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#Easily the scariest thing in the chapter
randomfandomarts · 3 months
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The first thing that came to my mind when I first saw Miss delight was this filter lol
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avanatural · 1 year
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Mind Games
Part 4
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Series summary: Set in 1984. It’s that time of the year – the supes are having the time of their lives at the Herogasm festival. Soldier Boy seems to have taken a special interest in Y/N, a fellow superhero.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x female Reader
Category: Angst, humor
Word count: 3.3k
Chapter warnings: Cursing, mentions of alcohol and smoking, Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy
A/N: Welcome to part 4! I hope you enjoy the new chapter! Poor Y/N’s patience is being tested in this one. Wanna be added to my Soldier Boy tag list? Send me an ask ❤️
Part 3 | Series Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist | Part 5
Main Masterlist
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“I see you’ve changed into your intended outfit.”
His deep voice made me want to cut off my ears. No one had told me that this movie required me to wear a dress that would suffocate me with how tight it was.
“I’m not sure it even fits me,” I mumbled as I stroked the fabric around my midriff. It was a white leather dress with a corset, similar to my actual supe outfit, but it was restricting my goddamn access to air. It was short enough that I couldn’t sit or bend or fight without people seeing… Well, all of me.
Soldier Boy pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning against. He’d put his helmet back on. It was like a mask. That open, vulnerable side of him that I’d gotten a tiny glimpse of was long gone. Hidden. Nowhere to be found.
“Oh, but you do look beautiful in it,” he flirted, pointing his finger at my scarcely clad body. His head bobbed from side to side as he stalked towards me. He was back to oozing confidence. The anger and resentment in his eyes had faded.
What was he up to? Did Soldier Boy himself even know what he wanted? 
“I take it you don’t wanna rip my head off anymore?”, I asked. My voice sounded a lot weaker than intended. At this point, I just wanted to go home. This movie was a shit show.
“What can I say? You’re lucky I’m into the assertive type.” He smiled an alluring smile. Combined with a charming tilt of his head, he deepened the creases around his eyes. 
The scariest thing about his change in demeanor was how my body responded to it. His charm was surely working its magic. My stomach was filled with swoony sensations that were begging me to shake them off.
“Lucky me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re sweet-talking me.” I tried sounding sarcastic, to the best of my ability. The problem was, his sweet-talking was working. My insides were practically yelling at me to finish what we’d started in that trailer. So, I tightened my vice-like grip on my heart as best as I could. I wasn’t gonna let him steal it.
Soldier Boy tempted me with his mossy green bedroom eyes and those plump pink lips. “Well, is it working?”
“No,” I lied, hoping that he couldn’t see through me. But then again, he probably wouldn’t believe any woman who told him his charm wasn’t working. He was self-centered like that. I had to remind myself that I was not a toy. That he couldn’t treat me as he pleased. Too bad male attention was my kryptonite.
Soldier Boy scoffed. I could see that he was losing what little patience he had. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, princess. Girls like to play hard-to-get. I know how it goes.”
“You know what?” I puffed out my chest in a rush of impulsion. “If you want different responses, maybe you should work on your technique. You need to win over a woman’s heart. Not just her body.” 
Soldier Boy narrowed his darkening eyes at me. He was like a loaded gun, ready to spit bullets in your face as soon as you got even remotely close to hurting his ego. “With manners like yours, you’re never gonna find a man. I don’t need to work on anything, how about you work on your fucking attitude?”, he snapped.
“Okay, everyone on their marks, please!”, the director called out.
Everyone hurried to their designated spots – the crew, the extras, the supes. Everyone except for us. Soldier Boy and I stood chest to chest, glaring at each other. The tension could easily have been cut with a rusty butterknife.
Gunpowder scurried past us, headed for his mark. I could feel the young man’s curious gaze on me as he tried to sneak past the two of us undetected.
Soldier Boy’s cold emerald gaze attached itself to the young supe. “Careful,” he spoke through gritted teeth, sending a warning Gunpowder’s way.
Gundpowder quickly averted his gaze and mumbled an incoherent apology. I didn’t even get a chance to catch his eye or say anything to him as he made a beeline for his mark, tail between his legs.
“Alright, doll face, let’s get this shit show over with,” Soldier Boy huffed. He took a step back, finally giving me some space to breathe. His hand reached out to me, his palm facing upward.
My eyes fixated on his hand. I hesitated. My muscles were frozen by ice-cold skepticism. When I looked up and met his eyes, warm pools of green and gold stared back at me. I tried not to let them melt away my distrust. This man was going to be the death of me. He was so unpredictable.
After a few seconds of hesitation, I placed my hand in his. As I felt his hand close around mine, a tiny, irritated smile attacked my face, forcing its way onto my lips.
“There you go,” Soldier Boy praised me with a nod of approval. He tugged me towards him and put his hand on my lower back. Seemingly deciding that he was in charge, he steered me to our marks.
We were about to shoot the final battle scene of the movie. Vought's strongest heroes vs. some no-name-greedy-for-power supervillains. And, who would have guessed, Soldier Boy was gonna save everyone’s day! Including mine. Damsel in distress number who-the-fuck-knew.
“Where- Oh! What the fuck?”, I exclaimed as Soldier Boy suddenly scooped me up in his arms, bridal style.
“Relax, princess. I’m supposed to catch you, you know that,” he had the audacity to scold me.
“How exactly is this scene gonna play out, huh?” I knew I was gonna fall from the sky like a stupid fucking apple from a tree, but this scenario rubbed me the wrong way.
“I’ll toss you into the air and catch you, piece of cake,” he sighed, obviously annoyed with my sheepish attitude.
“You’re gonna toss me?” I found myself locking my arms around his neck – a weak attempt to make him keep me in his arms. I was a supe, sure, but my body wasn’t immune to every possible danger. I wasn’t immortal. I could feel pain. My bones could break.
“Oh, have some fucking faith, will you?” Soldier Boy leaned in, so close that I could smell the whiskey we’d shared on his breath. “I’m not gonna let you hit the ground.” His insanely green eyes, framed by his new helmet, penetrated mine. “Unless you piss me off.”
“Ready, everyone?”, the director yelled.
“You better catch me,” I hissed in Soldier Boy’s ear.
He scoffed, radiating hubris. “Wanna fucking bet?”
“Sure. If you let me fall, you can kiss my ass,” I mumbled under my breath. Sue me, I was a nervous talker.
“And if I catch you, I’ll get to gag you, how about that?”, he retorted.
“You’re so-”
“And 3… 2… 1!”
Before I could say another word, Soldier Boy bent his knees, pushed himself back up, and used the force to throw me straight up into the air.
I cried out as I flew towards the sky. Right in that moment, I questioned my own sanity. A few profanities left my lips as I reached the highest point and felt myself fall back down. My stomach turned as I pictured myself flat as a goddamn pancake, spread out across the floor with blood for sirup.
Then suddenly, I felt some harsh pushback, and a loud gasp was forced out of my lungs. I had abruptly stopped falling. My eyes were shut tightly, waiting for the pain to arrive. Or the shock. But nothing really happened.
“You’re okay,” a warm, breathy voice hit my ears.
When I opened my eyes, I was met with Soldier Boy’s handsome face. He was the pushback. His arms were wrapped around me, holding onto my legs and my back. He was carrying me bridal style, just like he had a few moments ago. That son of a bitch had actually done it.
“You caught me,” I mumbled, faintly remembering the lines I was supposed to say. My heart was still throwing a tantrum in my chest.
“I sure did.” He put on the kindest smile I’d ever seen. The asshole could act, who would’ve guessed? “You alright?”
“Yes.” I had to bite my tongue before I was able to say my next line. “Thank you for saving me.”
“Anytime, my dear.” Gently, he placed me back on the ground. His hand stayed on my lower back, sending a surge of warmth through my body. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”, he asked. 
I batted my eyelashes at him as hard as I could and placed my hand on my chest. “I’m Trouble.”
“You’re part of the cavalry,” he said, pretending to be surprised by widening his eyes. “Payback appreciates your help. Just be more careful from now on, alright?” He inched closer, cooking up his very own line before delivering it straight to my face. “Though I gotta say… It’s not every day that pretty women like yourself fall from the sky.”
The corners of my mouth quivered slightly, threatening to break out in a smile. His gaze held me down, taunting me, asking me to break. I didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. “Careful, my dear,” I responded, repeating his pet name for me. I lifted my chin to meet his eyes. “You don’t wanna get in trouble, do you?” When he paused, not saying anything, I continued, “Say hi to Countess for me.”
With a wink, I turned around and walked away from him, out of the camera’s sight. I felt his heated gaze on my back and didn’t dare turn back.
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I let out the biggest grunt as soon as the door to my apartment fell shut behind me. Home, at last. Without a care, I dropped my bag on the floor. My hands found my hair and tugged on the strands before brushing them back.
“You sound tired,” a small voice rang out from the living room.  
With enlarged eyes, I pushed myself away from the door and stomped into the living area. “Lily??”
And sure enough, my sister was sitting on the couch, watching tv like she’d done nothing else all day.
“What the hell are you doing here?”, I demanded, “You’re supposed to be with aunt Gemma!”
Lily shrugged her shoulders at me, wearing a tiny frown on her face. “She had an emergency.”
“Yeah, I bet with that Greg guy.” I ground my teeth. The muscles in my jaw already hurt from all the tension I’d lived through that day. I leaned against the couch, my hands landing on the backrest. “How long have you been here by yourself?”
“Just a couple hours.”
“A couple hours,” I repeated. “That’s it. I’m gonna kill her.”
“Y/N, I���m fine,” Lily objected, looking up at me with those innocent eyes, trying to be convincing.
“Did you eat?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay,” I sighed, trying my best not to seem annoyed with her. Lily wasn’t the problem. Everyone else was. Including me. I tried pushing my anger down and locking it away. “I’ll heat up some leftovers.”
My sister nodded and followed me into the kitchen, trailing after me like a puppy. “How did it go today?”, she asked.
Well, that was a loaded question. “Let’s just say you’re gonna get those sneakers you asked for.”
“Yes!” Lily fist-bumped the air. “Thank you, Y/N!” She hurried around the counter and wrapped her arms around my waist.
Despite my sour mood, I smiled and hugged her back. “You’re welcome.” I squeezed her small body and paused for a second to enjoy the moment. The smile on her face, the joy in her eyes – that was the reason why I’d accepted Vought’s offer. It was worth the crappy day I had.
“So, how was working with Soldier Boy?”, Lily asked, wriggling out of my embrace, looking at me with wide, curious eyes.
“It was… Good,” I lied through my teeth and looked away, busying myself with preparing dinner. I couldn’t look at Lily’s face and tell a lie. I’d never been able to.
“What’s he like? Will you see him again? How tall is he?”
Oh boy, it was gonna be a long night.
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A few weeks later
“Touble! Trouble, just one shot, please!”
“Trouble, over here!”
I pulled down my cap, hoping to somehow disappear in it. Too bad I didn’t have teleportation powers. Ever since pictures from the movie set of Payback Rising had been sold to the press, the general public had taken an interest in little old, mediocre me.
A picture of Soldier Boy and I had made it into the newspapers. A photograph of him carrying me. Of us staring into each other’s eyes. Now people were making up stories left and right. The press liked to make these things bigger than they were.
The good news was, I was getting offers. They wanted me for talk shows, interviews, and photoshoots.
The bad news was, these offers all included Soldier Boy. It was either both of us or nothing. On my own, I still wasn’t interesting enough. Still not worthy. So, what I had gained aside from the money was to be a target for the paparazzi.
“Let me through. Thanks,” I snapped, annoyed, knowing that I once again had to take a detour before going home. I didn’t need these sleazebags in front of my building. It took me a bit longer to get home that way, but I was willing to make the effort.
When I came home to a ringing telephone, I instantly rolled my eyes. I couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.
As I stood in front of the telephone, I contemplated whether I should answer or not. All I truly wanted was to sit down, have a glass of wine, and forget about everything that had to do with Vought and Soldier Boy.
“Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath and picked up against my better judgment. “Hello?”
“Trouble?”
I recognized that voice. But I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. With narrowed eyes, I leaned against the ugly wall in the hallway. “Who’s this?”
“Vought’s VP of hero management. We met briefly on the set of Vought’s new movie.”
That certainly rang a bell. “The Legend,” I sighed and made a fist around the telephone cord, “What is it?”
“I heard that you’ve been declining a whole lotta offers. Interviews, photoshoots, that kind of thing.” He lowered his voice, making me guess that his call was anything but official.
“Well, they don’t really want me for those appearances,” I said, “They want-“
“You and Soldier Boy, I know. Excuse my foul language, but I think you’re being a fucking dimwit.”
“You’re calling me just to tell me that?”, I demanded, clenching the muscles in my jaw.
“I’m calling you to help you out,” he retorted, “I know talent when I see it, Y/N.”
“You told me not to take anyone’s shit. And now you expect me to take yours?”
“I told you to play to your goddamn strengths. Right now, the greatest superhero in the world is interested in you. And the biggest fucking talk show just sent in an offer. Forget all the other jobs, this is the one you’ll wanna take. This is your fucking way into the business, Y/N. You can be huge. Don’t be dumb, girl.”
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“Lily? Lily!”, I called out, walking out of hair and make-up. Yes, I had taken the offer. I was attending the damn talk show to speak about my experience on Payback Rising. Of course, I couldn’t say anything remotely close to the truth.
I’d told my sister to wait for me while they dressed me, and now she was nowhere to be found. 
She had begged me to take her with me to meet Soldier Boy. And when I say she begged, I mean she fucking begged me. Dozens of puppy eyes later, I had agreed to let her say hi to him. Just say hi. In my presence. I only hoped he wasn’t going to disappoint her. Because if he did, I was going to put him in the ground, no matter who the hell he was.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I found my sister standing in front of a table with snacks. I recognized him instantly. He was wearing his signature suit, minus the mask. Lily was being accompanied by none other than Soldier Boy himself. Her small hands were clasped together nervously as she admired him from below. She was staring up at that tower of a man with little hearts in her eyes.
As soon as Soldier Boy spotted me walking towards them, he smugly lifted his chin. A cunning grin appeared on his lips. “Ah, Y/N! There you are! We were wondering when you’d join us.”
My hands found my hips as I ignored him and addressed my sister instead. “Lily, I told you to wait.” I was anything but amused.
“I’m sorry.” Lily pouted at me. Underneath that pouty face, though, she was hiding tons upon tons of excitement. Her eyes held a spark.
“It’s my fault, really,” Soldier Boy spoke up, pulling my attention back to him, “She looked a little lost back there, all by herself, so I took her under my wing.” His gloved hand squeezed my sister’s shoulder to highlight his point.
I stared back at him with a blank expression. I knew exactly what he was doing, and I didn’t like it. He was painting me in a bad light. I left my sister by herself, so of course, he had to go and play her savior.
“How incredibly kind of you,” I praised him through gritted teeth.
“Nah, it’s no big deal.” He shrugged his massive shoulders, delivering a little show of humbleness. “Lily and I were having a grand old time, weren’t we?” He looked down at my younger sister with so much kindness that it didn’t surprise me how enamored she was.
“The best!”
“I may be the strongest man alive...” Soldier Boy placed a hand on his chest and inched closer to me. “But you, Y/N.” He pointed his finger at me and clicked his tongue. “You’re the real hero. Working two jobs at once, no husband to support you. This might be your breakthrough. I truly want it for you.”
Yeah, because you know this ‘breakthrough’ isn’t happening without you. “Thank you.” I put on a friendly fake smile. The one I’d practiced in front of the mirror because I’d known he was gonna annoy me one way or another. “It means a lot, coming from you. But I think we’re about to start rolling, so…”
“Yeah, let’s go.” He turned to my sister and ruffled her hair, which made her fucking laugh. Usually, she all but freaked out when someone touched her precious hair. “You stay good for your sister, okay?”
“I will. It was a pleasure meeting you, Soldier Boy,” Lily spoke, using the same polite words I’d spent years trying to teach her.
“Oh, the pleasure was all mine, sweetheart.” Soldier Boy bent down, hands on his knees as he looked her in the eye. He lowered his voice, whispering to her like he was telling her a big secret. “And call me Ben.” With a charming wink, he straightened his back again.
“Okay, Ben.” The smile on Lily’s face became so wide that I could have sworn it was about to break her cheeks. “Thank you.”
I, on the other hand, wasn’t half as bewitched as my sister. The corners of my mouth sagged, a scowl masking my face. “Let’s go… Ben.”
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Part 5
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ewingstan · 6 months
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Still on 9.10, feeling really bad for Damsel. Victoria is commenting on how much she seems to be subtly threatening them, how much she's darkly echoing everything Swansong is saying, but honestly it feels like she's just desperate to be included.
Her and Swansong are first shown together on the balcony, but it then changes to Swansong jumping down to the larger group, Damsel overlooking them from afar. She keeps making a bunch of comments about how they're on the same side, about how they could let her go with them, and while Victoria sees all her unhelpful interjections as mocking it feels more like attempt to remind everyone she's there. She had found a companion with her other self, but now she was with the group again, and she's being left behind.
