “….you” Only to find him gone. Poof! Disappeared into thin air.

The culprits appeared far from powerful as they rolled around and groaned in pain, hands tied to various stationary objects on the ground. You could not fathom what just happened. But most importantly, you could not believe you were still alive. All thanks to him. The Dark Knight.

Your heartbeat increased once again. To make matters worse, a strange feeling formed in your stomach, a feeling that traveled all over your body. It made you uneasy and sweaty. Not to mention the quickened breathing. Before you could even dare to decipher these sudden effects, life decided to answer that riddle for you. The moment you collapsed to the ground to hurl up a thin stream of vomit. As you went through the horrid process, your tongue certainly was stained with the taste of whiskey and bile. “Er…Ma’am?” You heard the kind man from afar once again, “Are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m good…” you said hoarsely, waving your hand with assurance, “I’m good…I-Argh!-”

Assurance had very little battery life when you continued to vomit even more. An apt punishment for drinking two whiskeys on an empty stomach. You earned this for sure.

——————————————————

Chapter 3 HERE!

Tagged: @tealaquinn @ladyerina @kittenlittle24 @wholesumm @everyday-imfangirling @depressed-comrad @works-of-fanfiction @bale-is-a-babe @thats-aight @badsext

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #244: "AND THE ROCKET'S RED GLARE!"

June, 1984

The Wraiths walk among us!

Actually, the Dire Wraiths would be a good answer for what the imposters in Among Us are. They're imposters, they can shapeshift, and they have deadly tongues.

I think I've cracked this case wide open.

Anyway, we go straight from Secret Wars into another event, although this is a crossover called Wraith War and mostly a story arc in the ROM book but with tie-ins to Avengers, X-Men, and Fantastic Four. In fairness, we were told the Avengers would be getting involved with the Dire Wraiths before Secret Wars went on sale.

That's the life of a superhero. One day, getting raptured to a toy commercial and the next, fighting alien shapeshifters who aren't Skrulls or Space Phantoms.

Last time: half the Avengers were involved in the Secret Wars, the other Avengers hung around and had small adventures. Then the first half of the Avengers returned. And Wasp quit as chairperson so Vision could take over with his big plans like establishing a second Avengers team.

This time: a nice boat.

The nice boat is chilling on the Banana River outside the John F. Kennedy Space Center when a ball of light swoops down on it.

But with Captain Marvel on the Avengers, sometimes a ball of light is her and not the Beyonder bodyjacking people.

Monica returns from patrol to report no suspicious activity at the space center and also to compliment this sweet boat.

Remember how she was in the market for a boat as part of whatever new job she’s cooking up for when she’s not Avengersing.

Well, this is Wasp’s yacht and it’s real nice.

Vision pops up through the deck to tell the two to join everyone else below for a strategy sesh.

It’s kind of a casual strategy session. Half the Avengers are dressed down.

Wasp is in a bathing suit with a neckerchief around her neck. Wanda took off the body stocking part of her costume so looks like she’s wearing a swimsuit despite the boots. And Starfox decides when in Rome and takes his shirt off.

Wasp isn’t even chairperson anymore and she’s still telling some men to undress and this time its Steve Rogers. She only gets him to take off the civilian clothes that he’s wearing above his costume though.

And only as a concession to the heat. They’re in FLORIDA and he’s dressed in layers. I live in Florida and sometimes one layer is too many layers.

Also, Steve America muses on how they were only back from Secret Wars a few hours when Wasp stepped down as chairperson in favor of Vision but he describes Secret Wars as “our confrontation with that... that Beyonder” which is technically accurate but not really how I would describe Secret Wars.

But that’s the hazard of writing about something in the past that hasn’t come out yet. Can’t really have Steve say “that confrontation with the most recent time Doom swallowed an energy field bigger than his head” because that would spoil the game and also maybe that plot point didn’t exist yet. Although the seeds are there from the start.

I would have just had Steve say “back from that Secret War TM” or “back from being kidnapped by the Beyonder.” Go with what’s clear and obvious from issue 1.

New Chairman The Vision summarizes the plot.

New Chairman The Vision: “All right, Avengers... just as a review, we’ll be meeting at the cape with General Bridges within the hour to discuss a number of supposed accidents... Accidents which Washington suspects may be sabotage caused by alien creatures known as Dire Wraiths. The government has managed to suppress information of most wraith activities -- but the space center is too much in the public eye. Eventually, word will leak out. We must do something!”

Captain America: “You’re right on that count, Vision! If an alien life-form attacked the space-center, there could be worldwide panic!”

And as soon as he says this, there’s an explosion on the test-pad.

Talk about timing!

The Avengers leap immediately into action!

Wasp just heads into action in her swimsuit because its not the first time she’s had an adventure in her swimsuit. Her powers are entirely internalized by this point. But its impressive for Wanda because she puts the bodysuit part of her outfit back on without seemingly taking off the leotard part.

Chaos magic? Chaos magic.

Also, they leave Wanda to anchor the yacht and then follow in a skiff so its not like she needed to get dressed magically between panels. She just decided to.

When the Avengers arrive there’s a massive cloud of smoke covering the launchpad and they spot some men dashing into the smoke instead of away from it.

Captain Marvel returns from scouting and mentions that the damage is confined to the test-pad gantries and that there’s not all that much damage.

But then there’s a loud KROOM second explosion which takes down the main supports. The rocket booster on the test-pad starts tipping over so Starfox, Captain Marvel, and Vision rush to try to stop it.

One of the attackers, the Rocketeers, says a few more mini missiles will take the launch-pad out of commission but exposition isn’t a free action and he gets WHUNK’d by Captain America’s mighty shield.

And if that weren’t enough to make him yield, Wasp shoots him in the nipple.

Wasp: “Let’s have no complaints out of you! I can make my Wasp-stings a lot nastier than that!”

Yeah, that guy is lucky she didn’t use one of her patented ‘can blow up a small house’ Wasp-stings. His nipple would never have been the same.

Vision and Starfox catch the rocket booster before it smashes into the ground but Captain Marvel zips around it and spots major fuel leaks.

Since it’s going to explode even if they gently set it down, the two huck it into the Atlantic.

Then the three start lifting rubble and rescuing those injured from any of the mini-missile explosions.

Over at Cap(tain America) and Wasp, they’ve beaten up all the Rocketeers but one. Good job you two! By some accounts the two least powerful among the Avengers present and yet you’ve kicked some ass.

The Last Rocketeer: “You may have stopped my buddies, but you won’t stop me!”

Wasp: “Oh, brother! If you only knew how many times we’ve heard those words -- !”

Captain America: “Don’t embarrass the man, Wasp! He’s in enough trouble as it is!”

Wow, if its not enough that they’ve beaten up all his friends and are about to beat him up, they just burned him so bad that I don’t know if he’ll survive.

The guy throws a lawn dart bomb at Cap and the Wasp. Cap tells Wasp to get behind his shield but the bomblet sharply veers up with a ninety degree turn.

Wow, how improbable!

If you guessed that Wanda showed up after parking the yacht, you guessed right.

And then Wasp shoots the Last Rocketeer in the eyes. His goggles did nothing.

Even though the Rocketeers were wrapped up pretty easily, Vision suggests that they had help since they knew exactly when and where to strike.

But a Dire Wraith shaped silhouette watching this fight from afar reflects that the Avengers are skilled and decides to unleash THE MISTS OF THE DARK NEBULA.

Which is a thick fog. But wait! There’s more! The fog is like a mind-numbing gas and makes the Avengers slow to respond, even Vision who only breathes out of social obligation. And it rouses the Rocketeers who escape into the fog.

Vision follows after them, less affected than the others, but he gets bowled over by the Rocketeers taking off with their rocket packs which presumably given them their names.

As soon as the Rocketeers escape, the fog conveniently disperses.

The Avengers go around making sure they’re all alright but when Cap(tain America) asks Vision, he claims that he is a lot more resilient than “an organic man” and tells Cap not to waste concern on him when there are injured people to be helped.

Wasp, in her thoughts: “Sounds like the only thing wounded was his pride!”

While the Avengers carry injured people to arrived ambulances, Vision castigates himself for the failure.

Vision: “We failed! My first official battle as Avengers leader, and the enemy got away! I suppose I should find solace in the knowledge that the sabotage was cut short and lives were saved... but I cannot!”

“I must not allow myself to be satisfied by anything less than total victory... Not if my long-range plans are to succeed! The Avengers must ferret out the power behind the Rocketeers and bring it down! The trust of the world could depend on it!”

That’s a completely non-ominous thing to think, Vizh.

Also, maybe you could help?

Meanwhile, over at Los Angeles International Airport, Hawkeye and Mockingbird arrive traveling as a perfectly normal couple. Hawkeye wanted to bring his arrows on as carry-on but yeah. Hard to explain that to the TSA.

... Wait, did the Avengers not have a spare Quinjet to send Hawkeye in?

Anyway, Bill Foster meets them at the airport. He’s local to LA and has been checking out some real estate leads for the West Coast Avengers base.

WEST COAST AVENGERS!

It continues to be approaching.

Are we going to get Bill Foster on the team? We haven’t seen him in Avengers for what feels like ever.

But enough of West Coast Avengers, there’s more Dire Wraiths plot to do.

Back at the Cape of Canaveral, General Bridges introduces the Avengers to the very high-strung Dr. Woodrow Cather, the highest ranking civilian scientist.

Cather flips out on seeing the Avengers and asks why they’re here. I guess nobody debrief him on all the explosions.

General Bridges has a slideshow for just this instance and activates a projector to show everyone a Dire Wraith.

The ROM Space Knight and Dire Wraiths plot has been going on for about fifty issues in ROM’s own book by this point so there’s some amount of exposition that just shotgunned in one page.

The Dire Wraiths are an offshoot of the Skrulls, apparently. Except instead of just shapeshifting they have a more predatory method of camouflage. They attack a victim with a drill-like tongue, eat their brains, and assume their forms while the original person is reduced to ashes.

At least, that’s how female Dire Wraiths work.

The Dire Wraiths are like the Badoon in having some truly wild sexual dimorphism and a high degree of hostility between the sexes. The female Dire Wraiths prefer sorcery and the males SCIENCE. Except there was a war of the sexes over differences in their plans for conquering Earth and the women Wraiths won and became the dominant Wraiths.

The Rocketeers that attacked the launchpad today are similar to a group of male SCIENCE Wraiths who also called themselves Rocketeers and attacked Clairton, West Virginia.

So Vision suspects that a group of male Wraiths survived the war of the sexes and are up to Something.

General Bridges isn’t really concerned with the nuances of who and how people are attacking the launch site. He just wants it all to stop.

Dr. Cather is leading the ion-drive project and its already in trouble because most funds have been diverted to the space shuttle program.

General Bridges doesn’t think the ion drive is a target, OR worth attacking (ouch), because none of the sabotage has struck it yet. Bridges thinks the Space Shuttle should get priority attention and decides he’ll call a full battalion to help the Avengers guard it.

Vision disagrees.

He pulls rank and forbids calling in any backup.

Captain America: “You’ll have to excuse us, gentlemen! Our chairman... has plans of his own!”

I BET HE DOES!

Meanwhile, continuing the Quicksilver subplot, it’s Quicksilver.

He Lockjaws down to Transia, Earth to go recruit Bova to be nursemaid for his baby but to his startlement he finds that her cabin has been destroyed.

Big mystery for Quicksilver but followers of this going-slightly-above-and-beyond liveblog will know that Magneto trashed it while interrogating Bova for information about his children.

Wanda and Pietro already rejected Magneto as their dad for being a jerk plus the jerky way he’s treated them. I imagine learning he terrorized a poor cow woman won’t soften their hearts to him.

Anyway, back to the Dire Wraiths plot.

The Rocketeer Dire Wraiths are sitting around and complaining about how the Avengers kicked their butts and they didn’t know humans could be so strong. But what they’re really concerned about is the Dark Nebula Mist.

That’s clearly the sign of the Dire Wraith sisterhood but why would they help the science Wraiths if not some weird mind game to flush them out.

