#fuck you. computer explosion be upon ye
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the demons are telling me to compress the paflshrine gallery's image previews to further reduce loading times and well. lets just say im not listening
#if i did give in id obv have the high res versions very available#bc thats the point of paflshrine!!#i love posting about my bad website choices i hope that someone who knows what theyre doing follows me and gets suicidal every time#fuck you. computer explosion be upon ye#paflshrine#schizobabble#maybe when im on break I'll finally sit down and write some character bios.. or even lore..#or maybe ill just keep tweaking tiny things LMAO#ahh dont look at paflshrine rn i think i was halfway thru adding another section to lore like 3 weeks ago and never finished#<-the most pathetic adhdboy to ever host a fansite
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GROUND ZERO [IMPORT]
↳ ❝ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 / 𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐊 !❞
pairings: yandere! bf! katsuki + yandere! harem! bnha + ocs x rich inventor! gn! reader
warnings: soft! katsuki. snob reader.
↳ DATING BAKUGOU KATSUKI WAS AN EXPERIENCE AND A HALF.
To [Y/N], most of it was getting relentlessly scolded and nagged upon by the explosive persona. Bickering was the usual. Both enjoyed honesty after all, or maybe it was just a sadomasochistic dynamic that only they would understand.
Sometimes — although he may argue that it was backwards — they would have sweet quiet moments.
Underneath the orange sky, they would lay down after some heated training matches and just enjoy each other’s presence.
Not a word was spoken, nor was it needed to be said.
”Oi, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Katsuki glared at the camera within [Y/N]’s hands. He wasn’t familiar with electronics really, all he needed was his phone and computer at times. However, he had the feeling that whatever his significant other was using should definitely cost a fortune.
”Taking a damn photo so it’ll last longer” [Y/N] beamed as they imitated one of Katsuki’s words early on in the relationship.
Their propinquity started around late middle school, and boy did Katsuki soften the following years.
”What’re ya staring at?!” Katsuki snarled at his masked partner. He couldn’t see the upper half of their face, but considering that their head had been turned towards him for several minutes? He had to fill in the silence.
”A boy named Bakugou Katsuki?” [Y/N] tilted their head in confusion. In contrast to their tone in the present day, their words came out as robotic and excessively formal.
The heir also had their own personality differences between the years of dating. The previous [Y/N] was ruthless, and reveled in the pain — of whatever form — in others.
They still did now, but having Katsuki to tease 24/7 made it less apparent.
The said boy blushed at the straightforward confession, ”Take a damn photo. It’ll last longer.”
After the couple took their fair share of rest, they set off to Katsuki’s home. Orange sky now darker shade of blue as the sun made its leave as well. ”Tch. We’re going to be late for dinner, [L/N]. Hurry your ass up.”
”Coming. . . coming. . .” [Y/N] groaned. Katsuki did a number on their equipment. Most have been charred or just completely obliterated, including their portal and wormhole making gadgetry. This meant that they had to lug around all the weapons — yes, I mean actual weapons — that they’ve been launching at their boyfriend. And, [Y/N] being the spoiled brat that they were, definitely did not like having to exert physical effort. But, oh well, it was just another normal day at the park for these two. They should have been more prepared.
Why throw weapons instead of using practical things like lazers and the such? Well you see, [Y/N] might just be a huge fan of certain characters in F*te and H*nk*i Imp*ct. They couldn’t help it.
And if you’re wondering how they’re able to practice with Katsuki using his quirk in public, it’s money. In addition to the fact that [Y/N]’s family probably ‘owned’ the majority of Japan if not just having a major influence in it. “Is Mitsuki making beef stew tonight?”
”We’re making beef stew.” Katsuki reached for the claymore above [Y/N]’s pile, thinking of how disastrous it’d be if it somehow falls off and stabs them or a person in their vicinity.
”B-b—“
”No buts. Maybe if you learned how to properly use a knife you wouldn’t cut yourself so fucking much. I managed to convince the old hag to let us be, too. She will not be coming to your rescue.” He grimaced at the memory of his mother bending towards your requests. She loved you and it shows.