While Victoria is noting how much her every comment drips with malice and duplicity, she also notes how Damsel seems more like an Ashley who stayed with the Nine—that is, an Ashley whose pre-existing need to present as a fearsome villain or risk being killed had been made stronger than ever before. And obviously Damsel would remain in that mindset more than Swansong had—she'd been staying in prison. Not being someone to fuck with was a very real concern for her that she had to practice. Swansong had been working to "turn off" the villainous presentation to a certain extent because it was actively detrimental to her life in civilian society, Damsel only had the need to stay in that mode enforced. Its notable enough that Swansong of all people is giving her shit for it:
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Swansong knows herself well enough to know that she can be manipulated just by invoking threats to her reputation. She's at a point where she has people she doesn't need to be full scary for, and looking at how much being fully in that state makes her easy to manipulate is embarrassing for her. This is the same person who at the beginning of the story who was sent into a panic attack by losing a sparring match and responded by telling everyone how easily she could kill them, and she's embarrassed by how much Damsel needs to be the scariest person in the room. It seems pretty clear that Damsel just can't turn that off. She doesn't have a Kenzie she can be fun-scary with, a Rain to decompress with, a Victoria to offer things to without being seen as weak. She's stuck being fearsome lonely and not being able to offer any help in a way that sounds sincere.
Well that's depressing. Now what's going on in the rest of this chapter:
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YEAH RATCATCHER EVERYONE START CHEERING OR I'LL RELEASE THE INCENDIARIES WOOOO RATCATCHER!!!!!
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skzhocomments · 5 months
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Mafia Book #2 - PART I - The Black Iris - Chapter 2 - Time Machine
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Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.
General masterlist
Wattpad | AO3
Chapter 1 | Chapter 3
---
PART I - THE BLACK IRIS
Chapter 2 - Time Machine
chapter word count: 4k words
This is it. She thought. It will finally end. Just one more step.
She breathed in anxiously a couple of times, her chest rising up and down rapidly, and after a few moments of gathering her courage, deep breaths in her lungs, she jumped.
She expected to be free falling for a couple of seconds until she inevitably hit the cold water down below, the impact probably shattering enough bones for her to be unable to swim, and drown if she somehow survived the impact.
However, instead of the liberating feeling of free falling and then the bliss of death, she felt herself dangling over the dark abyss under her.
Her whole body was being forcefully pulled back up by two strong arms, and she was surprised to see Minho's horrified, breathless figure.
Just like last time. he thought. I just can't stay away.
Seeing someone commit suicide never phased Minho. More often than not, he was the reason behind people taking their own lives instead of suffering at his cruel hands. So why did he intervene? Why did he run over to the other side as quickly as he could, praying that he'll get there in time to stop her?
He's certainly never prayed for anything else before.
Why did he care?
They only shared one kiss and some silent greetings from the other side of the bridge.
That's all.
So why did he find himself pulling on her arm with all his strength?
"Yah," he started. "if you really want to give up on your life so easily, give it to me."
Did she hear him right?
"What are you saying?" she asked, perplexed. "Why did you stop me?"
Despite what she just tried to do, she was composed and calm. The only indication that she could've been nervous were her still rapid breaths.
"You heard me. Instead of throwing it all away, give it to me. I'll handle it with care, doll."
His gaze was burning through her skull, but the scariest thing of it all was that he actually looked like he meant it.
He wanted her. Badly.
And he always got what he wanted, one way or another.
Minho let go of her arm and bent down to pick her shoes, helping her put them on.
Her still expressionless face turned into a frown, as she spoke:
"Minho, there's nothing you can use me for. I don't feel anything anymore. I'm broken beyond repair..."
"I doubt that, Iris. So, why don't you join me?" He stood up and held out his hand towards her expectantly.
"I'm not doing this for you, just so you know. I'm doing this for me." He continued, bringing a small chuckle out of her.
Iris noticed the familiar lust in his eyes and she knew that it had nothing to do with her whatsoever. She knew he was infatuated with her from the first moment their eyes met, and the touch of their tongues two months ago only proved so further.
She had to be crazy to take his hand.
But what was there to lose that she hasn't already lost?
So, as crazy as it seemed, she grabbed his hand and held on to it for dear life.
He reciprocated the gesture and gently folded his palm to completely capture hers, both starting to walk away from the bridge.
~
"Where are we going?" she asked, walking next to him leisurely.
"Hmm, what about a hotel for now? I can't take you home just yet."
"Why not? Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you? A few children you're trying to run away from?"
"Pff, girlfriend? Why not wife?" He chuckled.
"Because you don't wear a ring, nor do you have any mark on your finger to indicate that you ever wore one."
"Observant."
"That's my job."
"Yea? What do you do for a living?"
"I studied psychology for a few years, and now I'm a therapist." She said, before muttering a small "Was." under her breath, too quiet for Minho to hear.
"Beautiful and smart. But doll, since you're going to follow me, you'll need to stop working. I'll give you as much money as you want anyway."
"... As you know, I was planning to die tonight, so I quit my job already. But really? How much money is that?"
"You name it. No amount is off the table."
"1 million dollars."
"Sure. That's nothing." He shrugged.
"Hm, is that so? Let me ask you one question then – are we talking cash only?"
Minho stopped and looked at her.
"What is it, doll?" Iris smirked.
"Why would you ask that?"
"Hmm." She shrugged. "Since you know what I do for a living, shouldn't you also tell me what you do?"
"Seems you already figured it out somehow." A mischievous grin appeared on his face.
"Perhaps. Let me know how close I am. Your fighting skills are immaculate, and you carry yourself with a lot of confidence. You could've been a policeman, in a perfect world, maybe, but since you're willing to throw so much money out the window for, essentially, a stranger, I'd say there's no way. You're a gangster, maybe?"
He fooled around with many girls before, with some of them even for multiple months until he inevitably got bored, but they never came close to at least guessing what he did. No matter how much money he'd throw their way, how many details he'd share. They were all oblivious.
But Iris?
Oh, how intelligent she was. Way too delicious.
"You knew, but still chose to follow me?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Mhm. You know, Minho? I've had many clients and I've dealt with many criminals in my short-lived career. Maybe some of them your friends?" She winked playfully. "It became so easy to see through them... they're all like glass. Their intentions are clearly visible to me."
"Is that so?" He asked, curiosity lacing his tone. He wanted to know more about her.
"You, however... seem to be more human than any other criminal or normal person I've met. Since I can't seem to get rid of you and you won't even let me die in peace... why not just join you and satisfy this curiosity of mine?"
"They say if you play with fire, you get burned."
"I'm not wooden, Minho. I'm gasoline."
Oh, how much he liked her.
"Why work with criminals, though? Why pick that field instead of living a chill life and listening to regular people's rants?"
"..."
"Is it the same reason that brought you on top of the bridge's railing tonight?"
"You're observant as well." She smiled. "It is. I just... wanted to get something back for myself."
"You've said that before."
"I didn't, though. I didn't get it back. I don't know how to get it back. So, I did the only thing that could stop this... train of thoughts I can't shut down."
"What is it that you lost?"
"That's a story for another night, doll." She smiled. "Do take me to your house though, will you? No hotels."
"If you insist..."
~
~Iris' POV~
"Shit, you weren't joking when you said a million bucks is nothing to you." I remarked, as Minho led me to an enormous house in the heart of the city. If not for the large gates where the garden starts, you'd think this was in the middle of a public park, judging by the size.
"Of course I wasn't." Minho rolled his eyes.
I was impressed. This was one big ass house you normally only see in movies, or on Google Maps if you're bored enough, and it's so perfectly strategically hidden, that you wouldn't even know such a wonderful mansion is hiding among the greenery.
"So, who else lives here?"
"My brothers and sisters, you'll get along well." He winked, opening the big mansion's door.
As soon as you could peek inside, the first thing you'd see is a big ballroom-like space with an intricate staircase leading upstairs.
What kind of parties must be happening here? I thought, but brushed the thought away. I didn't want to end up caught in superficial details, even though getting lost in details was what I was most used to doing.
When we entered, a very attractive man stepped out of a room on the right side – what seemed to be a kitchen – and stared at us intimidatingly.
"Who is this?" he asked coldly, eyeing me up and down.
What a bad day to not wear my usual work clothes: the pencil skirt and my high heels. It would've been a different kind of power play, perhaps, taking into account the man's elegant attire.
"Chris, hello to you too." Minho replied, taking my hand in his protectively. His hand was warm, and his thumb grazed over mine assuringly.
You are safe. Is what he wanted to tell me. I will protect you no matter what.
This Chris dude, despite his daunting appearance, looked absolutely harrowing. His skin was dull, his eyes puffy, big dark circles surrounding them, and his hands were shaking a bit; he had ridges around his nails' bed.
Sleep deprivation and vitamin B deficiency. I thought.
"Yes, yes, hello." He replied, slight irritability in his tone. "Now, back to this question, who is this?"
"Well, 'this' is right in front of you, and you can address her directly." I spoke, taking my hand out of Minho's and handing it towards the man, in anticipation of a shake.
"I am Iris. It's nice to meet you, Chris." I put on my best smile, following his reactions.
He contemplated for a second before shaking my hand, his eyes staring directly into mine. They were devoid of any emotion; only an authoritative figure would be able to look so soulless.
"So, Iris, what brings you to my mansion?"
"You must be the boss, then." I smiled, my words making him raise an eyebrow.
"And you must know what we're doing, then. Minho, may we have a word in private?"
~
~Minho's POV~
"Minho, may we have a word in private?" Chan spoke, his cold gaze meeting mine. I needed to play my cards right.
What should I say? Should I lie? Should I tell him I'm in love with her or something? I thought, but before having enough time to react, Iris started speaking again.
"Chris, I'm a licensed therapist specialising in psychological criminology and Minho brought me here to help all of you manage your emotions. Of course, I won't interfere in any way with your business, nor do I care for it too much." she shrugged.
What game is she playing?
For a brief moment, confusion was written all over Chan's face, before it contorted with anger.
"Why?" He asked, annoyed. "What are you getting out of it?"
"Out of what?" Iris asked, her brows furrowing as if she was puzzled by his sudden outburst.
"Out of coming here."
"... A fresh start, and I've been promised some pretty bucks." She replied after contemplating for a few seconds. "So, I followed him." Iris smiled and pointed her thumb to me.
"Minho, I told you countless times that I don't need therapy, and what do you do? You go out of your way and bring in a stranger-"
"Don't you, though?" Iris interrupted him; her tone was harsh, as if she was threatening him.
"Look, I don't know what he told you about me, but-"
"He didn't tell me anything." She smiled. "I never get info on my clients from somebody else. I like to make my own analysis. Actually, before walking through the door I didn't even know your name, nor did Minho mention anything about you specifically needing therapy. But after speaking with you for just 2 minutes, I can tell you need help, and I can help you."
"I don't need any help. I already told you." He retorted, defence lacing his tone.
"Chris, let me point something out to you. You are currently trembling, and you are getting more irritated by the minute. You most likely don't know why you're shaking, nor why your hands and feet are probably tingling right now. Either that, or they are completely numb."
"..."
"Okay... since you let me continue... I can tell from a glance that you have a severe case of insomnia and a lack of appetite that is causing all sorts of issues with your body, mainly a vitamin deficit. I'm no doctor, though, so you might want to get that checked out."
Fuck, she's good. I smirked. She was really observant, and she completely got Chris' attention.
"No, I'm really okay-"
"What did you eat today?"
"... what?"
"How much?" Iris kept her professional smile on her lips.
"... one apple?"
"And yesterday?"
"..."
"Two days ago? Last week? Last month?"
"Look, I told you-"
"Aren't you feeling more drained of energy than ever?"
"..."
"And right now, Chris... you started involuntarily fidgeting. Are you feeling restless? Why are you breathing faster and sweating, hm? Could it be that... everything I said... was spot on... and you're getting nervous?" she smiled gently.
"This doesn't mean anything..." he rubbed his nape.
"Let me help you."
"I don't need help."
"We can get to the bottom of it together." She spoke calmly.
Her sweet voice was becoming an obsession; it was melody to my ears. Would she speak that gently to me as well?
It was like magic. The way she articulated her words made you want to open up to her, to let her know anything and everything. Maybe what they say is true, and every human being has something to them that makes them special. Some sort of magic.
Maybe that thing about Iris was her soothing voice.
"No." Chris replied again, lowering his head and rubbing his forehead. "You can't do anything to help me. No one can."
"That's not true."
"Unless you can change the past." Chan chuckled bitterly. He probably didn't realise it, but he was opening up to her just by telling her this small detail – that there was something in his past that needed to be changed somehow, that he was powerless in this regard, however, and there was no way to change anything.
It was the first time since killing Hyo that Chan seemed not so opposed to the idea of trusting someone new.
Maybe it was because I was the one to bring Iris here. He could've pulled out his gun and shot her, with how impulsive he's been lately. This was the reason why I was reluctant to bring Iris to this place, instead of a hotel. We've all been walking on eggshells around him.
But he didn't.
Maybe he still trusted my judgement.
He didn't ever hold Emilia's death over my head, even though I shared part of the blame for it. I, too, trusted Hyo more that night, and accepted every word she told us without questioning them for a second. Still, in Chan's eyes, I was not at fault, and he never blamed me.
Maybe that's why I felt so responsible for everything, why I so desperately wanted to make things right.
"I'm afraid I can't do that." Iris touched his shoulder, making him flinch. However, he didn't move away. "I can't turn back time."
It was such a simple sentence, but it managed to bring a smile to Chan's face. The first genuine one I've seen lately. Last one was at Changbin's birthday party, but even that felt like a lifetime ago. It just occurred to me that he no longer smiles as carefree or brightly as he used to. It was so weird to see Chris like this again, but it felt so good, too. Liberating, almost.
Maybe all he needed all this time was to open up to someone else, a stranger with no ties to what went down that could objectively analyse the facts, that wouldn't be emotionally involved.
"I can, however, help you make sense of what happened in the past, and make you start accepting where you went wrong, instead of blaming and tormenting yourself to the point of self-destruction." Iris continued, returning his smile.
Her magic seemed to have the same effect on Chris as it did on me, I figured after hearing a small whisper saying "Okay."
"Thank you." She resumed her spot next to me and grabbed my hand, squeezing it.
She must've been nervous as well, but she didn't let it show at all, like a true professional.
"Then... will you show her the house, Minho?" Chan scratched his nape and started heading upstairs. "I'm really tired, I'll try to take a nap for now."
"Sure thing, boss."
~
Iris grazed the whole railing with her fingertips so gently, I remember the way she drew circles on my nape when we kissed so many nights ago. She seemed so caught up in the details, that I wasn't sure if I wanted to interrupt her thoughts.
I guided her to my room, and she seemed so curious about everything, taking in as much as possible. When I first saw her and got mesmerised, I had no idea she was going to end up being here.
I've never brought anyone back home before.
"This place is so beautiful. Who are these people?" She spoke after a while, stopping in front of the wood cabinet on the left side of the room and glancing at the big picture on the wall.
"That is... every important person that ever stepped in this house."
"Tell me their names." She smiled. "And their stories. Something about them that makes them be who they are in your eyes."
"Okay..." I chuckled. "This is Jisung, my best friend. He gets me. Hyunjin is... a very artistic person. Maybe you'll be invited to the greenhouse one day, to paint."
"The greenhouse?"
"Mhm. It's an art studio in the back gardens... I'll walk you through them tomorrow, during light. The gardens are very beautiful. I think you'd like them."
"Yea." She hummed. "I think so too."
"This right here is Felix, he lightens up any room he walks in."
"His smile is beautiful." Iris complimented.
"This is Momo, she is my partner. We do business together..."
"What kind of business?"
Should I tell her?
If she's going to live here, she should know, right?
"... gun trades." I hesitated but replied after a while.
Iris just nodded.
"Changbin... is a very supportive friend. He's the next in line if something happens to Chris or me."
"He's hot." She mumbled, and I playfully slapped her arm.
"Don't." I said with a slight chuckle.
"Just saying. He hits the gym, and it shows." She shrugged.
"Anyways, this is Jeongin. He used to be... really happy. But now... you'll see. You should try talking to him too, maybe you can help him."
"Yea. I'll try."
"This over here is Hyo. We don't really... talk about her."
"Why not?"
"She... betrayed us." I spoke, remembering that night almost 2 years ago when I so blindly trusted her. "This is Seungmin. He has snarky remarks, but he's a funny guy."
"Snarky remarks. My favourites." Iris chuckled.
"You already know Chris and me. Should we go to sleep?"
"You didn't tell me who she is." Iris pointed out to the one person I didn't want to talk about, for I was still holding on to the guilt of that night.
"That's..."
"The reason why Chris wants a time machine." She pointed out plainly.
"Mhm. Emilia. Soon will be her 2-year death anniversary."
"Chris looks so happy next to her..."
"He was. He was so happy, and we all ruined it."
"How?" Iris touched my right cheek gently, wiping away a tear I haven't even realised fell off.
"I really don't like... looking at this picture."
"I know. That's okay."
"We... killed her. All of us, with the dumb decisions we made that night... when Hyo betrayed us. I can't understand how we trusted her so blindly..."
"You know, Minho? The harshest betrayal never comes from your enemies."