One of the Rocketeers declares that the sisterhood’s intervention gives them a chance to complete their work. Sure, overt sabotage will be hard with the Avengers hanging around like they don’t have anything better to do. And sure, they’ll set up detection equipment. But the Avengers won’t suspect that the Rocketeers will have jamming watches that’ll let them avoid detection.

That’s why Science Wraithing is so rad.

The next morning, the Avengers are spread out throughout the Space Center.

Captain Marvel is standing sentry on top of the vehicle assembly building. Starfox is at launch complex 39A thinking patronizing thoughts about the Space Shuttle.

Starfox: “They call this a space ship? Charming.”

And Wasp watches over the ion-drive rocket.

Meanwhile, Vision, Captain America, and Scarlet Witch are in the security command post watching the cameras with the special detection systems.

If I remember Linkara’s Romtrospective, the special detection systems are probably based on Rom’s Analyzer, which he let SHIELD examine.

Anyway, Scarlet Witch switches to a random monitor to demonstrate that so far so good, pointing at monitor three and its entirely unsuspicious group of technicians.

Vision: “No problem?!? There’s a very big problem!! Can’t you see?!”

Turns out that Vision has better vision, hah, than a human. And with his special eyes he sees that those four technicians are NOT WHAT THEY SEEM.

He immediately grabs the microphone to the PA and announces DANGEROUS INTRUDERS and for everyone to evacuate the area immediately.

The four intruders make a mad dash to the ion-drive ship but Starfox does them a drive by punching.

Starfox: “Good morning, gentlemen! Since you aren’t evacuating the premises, might I assume that you’re our intruders? Hmmm?”

I’ll reveal a cursed secret. If it weren’t for Starfox’s special pleasure beam powers, I wouldn’t have a problem with him. He can be pretty fun sometimes.

Captain Marvel also zips over in light form and then re-assumes her meat form.

One of the Dire Wraiths: “Strike while she is helpless in her corporeal form!”

Captain Marvel: “Helpless?”

Never assume Captain Monica Marvel is helpless just because she’s made of meat. She was a boat cop, dammit.

Its a well known fact that all boat cops that get superpowers and join the Avengers, know how to flip a jerk.

Anyway, Dr. Woodrow Cather, the highest ranking civilian scientist, also runs towards the ion-drive rocket despite the evacuation order.

Dr. Woodrow Cather, the highest ranking civilian scientist: No need to worry soldier! I won’t be long at all... Once I’ve cut my ship off from ground control! I’m glad I returned to the test bunker last night. Otherwise, I might have been found like that the others! Their sabotage missions brought them to a bad end, just as I’d hoped! Now, their capture should be all the diversion I need -- to get away scot free!

Gasp! Dr. Woodrow Cather, the guy who was alarmed to see the Avengers involved is one of the Dire Wraiths and he’s dicking over his alien invader associates!

Is there no honor among alien invaders?

Scarlet Witch and Cap(tain America) arrive in Jeep to where Starfox and Cap(tain Marvel) are kicking the Dire Wraith ass. Scarlet Witch uses her do-anything powers to force the Dire Wraiths to assume their natural lumpy orange forms.

But then Dr. Woodrow Cather blasts off in the ion-drive rocket, luckily managing not to either blind nor burn to death anyone on the ground.

Captain Marvel zips after the rocket because speed of rocket is still way slower than the speed of light.

God, I love Monica’s powers.

The Dire Wraiths start bemoaning how they’ve been abandoned and betrayed but worse than that DOOOOOOOMED.

Cap(tain America) is like ‘come again?’

The Dire Wraiths explain that the ion-drive is actually a secret star-drive, that they cobbled together using whatever ‘backward technology’ they could get and sometimes just steal from other projects (I guess thats what the sabotage was? Covering the thefts?). But uh the red glow from the not-ion-drive exhaust is a bad sign.

It means that the engine is unstable and could explode like an anti-matter bomb at any time.

And to complete the hat trick of ‘rocket stolen’ and ‘rocket gonna explode and destroy a chunk of Earth’, Wasp was watching the rocket and is now trapped inside the command module, squashed against the bulkhead from the acceleration.

THE WORLD IS IN DANGER BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, THE WASP IS!

DAMN YOU DR. WOODROW CATHER, IF THATS YOUR REAL NAME!

Follow @essential-avengers because we like Wasp here. Wasp should be in more stuff in modern comics. Like and reblog as well but only if you think that the post is likeable and slash or rebloggable.

#Avengers #Dire Wraiths #the Vision #Scarlet Witch #Captain America #Captain Marvel #Monica Rambeau #Starfox #the Wasp #i miss she hulk #essential avengers #essential marvel liveblogging #the avengers are doing pretty well this issue #they got to chill out on a yacht and were pretty effective at dealing with the Wraiths #but still another issue to go

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ddixons-angel · 4 years

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Fated: Season 5

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)

A/N: Can you guys believe we’re in the middle of Season 5 already? I mean where did the time go?? Our group is finally at Alexandria, and a long awaited character is gonna finally be introduced so let’s get straight into it!

Chapter 8

At sunrise, Rick and the others had set out to Alexandria as they did not want to waste any time. With Rick in the car with Michonne, Carl and Judith, and Abraham in the RV with everyone else, they were well on their way to the community. They get there with little to no complications, the only one being the RV’s battery dying. Glenn was the one who solved that though as he had remembered Dale teaching him that there was always a spare battery in one of the RV’s compartments.

Now, the group stands outside the gates of the camp while Aaron helps Eric walk towards the gates. The gate begins to slide open and they’re greeted with a rather scared looking man. He only looked even more scared when Daryl shot a possum that had knocked into a few of the garbage cans, collecting his catch and calling it dinner. Aaron reassures the man that they are good people and he allows the group into Alexandria with all of their weapons. Another person from their community had come out to bring Eric to their infirmary as Aaron brought the group deeper into Alexandria.

As Aaron had described, this place definitely was a community. There were solar panels, large houses built side by side, a lake in the middle of everything, and even a gazebo to overlook the lake. Everything looked completely untouched, as if walkers didn’t exist and the end of the modern world didn’t happen.

“Are you guys seeing all of this?” Gloria asks, not believing her eyes as she looks around.

“I didn’t think this kind of place would still be around,” Maggie says, also looking around.

“This can work,” Glenn says with a smile, “we can make this work.”

“Seems a bit too good to be true though...” Gloria says, looking over at Daryl, “doesn’t it?”

He looks back at her and purses his lips but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he reaches out to her and grabs her hand in reassurance. Gloria glances down at their now intertwined hands and then back at him, smiling softly. The group stops walking as Aaron brings them to the front of a large house.

“Wait here for a bit, I’ll go and let Deanna know that you’re here. I think she’s going to want to speak to each and every one of you individually,” Aaron explains then with Rick’s nod of approval, he goes into the house.

Gloria furrows her brows at this, remembering that this is also what happened at Terminus, “I don’t like this...”

Glenn puts his hand on her shoulder and smiles at her reassuringly, “I know what you’re thinking, but I don’t get that vibe here. It might actually go okay for once.”

“I hope so...” she sighs, although she didn’t get a bad feeling from the place, she still didn’t like that the people in the community were ogling at them as if they were zoo animals.

Rick was the first to go into the house after Aaron came back out and let them all know that Deanna, the community’s apparent leader, was ready to see them. They were all relieved to see Rick come out of the house unharmed and then Daryl was next to go in. It wasn’t until he came back out of the house that Gloria’s nerves went down slightly. She didn’t know what it was about it, she didn’t see the people as threatening or dangerous. They were just going about their day while sneaking looks at their group but nothing menacing. Gloria was next to go in after Daryl as per Glenn’s instruction and he would follow suit.

“Deanna is a very kind and reasonable woman,” Aaron says as he walks Gloria to the living room of the house, he seems to have noticed how nervous she was and chuckles, “you can relax, you know.”

“I know... it’s just for some reason, I can’t shake the feeling of this being like going in for a job interview,” Gloria chuckles nervously and shrugs.

“Well, you’re not too far off.” Aaron smiles at her.

Before Gloria could ask him what he meant, Aaron had already knocked on the open door to the living room and directed her inside before taking his leave. She takes a few steps into the room and is greeted by an older woman with a smile.

“Hi, I’m Deanna. Pleased to meet you.” she says, extending her hand out for a polite shake.

Gloria takes her hand and shakes it firmly but before she’s able to introduce herself, a person sitting at the dining table catches her eye. She lets out a small gasp and her eyes widen at the sight. Deanna furrows her brows in her change of expression and follows her line of vision.

“Gena....” Gloria calls out.

The woman at the table looks up at the sound of her name and a look of shock overcomes her, “Gloria...”

Gena gets up from her seat and quickly makes her way over to Gloria, stopping in her tracks only a few steps away from her.

“I take it you two know each other?” Deanna says, a thoughtful smile on her face.

Gena nods without looking at Deanna, “she’s my little sister.”

Gloria smiles tearfully at her, relieved that she was alive and well. The sisters were never too close, even if their five year difference wasn’t a large age gap. Gloria couldn’t even remember how long it’s been since she hugged Gena, they’d spent most of their time arguing with each other. Glenn would always be the middleman and break up their fights, knowing that both sisters would listen to him rather than each other. Regardless of their strained relationship though, Gloria was happy that Gena was safe and alive.

“Glenn’s outside waiting if you want to see him,” Gloria says, gesturing outside knowing that Gena would want to see their brother.

“I’ll see him after,” Gena says, a stern smile on her face, “I still need to help Deanna with the interviews.”

“I won’t hold you up for too long so you can catch up with your family,” Deanna says with a chuckle, then she looks to Gloria and gestures to the single seater chair in front of a coffee table, “please, take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Gloria nods and goes to sit down on the chair Deanna had pointed to while the older woman goes to toggle a camcorder on a tripod.

“You don’t mind if our conversation is recorded, do you?” she asks, then she presses the button to record when Gloria shakes her head, “excellent, now... according to Rick and Daryl, you’ve all been out there since the beginning?”

Gloria nods in thought, “for the most part, yeah... we’ve moved around camps when places got overrun.”

“Where did you stay?” Deanna asks.

“At first a quarry camp, then a farm...” Gloria says then glances at Gena sheepishly, “then a prison...”

“A prison?” Gena questions, judgement in her voice.

“It was secure, we had fences, walls-” Gloria was cut short of her defense.

“Still! A prison?!” Gena repeats, disgust now evident in her voice.

“That’s enough, Gena. I’m sure they didn’t have much choice,” Deanna says in Gloria’s defense, “and who were you before all of this started?”

“I...” Gloria hesitates as she glances at Gena then at the ground, “I was a student...”

“What did you study?” Deanna presses.

“Health Sciences.” Gloria says, still not looking up at the two.

“She was studying to become a doctor.” Gena reveals.

“A doctor?” Deanna says, her voice sounding pleasantly surprised, “do you have any field experience?”

“I... I interned as a nurse, if that counts...” Gloria shrugs.

“What Deanna wants to know is if you’ve ever saved anyone.” Gena says, matter-of-factly, crossing her arms.

Gloria finally looks up at them and fidgets with her fingers, “I helped stop someone’s bleeding once.”

“Tell me what happened,” Deanna says, a warm smile on her face.

Gloria takes a deep breath before continuing, “when we got to the prison, we had to clear it out so that we could make it into a home or something like that, but things happened and... one of our people got bit, I’m guessing near his ankle, I didn’t see it really...”

“Bit? By a roamer?” Gena frowns at this, doubt in her voice.

“Yeah, by a roamer... we call them walkers, anyway... Rick took the initiative and cut off his leg just below the knee and brought him back to the cell blocks and that’s where I stopped his bleeding.” Gloria explains, her eyes kept glancing back down at the ground.

“And he lived?” Deanna asks.

“He did... for another few months...” Gloria sighs softly, “he didn’t make it out of the prison...”