”If—“
”No ifs either. You won’t burn down the building. Think the old hag hasn’t explosion and fire proofed the whole place?”
”How about—“
”A kiss won’t change your fate.” Katsuki scowled at their attempt in bribery. Like he’d be the type to give in just because of a simple kiss? What did they think he was? A simp? He needed to teach them how to stop being a spoiled brat. What if their family’s money went down the drain? They needed to learn how to be independent. “Just shut it—“
He is quickly silenced by a quick kiss to the corner of his lips. “F-Fine!”
”You and your stupid pouting, stupid cute fucking face — and those stupid pretty lips. . .”
”Love you, Ba-ku-go-u-san!” [Y/N] created a heart shape with their arms, basking in their tiny victory for the day.
“Tch.” Katsuki gritted his teeth, ”Love you, too. [L/N].”
”T-they’re so different when they’re together. . .” A goon — [Y/N] referred to Katsuki’s other companions as that due to the power difference in their dynamic — finally spoke up after numerous hours of being ignored.
”Right????” Another goon replied to the comment, equally baffled by the lovey-doveyness of it all.
[Y/N]’s demeanor immediately switched at moment they noticed the cronies’ presence. Speech devoid of all emotion or interest, ”Eh, you two were still here?”
Katsuki wasn’t an exception to the change either, his face morphing into the usual grouchy one he seemed to wear every damn moment, “WHY ARE YOU EXTRAS STILL FOLLOWING US HUH?! BUNCHA STALKERS!”
The two boy’s accompanying the couple froze up in fear, “Totally different!”
©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagine#yandere oc#yandere bnha#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#bnha#boku no hero academia x reader#yandere bnha x reader#bnha harem x reader#harem x reader#yandere fic#yandere oc x reader#yandere x you#yandere blog#yandere mha x reader#bnha x you#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha x you#izuku x reader#shouto x reader#yandere izuku#yandere shouto#yandere todoroki#todoroki x reader#tw yandere#yandere various#various bnha
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Hi! Doll anon from awhile back who requested the Jervises (Jervii?) reacting to an S/O who's literally a mechanical life-sized doll, and 'taking care of' her abusive creator. Can I get the same scenario for BTAS and 2022 Penguin, where she's very uncanny (you can hear her gears turning, she turns her head the wrong way, etc.) but loves them dearly? Bonus points for how they'd deal with her creator trying to take her away!
"A Real Doll and Her Unfortunate Past" BTAS and 2022 Penguin x F!doll!s/o
Man, that one was a while ago, huh? Almost like I need to start getting faster on these LOL. But fuck yes we love the uncanny mechnical doll bride!
TW: dolls/dollplay, body horror, Murder, implied abuse, being fed to animals
BTAS Penguin
Rather fascinated! He'd grown up with a spectacular amount of old clocks, clocks with exposed cogs all about him as a child. To see such machinations powering a physical being... It's difficult to see where the doll ends and the person begins. In his mind they're almost separate entities. But that would be rude to say, so he's just not going to.
Briefly he wonders if he could make more "dolls" to do his bidding for him- and then nervously laughs as she ribs him for even thinking of such a thing. Of course, dear, no one could ever be as special as you anyways, dear.
He would love to see the inner parts! Like walking into a clock tower. Seeing every intricate working that makes her heart beat for him. There's something quite romantic in that, isn't there? The most prized of all treasures in Gotham and she chooses to be with him!
So when she sees a man in a crowd and looks frightened. Oh no, that won't do at all. He's thinking of the ways to take care of this when the man has the unmitigated gall to approach them! Grabbing her arm, almost ripping the sleeve of her dress. Telling her she must come home at once, or there will be grave consequences.
Oswald is quick to act, pointing the business end of his umbrella towards the man's gut. He tries to remember which one he packed today. It wasn't lethal, he knows that. The Creator calls him a loathsome little toad and to back away from his Precious Girl. Oswald fires and a small fireworks explosion erupts, burning the man and temporarily blinding him.