"I know..."
"You were not wrong to trust someone." She whispered.
"I was not right either."
"We all make mistakes. What Chris feels right now... is not your fault. Don't put all the blame on yourself."
Her hand was still on my cheek, and I leaned into her touch.
How did she know? I wondered.
How did she know that I've been pondering on this over and over, that the only reason I've been coming to the bridge at 3 AM was because it was the only place where I could stop myself from thinking of everything that I could've done differently?
How did she know that I needed to be comforted?
I haven't even shared that much, but she seemed to have it all figured it out. She seemed to understand Chris, what happened, and me.
I let my head fall on her shoulder as she took me into a warm embrace.
Her waist fit perfectly in my hands, and as I pulled my head away, I pressed our lips together. I kissed her eagerly, loving her sweet tongue on mine, but unlike last time, I didn't want to do anything that would risk her moving away from me. I let her be in control, and she thoroughly explored my mouth, our breaths turning into short gasps in the few seconds we would spend apart.
Her hands found their way to my back, holding on to me as if I were an anchor to her. I wanted more, and for a short moment, I thought she wanted more as well, as our bodies stumbled on the bed and she got on top of me, not missing a beat.
She kissed me hungrily, but I happened to be even hungrier than she was. It was getting excruciatingly hard to let her have her way with me when all I wanted was to spin us around, get on top of her and fuck her senseless.
Still, I didn't do anything besides responding to her every touch the same way, my hands never once leaving her waist.
After a bit more kissing, she pulled away, the smeared lipstick on her face and innocent look in her black eyes driving me crazy.
"I'm sorry, Minho. I think it would be best to stop here and go to sleep." Her weight disappeared from my body, and her words left me cold. "It's been a long night for me..."
"Okay." I replied, wanting to seem indifferent. Even so, she could read me like an open book, so she just chuckled.
"Don't be disappointed. In normal circumstances you'd be here alone, and I'd be lying on the bottom of the lake, lungs full of water."
"Do you really have to put it that way?" I retorted. For some reason, I disliked hearing about her death, although what she was saying was true.
We weren't exactly from different worlds. If I would've done anything stupid enough to get caught, I might have even gotten to know her. But still, both of us finding solace on that bridge, with the abyss below us, felt like fate pulling its strings.
"Why, Minho, does death bother you?" She smiled.
"It doesn't. I just want to find out why it brings you so much comfort."
She looked away. It appears I once again hit a nerve.
"I will bring you some clothes to change into. Do you mind sleeping together?"
"What, you have such a big mansion and no free rooms?" She chuckled lightly.
"There are two empty rooms..."
"But not really empty, are they?"
I nodded. She got it once more.
It felt good to not have to say out loud that Emilia's room has stayed the same ever since she left, or that there were still Hyo's socks in the drawer next to the bed in her room. So much for having empty rooms.
"Let's sleep together, then. I don't mind waking up to an attractive man that's madly in love with me." She laughed.
"Don't push it." I joked back and threw her some of my pyjamas.
She went to change, and when she returned, we laid down next to each other in bed, our feet touching.
She closed her eyes and sighed, letting her body relax against the pillow.
"What are you thinking about?" I whispered.
"This day... was insane. What am I doing here?" She chuckled.
"You gave me your life, remember?"
"Mhm. Will you give me yours as well?"
"Only if you tell me how you do it."
"How I do what?"
"How you realised how Chris was feeling, how you knew not to ask further when I told you about the rooms... how you knew that we've been hurting..." I closed my eyes as well, feeling myself get sleepy.
"It takes one to know one." She whispered.
"You were not too far off earlier." I replied, feeling myself slowly drift off to sleep. "I am kind of... in love..."
"Sleep." She commanded with a slight chuckle in that persuasive but soothing voice of hers, and listening to her, I gave in, the events of today tiring me to the point of exhaustion.
---
Chapter 1 | Chapter 3
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bonnieventure · 11 days
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Ask game: 🐸
🤨 LEAST UNDERSTOOD CHARACTER: don't rly understand the level of infatuation giro has for natsu, it comes out of nowhere (imo) and seems ooc how easily bent out of shape he gets .oO0( i think that is meant to be the charm point, roughened warrior with a soft weakness type) but it feels too easy 1% -> 100% escalation of devotion right off the bat, does that make sense. i get exaggeration to comedic lengths but i guess if i had to choose, i never quite get what's going on with him.....as a Frog...what is the reason for His Hop, 👥 MOST ENJOYABLE INTERACTIONS:
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i like this dynamic with kuru and moa best, the 'stern mentor up against a free spirit' type. it's cute she fell into position as part of the 'guy in the chair' lair operations...i'm blanking on what num # / title but there is a chapter of the manga i like where they are working together in the lab, to make contact with some sort of interdimensional frog 😱 SCARIEST CHARACTER:
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absolutely no bike ride given to this thing ! me and my friends would've beaten this e.t. with hammers i'll tell you that much 🥵 HOTTEST CHARACTER: .oO0( it's an obvious answer
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🤔 SOMETHING UNLIKEABLE ABOUT MY FAV:
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he only shows up in like 2 episodes...a chapter, perhaps ?..frankly it's unfrogivable...he's been my discord icon for a lil bit but the creature just needs more content 🎬 QUOTE / SCENE:
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❌ CHARACTER THAT SHOULD'VE BEEN CUT:
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i'm literally so sorry to say this because it's not even fair we haven't gotten to that part yet. but whenever i see this one i think it's molding, like it has bacteria....i'm sorry.... i fear he will spore ⛵ A SHIP THAT SHOULD'VE SAILED: not a ship but i wish toro and moa interacted in canon cuz i think it would've been funny 😭 and just that they are my favourites...
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Holy shit the May 5th entry hits so different because I’m sitting here marking all the things Dracula does that are simply bad vibes
First of all, hats off to that first driver trying so hard to speed Jonathan through so he would miss his appointment and then lying to the Count’s face about it, we Stan a man who tried
Second off, Dracula-as-Driver immediately packing all Jonathan’s things into his carriage and “helping” Jonathan in with a death grip on his arm so Jonathan knows exactly how strong he is and how easily he could crush him
And then the thing that made me extremely uneasy was Dracula offering Jonathan that wine for the road (knowing how he drugs the Brandy later for the housemaids at Lucy’s house) and then driving deliberately in circles just rubbed me all the wrong way because I know and you know and Dracula knows, that that’s so Jonathan (if he were to escape) wouldn’t know where he was and would have an even harder time fleeing from the Castle, or finding it again, and ooo I am so uncomfy just thinking about it
And I bet Dracula summoned those Wolves just to freak Jonathan out and show he has control over them when he dismissed them (that motherfucker)
Layers of subtle power imbalances and manipulations, again with the vice-grip of when Jonathan first gets to the Castle
Of deliberately keeping Jonathan up late, so he’s on Drac’s schedule and then later blaming Jonathan for being too interesting and making them talk until morning, shifting the blame to Jonathan and not the Count
It’s so odd, but the scariest things about the Count in these early chapters are not the supernatural elements of his nature, but his role as a manipulative abuser with power over his captive. It’s very unsettling how accurate and menacingly Stoker portrays it and it only becomes more oblique as the days draw on and Jonathan can no longer excuse to himself that he’s imagining things 😰
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w33nies · 7 months
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Qué Maravilla - CH.6
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Miguel O'hara x SpiderReader rating: E for Everyone bby warnings: none? lots of angst tbh summary: everyone and their momma looking for Miles. art is not mine!!!! @neonrockingvisuals !!!!
--------------- Ch.6 - No Laughing Matter----------------
Though he would never admit it, there were many things Miles Morales was afraid of growing up: snakes, lizards, ingrown toenails, identity theft, the list goes on. Within the past several hours he had been forced to confront some of the scariests worst-case scenarios he could’ve never possibly imagined. He couldn’t fathom not being able to save his father. Not only that, but have his last conversation with him be an argument. A stupid argument. Not even an ‘I love you’ or a goodbye. Miles could’ve never imagined losing not only his family but his home, in the process. He could’ve never imagined failing not only as spiderman, but as himself.
Miles was sure he had seen it all in the past several hours. That was until he found himself being kidnapped and  tightly bound to a punching bag with metal chains in a dark, undisclosed location. That was until the figure dressed in all black removed his glowing mask and sneered at him with clear contempt in his voice.  
“My name is Miles Morales, but you can call me the Prowler.” 
 Miles couldn’t see himself as anything but spiderman. He always thought that even if he was never bit then, at the worst he would just be normal. Up until now, he thought he was incapable of evil. That no matter how bad it got he would never hurt anyone. He would never resort to crime. Miles genuinely believed that he was an intrinsically good person. Foolishly, he had believed a good portion of the villainy he had fought was because the had some evil nature to them. Anyone could be good of course, but not just anyone could be bad. Right? The uncanny stare of the boy in front of him gave way to a realization that hit harder than a brick. There aren’t many things Miles would say he is currently afraid of, but just like that Miles found he had a new fear. A fear of his potential. A fear of himself
He took a deep breath in an attempt to quell his growing anxiety, “If you don’t let me go, our dad is going to die.” 
“Your dad.” 
Miles turned his head to look at Uncle Aaron, leaning against what seemed to be a workbench full of sophisticated tech. Nonchalantly nodding to the song via his vinyl record player. ‘Ain’t No Love In The Heart of the City’ by Bobby Bland filled up the entire room. It had been a while since Miles had heard his song. Uncle Aaron, his Uncle Aaron, used to play it all the time. It was his favorite song. It was a signature staple in his playlist whenever they would tag some graffiti in the middle of the night. He studied this foreign version of his Uncle. The slow absentminded sway of his head. The silent mouthing the words with his hands stuffed in his pocket. For a split second he easily fooled himself into thinking this was the same Uncle Aaron. The one that saved his life with his own. The only man in his life who supported his creative spark. But this Uncle Aaron was probably going to kill him or do god-knows-what to him. ‘Could this really be the same man?’ the boy found himself pondering. ‘We can all be good, right?’
He turned to look back at his doppelganger “What are you gonna do to me?” 
“Only the best I can,” his alternate said mockingly. 
“Please,” Miles tried his best to fight the fearful tremor in his voice, “You have to let me go.” 
“And why would I do that?” Prowler raised his fist to make a show of activating his mechanical, clawed glove. Its menacingly purple glow being one of the few sources of light in the unsettling room. He then placed his fist so close to Miles’ face that he was uncomfortably tugging at the skin on his cheek
In response to this threatening display, Miles' discreetly presses a single finger against the chain that confines him. If he could break out of a futuristic jail cell, he was more than willing to try his luck with these chains. He turned his head to avoid the Prowler’s eerie stare and found himself once again looking at Uncle Aaron, who was now fiddling with his dying lighter in an attempt to light the cigarette already in his mouth. 
“Look at me when I’m talking to you boy.”
“Don’t call me boy,” Miles' shaky breath betrays the stoic facade he’s trying to push.“I’m not your boy,” he asserted more securely this time. While he’s here he studies his counterpart’s face. He’s pretty sure they’re the same age, but something about him is different though. This version of him looks more rigid and hardened. Almost broken. There was a certain sadness to him. Not that he himself looked sad, but more so in the fact that he could tell he had it rough. This was a kid who never got to be a kid. Someone who had to grow up fast.  ‘Is this how people see me?’ He asked himself, ‘My parents, Gwen, Peter… Did they? Do they ever see me this way? Could they?” 
The sudden knee to Miles stomach causes him to lurch forward, well as much as his confines allowed him too. He’s left momentarily gasping for air as the Prowler resumes his previous stance and once again sneers in Miles’ face “Watch. Your. Mouth.”
He continued to watch Uncle Aaron through his peripheral vision. His final words replay in his mind “Keep going,” He had said with his hand firmly clasped in his as he took last shallow breaths in a dark, ruined alleyway “You’re on your way Miles. Just keep going.”  
For the first time in a while, since he had first encountered the spot, Miles began to laugh. He laughed to himself almost like a madman on the brink of a psychotic break. 
“You think I’m joking?” The Prowler frustratedly grabbed him by the collar, “You want something funny? I can be real hilarious.” 
“Sorry,” the boy giggled antagonistically, “It’s just too easy.”
Prowler cocked his head to the side, “Huh?”
“What you said earlier. When you told me to watch my mouth,” He lifted his head to face the boy in front of him, “Everybody knows the first rule of interrogation,” Miles then put on his best shit eating grin, “Don’t watch the mouth, Watch the hands.” Miles then grasps the chains with both hands and channels as much electricity as he can possibly muster. 
In the next instant a blinding seismic wave erupted throughout the building then followed by complete darkness. The record player fizzles to a stop. The T.V cuts to black. The only thing Miles can make out in the dark is the prowler's ominous, glowing mask. Soon after power flickers in and out. He swears he’s imaging it, but with each momentary blackout the mask seems to teleport closer and closer and closer until suddenly he’s right in front of him clawed hand outstretched towards his neck. Before Miles can react, the boy grabs him by the collar and flings him into the industrial pipes on the other side of the room, just barely missing the Television. Miles groans painfully upon impact, but somehow in the midst of this he once again steals a glance at Uncle Aaron who is holding his side with a pained look on his face; they both notice it at the same time, the now lit cigarette in Aaron’s mouth. Aaron puffs once to check whether or not he’s seeing things then he gives Miles a look he hadn’t seen in a while. The one where his mouth sits in a pout pushed to the side of his face and where he slightly raises his eyebrows. He didn’t say anything but Miles knew better than anyone that this was his own way of showing that he was impressed. 
Before he can engage further, Miles feels a chill down his spine accompanied by  the familiar voice in the back of his head.  ‘LOOK OUT’ it says in an urgent whisper. He whirls around and sees the Prowler once again with his talons inches away from his face. 
Miles leaps to the left just in time to see the Prowler punch the area where his head was just moments ago. He slowly stands, holding a pipe he no doubt had just ripped out of the wall. He crushing it in a fist like a piece of paper then takes another jab towards his face. Miles dodges, barely, again and again and again and again so he decides to take offense. He attempts to land a hit on him but he misses,barely, again and again and again. Even trying to handicap him with his webs proves difficult.  After what feels like ages, both boys momentarily back away from each other, clearly out of breath. ‘I can’t keep going on like this,’ Miles said to himself, ‘Something’s gotta give.’
 Miles regains his composure then shoots a web into the ceiling, using the momentum to launch him in the air above his clone.  However before he lands, he activates his invisibility. Leaving Prowler stunned as he looks around wildly for the boy he just had his eye on. Punch after punch, and kick after kick coming in from all directions. He attempts to move from the onslaught but finds his feet don’t move. When he looks down he finds his feet webbed stuck to the floor.  
 Annoyed, he reaches into his jacket and holds onto the new gadget he an Uncle Aaron had just developed this past week. He didn’t need a bullseye, he just had to mark him.   
As he heard the whizzing of his opponent flying through the air, he discreetly pulled the pin on his makeshift grenade then threw two paint bombs in the direction of the incoming assault. A small amount of neon green paint stains the silhouette of Miles' ankle. Not wasting any time, the Prowler swiftly grabs his leg and swings him over his head and slamming him into the ground. The harsh impact has Mile’s figure phasing in and out of visibility.  Prowler grabs his chest, lifts him about a  foot off the ground, and then slams him again into the floor. The ringing in Mile’s ear is constant. Prowler picks him up again slowly by the throat.
He grins to himself, “Too easy.”
 “Stop messing around man, security switches at 6:00.” Aaron takes a pause to take a puff of his cigarette. “Wrap it up, then haul your ass to the lab. ” 
Prowler brings up his claw fully about to clobber him, Miles is racking his brain for ideas. 
“Wait.” Miles struggles to talk, “ You ever hear of the shoulder touch?”
“Huh?” Prowler is thrown off. Then he chuckles softly, “Shoulder touch? Man, I might've knocked you too hard.” 
Undeterred, Miles puts his hand on his shoulder and does his best to give a smolder given the position he’s in. Let out a strained, “Hey.” and then zaps the Prowler. 
A tiny small shock though is all he can muster given the current state he’s in. Luckily, it’s enough to immobilize Prowler's equipment. The Prowler smacks on his glove frustratedly. Sparks flying with each subsequent hit he directs towards it. Wasting no time, Miles lays an uppercut and a left hook to his jaw, finishing a jab straight to his abdomen. Prowler stumbles backward. Miles uses this moment to non threateningly raise his palms in the air, “I don’t want to fight you man,” he struggles to project his voice while gasping for air, “ I just want to go home.”
Prowler finally regains control of his glove. He takes a fighting stance, but then suddenly begins to lower his guard. “You call yourself Spider boy right?” 
“Spiderman.” 
“Cool, listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” 
“Really.” Miles responds unamused, “You only just tried to kill me back there.” 
“People change,” The prowler retracted his mask showing a smug grin, “More importantly, I think we can help eachother out here.”
“How?” 
“You say you’re from another dimension right? Tell me how you got here.” 
“It’s a long story. There was this ‘go home’ machine. It was supposed to send me home but it sent me here by mistake.”
“The ‘Go Home’ machine…” Prowler shoots Uncle Aaron an amused glance before proceeding, “That sounds….stupid. Y’all don't have a collider?”