Gena lets out a sigh and shakes her head, “what did I always teach you about wasting time? Why would you tell us a story about saving someone who’s already dead? If he’s dead, it doesn’t matter if you saved him or not.”

“It did matter!” Gloria says back, raising her voice.

“He’s dead.” Gena points out, glaring at her younger sister, “how does it matter if someone you once saved is dead?”

“Because he saved Glenn,” Gloria retorts, getting worked up and taking Gena aback, “his name was Hershel and he was a doctor. A flu pandemic hit the prison and we didn’t have enough antibiotics to go around, if you got it, you had to just go through with it... and that meant possibly dying, choking on your own blood. Me and Glenn got it... and it progressed faster with him... if I didn’t save Hershel and stop his bleeding, he wouldn’t have been able to save Glenn. So don’t you dare tell me that saving him didn’t matter!”

Deanna nods at her words as she stands in the tense silence between the sisters. Gena didn’t know what to say to that, and Gloria was visibly angered by her sister’s words about her fallen friend.

“I’m sorry about your loss, Gloria,” Deanna starts, “I feel that you are a person who does whatever you can to help a person, am I right?”

“I try...” Gloria says.

“I’d like to offer you a position as a medic in our infirmary. With your medical background and willingness to help people, I think you’ll work wonderfully with our head doctor, Pete.” Deanna smiles, “what do you say?”

Gloria stares at the woman, searching for any ill-intent but finds none. She figures that this was their way of paying admission into the community, giving back by working for her. Gloria thinks back to what she saw on the streets; peace and quiet, children playing innocently, a community protected by walls, and not a walker in sight. Having been on the road for weeks on end, this was the type of place her family needed, Carl and Judith can have an actual proper childhood. Glenn and Maggie could start their own family without needing to worry about whether or not they were safe. Even if Gloria didn’t like it here because of the people staring them down, she had to try for them, they deserved it.

“If my group decides to stay, I’ll accept,” Gloria smiles at Deanna, ignoring Gena’s grumbling of where else are they going to go.

“Bring Glenn in here,” Gena calls out as Gloria walks out of the room and towards the main door of the house.

Gloria rolls her eyes at Gena making Aaron, who was already waiting for her outside the room, laugh. Gena really didn’t care about being subtle that she cared more about Glenn than her. Not that Gloria cared at all since it was also obvious that Gloria cared more for Glenn than she did about Gena.

“Glenn,” Gloria calls as she steps out of the house, “you’ll never believe who’s in there.”

He furrows his brows at her, “what?”

She claps a hand on his shoulder to gently push him towards Aaron who was waiting for him at the door with a smile, “you’ll see.”

---

After Deanna had finished with all of the interviews from Rick’s group, they were taken to the building that housed the community’s armory. They’d agreed after meeting Deanna that they would give up their firearms temporarily; Deanna allowed them all to keep their bladed weapons, including Daryl’s crossbow. They were always allowed to reclaim them when they left the walls, but inside the walls their weapons would be kept, safe and secure in the armory. Then, Aaron had led them all to two large houses down the street. He’d surprised them all by telling them that these houses were now theirs, should they decide to stay. Rick ultimately decided to take the chance but kept a very wary eye out in case anything went wrong. One by one, they all got themselves cleaned up and situated in the living room where they had all decided to sleep tonight.

“I seriously can’t believe Gena’s here.” Glenn chuckles as he leans on the back of the couch.

“Neither can I...” Gloria sighs then she nudges Glenn, “so how hard did she hug you when she saw you?”

“She nearly burst into tears and bear hugged me,” he laughs softly, “what about you?”

Gloria eyes him playfully, “you’re kidding right?”

“I know you two barely ever hugged, but I just thought this would be a moment,” Glenn shrugs.

“C’mon, it’s me and Gena, we aren’t ever sharing any moments.” Gloria rolls her eyes at her brother’s optimism.

“One can hope,” Glenn chuckles.

“Glenn, Gloria,” Maggie calls as she walks down the hallway, her hair looking freshly washed, “washroom’s free now for whoever wants to go first.”

Glenn gestures for Gloria to go first but she just pushes him towards the hallway, “you’re the one Maggie wants to cuddle, and I ain’t letting her snuggle you when you stink.”

He rolls his eyes but then laughs in defeat, nodding as he goes down the hall. Maggie chuckles at the two and shakes her head.

“Hey, I love you too,” Maggie says to Gloria with a smile.

“I know you do, you just love him more,” Gloria jokes, she then looks out the front door and sees Daryl seated on the porch, gutting the possum right on the front steps.

From his body language, Gloria could tell that he wasn’t comfortable being within these walls. He knew as well as her that the people around them were watching their every move, but more so focused on him. She knew that making a mess of the front porch was Daryl’s way of saying ‘I don’t give a shit what any of you think’. With a soft sigh, Gloria makes her way outside to the porch and leans on the railings, watching him work on his catch.

“Wha’?” Daryl asks, glancing up at her when he feels her eyes on him.

“Nothing, just wondering what you can do with a possum,” Gloria says, wanting to joke around with him to help him feel more at ease, she then turns to find Carol standing on the side of the porch, “Carol, what can you do with a possum?”

A knowing smile spreads on Carol’s face as she glances from Gloria to Daryl, “well, there’s stew, possum roast, maybe even barbeque. It all depends on how Daryl prepares it.”

“Barbeque... hey, you think we can do possum kebabs?” Gloria asks, looking at Carol but she knew that Daryl was listening.

“Kebabs? But we’d need sticks,” Carol says, an amused smile on her face.

Gloria bites her lip to keep from laughing and glances at Daryl, “we could use Daryl’s bolts.”

Her words cause a snort of laughter from Daryl as he shakes his head, “ya’ll ‘re weird.”

“Hey, it would work,” Gloria laughs, a grin on her face.

“It would! I’ll need to think of a nice marinade.” Carol continues to play along.

Gloria absolutely loved the sound of Daryl’s laugh, even if it was just for a short moment. Daryl wasn’t unaware of her intentions, it warmed his heart knowing just what she meant to do. He appreciated her and loved her with everything he had. This is why he hadn’t voiced out his discomfort in staying in a place that judged every single molecule of his being. He had told Deanna that this is what Judith and Carl deserved, but that was only part of what he felt. Daryl wanted Gloria to be safe and happy, he wanted to provide her with a place to call home. They had that once back at the prison, and he needed to give her that safety again. He felt that she deserved a place like this.

“Hey Gloria, I’m done,” Glenn calls from inside the house.

Gloria glances behind and nods then looks at Carol, “you cleaned up already, right?”

“I did,” Carol smiles, “go on, I’ll watch him.”

“I don’ need to be watched...” Daryl grumbles, making Carol and Gloria chuckle.

Gloria crouches down and kisses his cheek, “sure, you don’t.”

A small smile ghosts Daryl’s lips at her affection but it’s gone in a flash, “I ain’ no kid.”

“Oh really?” Gloria raises an eyebrow then continues when he hums a yes, “you’re getting cleaned up after I’m done, okay?”

“Nah,” Daryl says, “don’ wanna.”

Gloria laughs as she gets up and begins to walk to the door, “that’s what a kid would say.” she teases in a sing-song tone.

Daryl eyes her retreating backside then Carol as she tries to stifle her laughter, “it’s ‘cause o’ ya that she teases me like tha’.”

“Oh please, Daryl,” Carol rolls her eyes, “she’s your girlfriend, she’s gonna tease you no matter what.”

Daryl felt his heart jump when Carol used the word ‘girlfriend’ to refer to Gloria. Yes, she is his girlfriend, he’d just never heard it being said aloud before. He never even thought about it that way; she is so much more than just his girlfriend. He lowers his head to hide his now blushing face.

“Daryl, are you blushing?” Carol coos on.

“Shaddup!”

---

The flow of hot water from the shower head stops when Gloria turns off the tap. She squeezes the excess water from her hair and wraps a towel around her body as she steps out of the shower. Gloria begins to pat dry her body with the towel when her eye catches her reflection in the mirror. She does a double take when she registers the marks on her body. Cuts and scars tainted her skin, each one a grotesque flaw that had its own story. Gloria hated them. She hated how they looked, how they felt, how they made her feel. She knew that she should be thinking of them as a reminder that she’s a survivor and that she’s strong, but she couldn’t think of them that way. All she saw in each scar was how stupid she was and how she had failed.

“Fuck....” Gloria curses under her breath, trying to control the tears in her eyes as she stares at her scars.

Not wanting to see them anymore, she quickly gets dressed into a set of clean clothes, throwing her dirty clothes in the hamper. Gloria begins to towel dry her hair, giving herself time to breathe and calm down before stepping outside. The last thing she wanted was for the others to find out that she was on the verge of tears for what she thought was such a stupid reason.

“Hey,” Gloria says as she smiles at a freshly shaven Rick in the hallway, she gestures to him, “you... have a face.”

Rick chuckles at her words and nods, defeated, as if he’d been getting comments about his new appearance from everybody. Gloria laughs and pats his shoulder as the two walk by each other.

When she reaches the living room, she sees the others in her group setting up their spot for the night. Gloria spots Daryl sitting by a window and makes her way to him, knowing that she had left her things with his earlier. She proceeds to take out a clean bandage to wrap up her gash on her forearm that was still healing. As Daryl sees this, he takes her hand in his and helps her patch up her wound, not letting her refuse. Once he finishes with it, his arm snakes around her waist pulling her close to him and she leans into him, giggling when she feels him sniff her hair.

“Smell clean?” Gloria says with a smile, making him hum a yes, “you gonna clean up?”

Daryl purses his lips and shakes his head, looking down to avoid her eyes. He feels her sigh softly but doesn’t push him on the matter. Instead, she moves to rest her head on his chest, her arm draped around his torso. Daryl plants a kiss on the top of her head as she snuggles him, his fingers playing with her shirt when he notices something.

“Ya always gonna be wearin’ my clothes now?” Daryl says soft into her ear with a smirk on his lips.

Gloria blushes at the realization that she was in another one of Daryl’s shirts, “stop putting your shirts in my bag...”

“I didn’ put nothin’ in yer bag,” Daryl chuckles, “ya were wearin’ my shirt when we found each other back at Terminus.”

“I was...” Gloria admits.

“And ya ripped the sleeves right off.” Daryl teases, knowing she had a thing for his arms.

“Stop,” Gloria blushes more and playfully hits his chest.

He chuckles at her reaction but their playfulness is gone once there is a knock on the front door. Everyone in the room is on high alert as Rick goes to open the door. Deanna stands in the doorway and smiles at him, not letting Rick off without complimenting his fresh appearance. Deanna had come to them to check up on how the group was adjusting, only to find that they were all sticking together. Apparently, she had given everyone a job except for Daryl, and Sasha; she hadn’t offered Rick and Michonne theirs yet but would in due time. The next day was when the group would get to explore and know the town, and the day after, for those with jobs, that’s when their work would begin.

---

Next Chapter

So a bunch of stuff happened here, we’re finally introduced to Gena, Glenn and Gloria’s older sister! I have a feeling she’s not gonna be well liked at first haha we also had some cute fluffy moments, and a bit of a angsty moment with Gloria with her scars... a lot happens in Season 5 so I think most of the chapters are going to be this long, more or less hehe please let me know your thoughts on it! I’d love to hear from you all!

And as always, I would really appreciate any comments left for me! I’ll be replying to any comments in a new post because this is a sideblog!

Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!):

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orbitariums · 4 years

Text

war nymph | bucky barnes ♡

request: ooo write something of bucky and an asgardian reader (who’s thor and loki’s sister) and is the goddess of war. and like they just came back from a mission or something like that. the reader shows off her skills/powers and bucky gets turn on? make it rough and kinky 😳

note: the title is inspired by grimes’ creation called “war nymph”, that’s also yn’s avenger name/goddess name. i know a nymph isn’t the same as a goddess buttt idc! quickly (kind of) written, straight to the point! also i love the idea of an asgardian goddess who’s loki & thor’s sister (we not talking ab hela but i love her too LOL). def would write drabbles/headcanons ab this character if y’all want that. lmk!

word count: 2.6k exactly!

warnings: smut, nsfw, slight voyeurism kink, rough, cute trash talk, both reader and bucky have dom energy? which is fun

here we go!!