“Well I did have one but I wasn’t in my dimension I was- Wait…. Wait,wait,wait, wait, wait,” Miles paused, “You know about colliders?”
“Yep. There's one right here, in Brooklyn.”
“Where is it? Please. I need it to get home.” 
“Do you one better. I’ll take you there myself.” He examined his mechanical hand as if he was picking imaginary dirt from its claw , " Of course, you’ll have to do something for me...” 
“….What is it?”“
“Your little zappy-hands shit you did a second ago…,” he says vaguely gesturing to his person, “...What else can it do?”
Miles relaxes a little and starts counting off its capabilities on his fingers “Um, well, break chains? But you already saw that. I can charge my phone, jump start a car. Oh I broke this futuristic, holographic force field several hours ago. It’s a long story actually-”
“-Cool.” The prowler cuts him off, “That'll work.” 
“What’ll work? What are you saying? What am I doing?” 
Prowler looks at Uncle Aaron, who gives him an approving nod. Then the Prowler  makes his way over to the work bench and starts tinkering with his damaged gear, “I got a hit on a guy. He's a freelance scientist working for Alchemex in charge of some prototype for an inter-dimensional collider, name’s Jonathon Ohnn. ”
Miles feels his stomach drop, “A hit? You're a hitman?”
“I’d say I’m more of a… persistent negotiator," he spoke nonchalantly, “I just get results by any means necessary.”
“Jonathon….’ Miles thinks hard to himself. The name sounded familiar, he just wasn’t sure why.  “You’re gonna kill him? Why?”
Prowler rolled his eyes with a groan,  “Ay dios mío. It 's my job cabrón. But, If you can get me what I need I won’t have to.” He reequips his claw and walks towards Miles, slowly circling him like a vulture, “My…let’s just say boss, wants his research and Ohnn is a bit stubborn. Won't give up the rights to the collider. Won’t even sell it. Couple of nasty back and forths later and now he’s locked himself in his lab with some projected barrier. Nobody can get in or out…So, our deal is simple,” He directs a clawed finger to Miles" “You break the barrier, you get the collider,” puts his palm to his chest with a slight bow, “I get the guy.” He extends his hands for Miles to shake, “Do we have a deal?”
Miles looks at the outstretched hand, then to uncle Aaron, then to the boy in front of him again. “I’m not gonna help you kill an innocent person.” Just then Miles violently glitches. This one leaves him reeling on the floor, holding his sides in pain. 
“Never said I was gonna kill him, but from the looks of it, cabrón,” he took a step forward and leaned down to meet his face.“You don’t really have a choice, do you? You don’t know where the lab is pendejo and from the looks of it,” he leans in even closer to whisper in his ear “you don’t have much time.”
Miles chews his lip while lost in thought, but eventually sighs, “You torture or kill or hurt this guy in any way, I’m out. Okay?” 
Prowler once again puts his hand out for him to shake, “You have my word spider boy.” 
“Spiderman.” Miles reluctantly shakes his hand , “It’s spiderman.” 
“Whatever man.” Prowler's mask goes up “Just try to keep up.” Then he takes off. Miles looks at Uncle Aaron. Aaron gives him a nod which he returns, then Miles goes after him. 
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imtooscaredforthis · 10 months
Text
So Two Murderers Walk Into A Room…
Chapter Six: Manic
Mentions of: Mental instability, Murder, Homicidal Tendencies, NSFW Content (f!masturbation), slight gore, etc.
Tags: @dead-bxxxtch-walking @mama-miya @vandeaad @moonshineinasippycup @stwbwwychan
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Lately, you’ve been really embracing your sadistic side a lot more often. Maybe it was because of what Ghostface said, or maybe it was the fact that there was nothing stopping you. You didn’t know. All you knew was that it felt great.
It didn’t take long for you to start having favorites. Kate, Jane, Jeff, Yui, Felix, Jill, Leon, Carlos, Chris, and now, you’ve just added Yun-jin to your list.
You smirked as you gazed up at her hanging form. She was pretty, had a great body, and you loved her style. “I absolutely love your boots. They’re so cute.”
She let out a pained groan in response, and after another moment or two of watching her dangle from the hook, you continued on with the trial.
Since you were in a trial, and Ghostface had nothing better to do, he decided to wander over to the campfire. He was curious on what the topic of discussion would be. Would it be about the killers, about themselves, about him…or about you? He listened closely, watching the group closest to the campfire.
“It’s scary how..normal she seemed. If she didn’t chase after me, I wouldn’t have known that she was a killer.” Leon said.
“Yeah, I mean..it’s a shame such a pretty thing like her has to be a killer.” Ace remarked, nudging Bill, who rolled his eyes at him. Danny quietly scoffed to himself in amusement.
“And even the other killers were changed to look more intimidating, and the ones who don’t already look creepy as is. But ______, she’s a complete psychopath, and I guess that’s the scariest thing about her.” Adam stated.
“Not to mention that she acts all nice before she stabs you. It’s weird.” Kate added.
Ghostface was right. You were the survivor’s latest gossip, and you had just scared the shit out of them by being yourself. It was impressive, and he had to admit, he was starting to like you more and more.
You giggled as he began to pull down your dress, smiling at him in excitement. Sure, the sex was going to be fun, but you had something much even better planned.
“You promise to take good care of me, Officer?” You asked, now naked on top of him, grinding your soaked slit against his tip. He smirked in response, letting out a small groan. “Trust me babe. You’re in good hands.”
The sex was average, with him trying to thrust into you hard, pushing your hips up and down on his cock. It wasn’t surprising for a misogynistic narcissist like him chasing after his own pleasure. You couldn’t help but wonder how many poor women have had to fake an orgasm for him just to stroke his already massive ego.
You reached down and rubbed at your clit, giving yourself some sort of stimulation, causing you to clench down on him. He was throbbing inside you, and you could tell from the noises and faces he made that he was getting close. You should do it..now.
You reached behind the couch, pulling out your favorite pretty dagger and slitting his throat, just as he climaxed. You moaned as you watched his body writhe, the blood splattering everywhere.
The feeling of him dying underneath you was purely orgasmic, along with seeing him realize that he had no control of the situation at all and realizing what was truly happening. Watching him choke on his blood…it pushed you over the edge.
It’s your favorite thing to think about. One of your favorite memories, and definitely your favorite kill. It was always great masturbation material, the thought of it getting you off easily.
Even now, it helped, as you lied in bed in a completely different dimension of fucked up shit and stress, it helped you a lot. You moaned softly, rubbing faster at your clit, getting closer and closer, while you thought about it. The blood, the power, the feelings…watching that knife slice oh so perfectly through his throat-
Suddenly, the bell at the Bakery door rang, making you freeze. There was only one person who knew where your realm was, and who’d be willing to bother you like this.
“Honey, I’m home!” You couldn’t have one god damn moment of peace, could you? With an irritated huff, you pulled your hand out of your shorts, and shifted the straps of your tank top over your shoulders.
Ghostface went to your bedroom door, and you opened it just as he reached the knob. You frowned at him. “Isn’t there someone else you can bother? Go play with a survivor or something. Go to a trial.”
“Oof, someone’s grumpy.” He teased. “What’s the matter? I thought you liked my little check ins.”
The matter is that I just had to fucking edge myself no thanks to you, asshole. You thought to yourself, but you knew better than to say it. He probably would’ve enjoyed it, that sadistic perverted asshole.
“When have I ever said that?” You remarked with a frown.
Maybe you should just kill him, and get off on that. No..he’d probably see it coming. Not to mention he wouldn’t actually die, since no one ever dies here, and you’d never hear the end of it. And he wasn’t your type.
But it would be satisfying to pull his mask off and see that shit eating grin disappear off of his face, just like you did all those years ago. You squeezed your thighs together at the thought, smirking to yourself.
“What’re you smiling about?” He asked, noticing your change in expression. “Nothing.”
You replied, walking past him and out to the kitchen. “You were thinking about killing someone, weren’t you?”
“What does it matter if I was? I’m sure you’re thinking about killing people all the time.” You replied, grabbing some flour and trying to busy yourself.
“Yeah but I want to see what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. I want to know what makes those gears turn.” He stood beside you, leaning against the counter.
“Or maybe you could keep your thoughts to yourself and mind your business.” You told him as you grabbed other ingredients. “Have you actually baked anything, or do you just mess around with this stuff to ignore me?”
“Well clearly, it isn’t working and yeah, I have been working on some things, I just haven’t had time to finish them.” You answered.
“Good luck with that. It’s hard to find anything around here, especially not cooking ingredients.” He said. “I can be very persistent. I’ll find ingredients, and I’ll bake whatever I want.”
You leaned over the counter, so your face was close to his mask. You could almost see his eyes through the mesh with how close you were standing.
“We’ll see about that.” He replied, before moving away from the counter. “You lucked out. I have to go to a trial. To be continued.”
“Feel free to not come back!” You called back to him with a grin, shaking your head.
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bicycle4two · 1 year
Text
fine as we are, but we want more || Jason Todd x Female!Reader || Chapter 7 of 8
Summary:
all things considered, you’re pretty lucky.
in all your years living in gotham city, you’ve never been mugged, never had your apartment broken into, never been held as a hostage.
until now.
it seems your luck has run out and there’s nothing you can do about it other than wait for someone to come rescue you…
or, jason and you reunite after a long time.
Read on AO3
...
Chapter 6
...
Chapter 7:
In what feels like a lifetime ago, Robin once asked you if you were afraid of heights. And you, young and looking for adventure outside the story books you read in between classes, you said you weren’t so without a second to lose, a second to doubt yourself, he whisked you into Gotham’s night sky and with the cold wind biting your cheeks and whipping your hair into your face, you never felt more alive, most invincible in that moment.
Now, now you’re experiencing the same thing only you’re absolutely terrified. The cold is numbing, and the hair not stuck to your face with sweat flies into your face obscuring what little view you have. You want to push it back, tie it away, but you can’t because your hands are weighed down and strapped together by a bomb. It’s heavy metal chafing the skin of your wrists and you’re sure your once healed hand has taken a turn for the worse. The pain pulsing, coursing through your body every time you jostle it.
At least the sick feeling is gone, and you find that you can think clearly now. But you sort of wish that you were still in a daze because being one hundred percent aware of the kind of situation you’re in isn’t exactly keeping you calm.
You’d scream if you thought anyone would hear you.
But you doubt anyone’s remotely close to the roof of Wayne Tower. You think that the security guards assigned to patrol the area, to go up and down the higher floors, have been dealt with. And you have no choice but to wait for one of the vigilantes to find you, to save you.
And no matter how much you want to get out of here, to go back to your apartment, you hope that no one comes. Because it’s so obviously a trap and you don’t want them to fall victim to it, to get hurt.
Gotham’s night sky once brought you comfort but now with you unable to see anything past the edge of the tower, you feel more alone than ever, trapped. But the scariest thing is that you aren’t. Because the people who stole you, who drugged you and dragged you here, are hiding in the shadows, waiting.
Maybe it’s because you’re so attuned with your surroundings, twitching at every little noise, the howl of the wind, the distant whine of sirens, the bat diving through the sky, that you notice that you’re no longer alone. The soft yet heavy thud immediately lets you know who’s there and you feel your shoulders sag with relief before worry takes over, tensing you up all over again.
“Angel,” he whispers, coming into view, the glowing eyes of his helmet strangely comforting to see. Maybe it’s because you can picture what he looks like underneath it all, the way his blue eyes soften when he looks at you, the small, reassuring smile on his lips.
“You gotta get out of here,” you breathe out before he can say anything else. Because you can’t do much in your situation, but you can save him, maybe, warn him at least. “You have to go.”
“I’m not leaving you here,” he says, his tone no nonsense, already working on the bomb around your wrists, maneuvering it in a way that lets him get a better look without hurting you further. Your heart’s hammering against your chest like it’s trying to break free again, only this time it’s not going to fly towards Jason, it’s going to jump off the roof before the bomb blows.
“It’s a trap.”
“I figured.” And the bomb comes off just like that. And you sort of flabbergasted by how easily he’s disarmed it, freeing you. You’d think for how scared you were, are, it would take longer. “They targeted those close to us.”
“They? Who’s they?”
But Jason doesn’t get the chance to answer. Because they show up. The people who took you. And now that you can see things clearly, the threat of the bomb no longer taking over your thoughts, you see that these people are…
“Since when did Gotham have ninjas?”
“No time to explain.”
Jason already has his guns out, shooting at one of the ninjas before they disappear in a cloud of black smoke. You take a step closer to Jason out of reflex but from the corner of your eye you see another ninja—or was this the same one?—appear in another cloud, aiming at the two of you. You see the fire before Jason grabs you and forces the two of you to the ground to avoid it. The fire zips passed where you were just standing and you’re helpless, you’re so helpless. You’re a liability. You could get Jason distracted, hurt.
“Don’t mind me. I’ll be fine,” you say in a rush, getting back to your feet. Jason isn’t looking at you, his attention on the open space, trying to guess where they’re going to pop up next. “Just deal with them.”
“Stay close, but out of the way.” Jason orders just when you felt like you found an opening to run away, to hide. “They’re going to want to hurt you.”
And you’re confused. Because you’re sure that you were just there to lure him into their trap, that he’s the one they’re after. But something tells you that there’s more to this and that there’s going to be time to talk about it later. So, you follow his lead, dodge when he does, trying your best to avoid getting sliced by the ninjas’ swords or getting shot at by accident, or being in line of their—
“Is that a freaking rocket launcher?”
There’s time to regret bringing a civilian into his life later. There’s time to brood over the fact that it’s his fault that she’s in this situation, that she wouldn’t be hurt, wouldn’t be at risk if he just stayed away. He can feel like shit after. He can agonize over the decision of whether he should just let her go, let her live her life in peace without him after. After he shoots these ninjas in the face, after he knocks them off their feet with a particularly strong punch, a kick, pistol whip.
He takes two down at once after a barrage of bullets and he reloads his guns in the next second, twisting around when he feels another ninja appear behind them. He twists and he’s lucky that she can read him, is attuned with what’s happening around them, of who’s popping in and out of the air because she ducks. The action surprises the League member and Jason takes this chance to deliver a swift punch, sending them flying. While they’re grounded, he aims at their head and shoots.
“Behind you!” She calls and Jason follows her warning, turning just in time to sucker punch the assassin charging towards him. He jumps back when a new one leaps out of a cloud of smoke and suddenly, he’s distanced from her. He dodges two hits before getting a couple of his own shots in. His attacker is immobile for the moment and suddenly Jason can’t find her. He scans the area, panic starting to rise when he hears a war cry before a satisfying thwack.
She’s somehow managed to find a mop on this godforsaken roof and used it to nail an assassin on the back of their head. Jason moves to help her, grabbing the assassin and hauling them over his shoulder before slamming them to the ground, kicking their head in for good measure.
“Where the heck did you find that?” he asks in between shots and punches and she’s holding her own, miraculously, using her newfound weapon to keep the assassins away as if they were some sort of pest she wants out of her front lawn. She doesn’t get another hit in, at least not as gratifying as her first one, but she manages to defend herself at least.
This is a mess. This is chaos. This is so much harder than what the others had to go through rescuing Thompkins, Fox, and Montoya. Because she can’t hide inside a truck, nor does she have a fancy force field or the training to fight back. There’s only so much she could do with a mop, no matter how sturdy it seems to be. They’re out in the open and one wrong move, one hit and she’s gone.
And Jason lets that fear drive him to fight harder, to aim better, to hit with all his brute strength. Because he can’t let her get hurt even more, can’t lose her.
The assassin with the rocket launcher is tricky, deadly, but thankfully slow, too. Despite the size of the person holding it, they can’t keep their aim on them, shooting only when they think they have them in their line. And Jason’s smarter than them, knows how these things work, is an expert, so he’s able to get them out of the way in time. She’s going to come out of this with more scratches and bruises than she’s ever had in her life, maybe a little singed, will definitely be sore, probably would have a newfound fear of heights and ninjas, too, but she’ll be alive. Jason will make sure of it.
“They just keep coming,” she rasps out, moving out of the way once more, narrowly avoiding a sword to her shoulder, and Jason hits so much harder because of that. He grabs the attacker by the scruff of their neck before punching them upwards and then kicking them away. Another one appears almost immediately, and Jason’s bullets freeze them in their place, allowing him to deliver blow after blow to their stomach, knocking them out.
He gets into a rhythm, finally being able to predict their moves. Figured out that he shouldn’t rush, that these assassins are just going to keep going after him. So, he waits, waits for them to come out of their smoke cloud before he shoots, before he hits, and they start dropping like flies. Even the one with the rocket launcher isn’t a match for him. It takes a few hard hits to their chest before Jason’s able to grab them, wrap his hands around their neck to hold them in place before he shoots them in their foot and throws them to the ground headfirst.
And it really is a miracle that she’s stayed out of harm’s way for the most part. Her pants are torn from falling to the ground to avoid shots and swords, and there’s blood dripping down her arm from a narrowly missed strike. But she doesn’t slow even though her breathing’s heavy, obviously exhausted, Jason can see it in her eyes that she’s alert, eyes twitching from left to right, waiting for their next move, too.
“Move!” Jason hollers when he sees the smoke behind her and she doesn’t hesitate, she dives away from his line of sight, away from where his gun’s aiming, and he shoots once he has a clear view of the assassin.
It takes two shots to make the assassin stumble back, resilient assholes, and Jason starts running, jumping just in time to land both his feet on their chest, knocking them over. Then he shoots them a few more times for good measure.
Jason doesn’t even have time to take a breath, to feel the rush of a good hit, because he hears her scream, the clatter of her mop hitting the floor, and he sees that they got her. He should have known that not only was it him protecting her this whole time, but it was also luck. She was lucky to have made it this far and he’s scared. He’s scared that her luck has run out.
Because now, now the only thing that’s keeping her from falling off Wayne Tower’s railing is her balance. Her captor stands confident, one hand keeping her in place while the other holds their katana to her neck. One wrong move— too much pressure from their blade, a miscalculated shot, a sneeze, a strong gust of wind—and she falls.
And Jason doesn’t think he can risk that.
This ninja is the last one. You’re sure of it. Because they and Jason have been staring at each other for a good minute and if there were others, they would have come out by now, would have snuck up on him while he’s distracted.
And despite everything, the abduction, the fight, this moment, your life in the hands of this ninja, you feel relieved. It’s almost over. One way or another, this is all going to end.
So, you tell your heart to take it easy, force your hands and legs to stop shaking, and you harden your face, brows furrowed, and lips turned down. Panicking isn’t going to make things go faster, at least not in your favor. You force calm through your veins, try to find some confidence in yourself because what you’re about to do is crazy and there’s no room for doubt, for second guessing.
Jason sees the shift in you and although his helmet gives nothing away, you know he’s looking at you. That he’s focused on you now, trying to figure you out. And you try to channel your thoughts to him, hope that some cosmic power would let him know that you’re okay. That everything is going to be okay.
Because although you’re not a hero, you’re going to make damn sure that this isn’t going to be the end for him.
“Red!” You call out, voice weak despite your efforts to remain strong. And you know he hears it, hears the fear in your tone, sees it behind the mask you’ve put on, and you don’t care.
Because he sees you. He’s always seen you, has been able to read you from day one, and it’s because of this, because you trust him, because you love him, because you know that he’ll never let anything hurt you, that you grin. Because although you aren’t sure of this, aren’t sure of anything, you at least know deep in your heart that you can be sure of Jason Todd.
“Don’t miss.”
“Don’t miss.”
Everything happens quickly, too fast for Jason to even think, so he relies on his instincts because he knows that every fiber of his being wants nothing more than to make sure that she’ll make it out of this alive.
Because it’s something out of a nightmare, what she does, something that would for sure cause him to wake up screaming. And he feels like screaming now, too. But he holds it in, just barely. He knew that she was going to do something crazy, something insanely stupid, because he knows her, he knows her, but he can’t believe her. Believe that out of everything that could have happened, that she could have done, she does this.
But what’s done is done, and Jason has no choice but to react.
Because when she elbows her captor in the ribs, catching them by surprise because no one in or out of their right mind would have done that, and falls off the building as a result, Jason immediately shoots. He shoots the assassin square in the face and starts running. And because he’s pissed beyond belief, and a little scared that maybe his shot didn’t work, he grabs the scruff of their neck and slams them against the very railing they were standing on. Hard enough to knock them out completely, probably much worse, but Jason doesn’t care.
He has other things to do, like leap off Wayne Tower and pray that he gets to her in time.
...
Chapter 8
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Welcome to the what if series! Something I’m trying out! I also believe @themonotonysyndrome is also doing! Where we take scenarios that aren’t in the storyline of the series ‘Arranged Marriage Series’ and write ‘What if!’ If you saw my poll and voted then you know that thee scenario ‘What if the servant didn’t give the baroness a choice and took her back to the Empire’ if you still want to vote on something you can scroll through my page and fine the poll on what type of content you want to see in chapter three of my fanfic ‘Against the world around us’
@neptune-cinths
‘What if the servant took the baroness back to the empire’
Omorose’s POV
It’s almost been a week since the rebels took the palace and trapping us in the throne room ever since. Being trapped in a room no matter how big it is with a bunch snooty Imperial nobles and servants who all turned out to be rebels or quickly converted leaving me to be the only one in the room not apart of their rebellion. It left my mind racing on what they were and weren’t willing to do in order to win in their insurrection. Killing? I know Ellis was more than willing after he impaled a soldier with a dagger. No hesitation, no regret, no sympathy in his eyes and that’s the scariest part. He was once a guy that got so flustered when Castin joked and teased him and now from what I can tell he was either the leader or one of the masterminds behind this COUP. Castin did tell me that the rebel group he had to deal with for those three months wanted them dead and I know that King Rhett and Aurelia was dealing with a very serious matter in the Empire’s capital it only leads me to believe that this war is far from over and in the middle of it I’m going to be forced to pick a side when all I want is peace between the two.
“Baroness! I made you some tea to calm your nerves.” Ellis set the cup down with a smile. Ever since he told me how he really felt about everything including my marriage I couldn’t look at him the same. Though he said that he recently joined the revolt which I find it hard to believe.
Deep down I understand why they want to revolt! They preferred the way things were before Rhett became the Emperor of the Coastal Empire. They were comfortable in that way of life not being surrounded by Intacians who treated them lowly. Refusing to service imperials and having to pay half of their wages just to pay Intacian servants and warriors to get them things from the town because they couldn’t go out of fear! None of the Imperial Servants had nothing to do with the war! They had no part of it! Those that did were either put in prison, placed in the Intacian army, or was like Anri getting set up with someone to marry. Their hate and disdain was aimed at the wrong people but they were to blinded by their hatred.
“Baroness…please you need to settle your nerves! The stress isn’t good for you.”
“Ellis, nothing is going to settle my nerves! I’m in the middle of a rebellion, what could be the start of another war!”
“We are finishing the war! Baroness you’re choosing the wrong side.”
“I’m not picking anyone’s side! I can’t!”
Ellis signed placing the cup of tea down.
The frown on his face and the look in his eyes showed disappointment. “Picking no sides could still make you an enemy of the Empire’s and you know what the Empire does to its enemies.”
Death.
The answer to most of the Empire’s problems. Though they never resulted to killing a noble. We were to valuable to kill off so easily especially if their was no heir to our title.
“They wouldn’t kill me over this.” I told him tapping the table eyeing the steam floating away from the cup.
“Perhaps not but do you really want to be thrown in prison until they found someone who they believe can ‘steer’ you into the right direction? Or would you like to have your free will? You were already married off to a rake Baroness! Don’t make your life worse than it already is.”
“Ellis you think you know how the Empire works but you have no clue.”
“When we win you’ll be seen as a traitor!”
“If you win I will still be seen as a high ranking woman of the Empire! Who would the Empire believe? Their beloved Baroness from one of the most respected families or a servant who crosses boundaries and have no respect for their Baroness?” I spat. I studied his face watching as the frown turn into a smirk, the expression making me glare in anger.
“Spoken like a true Imperial.”
Pushing the cup of tea towards me “Drink it! I’ll bring you a snack soon…dinner will be served in a few hours.”
Picking up the cup I sighed into it allowing the steam to wash over my face before blowing it away and taking a sip.
“Commander! Commander!” A soldier rushed into Castin’s tent where him and Rhett were in a heated discussion.
“What is it, soldier?”
“The scout! They sent word that they moved the Baroness!”
Castin felt his heart stop and his blood run cold. “Wh-what?!” His voice cracked at the news.
“They are moving her. The scout believes they might attempt to move her out of the city.” The soldier reiterated.
Castin turned towards Rhett panic in his eyes. Rhett never saw Castin in such a state since he lost his mother. The tired strung out man looked so fragile like thin glass ready to break.
“Castin! Breath!” Rhett reminded placing his heavy hands on the younger man’s shoulders, shaking him slightly trying to get him to take a breath.
“Breath brother, breath!” Rhett stressed.
Castin’s head snapped to the left as a harsh sting settled on his skin. Gasping Castin looked like a fish out of water.
“They- Rhett I have to go!”
“You need to calm down!”
“They are going to take Omorose! I can’t- I can’t let them-”
Castin erratically moved around putting on his armor and grabbing his weapons.
Rhett watched on hoping Castin would tire himself out enough to actually listen to him.
Castin stumbled over himself trying to keep the tears at bay as he thought of the worst things that could possibly happen.
‘If the rebels succeed then what will they do with her? Throw her in prison? Hurt her? They could they could…’ his mind wondered down a dark path eating at his weaken health.
“CASTIN!” Rhett called out following Castin out of the tent
“Not now Rhett!”
“CASTIN!”
Soldiers moved swiftly dunking and dodging, climbing over the gates and making their way into the palace quietly, as the rebels moved quickly moving an unconscious Omorose towards the secret tunnel to sneak her out.
“They are taking the Baroness out of here tonight so be ready in case we have to be on defense.” Castin over hears a rebel soldier order another.
“I thought the Baroness refused to leave?”
“There’s been a change of plans. She doesn’t have a choice now.”
“Commander what do you want us to do?”
Castin thought for a moment for the best outcome
“We need to figure out where exactly they are sneaking Omorose out and before captain Dolian gives Rhett the all clear to storm in.”
The small group continued to covertly moved through the palace witnessing Imperial rebels freely walk the palace as if it were a regular day for them.
“Those imperial jackasses!” One of Castin’s soldiers hissed.
“Quite!” Castin hissed.
Two ascendants rounded the corner passing by the small group who took cover.
“Such beauty, tainted by Intacian filth!”
“It’s a good thing they are taking the Baroness out of here now.”
Castin wanted to demand where his wife was but he knew it was stupid blindly going into a fight with ascendants. So he bit his tongue watching them walk away before turning to his group.
“All the exits are being watched! There’s no way they are taking the Baroness out of here without getting caught by troops.”
“I know soldier…but don’t underestimate your enemy, you’ll fail everytime you do.”
Up on a highest tower of the palace Captain Dolian lit a torched alerting Rhett as soon as he could…
Just like Rhett ordered him too.
An order that quickly crumbled Castin’s plan to safely get to his wife. The palace erupted in chaos.
“Intacians are in the palace!” A hysterical cry sounded just as the loud bells did.
“Damn it!” Castin cursed moving from his spot without a second thought to the small group of his soldiers.
Ellis pushed his fellow rebel men towards the entrance. “Go! Now before they catch you-”
“What about you-”
“Don’t worry about me! You guys go now! Make sure she’s delivered to our fort in the Empire.”
The rebel group quickly made their way through the secret tunnels that was long forgotten under the palace. One they worked hard to clear before they started their rebellion in the Intacian capital.
Ellis watched them go before insuring that the entrance was covered.
“You two go to the bell tower and be the look outs! If anyone is rushing out of here ring the bell! You! Go inform Rhett they are taking Omorose out now! Hurry!” Castin ordered leaving the group before the last words left his mouth.
Castin moved through the palace searching for any signs of where they could possibly sneak Omorose out.
Slithering around Ellis sought out Castin knowing that as the commander and Omorose’s husband he had to be in the palace.
Ellis could hear the commander babbling to himself like a scared child who lost their mommy in the market. “How pathetic” he mumbled rolling his eyes.
A sharp blade cut through Ellis’s flesh as he bit his bottom lip to hush himself as he self inflicted a wound. Tossing the weapons aside he began to stumble around pretending to be more injured than he is.
“LORD CAS- I MEAN COMMANDER! Castin! I tried to protect her-”
“Where is she!” Castin demanded catching a dramatic Ellis in his arms
“I over heard them say that they are taking the southwest road…”
“Southwest?”
“Yes! They know that by now Intacian soldiers will be on the east roads since that is the road that heads towards the coastal Empire!”
“There’s troops in all roads!”
“Thank the goddess! They won’t make it far with here then-”
“Where did they leave out? Which door?”
“I believe there was a secret entrance they were going on about in the kings study!”
Believing him Castin left him rushing off in that direction.
Ellis smirked wickedly watching as Castin went into the wrong direction his wife was in.
“Commander of the army but yet doesn’t know when his enemy is looking him in the eye!” He snickered to himself making his way to the secret tunnel.
The rebel group managed to get miles away from the palace thanks to the miles long tunnel that ran under the palace grounds and opened into the thick forest.
By the time Castin realized he was lied to Ellis was gone and the rebels they caught refused to talk. Even after Castin beat the most confident one.
“How did they manage to get out?!” He demanded going in for another punch. The rebels face was gnarly. Bloody, bruised and starting to swell.
“Castin! Stop!” Rhett ordered harshly holding Castin back.
“Commander, king Rhett, we found a tunnel under the palace! We think the rebels left through there!”
“They took her through the tunnels. Didn’t they?” Castin asked but, the servant refused to answer smirking up at Castin instead. Blood tricking down his slightly parted lips.
“The commander is speaking to you. It’s best if you answered him.” Captain Dolian chimed in loving the facts that an imperial kneeled in front of him bloody and ugly.
“Where are they taking her? Where are they taking my wife?”
“You think I would tell you, Dross?” The rebel spat groaning in pain.
“What did you just call hi-”
“I’m far from wanting to continue playing this game of interrogation where you try to continue to play the tough guy until I finally kill you! Tell me where…where are they taking my wife?”
The rebel stayed quiet glaring up at Castin.
Castin felt the last ounce of patience leave his body.
“Alright…fine.”
Castin lunges out of Rhett’s grasps towards the rebel knocking the beaten man on to his back, Castin’s hands wrapping his large hands around the man’s throat.
“Stop! They couldn’t have gotten away! We can go after them!”Rhett pried Castin off before he could finish the man off.
“I ca-I can’t lose her, Rhett!”
Everyone watched as the famous Intacian warrior swayed weakly the lack of sleep and hunger finally getting to him. He fell defeated by his lack of self care into the ground.
“Someone get a medic! NOW!”
The forest was dark and cold by the time Omorose awoken in the make shift camp. Her head still dizzy from the drugged tea she drunk. Her blurred eyes looked around panicked.
“You’re finally wake. I made the tea stronger than I was supposed too.”
“What did you do?” Cried Omorose rubbing her eyes trying to regain her sight.
“I respectfully made the choice for you.”
“Respectfully? You drugged me!” Omorose hissed pissed off that she was forcefully taken out of the palace.
“For your own good! What would it look like to the rest of the Empire if you stayed willingly with the enemy Baroness! You already was forced to to marry one.”
“I wasn’t forced.”
“The Empire doesn’t see it that way!”
Castin woke up, head pounding from dehydration and hunger in his room in the palace. He sat up despite feeling so shitty. He groaned holding his head and cursing.
“Good you’re awake! Eat up before you kill yourself.” Rhett said motioning to the tray of food and water on the bedside table.
“Rhett I have to go-”
“You need to eat!” Rhett stressed pushing Castin back on the bed when Castin tried getting up to quickly.
“Did you at least send a troop after the rebels?”
Rhett sighed knowing that he had to break the news and potentially send Castin into another panic attack.
“I ordered them not to go after them. Securing our borders is way more important right now! We have to stop any other potential rebellion”
The room was silent as Castin sat there processing Rhett’s words.
“Are you seri- Rhett she is the most important person in my life. The most important thing to me…if you’re refusing to help I’ll go alone… brother.” Castin spat out the last word as if it was a vile substance in his mouth. Rhett pressured him to make an effort to get to know Omorose, he did and he fell in love, told him to drop the ‘manly Intacian act’ he did and omorose grew to love him back and now… now it felt like Rhett was telling him to do the impossible.
Omorose stared at the large fortress walls bitterly watching it grow larger as she was forcefully lead towards it. The old imperial flag greeted her as the gates opened.
“You will remain here until it’s safe to have you back in your regular imperial scene.”
“Do you honestly think that Castin won’t come after me?”
Ellis nodded before saying “Do you think We won’t kill him without Hesitation?”
Part 2 coming soon😈
It’s currently 1:56 am where I’m posting this. My mind won’t allow me to type more and if you’re reading this before I post part two I like leaving people in suspense sometimes🙃
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angelicyoongie · 2 years
Note
THIS CHAPTER WAS CHEF'S KISS! You're an amazing author and your writing is so compelling! I love yandere BTS stories and in each story I tend to rate the characters based on the level of danger they represent as yandere 👀
So far, this is what I'm getting from the boys in Lovesick (Vlll) as MTL dangerous:
Taehyung  5/5  redflags 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩
Oooof, I find Tae to be  the scariest and most aggressive! I don't think he would physically hurt Yn. However, I assume that he wouldn't be above mentally terrorizing Yn to make her stop considering leaving them? I noticed how easily frustrated he gets when YN rejects them and I think that's the scariest side of him.
Out of all of them, he also seems to be the one that Yn won't be able to fool. Yup, I think Tae is  that type of yandere and I'm excited to see more of him 👀
Hoseok 5/5 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩
Not only Hobi drugged Ynie, apparently, he would also kill anyone for her just to keep her safe?
I assume that Hobi is the type of yandere that doesn't always think things through and tends to take the rashiest decisions under tense circumstances (is this the reason why he ended up drugging her?)