"She does it again," Thor praised you, smothering you as he placed his arm around your shoulder.

You, Thor, and Bucky were all getting on the Quinjet, joining a few of the others - that included Steve, Natasha, and Sam. You had just completed another mission in which you were to find and possibly disarm an 0-8-4. You came to find out the weapon originated from a Hydra base, and it was mostly with your help that the weapon was able to be disarmed, and that you were able to escape the Hydra members who tried to stop you from doing just that.

Thor and Bucky weren't completely useless, of course, but this was a time when your abilities as a war goddess of Asgardia shone. You could quickly disarm weapons and multitask by beating the shit out of someone at once, whether it be with your brute strength of through the use of a weapon. You were familiar with every weapon there was, and incredibly skilled in many fighting tactics. If there ever were a mission for you, it was this one. They called you War Nymph, a title no one dared to challenge.

"Get off me, you big slob," you grimaced, wriggling away from your brother Thor's grasp. You'd grown up with Thor on Asgard - you were an Asgardian first, and an Avenger second. Your family, specifically your brothers Thor and Loki, always came first. You were always respected on Asgard for your abilities — now they were being put to further use on the Avengers team.

"And to think I was complimenting you," Thor scoffed, being dramatic as usual.

"You're not wrong to. What would you ever do without me?" you teased, prompting Bucky to chime in.

"She's right. I gotta say, I'm impressed."

Bucky Barnes — where to start with him? Sergeant turned Winter Soldier turned Avenger turned... boy toy? You didn't know how exactly your relationship with Bucky was to be defined, but it was definitely physical. Around others, you communicated through mostly sarcastic remarks, but away from the others, it was a different story - still sarcastic remarks, except during your sexual encounters.

So, true to your nature, you quickly quipped,

"I gotta say, I can't say the same to you, Barnes."

"Oh, really?" Bucky raised his brows with a playful smirk.

"Easy," Natasha intervened, gearing up the Quinjet. "We don't need a repeat of what happened last time you two started with the sarcastic remarks."

"Oh, you can say that again," Steve scoffed, settling into the seat next to Natasha while you and Bucky leaned against the walls opposite each other, smirking knowingly at each other.

"It wasn't that bad," you rolled your eyes.

"We all almost died," Sam snapped.

Last time you and Bucky had your gos at each other, you ended up "play fighting", in the meeting room. But "play fighting" between a war goddess with multiple superpowers, including telekinesis and super strength, and an advanced combatant with super strength, wasn't your typical idea of a play fight. Of course when the rest of the team broke it up, you continued in private... but maybe "fighting" wasn't the right word to use.

"Oh, don't be such a baby, Sam," Thor smiled. He was well versed in play fighting with you and Loki as a youth on Asgard, and even he had been at the bad end of your powers.

You on the other hand had moved on from the conversation, more interested in sharpening just one of your many knives.

"Really though. I'm very impressed, War Nymph. You never fail to impress me more and more every single time," Bucky said, and unbeknownst to the others, in his voice there was a secret tone, one only you could decipher - he would be showing his appreciation greatly when you landed. It was so clear to see. The more you showcased your powers, the more you proved your many abilities, the more Bucky wanted you, the more he admired you.

Your knife made a sharp "shing" noise and you smirked, Bucky's needy eyes traveling to the source of the sound - ogling your trusty hands.

"I'm sure," you winked.

By the time you got home, Bucky was desperate, trailing behind your feet like a lost, yet murderous puppy. He wanted you, and he wanted you now. He made that known, whispering in your ear, his lips far too close to your neck to just be work-related chatter. Still you kept things under wraps, promising him "soon, soldier." The entirety of your debrief meeting was spent with a frustrated Bucky glaring at you with a dead face, but you knew behind his expression lurked a fire.

When it was all over, you and Bucky were the last two in the room.

"Meet in my room?" you asked, but Bucky was silent.

He shook his head slowly, approaching you with a stern look on his face.

"No. Let's just do this here."

"Here?" you laughed, looking around the deserted meeting room, which had glass panels that could easily be walked past and seen through. "You can't be serious-"

But apparently he was, because he had you pushed against the wall, lips pressed against yours, cutting you off and silencing you with ease. So all that need in his eyes hadn't been just for show, and you felt it through his pants as well. The kiss became passionate and sloppy, burning with desire. You moaned into his mouth, making him even harder, and started feeling the tell tale signs of arousal - your beating heart to match your other beating heart.

"Bucky-" you panted, the minute his lips detached from yours, breathless. His hands ran along your body and tugged at your clothing, wanting every bit of it off. "Someone could see-"

You were grasping on to every bit of logic that you had left, and there wasn't much. Bucky made you delirious with desire, made your heart race like no other, and you had the same effect on him. Logic wasn't necessarily winning here. You wanted him, and you wanted him now. And he had made it very clear that he didn't care where he had you.

He smirked, looking into your eyes with a mischievous glint in his own,

"You act like that's such a bad thing."

You rolled your eyes, pulling him back in - he had you all figured out. The idea of someone seeing the two of you, though horrifying, was also incredibly arousing. Whatever it was, it got adrenaline pumping through your veins like nobody's business. You didn't really care, who were you fooling?

"Just fuck me," you murmured against the hot skin of his neck, guiding his hand into your pants, feeling the cool metal of his prosthetic hand against your wet pussy, gliding back and forth against your slick folds.

"Are you bossing me around?" Bucky teased, grinding his hips against you so you felt the outline of his cock against your core.

"Yes," you retorted. "And that's an order."

It wasn't long before both your uniforms were off, and you both did this quickly, your nimble fingers working to complete the task. You needed to make this quick, and if that meant it was rough, then so be it. You weren't usually gentle, anyways. But Bucky took his time going down on you anyway, kneeling on the floor and kissing hot, wet kisses against your stomach and thighs as he went down, your hand tugging at his long, black hair. You domineered him as he buried his head between your thighs, sucking and kissing at your clit while his tongue worked your slit. You raised up one of your legs and settling your foot on his shoulder so he had easier access to you.

"Look at me," you forced his head up, hand tugging harshly at his hair, and he moaned into your throbbing core as you made intense eye contact with each other. You couldn't help but sigh in pleasure, leaning your head back against the wall. You had forgotten the dangers of doing this long ago, now you were lost in satisfaction. "Fuck, Bucky, you eat it so good," you moaned precariously, making his dick twitch in his boxers.

He wanted to make you come two ways - on his face and with his cock inside you, and he would work to ensure that it happened. When it came to sex with Bucky, you were both competing with each other to give the other the most pleasure, to be the most dominant. You were the perfect mix, two competitive assholes with superpowers.

He kitten licked up from your entrance to your clit, all the while rubbing his fingers in circular motions against your clit, sure to use the hand with the metal arm, which you loved so much. Your hips bucked against his tongue and you began to roll your hips up and down against his face, moaning and whimpering at the access he had to you. He let you do this for a while before pulling back and instead pushing two cold fingers in, making your hips twitch at the unexpected sensation. He curved his fingers upwards and had you hooked, fucking down on his fingers, to his astonishment.

"That's it baby, fuck my fingers," he praised you, and attached his lips to your clit again, sucking and licking. "Am I good for you? Good enough to make you come?"

You gasped out the words,

"Yes, Bucky, fuck. So good for me, baby, I'm gonna cum."

"Go ahead," he started thrusting his fingers in and out faster, harder, feeling his knuckles bottom out against your skin, which was glazed over with your arousal and his spit. He watched as his fingers disappeared inside of you, still aiming his tongue just above his fingers so he could taste you when you finished. He always wanted to taste you, to feel you in your entirety - there was something about an Asgardian war goddess that was irresistible.

You came with a cry of shock, and slowly rolled your hips around Bucky's fingers as he pressed his tongue against you to taste you.

"Fuck," you sighed, licking your lips and breathing harshly.

"Taste yourself," Bucky insisted, rising to his feet and pressing his lips against yours, initiating a long and needy kiss. You palmed him through his boxers, feeling his hard cock in your hands, before slowly bringing him out, stroking him softly and tugging at him. He chuckled darkly. "You're playing a dangerous game."

"They call me War Nymph. I'm always playing dangerous," you smirked, locking eyes with him.

He hummed, nodding almost understandingly.

"Hmm. I'm not quite done with you yet."

"I was hoping that wasn't your A-game," you teased.

"Oh, far from it," Bucky quipped back, smiling playfully, until all playfulness was over and he had you turned around, his hand pressing down into your back. "Fucking bend over," he leaned over you and whispered in your ear.

You whimpered at the command and did as you were told, supporting yourself with your hands against the wall and arching your back. Bucky found no use in waiting, and you felt the tip of his cock toying at your entrance at record speed, slicking himself in your arousal and watching as he teased your folds.

"Fuck," he whispered, his jaw clenching hard.

"It can be yours, soldier. You just have to earn it," you panted out, glancing over your shoulders to get a good look at him.

You knew that would motivate him, and it did more than that. He slammed into you with no regards, making your whole body lurch forward. You both let out obscene moans at the feeling of his sudden entrance. You felt his cock stretch you out, filling you up amazingly, and he felt the stretch of your walls around him, a reminder of his size.

"You like when I stretch you out?" Bucky prompted, and you moaned quietly in response, only making him buck his hips harder into you, in search of a proper answer. Again that metal arm came in contact with your warm skin, only this time his hand was wrapped around your neck, forcing you to look up, almost at him, while he fucked into you from behind. "I asked a question."

You moaned, your voice ragged and breathless in addition to the hand over your throat,

"Fuck, yes, Bucky. It's so fucking good."

"Yeah? Is it mine? Did I earn it?" he panted, slowing his thrusts and rolling his hips in so he fucked deep inside of you, so you felt it in your stomach, your walls clenching around him.

You nearly cried out,

"Yes, yes you earned it, it's your pussy, Bucky, make it yours."

"Mhm," he moaned, his breaths unstable. He slid in and out of you slowly and gently, going as deep as he could, silencing himself just to hear your moans and pants. Then he got an idea, sliding almost all the way out. "Fuck yourself, YN."

You moaned at the delicious thought, whimpering as you moved your hips back on him while he stood still, cherishing the feeling of his cock gliding against your walls, wanting to savor every part of him. He was big, and thick, and you could tell as you fucked back onto him. You started out slow, until Bucky brought his hand on the small of your back and started to guide you, slowly but surely, until you were moving faster, making little moans escape from your lips each time your ass met his thighs. It was rough and hard, the way he fucked you, his hand making you move faster each time.

"So good, baby," Bucky moaned, almost whining, and watched as your body followed his lead with ease. "I'm close."

"Oh god, me too," you panted, and he started to slam into you to get you to that point, listening to the pretty moans and practical screams that left your mouth at that point. If it weren't for the fact that the meeting room was sound proof, by now everyone would've heard you, and it was just pure luck that no one had walked past yet.

But when you came, it was explosive, and Bucky's orgasm followed soon after, your orgasms falling on top of one another's, colliding in such a divine way. You kept your hips rocking back on his, wanted to stay there until the sound of footsteps reminded you that such a thing would be irresponsible. You got dressed in record speed, practically throwing Bucky's clothes out of the way. You had your needs, but you were still a goddess. You wouldn't be caught slipping, even if this wasn't a bad way to "slip." You adjusted yourself, back to normal by the time Scott walked past and waved mindlessly, with no clue of what you and Bucky had just been up to.

"'It's your pussy'?" Bucky repeated, quoting you with a knowing smile on his lips as he cocked his head.

You scoffed,

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Barnes. I was only saying that so you would fuck me for real. You've done better."

"Oh yeah?" Bucky grinned, matching your playful insults easily.

"Oh yeah, much better. But this wasn't half bad," you smirked, running your hand along his face. You gave his cheek a gentle slap. "Ok! I'll see you."

"See you," Bucky replied.

As you walked away, you turned to note,

"You should appreciate my skills more often. You know, if it's going to lead to this."

"Sure thing."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #marvel smut #marvel imagine #orbitariums #smut

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earthstellar · 3 years

Photo

It’s Deaf Awareness Week, so I’m posting my hearing disabled Drift fan fiction in full below the cut!

I am still fundraising for my hearing aids, so if you like the story and would like to donate, you can do so at my Ko-Fi or via PayPal.

You can also see my post on Chirolinguistics and Sign Language in Transformers media here!

Auditory Error by Capricorn_Stellium - Word Count: 2733

Summary:

The Lost Light visits a marketplace on a newly identified planet in the hopes of restocking on a few crucial supplies.

Unfortunately, things go less than well, and Drift is hit with some sort of energy disruptor-- Which results in processor damage.

Once everyone is back on board and clear of the fight, Ratchet and First Aid get to work attempting to assess Drift post-injury in a MedBay that is suddenly far, far too noisy.

"Stay where you are. Don't move! First Aid, get over here, get on his left side."

It was Ratchet's voice, or at least, he thought it was.

Drift was in the MedBay, so evidently they'd made it back to the Lost Light.

He quickly tried to assess himself: No missing limbs, so that's nice. Doesn't seem to be much frame damage, no evidence of blaster shots or blade damage anywhere across his armour that he could see.

Not that he could see much, as Ratchet was aggressively trying to get him to lay his helm back down flat against the medical berth.

"He's awake. Aid, titrate the sedative, I don't want him dizzy but keep it level so he's not running around." Ratchet moved to the side of the berth from where he had been standing so far, somewhere behind his helm, but it was odd. His voice seemed to come from all directions at once, and it was disorienting.

"Drift, can you focus on me? You were hit in the helm by one of the marketplace traders; Turns out Rodimus was wrong about the locals being friendly, because of course he was. Nobody else is hurt, so don't even try getting up! I don't know what they hit you with, some kind of focused disruptor of some kind. We're running additional scans to try to figure it out, but stay down for now. You aren't restrained, no painkillers. Just a mild physical sedative in the event you woke up swinging. I'm too old to keep having to fight my patients, you know."

It was bizarre; He felt totally fine. He could hear that Ratchet was speaking, but the words were... Missing, here and there. All of the sounds in the room were equally as loud, completely drowning each other out. It was overwhelming and disorienting.

He'd been in the MedBay enough times both as a patient and just waiting for Ratchet to get off shift that he was well aware it shouldn't sound like this. It was as if every piece of machinery was at maximum volume and surely Ratchet was whispering, but why would he be whispering? Was there something else going on? Was Ratchet's vocaliser damaged somehow? Why would Ratchet lie about the situation, unless it was serious?

Ratchet noticed Drift's increasingly heavy frown; He looked fairly alert, but confused. Running another quick diagnostic scan, nothing new was coming up. Drift had been concussed, he'd already known about that. The more extensive diagnostic panel wouldn't be complete for another minute or two.

"Aid, I told you to moderate--" First Aid interrupted by holding up what was the needle end of a clearly disconnected fuel line drip.

"He's not being sedated actively at all anymore, Ratchet. It should work it's way out of his systems soon, low level dose should remain for the next three to five hours but not significantly enough to produce a frame relaxing effect. Intensive scan is just about ready, give it a moment. We'll figure it out."

Ratchet huffed. He was proud of his star apprentice, but it was irritating to get blatant reassurance from a junior doctor.

Not that First Aid was wrong to comment; It was hard to administer emergency care to your own conjunx. In other circumstances, it would never be allowed at all, but the Lost Light was a perpetual mess. A good mess, most of the time. But still not quite as organised as some might prefer-- A fact that Ultra Magnus never let anyone forget.

Speaking of Magnus, the paperwork for this would be a nightmare, but Ratchet had other concerns on his mind.

Drift raised a servo to his faceplate, careful not to lift his helm lest Ratchet come after him again. "I... feel okay, I think. But I never had a concussion that made everything sound so... I don't know. Things sound wrong all of a sudden."

Ratchet and First Aid looked at each other from across their respective sides of the medical berth. Aid pulled out a data pad and began taking notes once Ratchet nodded in the affirmative to proceed.

"What do you mean? Can you describe what you're feeling?"

Drift ex-vented. "Physically, totally fine. Not even a headache, really. Everything else seems okay, but it's like... Everything is at the same volume, and is coming from everywhere all the time. I can hardly make out what you and Aid are saying, every other word is gone, it's easier for me to focus on the vague sort of rhythm of the noises you're making rather than what you're actually talking about. Like the words are messed up and lost in the sounds of everything else. But, I don't know. It's like everything is a flood of noise, except for speech, I guess? Keep talking to me, I'll figure it out."

It was Ratchet's turn to frown. "Hmm." He backed up a little from the side of the berth. "Drift, can you shutter your optics for a second? I won't touch you, but I want you to listen as best you can, okay?" Drift nodded, wondering what Ratchet was up to.

Closing his optics felt awful; It made the noises seem even louder and more all-encompassing, somehow. Hopefully this wouldn't take long. He was glad Ratchet had kept him on the berth; It was a dizzying sensation. Like the noise was giving him vertigo.

"I'm going to snap my digits in different areas and at different distances from your helm. I want you to tell me where you hear the sound in relation to yourself, so for example, upper left from your point of view, or lower right, or straight ahead. Okay?"

Drift nodded, hoping he'd heard the instructions correctly. It was suddenly much harder to fill the gaps in Ratchet's speech when he couldn't watch his faceplate while he was speaking.

The exam went on for a while until finally Ratchet snapped his digits for the last time to Drift's righthand side, but Drift stated the sound was coming from straight ahead and slightly above his helm.

"Maybe a little to the right?" He could hear Ratchet ex-vent, but from where, he couldn't tell. "Nope. Open your optics, Drift. Sorry to say you didn't exactly pass that test." He turned to face First Aid, who had apparently been following along and taking quite a few notes.

Turns out both of them were stood exactly where they were when the exam had started. Weird. To Drift, it had seemed like their intermittent words were floating around him while his optics had been shuttered. Had they moved at all, the entire time?

The noise of all the medical machinery was getting awful. How were Ratchet and Aid okay with it?

Then he realised they probably couldn't hear it. Somehow...

Ratchet's voice knocked him out of the state of distress he was rapidly falling into the more he tried to think about all the noise. "Aid, note a general lack of directional hearing. No loss of hearing overall, his audials are registering sound as usual, but..."

First Aid looked up from the data pad. "But the way his processor is interpreting the sounds he's hearing is wrong."

"Correct. It's processor damage. Damn."

Drift had missed what was probably a very important word, there. "Sorry, what kind of damage?"

Ratchet, to his credit, only looked upset for a very brief moment. But Drift could tell; He could always tell with his Ratty. And that look was never good.

"Sorry, Drift. We shouldn't talk about you like you aren't here, anyway; It's a bad habit medics can develop."

That got a small smile out of Drift. "Since when are you worried about bad medic habits? You routinely throw wrenches at your patients."

"Hey, that's usually only Whirl. And Rodimus. And..." Ratchet took one of Drift's servos into his own. "Fine, you have a point, but this is serious. We need to run more tests. And by more, I mean you're going to be in here for a while."

Drift nodded, not wanting to speak himself lest it break his intense concentration on Ratchet's intake. It definitely seemed like trying to follow Ratchet's faceplate movements made it easier to guess what words he was missing.

The words he could no longer hear. For some reason.

It was only years of experience performing various mindfulness meditations that prevented Drift's anxiety from escalating.

First Aid walked towards the foot of the medical berth to be more fully in Drift's line of sight before addressing him.

And he proceeded to say something that Drift totally missed, because First Aid's battle mask made it impossible to read his faceplates in the way that he could with Ratchet.

"Uh... I don't want to interrupt? But two things: Aid, can you retract your mask?" Both First Aid and Ratchet stiffened immediately.

"I'm so sorry--" "Drift, if you can't understand us, just say so and we can--"

And it was too much noise.

Instinctively, his servos flew up to cover his audials, which hadn't helped as much as he had hoped it might.

"Stop! Stop, I'm sorry, it's okay. Don't worry about it. But the second thing, is that it's way, way too much in here. The noise, I mean. It's a lot."

Ratchet gently grabbed Drift's wrists, getting closer in the process.

"The scan we were running has finished by now. Aid, turn off everything we're not currently using, let's see if it makes a difference in the ambient noise level. Go ahead and start interpreting the results, construct a summary, you know what to do."

As First Aid got started as directed, looking somewhat upset that he hadn't thought to retract his battle mask earlier, Ratchet moved in even closer to speak directly into Drift's audial.

On the other side of Drift's helm, he cupped a servo over the opposite audial to help block out the surrounding noise and force Drift's processor to focus on the most immediate input: His voice. "I'm sorry. I'll try to make this as easy on you as I possibly can, okay? We're not hearing things the way you are, so we'll have to figure this out as we go. But that's fine; You're okay... You will be okay."

Vision obscured by Ratchet's shoulder armour while intensely trying to focus on his voice, suddenly, it hit Drift.

He could hear, but he couldn't hear. Not really.

A thousand scenarios flooded him at once, each one more terrifying than the last.

Being in a battle, unable to tell where bullets were coming from. Hearing a ship-wide alarm go off, and being incapacitated by the noise, unable to react otherwise. Unable to help. Unable to protect Ratchet. Never being able to parse anyone's speech, always missing words, never having all the information.

Going to a racetrack and being disoriented by the hum of all the wheels and engines at high speed, causing an accident. Anywhere noisy, anyone talking. Anywhere sound exists, it would be too much or not enough and never in-between.

He couldn't fight effectively. He wouldn't able to communicate effectively, not if he constantly misheard every single thing. The stress just from the MedBay noise was horrendous; What about in the middle of a conflict, or the command deck, or even someplace like Swerve's? Totally unbearable.

He would go right back to being isolated. He would be a problem for others. A burden, an annoyance.

What if this wasn't fixable?

He gasped like he had been choking, causing Ratchet to startle and pull back. "Ratchet! Ratchet, Ratty, what if-- What if you can't fix me?"

And he knew that look.

He felt Ratchet's arm move slightly somewhere behind him, and First Aid swiftly and silently left; He would finish looking over the results in his own office space. Ratchet had probably flashed some kind of medic secret code hand signal or something.

Or maybe it was just awkward to watch your mentor's partner start crying in your shared workplace. It was probably that, and the thought would have made Drift laugh if he didn't suddenly have a terrible headache.

Ratchet made the most of his wide set medical frame type, and completely wrapped Drift in a hug.

It helped. Everything seemed like too much right now, but this, he could never possibly get enough of.

Fluid had pooled behind his optics; Some started to trickle down in small streams. Ratchet wiped some of it away gently.

"Drift, I'm not going to lie. I already know what those scan results are going to say; There's nothing wrong with you, aside from whatever is going wrong with your processor. And I'm going to be honest, because you know I don't lie when it comes to my diagnostics... If I'm right about the nature of your processor damage, it's most likely not something that can be repaired."

Even though on some level he figured that might be the case, it felt like Ratchet had jammed the Great Sword through his spark.

Before he had the chance to completely break down, Ratchet carefully grabbed the sides of Drift's helm, gently rubbing soft swirls in his faceplate and ensuring Drift didn't just fold in on himself and completely collapse.

He wanted Drift to be able to understand; Keeping his helm up like this would help Drift read his faceplate, too.

"I know. It's not good news. But we can work with it. You can work with it. We'll figure it out. If we don't have the supplies we need to make whatever assistive device we might have to come up with, we'll find a way to get them, or make them. You have me, Perceptor, Brainstorm, a whole ship full of people who can and will help you. Okay?"

Drift wanted to nod, he really did, but the tears welling up in his optics had blurred his vision, and the thought of being unable to see clearly while being unable to hear clearly was so completely distressing to him that he simply threw his arms around Ratchet's neck strut and let himself cry it out.