But unlike Tae, Hobi is one of the most delusional in the group and would be tricked by Yn if she manages to convince him that she loves them? I dunno but he's giving me that vibe.
Jimin 4/5 🚩🚩🚩🚩
Just like Tae, I'm pretty sure that Jimin won't be easily tricked by Yn's facade 'cause he's an officer and can probably see right through her lies. Unless she really gets on his good side and gain his trust, I highly doubt that she'll be able to fool him.
Is Jimin the most perverted in the group? I have a feeling that he would spy on her during her intimate times 👀 I still can't get over THAT ONE gift he gave her lmao
The only reason why I'm putting him in the TOP 3 most dangerous is because he and Tae would make one scary duo.
Yoongi 3/5 🚩🚩🚩
Yoon is giving me "quiet and obsessive stalker" that is satisfied with just hovering around Yn for the time being.
He knows that she hates them, he's aware and will take things slow with her.
Yoon and Joon are probably the most manipulative ones? I think he would lie to her and change narratives to make the situation seem less terrible than it actually is. Yoon is calmer and more put together than Namu tho.
The way Yoon lied about being an accountant and planned that encounter with her at the park (along with Tae) was what convinced me that he's very manipulative.
Namjoon 3/5 🚩🚩🚩
I think Namu is the manipulative, delusional AND controlling type of yandere. Very, very controlling to the point of making Yn feel constantly frustrated. The way he said that he would take care of everything until she feels better made me wonder if he'll take her to go see the doctor? 👀
He also can't help himself and wants to hover around her all the time.
Jin 2/5 🚩🚩
Jin doesn't seem to be as dangerous as the others so far but I could be very, veeeery wrong. He's the delusional type of yandere and the easiest to trick because of that, I guess?
I have a feeling that Ynie wouldn't have a hard time to gain his trust.
Unlike Jimin and Tae, Jin and Hobi seemed to really believe her "quick acceptance" of the situation and that's why I'm assuming that they're the most delusional out of all of them.
Jungkook 1/5 🚩
Considering what he said to Yn at the end of the chapter, I assume that Kookie is the most aware that this situation is very messed up. He was ashamed to even look at her 'cause he feels guilty and knows that she's hating them rn.
He's that type of yandere that knows it's all wrong, feels regretful but still goes along with it all cause he desperately wants Yn's love just like the others.
I'm considering JK to be tamest one? But I could be wrong, who knows 👀
In short, I think they're all deranged in different levels but they won't physically hurt Yn.
I definitely wanna see more of them and I'm really excited for the next update ❤❤❤💜
Thank you so so much for both your kind words and taking the time to leave me such a detailed comment, it made me so happy!! 😭💖
Taehyung definitely belongs at the top of the list! He isn't the type to be physically abusive, it did make him sad/offended when the MC thought he was going to hit her, but he's not above using scare tactics to fuck with her head (i.e. the blood covered roses). In his head he is doing something romantic, but he also knows that pulling certain stunts will mess with her and hopefully keep her away from other people. Taehyung is harder to fool than many of the others but he's also a tad more delusional than Jimin, so Jimin takes first place when it comes to being suspicious of MC's compliance!
Hoseok is "tamer" than Vmin in some ways, but he's also worse in others. He doesn't like the idea of causing MC any distress, that's why he kept it so simple in his letters and gifts in contrast to vmin. But yes, he's also a lot more impulsive and rash in his actions and that's why he didn't even think twice about drugging her (and potential murder!). He's more of a "it'll work itself out somehow" type of person. I would say he's fairly realistic, like with how he pointed out how the MC hates them in the last chapter, but I think he would be quick to lower his guard and give into his own delusions a bit more once he seems a situation safe. Like with how the MC is now trapped there with them and can't run off. So, he's generally a bit more chill than vmin, but he's also willing to go to lengths a few of the others aren't – like murder.
Yup, Jimin is the toughest nut to crack! I feel like it would a very long time before he would fully believe that the MC actually loved him back. Jimin is by far the most perverted one, lmao! Once we get to the smut it'll be split into pairings/groups so that they all get some alone time with her, but you best believe Jimin would've loved to stay to watch if given the chance lmao 💀
Quiet and obsessive is a very good description of Yoongi! He's knows it'll take time before the MC begins to like them, and he's willing to wait no matter how long it takes. Yoongi doesn't necessarily enjoy lying to her, but he'll do it to de-escalate situations or to make himself look better in her eyes, even if it's only temporarily.
Namjoon is all of the above haha! Joon is the type to bring her to the doctor and then argue until he's allowed to stay for her entire examination, no matter what kind she's having 💀 He wants the MC to be healthy and well taken care of, but he also doesn't trust anyone besides himself to really do it right.
Seokjin is fairly tame! He and Jungkook are probably the "best" type of yanderes you could have. He just wants to spend time with the MC and be around her. The MC would be able to gain his trust pretty quickly!
You summed up Jungkook's character very well there, haha! I think JK might be a tiny bit more intense than SJ just because he's younger, but he is very tame still.
You are correct 😉 Thank you so much!!!💖
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morrak · 2 years
Text
Untitled Wednesday Library Series, Part 91
I do not know how I found the time and focus to read for pleasure these last few weeks. The thing nobody tells you about grad school and work and real life is that it’s all quite time consuming, actually. Whether I should’ve been reading this is apart from the point; I did do, and now I get to talk about it.
It: Live Oaking: Southern Timber for Tall Ships. First published in 1981 by Northeastern University Press; this, a copy from the second run, belongs to the 1995 Naval Institute Press edition. Our author is, incredibly, Virginia Steele Wood.
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The How
I would say I know, like, a normal amount about wooden ship construction. Sometimes books about such enter one’s awareness and can be had modestly used for modest expense. This isn’t one of those times, though; I paid like $28 for my copy. Sad times.
The Text
So wooden ship construction, right? Calls for great timbers — keels, floors, futtocks of various sorts, stern posts, Sampson posts, bows, knees — among other bits. Live oak is good for those, or was. These days it’s more complicated, but that’s slightly out of scope.
Wood (sensu author) has prepared for us here a good historical account of the live oak trade, and particular live oaking: extraction of the wood (sensu timber) from across southeastern North America, usually by expeditionary crews of shipwrights, carpenters, and slaves. That this is the only real book on the subject — which it is — doesn’t make it good — though it is — but it does make its quirks extra salient.
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Quirk #1: Wood (author) uses ‘live oak’ to mean only Quercus virginiana, and implies any other use is a vulgar of the name beyond its proper subject. This is bunk. There are lots of species called the same thing, and I’m not just saying that because I’m a hick. Nor even just because I’m a plant guy, nor from a place with Q. fusiformis as its dominant evergreen oak species, even! Her choice of terms is convenient for the needs of this book, yes, but it’s still bunk.
Quirk #2: Occasionally patriotic? For the needs of this book’s publication, also convenient. Tonally it is bizarre. Apart from two sentences, the book reads as a very straight-laced historical survey. Those spare couple refer to ‘our country’s’ naval power (in the late 18th century) and (of the War of 1812) ‘that regrettable conflict’. I know Warship Guy nostalgia is chronically maladaptive and goofy, but come on.
An interlude here to say the drawings by Walter E. Channing are excellent. He’s the only other author who seems to have treated the subject at all, so appropriate. Warship Guy drafting is chronically clean and good.
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Anyway. Quirk #3: The flow of information, while not at all bad, is unpretty. Some ideas and time periods seem to have given themselves easily to thorough research, but others skip by quickly. The later chapters are very thorough indeed, but have very little sense of gravity. The trade in question was vast and the scale of its costs — in labor, in time, in ecological upset — were enormous. This gets lost in the details of daily life that make up the after chapters. The Swift family empire gets a truly good chapter, but that feels like a pet project in a way the others don’t.
Excellent archives work going on here; tons of beautifully relevant original documents have been pulled. The traveling and digging and focus implicated are dumb impressive.
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The table to follow is the scariest figure in the whole thing. Hundreds of acres of live oak to build a single 74, and that’s just the frame — no planks, no decks, no rails, no cabins, no masts, no rig, no guns, no furniture, no maintenance — all cut by hand in, say, Georgia or Florida or Louisiana and pulled to, say, Maryland or Massachusetts. Tens of thousands of acres stripped a year for over a century, miles and miles inland from convenient coasts. I wish this did a better job of impressing (ha) that.
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The Object
This copy has suffered somewhat from humidity, but no rough handling. I talk about print quality practically every week, and in this case I can rave. So fucking good. Clean, dark, durable, inert. Scans of period documents are amazing; drawings are amazing. The design work rules. Endpapers are coarse and pleasant. Mentioning Channing’s drawings here again because they’re relevant and I can’t stress enough how legible their spatial aspect is.
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The Why, Though?
Having recently moved from [a place with Q. fusiformis as its dominant evergreen oak] to [a place with Q. virginiana as its dominant evergreen oak], the venerable southern live oak is a thing I feel compelled to Know. This is a goofy step toward that, but a step nonetheless.
I’m also excusing this as secret research for a secret project coming down the line sometime between soon and eventually. This contains a song printed (best I can tell, anyway) only once before in 1927, and I wanted it.
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pickledpascal · 1 year
Text
The Missing Link
Chapter Four: Hindenburg
Warnings: Panic attack, Miles Bron is closeted (?), some swearing.
Word Count: 7.4k
The Missing Link Masterlist
Previous Chapter  |  Next Chapter
Out of all the people Detective Blanc expected to arrive at the dock earlier that day, Ezra Wayne and his daughter were not one of them. Birdie Jay, why wouldn't he? She was the problematic fashionista who was clinging onto relevancy by trying to come up with something new and revolutionary every few years. Duke Cody was a men's rights activist, pleading for his audience to trust everything he said. And they did, not thinking to make at least one Google search to check if he was telling the truth or not. Claire Debella and Lionel Toussaint were similar in that much of their money to do their work was provided by Miles, in turn they'd basically support everything he did.
Ezra Wayne was the outlier. 
Why would he come all the way to Greece to meet an old friend who he was very vocal about not liking anymore? He didn't owe anything to Miles as far as Blanc knew. Ezra started his acting career from nothing. No help or reassurance was given to him by any of his past friends.
He knew this because of some of the interviews he'd seen. It was safe to say Benoit was a fan. Who wouldn't think the tall, dark, and handsome man wasn't the best looking in all of Hollywood anyway? He was also a great actor too, starring in anything from a silly rom com to the scariest of horror movies. Blanc liked versatility in his men.
Seeing Ezra in person was certainly something. His gray's were much more prominent than in the movies, showing his age. Maybe he hadn't gotten around to re-dyeing it yet. Then there was the part where Birdie deadnamed him. Ezra didn't seem that bothered, just annoyed. 
When he got his chance, Blanc smiled kindly as Ezra turned to him. "I must say, I absolutely love your films! I've seen almost all of 'em, you're amazin' in every single one." He was nervous but he needed to get that out as he looked Ezra up and down. It felt like he was a teenager again, talking to the most attractive boy at school. Ezra always looked absolutely beautiful on screen but it didn't compare to seeing him in real life.
Once on the boat, Benoit wanted to get an inkling to each person's personality. It just so happened that he was walking into the boat to talk with Lionel when Elle waved him over. It was hard to say no, especially with such a beautiful man in the room. But nerves, they were never something Benoit got over easily. He was a relatively calm person, even after the sheer amount of dangerous cases he's been through that would send any sane person running. Who takes on the mysterious case of the death of the mystery novel writer? Apparently, Benoit Blanc does. When Benoit did get nervous, though, they didn't leave as swiftly as he would hope.
After all, meeting your celebrity crush and escaping a near death experience are two completely different things. Although, they might meet on this isolated island.
Conversation with the father-daughter duo was certainly interesting and insinuated something Benoit wasn’t sure he wanted to admit. As much as he wanted to focus on the matter at hand, it was hard with someone as determined as Elle to make both himself and Ezra a blubbering mess. 
Benoit pursed his lips, he might as well use this time to try and eliminate Ezra from his suspect list. Or try to. “Y’know, Ezra, you and your daughter seem to be out of place among all these…. Eccentric personalities. For an actor, it’s strange of me to admit such a thing.” It was peculiar that Ezra was here. If he wasn’t the murderer–which would be horrible for Benoit–-then why was he here?
“I like to think it’s because I grew up poor and didn’t compromise myself or leech off of others in order to get rich and famous.” The brunette explained with a hum. Benoit nodded at Ezra and looked down at his hands.
The others happened to grow up in middle class families, besides Birdie–she was the daughter of a famous model, making her famous even before she was born. And Lionel, a little different too. He intimately worked with Miles, being employed by him for the sake of doing what he always wanted to do. Only for the sake of science of course. 
—------
Now, Benoit did not know of Ezra before his transition but the actor was always open about that time, sharing photos of himself and even his deadname but Benoit didn’t think it was that difficult to call Ezra by the name he goes by now. Apparently it was very hard for Miles. 
“Liz-Ezra…. You look amazing. Great, actually. I’m glad you’re here.” Miles’ eyebrows furrowed as he corrected himself. Benoit observed him as he walked the length of the glass dock. It seemed Miles was blushing a little but it didn’t look like embarrassment.
Huh, interesting…. Oh.
Oh.
Well, it’s reassuring that Benoit isn’t the only one attracted to Ezra. He glanced at Helen who stared at Miles. His main objective was to get her some answers, he needed to focus on that. If he happened to get a boyfriend out of this case, well, that would be nice. Benoit closed his eyes for a moment to get his head in the right mindset, fixing his sunglasses.
“Can we just take a second and fully inbreathiate this moment together?” Miles said with a gentle smile. Benoit pursed his lips and cocked his eyebrow, he ignored it but something inside him was saying that he needed to remember that for later.
Benoit was quiet as the tour started, mostly hanging around Helen to give her some semblance of comfort. Someone here killed her sister so he didn’t blame her if she was tense and weary of everyone, even if some of them seemed too dense to commit a murder. 
“Get settled in! Change. Let’s meet up at the pool.” Miles told everyone with a happy smile. “We’ll have a chill afternoon and then the game begins!” He announced, letting everyone fiddle with the bracelets around their wrists to find their room. As expected, Miles requested Benoit come with him for a private chat.
—-------
The pool seemed to be calmer but that meant it was time for Benoit to start gathering some information, among other things. He looked around the rectangular pool, catching sight of Birdie and Claire on the pool chairs off to the side while Miles was playing a tune on the guitar. He made his way over the Miles and grabbed one of the drinks inside the cooler. 
“Oh! Baby Blue!” Benoit exclaimed, a light smile on his face as he twisted the cap open and took a drink. His nose wrinkled slightly at the taste. It was like Jared Leto somehow bottled how he smelled. Benoit had never met him before but that’s what he imagined he’d smell like.
Duke took a sip of his drink, “Yeah. Miles, you remember when you almost pancaked me outside Andi’s–”
“Anderson Cooper’s birthday party? Yeah, Coop's parties are memorable.” Miles laughed with an almost nervous smile as he grabbed a bottle as well.
Benoit stood from his crouching position and looked over at Ezra and Elle. They were talking with each other. No one seemed to want to talk to them. Peculiar, with such a close-knit group like this. He made his way over to the pair and sat at the other pool chair next to Ezra. “Have you always been…. The outcast in a group like this?” He asked, careful but still blunt.
“Eh, kinda.” Ezra lowered his sunglasses so they covered his eyes, the sides of his lips were tense. “I was the only one who wanted a job in the performing arts and then I told them I was also trangender, kinda put the nail in the coffin.”
“Hmm.” Benoit nodded, catching a glimpse of the scars ever so slightly showing from underneath the half-open shirt on Ezra’s shoulders. “You look…. Great.” He said with a light smile, knowing his face must be some shade of red. He assumed crimson. It didn’t take the detective much to get him a blushing mess. It just depended on the person and if they had the means to.
Ezra let out a small laugh at the compliment. “Thanks, Detective. I could say the same for you.” Benoit bit the inside of his cheek. Was he flirting with him? Holy shit. “I mean, I would be very proud of myself if I was the most attractive detective alive.” Ezra shrugged.
Benoit let out a flattered laugh, feeling as if he was a boy again. “Some might say you’re the most attractive actor alive.” It was weak, but it was all he could come up with. It was like his brain was short-circuiting. Only for a second.
—------
After the little stunt at the pool, Helen and Benoit met in the gym as it seemed no one was using it or was going to use it in the short time they were there. Of course, that led to Benoit snooping around the compound to eventually find Duke watching Miles and Whiskey…. Doing their thing in front of a window. Honestly, though, how could Miles not see Duke. Weird. 
Helen got a little closer, wanting to hear what the pair was talking about behind the glass. Benoit pursed his lips, shaking his head at her. She was good but damn if she got caught, that'd be the end of their investigation.
—------
"My mom took me to Paris when I was six years old. First time I looked at this lady, it changed my life. You know Da Vinci invented a technique for brush strokes that leave no lines?" Miles gushed over the real Mona Lisa, the one in songs and meant to be the museum of art in France. Guess not these days. "That's how you can look straight at her and her expression changes every time. Her smile's there, then it disappears. Is she happy? Is she sad? Is it something else?"