Not for long, and not very hard; He found that the sound of his own crying was odd and grating to his audials, both muted and sharper than it should have been.

While he could stifle his tears, he couldn't stop his upset and frustration from seeping out through his EM field.

Ratchet's armour plating shivered a bit, before he met Drift's EM field with his own and wrapped him in another hug, spark to spark.

A surge of love, care, devotion- Ratchet's EM field helped soothe Drift's headache, and slowly, he calmed down. His vents evened out, the sound of the fans rattling no longer another sound adding to his distress.

"Sorry, Ratty. I just, this is... really bad."

"Yeah, it is. But we'll figure it out."

Drift's voice fell to almost a whisper. He couldn't fully hear himself speak, although he felt his vocaliser warm up. "There's this weird dissonance, like everything is too loud and too quiet all at once. Like all the small noises are massive and I can't hear anything I actually want to listen to. It reminds me of coming down from a syk hit, when my sensory data would get a little messed up."

Ratchet stilled, then tightened his hold on Drift. He was careful to speak directly into Drift's audial. "Rung is here too, you know. We're all here for you. I'm here for you."

He pulled back just enough to kiss Drift's faceplate, where the tears had left stains. Drift stared at his intake; He wasn't sure if it was to return the kiss, or if it was an attempt to try to follow along with his words.

"How about this: While Aid finishes up the report on your scan results, we can lay down in our hab suite and hopefully it'll be quiet enough there for you to get some real rest. I can give you a painkiller before we head out; Nothing heavy-duty, but sensory sensitivity can be unpleasant and I want you to actually recharge if you think you can. I can call Velocity in to handle my other patients for the evening."

He hadn't been this tired earlier, but he definitely was now. Drift nodded, leaning his helm up a bit to return Ratchet's kiss.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

#my fic #my writing #dratchet #mtmte #maccadam #lost light #tf drift #tf ratchet #ratchet #drift #transformers #idw transformers #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #chirolinguistics #disability in media #maccadams

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schrijverr · 4 years

Text

Intimidated

Jonny has a bad day and when encounters with Brian, Tim and Ashes set him off, he flees and locks himself in his room. Luckily Nastya comes to comfort him and ask if he’s okay.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: Panic Attack, implied/referenced past abuse and PTSD and Jonnys thoughts about himself aren’t so nice. Tell me if I missed anyhting and I’ll be happy to tag them!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jonny was not a large man.

He’d never claimed he was one, but that was with good reason, since he was quite the opposite of a large man. No, Jonny was not a large man, he was actually a pretty small man. Standing at 5ft2 and weighing a 120 pounds soaking wet, he was not intimidating.

Well that might not be true. While he might not be large, he had a big presence always being the loudest, the most violent in the room with so much manic and chaotic energy around him that people naturally kept their distance from this tiny angry man.

Of course the Mechanisms had no such qualms. They could match their First Mate shot for shot and stab for stab, no issue and after spending so much time together, it is impossible for you to not see the others in every state imaginable, leading in the end to the fact that none of the Mechanisms found Jonny intimidating at all.

This frustrated him immensely.

He had no problems with his height, he might be a bit sensitive, but he had enough to make up for it. However, when that fell away all you were left with was a bunch of people who you couldn’t get rid off and were there constantly making fun of you whenever they could.

It wasn’t obvious and it (mostly) wasn’t out of malice. There was no ill intend except for driving Jonny up the wall to create something fun to do.

Just sometimes rest your arm on Jonnys head or pretend not to see him while he’s right in front of you until you look down or put his favourite mug on the upper shelf and laugh as he tried to grab it, but either has to climb the counter or ask for help. Small things like that.

Jonny didn’t mind most of the time. He grumbled about it and got annoyed, but it could be pretty funny and he liked seeing the others be so proud of their little mischief that he couldn't help but roll his eyes fondly in his head.

Of course with not minding most of the time, there was also a sometime where Jonny in fact minded and in those moments Jonny minded a lot.

It was not the jokes that bothered him in those moments, he didn’t find them funny at those times, but it was more the fact that they weren’t respecting his authority that bothered him.

He knew he wasn’t really the leader, everyone reminded him when they had denied him the title of Captain and just plainly ignored what he’d said, but the jokes drove it home. They saw him as a child, he thought in those moments, they thought him a funny attraction that they could laugh at and ignore. And that hurt.

Jonny needed to be in charge, not necessarily of the others, but off himself.

You see, Jonny hadn’t been the most independent throughout his life. No that was the wrong phrasing, he’d been very independent never listening to his father (if the man was ever around) and always on his own trying to navigate the planet of New Texas.

But he hadn’t had any agency in what he had to do to survive and he certainly had no control over what Dr. Carmilla did to him or the others.

So, yeah, Jonny needed to be in charge off himself and although the jokes didn’t take away his ability to stab them in the side or fire a bullet at them when they got too annoying, they sometimes did make him think about the fact that they could easily overpower him and he could do nothing about it.

That fact turned into a fear, which had lodged itself inside his chest to fester and grow.

Today was a one of the days on which Jonny minded the jokes a lot. He’d already woken up shaky and was fighting his brain for a reasonable reaction to the night full of nightmares.

The nightmares had been of Dr. Carmilla looming over him, his still beating heart in her hand while he was strapped down on a table unable to move. Then it had changed to Jack grinning down at him as he put out a cigar on his cheek after he’d gotten back empty handed.

He remembered his old boss had grabbed his hair, leaving him unable to move away from the burning stub. The scar had healed, but apparently his stupid brain hadn’t forgotten.

Desperate to rid himself off the uneasy feeling his brain was giving him, he’d gone to their kitchen looking for booze instead finding Brian, who with his 7ft towered over Jonny with a disappointed look in his eyes as Jonny reached for the bottle.

Jonny looked between Brian and the bottle. The rational part of his brain told him that, although Brian didn’t agree, he wouldn't do anything to stop him, but the other part of his brain screamed at him that the tall man would hurt him if he didn’t listen, that he could grab him and hurt him and he couldn’t fight back.

The bottle was returned to its spot unopened.

Brian frowned at that action, Jonny was never really known to listen to anyone and it wasn’t as if Brian had argued or said anything at all. Still Jonny had picked up on the subtle disapproval and listened.

He looked at Jonny and saw that the shorter man was frozen and looking at him like he was trying to decipher what Brian wanted from him. Brian asked: “Are you okay, Jonny?”

Subtly Jonny startled at the sound of his voice, but he quickly masked it with a shake of his head and puffed up his chest as he scoffed and answered: “Of course.”

“You sure?” Brian pressed.

“Yes.” Jonny snapped back, immediately looking startled at his own tone. He hid that too and hurried out the room.

Brian considered chasing after him, but decided that Jonny probably wouldn’t appreciate the effort and it wouldn't be worth it to have to pick all the bullets out from between his joints and under his skin.

Meanwhile Jonny was stumbling through the halls of the ship, desperately trying to stop the shortness of breath.

Mentally he berated himself: What the fuck, Jonny, you know Brian wouldn’t do that, but here you are acting like an idiot and a child. No wonder no one respects you, you are the child, the tiny asshole, they all already think you are and you go around proving it on top of that. It wasn’t scary and you weren’t in danger, but you just had nearly piss yourself.

Unconsciously his feet were carrying him to his old hiding place. There was one room with a detachable panel, which led to a small space where he used to hide when Dr. Carmilla was looking for him.

He’d never made it his own room, since it would be too suspicious, something that now proved to be a problem. He hadn’t gone back after he’d made his plan and in the meantime Tim had taken up residence in the room where he used to hide.

Tim was a lanky guy. He wasn’t muscled and he wasn’t fat, but he was tall like all weight he’d gained in his life had been stretched upwards into height.

Tim also loved stealing Jonnys stuff and holding it above his head out of reach as he watched Jonny struggle to get it back and he had been waiting for Jonny to find him after he had stolen his favourite belt buckle.

So when he saw the tiny man standing in his doorway he grinned and got up.

Jonnys eyes were unfocused, something that Tim did not notice, and Jonny only registered that someone else was there when the shadow fell over his face. He blinked and looked up and Tim.

Tim procured the belt buckle out of his pocket and held it over Jonnys head as he asked: “Looking for this?”

Realizing that the real reason he was here was too embarrassing, Jonny jumped on the way out Tim had unknowingly offered him. He put his hands on his hips and said: “Give it back, Tim.”

Dangling it from his finger, Tim teased: “What? I’m not withholding it, it’s right here. Just take it, Jonny.”

“Not funny.” Jonny huffed, “Just give it back.”

Tim leaned down while raising his arms so that the belt buckle will still dangle out of reach as he tutted: “Ahw, can’t tiny Jonny reach his little belt buckle?”

Jonny was about to explode, to beat the uneasy feeling out of his chest with anger, when Tim patted the top of Jonnys head condescendingly. The image of Jack flashed in front of his eyes and he flinched back violently.

Tim startled back at the reaction, lowering his arm with a frown. Carefully he asked: “Are you alright?”

Looking back up, Jonny blinked and the image of Jack grin was replaced with Tims concerned face. He snatched the belt buckle out of his hand and said: “I’m fine.”

“You certain?” Tim checked

“Yes, for fucks sake, leave me alone.” Jonny yelled at him in return.

“You don’t have to be an asshole about it.” Tim told him, “I was just checking in.”

“Well, don’t.” Jonny said, turning on his heel and planning to hide out in his room until this feeling was gone.

Normally Tim would let him stomp away and be annoyed at the First Mate, but the flinching sat wrong with him and now that he thought about it, Jonny had looked pretty out of it when he’d showed up, so Tim was now hesitant to let him go. Hence why he grabbed Jonnys shoulder to stop him from getting away.

The effect was instant.

Jonny tensed, straighting up, before immediately ducking into himself with a small whimper and raising his hands in defense as he turned around with a wince. While Tim let go as if his hand was burned.

They looked at each other in silence for a full minute. Tim standing still like a statue, not daring to move in case movement would trigger Jonny again. Jonny in confusion as he waited for an attack that didn’t come, memories playing in front of his eyes until he saw Tim standing there through the haze.

Jonny frowned and slowly asked: “Tim?”

After a second to look into Jonnys eyes to double check if he was really here, Tim answered: “Yes, yes, it’s me.” then after another beat he asked: “You good? What happened?”

Jonny bit his lip, he could just explode and walk away. Never talk about it again and pretend it never happened. Tim wasn’t a threat, no matter how much he dwarfed Jonny, he was a lanky noodle that Jonny knew he could take, even on a bad day. A lanky noodle who was currently trying his very best to look as non-threatening as humanly possible.

He knew all that, he did.

Still, he didn’t want to anger the taller man. He had felt the heavy, big hand on his shoulder, he knew that Tim could easily turn into a killing maniac in a second and, if Jonny wasn’t careful, he’d be on the hit-list.

Looking back up, he saw Tims concerned expression morph into a frown and the irrational part of Jonnys brain decided to please the potential threat.

“I’m fine, really. Just a bad night, nothing to worry about. I was just dreaming a bit, not really aware and you scared me for a second that’s all.” he tried to placate Tim.

It did not help, because Jonny did not do diffusing situations, especially by trying to calm the other down. And Tim hadn’t even been looking for a fight that needed calming down, he’d just asked a question.

Something was wrong.

“Are you sure, you looked pretty spooked. If I did something, you have to tell me and I’ll avoid doing it again.” Tim pressed, “I know we’re all bastards, but we’re not assholes.”

The offer was nice. No judgment and avoidance of an instance like this in the future, a friend making sure the other was okay.

However, this was not what Jonny heard. Jonny, who had lost the battle with his brain and had given in to the bad feeling in his chest he had woken up with, had heard a potential threat not pleased with his answer while the whole objective had been to mollify him.

He was desperately trying to find an answer that would pacify Tim when Tim noticed the panic in his eyes. He decided that there was something wrong with Jonny and he had to calm the First Mate down.

The problem was that Tim was good at causing people and stuff to explode, he knew his way around anger and violence, not around calming people down. The only thing he knew was a calming cup of tea, so he offered: “Why don’t we drink a cup of tea to get you settled.”

Jonny didn’t want tea, he wanted to get away from this dangerous situation he had maneuvered himself into, but he accepted eagerly, glad to have found something to please Tim.

He followed Tim to the kitchen, finding a small mercy in the fact that Tim didn’t touch him and didn’t mind that Jonny walked behind him instead of next to him.

Ashes was already in the kitchen making themself some food when Tim entered Jonny on his heels. Tim set to making tea, only giving them a short greeting, but Jonny froze at the new person introduced in the situation.

His plan had been to sit there, drink his tea in silence, make sure Tim thought he was fine and go hide in his room. It was a good plan, not much to go wrong, but having Ashes there could be a problem.

He didn’t have any control over them or their actions, so they could accidentally fuck over his whole plan. And on top of that they were also a new person to please and keep happy until he could get out, another potential threat.

They weren’t that much bigger than Jonny, but they had the habit of leaning on Jonnys shoulder to piss him off and they, like everyone else on the Aurora, were taller. And taller had always been a threat in Jonnys life, so with the state he was in right now, he could only file them away as a threat and an unpredictable factor.

His mind was racing with new plans and possibilities, he tried to come up with the best way to get rid of them as soon a possible without endangering himself. Ashes raised a brow at him and he clumsily copied Tims greeting, since they had thought that to be okay.

They greeted him too and turned back to the sandwich they were making. Jonny let his shoulder sag slightly only to tense them up again when Tim turned to him with a smile on his face and two cups in his hands.

Jonny tried to smile back, but he was sure he wasn’t all that successful.

Luckily Tim didn’t comment on it and led him to the bar, where he set down the cups and sat in the stool, expecting Jonny to do the same.

Which was a bit of a problem.

You see, the stools were pretty tall, tall enough that Jonny had to climb into them and had trouble getting out of them easily. He wanted to do what Tim wanted him to do in order to protect himself, but he also wanted to leave the option of getting the fuck out of there open.

They also emphasized how short Jonny was since his feet would be dangling and he didn’t need that extra focus on his weakness in this situation.

So he stood next to the stool, eyes flitting between the stool and Tim, who noticed and was about to offer to sit on the couch when Ashes noticed Jonny hesitation as well.

They didn’t know about Jonnys mood today nor the strange reactions Tim had witnessed, he’d been a bit weird today, but Jonny was a weird guy all around so they hadn’t paid it much attention.

When they saw him dawdle next to the seat, they walked up and, like normal, they leaned on his shoulder while they took a bite out of their sandwich, before teasing: “Too high for you, Jonny? Want a step stool?”

Jonny broke.

He didn’t know why this set him off. Maybe the combination of the nightmares, the incident with Brian and then with Tim, on top with the uneasy feeling that had been growing in his chest throughout the day coming to a crescendo with the weight of Ashes leaning on his shoulder and the snapping of their teeth echoing in his ears.

Stumbling backwards he shrugged off Ashes arm, automatically raising his arms to protect himself from blows form above. When he was out of reach and at a safe distance, he quickly turned around before sprinting away as fast as he could.

He didn’t pay any attention to his surroundings, only focusing on getting into his room and shutting the door behind him.

Once the door was firmly locked behind him, he slid down to the ground and allowed the panic to truly overtake him. He’d thought that with his mechanical heart he wouldn’t be able to have these attacks, but instead the heaving of his chest and the shortness of breath was just more uncomfortable with the mechanical regular beating of his heart.

Within the peacefulness of his room he could let the panic attack run its course without anything to make it worse. So he sat there and struggled through breathing exercises Nastya taught him when they’d first huddled up together in the engine room.

While he was doing that Tim and Ashes stood frozen in the kitchen, neither daring to move, to break the air of what had just happened. Then Brian entered and broke the spell. He looked concerned and asked: “Is there a reason Jonny just came barreling past me like his immortality was catching up to him?”

“He freaked out all of a sudden.” Ashes said, “I was just teasing and then he was running, but he got here with Tim.”

“Don’t say that like an accusation.” Tim exclaimed.

Before it could end in a fight, Brian interrupted the pair: “I don’t care, who did what and why. I just want to know what made Jonny run like that.”

Ashes stayed silent and Tim explained: “He just randomly showed up to my room. I thought he was collecting the belt buckle I stole, so teased him a bit, but he suddenly flinched back and he looked all panicked. I asked him if he was alright and at first he got mad, but then I asked again and he got all weird, you know?”

“Weird how?” Brian asked, growing more concerned with every word.

“He got all nice, if that makes sense?” Tim answered, “Like he was trying to stop a conflict, kind of like you get, but we weren’t fighting or anything. I just asked him if he was okay.”

Twin frowns formed on Brian and Ashes faces as they urged Tim to go on. He said: “I asked him if I did something that set him off and told him it was okay to talk and that I wouldn’t use any of it against him, but he didn’t reply. So I offered him tea.”

Ashes raised a brow at him and defensively Tim said: “Hey, it’s not like you would have something better. I’m pretty sure you’re the one that made him snap.”

“What happened after?” Brian asked, desperate to get them back on track.

Taking over Ashes said: “They got here and Jonny did a weird greeting. I made my sandwich, Tim his tea. Then he was hesitating about getting on the stool, so I teased him a bit and then he suddenly jerked back and bolted.”

Brian thought about it and asked: “So you both teased him?” two nods, “What did you tease him about?”

At the same time they said: “His height.”

Directly after the three cursed. Brian pinched the bridge of his nose: “I already thought something was up with him today, he was acting a bit off around me, but I didn’t check up on him. Like an idiot.”

“You couldn't have known, Brian.” Tim said.

“Yeah, don’t beat yourself up over it.” Ashes added, “No use, we should focus on fixing it.”

“You’re right.” Brian nodded, “So, what is our plan?”

At that question the three fell silent.

Over the course of their very long life they had seen too much. They had done many unthinkable things. They’d been there to see civilizations rise and fall. They had waged wars on armies alone and come out as the victors. They had not, however, comforted many people.

“We could ask him if he is alright?” Tim suggested after a silence had dragged on for a while.

“Yeah, like that went so well the last few times.” Ashes commented.

“Well, what do you suggest we do then?” Tim shot back.

“We apologize.” Ashes said with a defiant grin, pleased that they had something to throw back in Tims face.

“Apologize?” Tim asked, very confused.

As a rule the Mechs didn’t apologize. It was hazardous and too much work. They were pricks and they had accepted that a long long time ago, if you did something mean the other knew who it was coming from and no apology would be necessary. But if there was one thing the Mechs also did, it’d be breaking rules.

Brian tapped a finger on his chin and said: “I think they’re on to something. He doesn’t want to say how he is feeling, but there’s obviously something wrong. So if we apologize he might feel better and be open to admitting he’s feeling bad and tell us what we did wrong.”

The next step of their plan was finding Jonny, which wasn’t that hard, since Brian had seen which way he had been running. And soon they found themselves outside of Jonnys room.

Brian knocked lightly and called out: “Jonny? Are you there?”

It was quiet for a moment as the three held their breaths, inside Jonny panicked again after he had just calmed down a bit.

He swallowed and reasoned with himself that there was a locked door between him and his potential attackers, so when Brian knocked again he softly replied: “Go away.”

“You don’t have to open the door.” Brian said.

“Yeah,” Tim added, “we just wanted to apologize.”

On the other side of the door Jonny frowned, why would they want to apologize to him? They’d done nothing wrong, he’d just been stupid, acting like a scared child. He had ran away and hid to panic over just a bit of teasing. They didn’t have to apologize for that.

“You don’t have to, just leave.” Jonny told them, a bit louder than before.

“No, we want to, Jonny.” Tim said, “We obviously upset you over something and we didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, we’re sorry.” Ashes spoke up as well.

Jonny huddled more into himself. He’d tried to make room for his lungs to expand to calm down, but now he just wanted the comfort of knees digging into his chest and arms tightening around them.

He didn’t want them poking around in what had set him off, he didn’t want them to know why he had reacted like this on a bad day. Jonny wanted the jokes to stay, not for them to walk on eggshells around him like he was going to snap if anyone made fun of his height.

He had manged by himself for many millennia, he did not need to be coddled.

So he bit out: “I don’t want your fucking apology, I want you to leave me the fuck alone. If you think you have something to apologize to me for than you should know I don’t want you near me right now. So. Go. The. Fuck. Away.”

That startled the three knocking on Jonnys door. They had expected him to struggle and be mad at them, but they’d never heard him sound like that. He sounded like a cornered prey that was baring his fangs in a last ditch attempt to scare his attackers off. It was frantic and scared.

They shared a look of wide eyes, before Brian carefully said: “Okay, we will leave. Sorry, uhm, hope you- no, uhm, see you later?”

He cringed at his own awkwardness.

Tim and Ashes agreed also telling Jonny they would leave. Then the three got out there, wondering what the hell had just happened and if Jonny would ever speak to them again.

Jonny waited until the three pairs of footsteps had faded completely and then another minute, before opening the door to check if they were really gone.

When he saw an empty hallway, his shoulders sagged with relief, before he retreated back into his room again, locking the door and hiding under his covers just willing this day to be over and hoping that tomorrow the bad feeling would be gone.

He actually managed to fall asleep at some point, because he woke up a bit later from the sound of someone shuffling through the vents near his room. He shot up and peered over the top of his covers and got his gun from his holster as he waited for the person to arrive.

The grate jiggled and he heard a familiarly accented voice say: “It’s me, Jonny, calm down.”

He lowered the gun and the covers and asked: “Nastya? What are you doing here?”

Nastya crawled out the vent and dusted herself off, before she answered: “I was send to check up on you after Brian, Tim and Ashes practically jumped me thinking they’d done something so horrible that you hated them forever.” she raised her brows and commented, “Which made me wonder what the fuck happened, since they were too panicked for details.”

Jonny groaned and let himself flop back down on his bed. He didn’t answer any further, so Nastya asked again: “Jonny, what happened? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Why does everyone ask me that.” he snapped.

“Maybe because you locked yourself in your room and worried three of your crew mates so bad they send me to check up on you?” Nastya told him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jonny waved her away, “You’re just not the first today.”

“And why did the others ask you then?” Nastya asked.

Jonny lolled his head to look at her and sighed, before beckoning her closer. She clambered up on the bed next to him, reminding her of a very long time ago.

Nastya could be described as a bean sprout, but she was Jonnys little sister in everything except blood and she would rest her head beneath Jonnys chin or be the little spoon (with very few exceptions).

Carding his hands through her hair, Jonny explained: “I had a few nightmares and was just off today, you know?”, he felt Nastya nod and went on, “I ran into them and it was just all bad. I panicked and ran, it was just too much.”

The hands stopped and when she looked up she could see him press the heels of his hands into his eyes. The pressure helped sometimes.

“Can you explain how it was bad?” Nastya asked gently, “You don’t have to, but do you know what was bothering you today?”

Jonny nodded as his hands returned, the repetitive motion soothing them both. As gentle as before Nastya asked: “Do you want to talk about it or just hug?”

Biting his lip, Jonny thought about it. He wanted to forget today ever happened, but if he told Nastya she would be the one to calm the other three down and get them off his case, which might be worth the reliving.

“I felt helpless.” he mumbled.

Humming in understanding Nastya tried to urge him to explain further. After a beat of silence Jonny continued: “I had a few nightmares, just the usual, but I woke up feeling just… bad. I can’t explain it otherwise, my chest just felt wrong.”

“Your chest?” Nastya repeated with concern.

“Not my mechanism.” Jonny assured her, “Just emotions.”

With the way he said it, you’d think emotions was someone who had personally wronged him, making Nastya chuckle slightly. The chuckle broke the fragile hush that had hung over the room as Jonny laughed as well.

They giggled together for a while, until they stopped with a soft sigh and Nasya got serious again: “So why did that freak them out so bad?”

Jonny wouldn’t have told anyone else, but Nastya was the exception, she’d always had been. So he said: “It just built up and I felt like I was in danger and needed to protect myself, please them until they left me alone. I couldn’t take it and ran. They came by and I told them to fuck off and they did.”