Benoit never was one to be interested in art, at least not high art like the Mona Lisa or any of Goya's paintings. He appreciated it, sure, just not one to dedicate his whole life to caring about them. It seemed Ezra was similar in that aspect, taking a sip from his glass with an unbothered look in his eyes. 
Helen kept staring at the painting, nodding. "It really is something." Benoit glanced up at the painting before he looked back at Miles.
Claire looked from Miles to the painting and narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute, Miles. Why do you have the Mona Lisa in your living room?" Her tone was pointed, like she knew something the rest didn't. Or, that Claire knew Miles was gonna do something she didn't like.
Miles let out a breath, a cocky smile appearing on his lips. "In one week, I've invited world leaders and members of the press from all over to unveil the future." He said as he grabbed a crystal-like object from his pocket and showed it to everyone in the room. Most looked confused…. But Claire and Lionel…. "You know what this is?"
"You know damn well we do." Lionel gritted out, tapping at the lip of his glass. "What's going on, Miles?" 
Benoit raised his hand, letting out a strained laugh. "Uh, I don't." It seemed, neither did Ezra or his daughter who's attention was peaked at the crystallic object. They seemed to have felt the rise of tension in the room.
"Don't drop it." Miles threw it at Benoit who caught it with ease.
But Claire, she was concerned. "Oh my god!" Perhaps something would have happened if the little crystal touched the floor. They were all in trouble, then. 
Benoit looked at the crystal between his fingers, carefully staring at the grooves and small bubbles that seemed to be trapped inside.
"That's a new solid hydrogen fuel. It's incredibly powerful." Miles explained, "It's radically efficient. Zero carbon emissions, and it's derived from abundant seawater. I call it Klear, with a K." Because of course he did. "And at this event, we are going to announce 'Klear America.' Our affordable home power solution. Klear is going to be powering people's dreams, all over this country, by the end of this year."
Ezra shook his head, he may not have been a chemist or anything that had to do with the sciences but the looks Claire and Lionel had on their faces weren't hard to read. They were concerned, devastated even. 
Lionel slammed his glass down on one of the podiums, causing the glass on the Mona Lisa to lift back up. It was protecting itself, from what? It didn't know just yet. "No. No. Because I was clear with you. I told you I need two years minimum to test this stuff to see if it's safe or even viable. Claire and I are not gonna be responsible for putting something out in the world before it is tested. And–" He paused once Miles pointed up at the air around them.
"Shit." Ezra breathed. So much for being safe on this summer vacation. They were walking around in a ticking time bomb….
"Oh, no." Lionel realized as well, stepping back from Miles.
Miles nodded with a smirk, "Oh, yeah."
Benoit's eyebrows furrowed as he looked back at the small crystal in his hand. "You're running this entire place off this?"
"The whole Glass Onion is powered by Klear." Miles let out a light laugh. He was giddy, his dreamlike fuel was working. As far as he knew. "Come on, let's…. Let's eat!"
It was clear that both Lionel and Claire weren't sure they could trust Miles anymore. He was being reckless. More reckless than he usually was. Elle narrowed her eyes at Miles before she looked at Ezra who let out a light breath. Maybe they could get through this night and leave as soon as possible in the morning. Ezra didn't want to stay too much longer if the whole island was dangerous and he also didn't want to feel responsible if something were to happen to his daughter.
This was a huge mistake.
—----
Dinner was short-lived, Benoit solved Miles' "mystery" in just a few short seconds and Ezra had to refrain from the urge to laugh once he saw his defeated face. The pair went upstairs, leaving Ezra and Elle with everyone else who deemed it was time to get royally hammered after their weekend was ruined. 
Duke's notifications went off, causing the glass vault to go back up. "You know, you could just power it down." Lionel suggested to Duke. 
"Ah, it's my Google Alerts. Got them for all you guys." Duke explained, taking a sip from his glass. "Whiskey, sports I like, general interests."
Ezra rubbed Elle's back while she leaned on him. She was tired even though it was only 8:30 but he couldn't blame her. The whole day was filled with…. things out of the ordinary. Plus she found another father figure and half her time was spent getting him and Ezra together. Well, Elle's work seemed to be done. They may never see each other again after Ezra leaves tomorrow. It was sad, thinking about the future and the fact that each time Elle would look at a magazine with Benoit's solved cases on the front cover, she would ache for something that could have been.
Lionel was unimpressed as Duke's phone rang yet again. "You have a Google Alert for the word 'movie?'"
"I like movies!" Duke defended. "Don't hate. Nerd." Says the guy who started off on Twitch as a gamer. 
Ezra took a sip of his drink, looked at the red table in front of him. His eyes glazed over as he thought about what may happen after this. He'd be glad to go home, back to his normal life. Which was weird to think that being an actor everyone sought over was normal. But it was for him. Though, Elle knew differently. He longed for someone to be with, and if that someone just so happened to be Benoit Blanc…. Well, wouldn't that be nice?
Birdie let out a relieved sigh as she sat down on the couch, "Thank God for Benoit Blanc. We don't have to spend the weekend spelling hedges." She sipped her drink through her straw.
"Well, I'm outta her. Tomorrow morning. Gone." Duke stated, waving his hand.
Whiskey shook her head, "We just got here." She was on the floor. Ezra wasn't sure why or how she got there and he didn't really care either.
Duke mockingly whined like a baby. Elle's gaze hardened at him, she could treat Whiskey much better than him. If only she could let him go and leave him, Duke didn't deserve her. Not to mention, Duke was at least twenty years older than Whiskey. "You can stay. Have fun."
"Fine. You're murdering my vibe." Whiskey grabbed the bottle of tequila next to her and stood up, walking outside.
Birdie whined, "No! Miserable in paradise. We've all earned this."
Andi walked towards the group, "Yes, you have." She seemed more tense than before. Perhaps she was gonna blow up again.
Ezra helped Elle stand from her place on the couch and retreated outside with her by his side. He didn't want to hear whatever argument that was going to happen. It would have been entertaining but Ezra's brain was close to shutting off. And if Elle was anything like her father, he knew it was the same for her.
Soon, Andi was leaving too. She stopped to say a few words to Whiskey then made her way to Ezra. 
"You-you are the only good one. And I don't blame you for leaving all those years ago." She said before running off. 
Ezra cocked his head somewhat confused while Elle looked off into the distance, admiring how the moonlight danced with the water. Whatever happened in there, must've been enough to set her off. Not that Ezra blamed Andi at all. After everything that's happened between her and Miles and suddenly she's cut out of the company. Ezra didn't know many details about why but he assumed it was because of something big…. 
His eyes widened, shaking his head a little. He was being dumb. It was because of that Klear stuff, wasn't it? Andi knew it was dangerous and didn't want Miles to be distributing across the entire country. No wonder….
—-----
Well, they certainly picked the wrong time to make their way back inside. Duke looked as if he was choking, falling down on one of the coffee tables until his harbored breaths were silenced. He died. Right in front of their eyes. Ezra immediately shielded Elle's eyes, holding her tight to his chest while Benoit inspected his body. 
"I'm afraid Mr. Cody is…. Is dead." Benoit said as he looked up at Claire. There was a certain sense of bewilderment in his eyes. He's seen plenty of deaths before, it was a part of his job, but none quite like Duke's.
Birdie started to scream while Whiskey cried, "No, Duke! No!" 
The rest of the conversation seemed to buzz in Ezra's ears. Someone killed Duke. That much was obvious. The question was who? And, well, there were only a select few on the island.
"Fuck." Ezra cursed under his breath, loosening his grip on Elle. "We have to get the fuck out of here." He ran a hand through his hair.
Sure, Claire could see the headlines but Ezra could see them too. He was an actor, a transgender one at that so criticism was something he was used to. But this…. This would be a whole new level. Ezra hated red-pill "truthers," so being on an island with one who just so happened to die would automatically blacklist him. Progressives in Hollywood wouldn't cast him anymore and the conservatives didn't cast him at all because he was trans. 
"My dear, hey, you're gonna be alright." Benoit told Elle softly, wrapping his arms around her for a moment while she sniffled softly.
Even if Duke was an asshole and a bitch, witnessing his death wasn't something Elle was particularly fond of. Sure, he might have deserved it with the harm he caused on little boys minds but…. This…. This was different. It would haunt Elle for the rest of her life, she was sure. 
"Boat can't come till low tide in the morning. Six am at the earliest." Lionel announced as he walked back.
Benoit patted Elle's shoulder for a moment before he looked at Lionel. "Do they understand the situation?" He asked with a frown.
"There is no other landing point, and Miles' dumbass Banksy dock was set to low-tide height and it isn't buoyant. It is a piece of shit." Lionel explained, tone very reasonably pointed at the man who decided to have said dock. 
Ezra wrapped a blanket around Elle's shoulders, knowing that sometimes she needed the weight to feel normal again. This certainly wouldn't help all the things going on inside her brain. And, holy shit, was Miles saying someone was trying to kill him and not Duke? Well, then they royally fucked up. Poison in the person's drink was rather cliché wasn't it? And clumsy because shit like this could happen. You could mix up the drinks and accidentally have given it to the wrong person. 
Hm, maybe Ezra could be the new Harlan Thrombey…. Without all the parts of suicide and…. Well, Benoit Blanc appeared in Ezra's life too. Maybe that was a sign.
"Forget about his phone. Look." Lionel pointed at Duke's holster…. Which was missing the gun. The gun that Duke was famous for always keeping with him.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck…." Ezra ran a hand through his hair, squeezing Elle's shoulder to comfort her. Now someone was roaming around the island with a goddamned gun. So much for a little light hearted fun. 
Elle shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I can't believe this is happening." Her lungs were screaming for air, her esophagus closing up. "D-Dad…." She said weakly. She could feel her heartbeat going faster and faster. She couldn't breathe. 
She was having a panic attack.
Ezra's eyes widened. He knew these signs. He didn't care about what was happening behind him, he needed to focus on his daughter. "I'm right here, Elle, c'mon look at me, okay?" He tilted Elle's head towards him as he wrapped his arms around her. "Take a few big breaths, honey. I'm here for you, whatever you need, okay?" Ezra squeezed her tight, not missing the concerned look Benoit had for her. But it was like he knew Ezra would help her through it. 
"Blanc, you have to help me. Help me! Help me!" Miles yelled right before Benoit slapped him across the face.
Benoit shouted, "What happens at ten o'clock!" 
As soon as those words left his mouth, all the lights powered down. They were showered in darkness, the only light that didn't turn off was the lighthouse just outside. It rotated, causing only a sliver of light to run through the house. 
Against Benoit's wishes, no one stayed in the living room. Well, besides Elle and Ezra. Weirdly, the light seemed to help Elle out of her panic attack. Her heart was still beating fast but she could breathe again which helped marginally.
"Alright, that's good, sweetheart." Ezra said calmly, cupping her cheek softly as he wrapped a blanket around her. "I'll grab you some water, okay. Stay here." Turning on the flashlight from his phone, he found his way to the kitchen and grabbed a glass to fill it with water. Once he was back in the living room, Elle took it gratefully and downed it. Her throat was feeling better, less dry than before. "There we go." Ezra kissed the top of her head. "I love you, kiddo."
Elle buried her face in Ezra's chest, letting a few tears flow. "I love you too, Dad. So much."
—-----
"Who?" Claire asked, that's the thing all of them were thinking but it seemed only Benoit had the answers.
Benoit, looking off to the side for a moment, smacked his lips. "Well, I keep returning, in my mind, to the Glass Onion." Ezra cocked an eyebrow at him. He's heard of the weird ways Benoit had explained the truth of a case but…. What did the Glass Onion have to do with any of this? "Something that seems densely layered, mysterious and inscrutable. But in fact, the center is in plain sight. And that is why this case has confounded me like no other." Benoit gently rubbed Elle's arm before walking the length of the living room.
"Why, every complex layer peeled back has revealed another layer and another layer and come to naught." Benoit looked around at the room, at the different people standing in front of him as his eyes narrowed momentarily. "And that was the problem, right there. You see, I expected complexity. I expected intelligence. I expected a puzzle, a game." Where was he going with this? Ezra kept Elle close, not knowing if they were in a room with a murderer or not. "But that's not what any of this is. It hides. Not behind complexity, but behind mind-numbing obvious clarity. Truth is, it doesn't hide at all."
Ezra looked around the room. Who would be the most obvious choice to murder both Andi and Duke? He could think of many reasons why all of them would want to kill Andi but Duke? He was dumb, he had no ill intentions. At least, not to them. To the greater public? Probably. 
"I was staring right at it." Benoit sighed, feeling somewhat dumb for not assuming it at first. "The killer nearly struck my Achilles' heel. But thank high heaven, at the last moment, I realized what had teased my brain through this entire case… "inbreathiate." It's not a word." Benoit shook his head, glancing at Ezra for a moment. 
It seemed obvious he would start to catch on out of all of them. Not to say that Whiskey wasn't smart or the rest weren't but they all believed Miles and how "smart" he portrays himself to be. Ezra, on the other hand, does not. 
Lionel shook his head for a second, not getting how this related to anything. "What?" 
"'Inbreathiate.'" Ezra repeated. "It's not a real word, it just sounds like one but it's…. Made up. Like something a kid would say to sound smart." He explained, blinking a little as the pieces started to fall into place. 
"Precisely." Benoit nodded, "And "reclamation," that is a word. But it's the wrong word." His eyebrows furrowed for a moment, sighing. "This entire day… A veritable minefield of malapropisms and factual errors." Now, Ezra would be lying if he said he knew any of the words Benoit used in that single sentence but he was sure the detective was using them correctly. After all, Benoit had this way of speaking that felt like he would be more at home in the 40s or 50s if he should ever set foot in that time period.
Benoit turned and pointed out the window. "That is the Aegean Sea." Right…. Miles said the Ionian Sea. But if what Benoit was starting to say was true then… It was Miles all along. But he couldn't, right? Miles was too dumb to pull off a murder. 
"Oh, yeah. It is, it is." Claire said, not understanding what Benoit was trying to explain.
"His dick doesn't float. His wonder-fuel is a disaster. His grasp of disruption theory is remedial at best." Aw, and just when Ezra was going to turn to the dark side. Yeah…. No. "He didn't design the puzzle boxes. He didn't write the mystery. Et voilà. It all adds up. The key to this entire case. And it was staring at me right in the face." Benoit then clarified, clicking his tongue as turned back the group. "Like everyone in the world, I assumed Miles Bron was a complicated genius."
Ezra chuckled, shaking his head. "First mistake, Detective." He shrugged. Miles couldn't come up with his own idea if it saved a million lives. 
Ezra knew that and he warned Andi against partnering with Miles… but she didn't listen. And that's why he left. Sure, the transphobia was part of it but he couldn't bear to watch Andi throw away all her ideas and let Miles get all the credit. Alpha was hers, never Miles'. He just so happened to run into Andi and she took him along for the ride. 
Benoit glanced at Ezra, a slightly amused look in his eye. "Look into the clear center of this Glass Onion… Miles Bron is an idiot."
Whiskey covered her lips, a little shocked Benoit would say such a thing. Miles' jaw tensed, "Oh, please." He grumbled, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. "Just tell us who tried to kill me."
"No one tried to kill you, you vainglorious buffoon." Benoit countered, shoving his hands in his pockets. If Miles was the murderer, Benoit certainly did not seem scared when he insulted him to his face.
Miles exclaimed, growing frustrated and not in the way that would make him seem innocent. "Duke took my glass!" He wouldn't make a great actor, Ezra could see all his tells easily.
Keeping his composure, Benoit looked at Miles unpressed. "That's what you told us he did. He must've picked it up by mistake, you told us, right after it happened." Ezra cocked his head slightly as he started to remember. It was right in front of them. Miles couldn't be that dumb? To attempt murder right before their eyes. "Ignore his lies, everyone, and think clearly now! What did we all actually see?"
"Y-You handed Duke your own glass. In front of us! And you lied. Made us think you didn't." Ezra said, letting go of Elle once it seemed she was alright. "I must admit I'm not sad that he's dead but…. You traumatized my kid for life.
"Blanc, Ezra… you're telling us Miles killed Duke?" Lionel asked in disbelief. 
Benoit nodded, "Yes."
"Why?"
"Because the night Andi sent you all the emails, when Duke got to Andi's house early on his motorcycle he saw Miles leaving. Was almost struck by him." Benoit explained, Ezra wasn't following this time. What email? "In fact, he told all of us. Right in the open, he told us. That night, at Andi's." 
Claire nodded, rubbing her chin slightly. "That night…. Duke told us he almost got in an accident. He… pancaked?" She realized.
"Okay yeah, but Miles had been living in Greece the past six months." Lionel said. He couldn't accept the fact Miles would kill one of their closest friends. Even if Duke was…. Duke.
Benoit let out a light huff, a laugh almost. "No." It was clipped. "Whiskey." He made his way over to her. This piqued Elle's interest, what did all this have to do with her? "Miles saw you on your birthday in New York. Gave you that necklace for your birthday. You're a Taurus." He whispered.
"I am." Whiskey said in a light whisper as well before she realized, "Two weeks ago. May 9th."