Slowly Nastya was putting the pieces together.

She had witnessed something like this a few centuries ago, when Jonny’d had a day like today. At the time she hadn’t known and when he snapped at her out of defense, she had used her height to tower over him as she snapped back, causing him to flinch so violently he’d almost broken his own neck.

Later, after he had hidden from her for an entire week, he had explained how sometimes his height or lack thereof would make him feel vulnerable and in danger, causing him to snap or please as a defense mechanism.

When the others had started teasing him, she’d gotten mad at them until Jonny had told her he didn’t really mind overall. Just on the bad days, but he could manage them he’d assured her. That had been untrue it seemed.

Although, she mused, he must have had more bad days between then and now that he had dealt with on his own, so that might be underestimating him.

She asked: “Want me to talk to them about it?”

It was silent for a second, then Jonny nodded slightly and mumbled: “Please, but no details, if it isn’t a problem of course.”

Apparently the bad day wasn’t over completely yet.

She assured him she wouldn’t tell them too much and hugged him tighter. Normally a bad day meant Jonny would be the little spoon, but on these bad days it was better for Jonny to feel bigger than Nastya, so she just remained lying on his chest, until both fell asleep.

They slept peacefully that night and the next day the feeling had disappeared from Jonnys chest as sudden as it had come. Nastya left to find the ones, who’d send her, but before she left she told Jonny: “If you ever had a bad day again and can’t find a way out, just tell Aurora and she’ll get you out, okay?”

Jonny nodded thankfully, both know he wouldn’t abuse such a thing and that he really was grateful. Then Nastya left while Jonny opted to hide out for another day.

She found Brian, Ashes and Tim in the common room moping. When she entered they all perked up, she had to smile at that. Tim asked: “And?”

“Well, he isn’t mad at you and he isn’t going to banish all of you out of his life.” Nastya told him, making them all sag in relief, (Nastya still wondered how they’d come to that conclusion),“He just had a bit of a shit day and it all got a bit too much.”

“What can we do to avoid it.” Brian asked.

It had shocked all three of them to see Jonny like that. He was violent and loud, always full of life and not afraid to fight, not scared and subdued and definitely not conflict evasive.

Nastya thought about it for a second, then she said: “If you see him acting off, don’t talk to him. Just turn around and leave him alone, the last thing he wants, is to deal with you along with everything else. Oh, and don’t ask him about it.”

All nodded that wasn’t too hard.

After Jonny came out of hiding a few days later, the three were a bit off around him, but when Raphaella had swept him off his feet and flown with him to the ceiling, telling him quote: “To show him what the world looked like from an other perspective than that of an octokitten.”

They had waited for him to get weird again, but he just playfully attacked her while yelling: “I’ll behead you, to show you what the perspective of an octokitten looks like, winged arsehole.”

And with that it just went back to normal and nothing was every said about it again. Not even the next time it happened a few decades later. When Marius and Brian saw Jonny walking around with hazy eyes and Marius wanted to check up on him, but was stopped by Brian.

There was a lot the Mechanisms did to each other, murder and maiming, but they also respected boundaries and trauma. It was okay to never know what had set Jonny off, just to leave him alone. Simple as that.

#RR writing #the mechanisms #the mechs #jonny d'ville #nastya rasputina #jonny d'ville & nastya rasputina #ashes o'reilly #gunpowder tim #drumbot brian #tw: panic attack #tw; implied/referenced abuse #tw: ptsd

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bgn846 · 3 years

Text

Marshal’s Creed FFXV Fanfic

Summary:

Cor dresses up for the annual Halloween gala in hopes to win a bet. Can he beat out everyone else at the party with the best costume?

Notes:

I had a fun prompt from my friend @ragewerthers for Cor Leonis getting invited to a Halloween party.... but what in the HELL is he supposed to go as?! Do Regis and Clarus help him? Do the boys help him? Does he decide to go scary? Funny? Mythical?

I hope you all enjoy, I had fun writing this! :)

Work Text:

“What is he wearing?” Regis asked under his breath from where they were standing near the steps to the throne.

“Not so sure, but it seems pretty popular with the ladies,” Clarus admitted as he craned his neck to see better.

“Dear six, he looks half-naked!” spluttered Regis after a moment.

“Sorta, he’s got pants and maybe something someone would consider a shirt on.” Though Clarus was still clueless as to what Cor had dressed up as. The annual Halloween gala was always a fun event. However, the marshal never dressed up.

Ever.

It was only the quick thinking of Regis with the tempting draw of a bet that enticed their friend into wearing anything special this year. A hefty amount of 500gil sat waiting for Cor if he dressed up and won one of the sundry costume awards to be gifted that night. The prizes given out were little awards trinkets, and the bragging rights until the next party. Of course, Cor could care less about any of that, the only reason he’d even agreed, was to prove Regis wrong and maybe relieve him of some decent spending cash.

The king had figured Cor wasn’t creative enough to even stand a chance. Regis had merely snorted and waved him off when the marshal assured them he’d win something. Now, as Clarus watched their friend navigate through the crowd he was beginning to think Regis might have to pay up at the end of the night.

The squeals of impressed party goers only got louder as Cor approached, as did the flash of lights from photos being snapped. The crowds dispersed once he’d reached the king. Cor yawned once seemingly bored with the whole affair already. “You might as well give me the money now, Regis.”

“Never!” the king hissed, “You aren’t going to win, look at you! What is that, it looks like a pile of rags!”

Before Cor could answer a young staffer passing by interrupted them with a shout, “Awesome costume!” They left just as quickly as Clarus began to examine the outfit in more detail.

“I’m afraid I’m lost as to what you are, care to enlighten us?”

“Eh, this? I have no idea, Noct helped me pick it out. Said it was the best costume to wear and had Ignis go online and order me one before I could say no.”

“You asked my son to help you?”

“Nope, he found out I was going to dress up and he nearly flipped. How could I say no, he begged me to let him help.”

“Still what the hell are you?” Regis asked in exasperation.

“An assassin I think?” Cor supplied with a furrowed brow. “Honestly, the kid was talking too fast for me to catch the exact name, but he said it was from a game.”

“Why in the heck would an assassin wear that? Your entire right side is exposed, seems like a defensive nightmare.”

“I’ll admit it’s not exactly realistic but it’s comfy at least.” Cor offered with a shrug.

“I don’t know why you let my son talk you into this, you look ridiculous.” Regis was about to add more when another party-goer/staffer wandered by and started staring. They were of course after a picture of Cor. The staffer was young and blushing like mad but still managed to ask for a selfie.

“I’m sorry what were you saying majesty? I got pulled away to have my picture taken because I’m going to win.”

Regis sneered and turned around to walk away. Clarus couldn’t help but snicker at the sight. Regis was a sore loser so a part of him hoped Cor wouldn’t win, but he probably would. The marshal, though not a youthful twenty-year-old anymore, could hold his own in the looks department. He was only in his forties now but still trained just as hard. His well-defined six-pack was evidence of that. Clarus suspected that most of the girls wandering over were trying to get a better look at what he’d been hiding under his guard uniform.

Cor for once didn’t mind the attention and even smiled for a few shots. It was nice to see his friend out of his element for once. “Have you seen his highness?” Clarus asked, figuring Noct would have at least had to help Cor get ready. Otherwise, the man wouldn’t have known how to wear the costume.

“Yeah, he’s coming soon, he was getting picky about his nails.”

“What?”

“You’ll see, he’ll match grumpy pants over there,” Cor announced with a chuckle. “Regis thinks sporting little tiny fake fangs makes him a good vampire. He’s so wrong.”

“Oh dear,” Clarus could only guess what Noct had conjured up. Ignis would have been key in gathering his needed elements, but the idea was most likely the princes. “What are the others dressing up as?”

Cor barked out a laugh, “I only saw Ignis and Prompto but it appeared they were wearing matching black suits.”

“That’s it?”

“Almost, if you don’t count the wolf tail they both had clipped to their belts and the wolf ear headbands.”

“I’m so confused,” he sighed. However, right as he was about to ask for more details a sudden hush overtook the room. Looking up he noticed what had caused the reaction. Ignis, Prompto, and his son were stalking over towards them. They all matched and looked quite formidable. However, Noct seemed to be missing. The black suits had matching black shirts and ties to go with. One might take them all for security guards aside from the addition of the animal ears atop their heads. One thing Cor hadn’t mentioned was their eye color. Each had donned a pair of contacts that made their eyes look golden and cat-like.

As they neared, Clarus realized there was a fourth pair of legs hiding behind Ignis. This must be the prince. Waiting patiently as the group finally came to a rest in front of them, Clarus was treated to the reveal. A pale hand with amusingly long pointy black nails slowly crept out from behind Ignis arm. It reached out and pointed straight at him. Then in a move that had Clarus snorting with laughter, Noct curled his fingers and beckoned him closer.

“You’re nuts if you think I’m letting you near me with those daggers,” he laughed.

Noct merely shook his finger and carefully leaned to the side to show his face. The prince’s hair was slicked back and someone had drawn in an exaggerated widow’s peak.

“I see you’re taking your role far more seriously than your father.”

“I shall win,” was all Noct uttered before he hissed and retreated behind his bodyguards again.

With a quick bow, Ignis led the way back out into the party. The advisor was playing his part very well and looked like he’d snap a person in two if they even tried to talk to the prince. Prompto was fighting to hide a smile as they turned to leave. Gladio offered Clarus and eyebrow waggle and a wink before he left. They were having fun it seemed.

“So forgive me for being a little behind on my fantasy lore, why are they all wearing animal ears and tails?” Clarus asked kindly.

“He’s a vampire and he needs his werewolf pack to protect him.”

“Ah, I see. Noct basically thought up the perfect costume, ensuring he doesn’t have to talk with anyone.”

“Pretty much, he’s clever in that way, unlike his old man!” Cor teased as Regis joined them again.

Ignoring Cor’s comment, Regis stared at Noct’s retreating party and tilted his head, “Was that my son?”

“Yep you missed the reveal; he’s a vampire with a coven of werewolves.”

Regis simply smiled and straightened his shoulders slightly, “He takes after me in so many ways.”

Cor groaned loudly and rolled his eyes, “You wish, look it I’m gonna go mingle and get some more votes in my favor. I’m winning this contest tonight, be ready to pay up.”

Regis tried to whack Cor in the shin with his cane, but the marshal was quicker and leaped out of the way. He laughed and casually wandered away, complete with a smug look of satisfaction.

“He’s such a brat sometimes,” Regis huffed.

“He’s only five years younger than you.”

“Shut it; let’s go see if we can convince the judges to ban him or something.”

Cor did not get banned.

Clarus had the joy of watching his friend claim a very special award, the citadels’ sexiest costume. Apparently, the panel of judges was also distracted by Cor’s exposed right side and six-pack. The few other contestants in that category didn’t stand a chance. No manner of makeup could fake muscles or a square jawline.

Regis didn’t have to pout for long though when his son won the night's overall best costume design. The king was proud of his son and his friends. They’d banded together to create a memorable look. Noct stayed in character when he accepted his award and tried to bite one of the presenters. Gladio sprang into action and held him back. The room erupted in laughter and cheers.

Suddenly thankful they could all enjoy moments like this together; Clarus smiled and looked over to his friend and King. Regis must have had a similar reaction as he returned a warm smile of his own and a small nod.

The rest of the night was a blur; Cor had come playfully demanding his money. Regis denied him, but Clarus knew he’d pay up in the morning. His liege kept trying to accuse Cor of cheating since he was only wearing half a costume. The marshal would then wiggle his award in front of Regis’ face as a rebuttal.

The music soon turned up loud enough that they couldn’t talk anymore. Opting to retreat to the far corner of the room the three friends sat and relaxed. They spend the remainder of the evening commenting on the costumes and the terrible music.

The End.

AO3 link is posted in the comments.

#ffxv #fanfic #cor leonis #the immortal #the marshal

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