Benoit shrugged as Peg ran back into the room. "Forget the hydrofuels, and the sweatshops, and the consensual cuckolding for cable news assignments." Cuckold? God, that had to be the first time he's ever said that for a case. It made Ezra snort out a laugh. 
"Sorry what?" Peg asked, face clear with confusion. 
"And focus! On the envelope." Benoit motioned with his hand to a staircase.
Everyone's heads turned at the staircase to reveal Andi descending from the steps. Birdie let out a shriek, while Claire yelled a few curses. Ezra, on the other hand, was utterly confused.
"Andi?" Lionel asked, appalled.
Ezra looked from Andi to Benoit, "What the fuck is going on?" She was dead not more than two minutes ago when he thought she was dead, the grief was just starting to set in until she came back.
"Who did the envelope threaten?" Benoit didn't expect Ezra to know, maybe he should have explained but it's not like Whiskey really would have known either. "Miles Bron." Almost as if Miles' mom just died in a house fire, his expression became sour and hardened. "That night, Lionel faxed Andi's email to Miles who received it in New York. The one thing that could destroy his empire of lies, the truth in the hands of the only person unafraid to tell it. So Miles drives his Baby Blue Porsche to the scene of the crime, and Andi let's him in." Benoit cocked his head at Miles, eyes narrowed.
Benoit never had any remorse unveiling the truth, especially with cases with such…. Shitheads. "Of course she did. Miles' machine of lawyers and power could destroy her through sheer dumb force. But Miles himself? Oh, she was clever enough not to fear Miles." If this was going where Ezra thought this was going… then who was the woman that looked exactly like Andi? "But she didn't see the real threat, the obvious threat until it was too late. Duke alone knew you were there that night, but he didn't know Andi was dead." 
Ezra ran a hand down his forehead. Wait… Andi had mentioned she had a sister to him, maybe a few times just when families were brought up in conversation. She didn't happen to say her sister was twin but… What else could this be? The actor looked up at the "imposter"—if he could really call her that–and realized. That had to be Helen.
"No, no, he didn't know that until this evening." Benoit continued as he pointed out, "Right here, when he got a Google Alert on his phone, which has now fallen strangely silent." He made his way around Miles and grabbed something from his pocket to reveal that Miles had Duke's phone ever since he died. Ezra was somewhat scared Benoit was feeling him up or something, thankfully it didn't seem Benoit had a kink for villains. "Which he showed to you… because you don't own a phone." 
"Did you really think you could stop all of them from finding out about Andi's death? They all have phones." The blonde made her way towards the group, her southern accent was thick.
"He didn't need to hide the death, he just needed to hide that Duke has shown him the death moments before he was killed." Benoit spun the tail a little further… Well, not so much spinning, more like weaving. Putting the pieces together so they could see the finished product more clearly. "Right out in the open, Duke showed him. And told him exactly what he wanted in return for his silence. So what does Miles do?" The Detective stepped away from the man in question.
The woman followed Benoit, "Does he keep a vial of poison in his tooth or something? Is that some rich person thing?" If it was, Ezra was in trouble. 
Benoit sighed, shaking his head in slight disappointment. "No, no, no, no, it's just… it's so much stupider than that. Birdie, what are the ingredients to your Cuban Breeze?" He asked.
Suddenly the attention was on her and it winded her for a moment. "Um, vodka, amaretto…."
"Oh, God." Whiskey gasped, raising her hands to her mouth as she realized. 
"And… pineapple juice." Birdie finished after a little while.
Benoit strained, slightly disgusted and appalled. "An allergy!" 
"He can't even have a drop." 
"Pineapple juice!" The detective exclaimed in frustration. "He just put pineapple juice in his whiskey! It's so dumb." He shook his head, raising a hand to his forehead to rub at it. It teased his brain in the worst way possible. 
Birdie, probably drunk, gasped in amazement. "It's so dumb, it's brilliant!" 
"No! It's just dumb!" Benoit exclaimed, rubbing a hand against his forehead.
Ezra didn't need to check as he went up to her while the rest went to check their phones, reading off the first article about Cassandra Brand. "You must be Helen Brand…" He said softly.
"You know Helen?" Claire asked. It seemed none of them knew who she was, or they didn't pay much attention when Andi told them about her.
Helen glanced from Claire to Ezra. "We met once. He was in Alabama for some movie and recognized me." She explained, fiddling with the red envelope in her hands as Miles realized… The person he just tried to kill wasn't Andi at all. But an entirely different character all together.
"And now we come to Helen's attempted murder. Which, I have to give you credit for, did have a sound foundation of thought." Benoit said, earning him a glare from Ezra. The actor could see it being a bad habit already, the detective praising a criminal for their creativity just because it tested him enough. But Ezra didn't mind if that was the worst thing about Benoit. "You realized the opportunity laid out in front of you. You have a house on a remote island, filled with desperate people, all of whom have a real-life reason to wish this woman harm. You–" Benoit paused suddenly, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Miles. Something started to become abundantly clear in his mind.
Benoit continued, somewhat weary, "Furthermore, you have a loaded gun conveniently within reach. And the lights had even been turned off." He let out a heavy sigh as he brought a hand to his forehead. "Heavens to…" Ezra didn't want to laugh but the sound escaped him anyways. Benoit may have described Ransom and Harlan in an older case as "drama mamas" but he wasn't exempt from that description either. "You dim-witted, brainless… jackass!" Elle jumped a little as she wrapped the blanket tighter around her form. 
"Your one murder, with any panache at all, and you stole the whole idea from me." It seemed he knew how it felt now. Andi got her ideas stolen by Miles for years, the napkin wasn't the only thing. They all knew that.
Lionel cocked his head, "And after all that, you…. You still kept the envelope? Didn't burn it or anything?" He asked. It could have been seen as a trophy of some sort but if someone–like Helen–were to discover he still had it then his empire would fall. 
"You recognize this?" Helen asked, almost smug as she took the napkin out of its packaging. "Andi's handwritin'. I got you, son of a bitch." Miles almost looked scared. 
Miles shook his head, "Oh, let's slow down there, sister. Okay? Because first, how could you ever prove that that's the original?" He countered. "She might have copied mine."
"No. The bar closed nine years ago, and hers has one thing that yours just doesn't." Helen pointed at something, Ezra couldn't see what since he was standing behind her. However, Ezra was prepared to jump Miles if Helen asked him to. 
Miles hummed, glancing over Helen's shoulder to meet Benoit's eyes. "Okay, but second…." He clicked on his light to set the napkin aflame. 
Benoit and Ezra ran over to Helen. "What the hell did he do?" Benoit exclaimed as he looked at the pile of ash that suddenly formed at Helen's feet. 
"He just burned it!" Helen gasped as Benoit squatted down to see it for himself.
"Burned what? I didn't see anything." Miles shrugged.
Ezra growled, "You are acting worse than a child! And I should know, I have one." Elle pouted, shaking her head. At least Ezra raised her right. Who knows what Miles' parents were like. 
"This will not stand." Benoit ground out, his jaw clenching. 
Miles chuckled, "Uh-huh. Well, did you see this proof, this smoking napkin, Blanc?" He asked with a knowing smile. They had no more evidence. Nothing that could prove Andi's death. "No. Did anybody?" The group casted their gaze downward, defeated and silent. They couldn't go against Miles, he had them in his pocket. "Okay, then wow! Wow! We got some big accusations flying around here. Except, everybody seems to have a very foggy recollection of what they actually saw–"
"Well, I did see you burn something." Ezra countered.
"And there's nothing but totally circumspective evidence." Miles continued, completely ignoring Ezra like he did most of the time a decade ago. "So, if this was just us playing my murder mystery game, which we should have been doing all weekend, then Blanc wins an iPad Pro this time." He joked softly. "But this is the real world. And in the real world you need more than a neat, little detective story. You need evidence. And you've got… nothing. Do you?"
Ezra looked from Benoit to Helen. He was right. You need evidence and you need witnesses. And if Ezra was going to be the only to side with Helen then the courts would never work out in her favor. Miles had the majority here. 
Benoit pursed his lips, a sad glaze rolling over his eyes. He hated losing in a game as serious as this. "He's right." He sighed, pursing his lips. "The contents of that envelope and his possession of it were our only physical evidence."
"Right." Miles pointed at him, clicking on his lighter yet again to fiddle with it. "Wanna take that to the cops? You wanna take that to the courts?" He laughed quietly, "Look, pick your poison. Anywhere you go, it's going to be your word against mine. How do you think that's gonna go?" 
Benoit took his jacket from the glass pedestal he hung it from and put it on as he walked across the room, ushering Ezra with him by setting a hand on his back.
Miles shrugged, clicking his tongue slightly. "I think it's gonna go about like it went for Andi."
"Jesus." Lionel whispered under his breath, glancing at Helen. He could have been good. But no. Lionel wasn't quite there yet. 
"And I do want to say, your sister was a complicated woman, but she meant the world to me." Miles pursed his lips, trying his best to sound sincere. But if it was sincere… would he have ever killed her? "And I'm so sorry for your loss." 
Dejected, Helen made her way over to Benoit. "Blanc. I need you to do something." Tears started to form at the edges of her eyes, threatening to fall. After all this work and… nothing. 
"I'm sorry, Helen." Benoit shook his head, eyebrows drawing together. "I gave you the truth. This is where my jurisdiction ends. I have to answer to the police, the courts, the system. There's nothing I can do." He took a quick breath as he grabbed the glass with 'Andi' written on it. "Except maybe… offer you some courage." Benoit handed Helen the glass. "And a reminder of why your sister walked away in the first place." He quickly handed her something else, Ezra could only imagine what it was. 
Benoit turned away, whispering to Ezra, "I suggest you and your daughter come with me." He said. It was a very serious tone and Ezra hadn't had the time to think it through much so he followed his instructions.
Ezra grabbed Elle by her arm and walked outside, following Benoit to the docks. He wondered why Benoit was in such a hurry to leave. Or maybe… not? He didn't seem that worried. 
But, well…. The entire Glass Onion blew up a few minutes later and Ezra would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the fireworks. 
"Disruption." Benoit laughed as he took a drag from his cigar. 
"Fuckin' A." Derol laughed as well, his joint firmly between his lips as he lounged on a chair.
Ezra ran a hand through Elle's hair while a proud smile was on his lips. Helen sure knew how to shake things up, Ezra didn't mind though. Miles deserved to have his house blown up.
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whichuniverseisthis · 8 months
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The one where shit starts to go down. Beware of spoilers!
First - Vs Starly
Previous - Vs Meditite & Riolu II
Next - Vs Staravia & Skuntank II
Last - Vs Dialga & Palkia VI
Chapter 21 / Chapter 358
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I didn't remember this intro, but it's actually super cool. Veilstone is quite the stand-out between the Sinnoh cities.
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Him. And the scariest Chingling ever. This guy is so interesting throughout the arc, he's basically the one that started the second half of the story.
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An edgy little dude. Actually pretty cool looking shot.
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I love how Team Galatic is the most unsettling and funny team at the same time. Like, they're creepy, but they also do things like this. Just noticed Gible's and Chingling's faces, lmao.
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This is an interesting way to bring up the Platinum expanded Pokédex. In story they could easily justify this by saying that Probopass and Magnezone were disrupting the Dex with magnetic waves or something, but only because it's just the two of them.
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I'm pretty sure there could have been a gentler way to do this, but you do you.
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How did they even enter if it's closed?
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Is this some kind of "revelry in the dark" thing? Where they realize things during the night?
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Cool shot.
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And finally, all the misunderstandings start to get cleared. Right here is the turning point of the arc.
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Note
Here’s an ask for iron petals💖
I wonder if Dempsey would like to go skiing? it sounds really fun I got the chance to go once it’s extremely fun, also i wondering if he would enjoy exploring abandoning buildings or taking pictures or nature like be a photographer.
This sounds awesome! I love action-packed stuff and I’m sure he would too! He’d definitely give skiing it a shot! But I hope they allow snowboards for me. It’s no surprise that Dempsey would love to stay active because it’s great for his mind and also keeps his killer strength and endurance in great shape. I’d try to follow him as best I can down the hill. I know I’d be the one who’s just cruising down the snowy hills while he’s doing 360° turns and flips. He loves to show off what he’s made of, oorah! For some reason this came to mind when I started brainstorming bc I feel like he’d pull this stunt
I love making scrapbooks to each represent a chapter of my life. And because Tank and I are sharing our lives together, I wanted him to help me with my 3rd book. He usually suggests design ideas or points out great shots. Camping trips happen a lot so that’s always a great start! I think one of my favorite shots is where he was posing dramatically at a cliff spot where you could see the whole town from below. Tank said one of his favorite pictures besides the night sky (because it’s so much prettier without light pollution in the way) was one of me of a blue butterfly on my nose. Tank also hijacked a few of the google drive album of him making angry faces and goofing of. So now our scrapbook has a page of us with funny faces complimented with whatever memes we printed off the internet (half of his choices were freedom memes and edgy skeleton memes)
I always was fascinated with urban exploring, especially abandoned malls and any fun indoor entertainment places like Showbiz Pizza. Considering doing that was what lead me to be meet Dempsey, I asked him about it. He raised his eyebrow at me.
🧨Really? You didn’t learn your lesson the first time, huh?
🌻It’s not going to be government owned property this time! And we’ll be fine if we’re quiet enough
🧨Technically everything’s government owned. But I’m not gonna let you get hurt. I’d never forgive myself if I lost you or something.
🌻Honey, please? It’s only once
🧨Alright, I guess you’ll be fine with a big strong man protecting you.
And then he’s wrapping me in a hug bc he knows I melt easily. 💕💕💕
Aside from the mushy stuff, now comes our adventure: the mall! An old abandoned mall that went bankrupt around 2007. We slip in quietly through the back that apparently lead us straight into the food court. There were lights on the neon signs but we relied on flashlights for the most part.
🌻It’s pretty scary with the lights off.
🧨The scariest thing about this food court is that it’s got an Arby’s.
We took photos around as best we could with our phones and figured to use Lightroom on my computer at home to brighten it up. The best part was breaking into an FYE and finding out that not all the stuff was boxed up! Dempsey was thrilled. “Hell yeah! Free shit!” He told me to open my backpack up to store his looting of cds and whatever movies we could find for a blind movie night. “Hey, finder’s keepers. It’s not stealing if we can’t pay anyone, right?”
It was tons of fun overall! The only part that freaked him out was a bit of the graffiti because what I’d hope were teenagers sprayed some devil talk in the lowest level. He didn’t make it obvious but I could see in his eyes that the emptiness of the mall with that was making him uneasy. Oh! And we got a sunset shot on the roof of the mall but we had to make it quick before anyone could flag us. I’d never be able to do it again because of safety reasons according to Dempsey but it was still great we got to go.
🌻This was so much fun! Thank you, Tank *Hugs him and leaves a kiss on his cheek*
🧨Aww, quit butterin’ me up! You know I’d do anything for you, Maddie!
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piratejenna · 2 years
Text
Prompt: fic that made you like a character / ship
Title: A Match Made in Neo-Olde Tokyo
Author: Feriku
Fandom: Ace Attorney
Rating: Teens and Up
Word Count: 31719
Summary: There was nothing wrong with being a fan of the Steel Samurai, but as a grown man, an ex-convict, and a prosecutor with a knack for being the scariest guy in the room in any given situation, Simon Blackquill had no plans to admit his love of the show to anyone... until a certain spirit medium entered his life.
As for Maya Fey, what were the chances she'd meet a REAL samurai, and one willing to watch the Steel Samurai with her, at that? Talk about a reason to celebrate--burgers, anyone?
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Alright, it is time to share one of my only romance centric fic recs!
A quick intro: I got into Ace Attorney back in 2020 and was immediately sucked in (you can tell by my current writing interests). I adore this series and its characters. However, I'm not really interested in the shipping content. In general, I’m rarely interested in ships, and I tend to like them as background or subplot as opposed to being the focus.
Enter A Match Made in Neo Olde Tokyo.
Simon and Maya are both characters that, while I like fine, have never really been my favorites. So, when I stumbled across the idea of them together and for some reason indulged my impulse to see if there was any fic for them, I wasn't really sold. However, barely one chapter into Match Made, and I was onboard.
The author, Feriku, does an incredible job building the relationship between these two, initially as friends, before moving towards romance. Easily my favorite thing about it is the focus placed on why they like hanging out together. By the time they're both starting to question if they like each other and if they're dating, you the reader have been completely convinced that they would be good together.
And, just as a personal thing, I really like that the focus of the fic keeps the focus there, despite the main characters being adults. It's not a relationship built on physical attraction and the story isn't just about waiting for them to kiss or whatever. It's more about waiting for them to share how they feel with each other and commit to being in a relationship. Which, as someone who isn't big on romance as a genre to begin with, is fantastic for me.
This fic also honestly fits the other side of this prompt. I wasn't really invested in Simon's character before, but the way he's written here is really fun. There's a great balance between some of his image being an act he puts on and some of it being genuine. Plus, there's so much great Steel Samurai stuff in here, which is always a plus to see people expand on.
All around, it's a sweet fic, and I'd recommend any Ace Attorney fans interested to check it out!
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