It gives them just enough time to escape, his doll in tears and begging not to be returned to that cruel man. That if he loved her, he wouldn't. That he would "shut her down" before considering it! Oswald calms her. She's never going to have to worry about him ever again.
There are some people in Gotham who owe him a favor... It's simple enough. Have his doll safely watching via computer feed set up by the Completely Non-Egotistical Edward Nygma and Pamela Isley in his dolls clothes. They were only too happy to help after hearing about the situation.
Pamela lured the man in, paralyzing him with her kiss. He might realize it's a rather large aviary he's been led to. Paralyzing him meant Oswald could show the man the true meaning of fearing for his life as his darling did seeing him. He has a very specific collection of birds who are going to feast upon his flesh over time.
She can choose to watch. Choose to leave the room. Whatever she likes. Oswald will be sure to confirm the man's death for her so she never has to fear again.
2022 Penguin
At first, he's genuinely freaked out over the real doll thing. What in the goddamn... Nothing against it! The first time she turns her head backwards, though, he is going to scream about it for at least ten minutes. Warn a fucking guy! Scared the hell outta him!
He does not want to see the inner workings. This is not to say he's frightened or ashamed or any negative feelings about it, per say. It's just. Something about the parts and pieces moving and he thinks about how fragile it all is. How one piece not moving could stop her from moving at all. He doesn't want to get his big mitts anywhere near that. She's too important.
People talk, unfortunately. Word gets about, especially when your girlfriend doesn't quite realize how uncanny and different she is about people. It all leads to a man arranging a meeting with him, a suitcase full of money to give him in return "for what's his." The man states that she's his ward, that her escaping is the product of faulty programming on his part. That she must be returned and that he'll offer even more money.
Oswald thinks on it. He calls her in. If the look of horror on her face wasn't telling enough, seeing the things she was carrying in her hands clatter to the floor was a sure sign. She sputtered, asking how he found her. The Creator merely replied he was taking her home, that he had given Oswald money for her. The heartbroken look in her eyes...
"Woah, hey, I never said we had a deal." Oswald iterates. He motions with his hands for the doors to be shut. When the creator takes out a gun, Oswald already has his own pointing to the back of the man's skull.
"Wanna do the honors, sweetheart?" He asks the doll. Whether she takes him up on it or not, this man, this creator won't leave the room alive. Anyone who causes that much fear in someone he cares about, someone he loves... They're good as fucking dead. He doesn't need a reason.
Though he's ready to listen to her when she's ready to share.
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Seeing Red
/
Being Green
Green Arrow finds himself in Central City on a one man hunt after me sleeking through the shadows of the city. I stand waiting in the darkness as he lands in building in the south of town.
The building high above me is brimming in white moon light washing his body in a glow and I am enamor with him his right hand in a rush. Grappling an arrow lining it up with his bow and launching it.
The arrow dashing across the sky hits dead on to the brick wall behind me in a splendid example of true marksmanship. Truly a feat to be applaud so I did to his dismay walking in to the light.
I reach for the arrow breaking it in half stir him on as he shoots another and hooks his quiver on to the rope sliding down to meet me face to face. “Well…well not the hero I was expecting but glad to see I occupy your mind.” My voice calm in response.
“Oliver Queen welcome to your doom this is the night you will learn true defeat.”
“Take a gander at your surroundings”
“This is some sort of illusion”
“Hardly! Welcome to your nightmare”
“What the fuck is this?”
“Do you remember the island you were trapped on?”
“You are lying, it can’t be and this is impossible “
“Improbable maybe but impossible I doubt it”
“Take a look around enjoy the natural scent and the beauty of nature.”
The door opens up a strange laboratory as I walk in flipping on the switch revealing our hero. The room is high technological wonder unseen to anyone but me.
Oliver Queen is literally strap down on to a chair with chains around him and a helmet shape like a crown adorns his head.
Two leads are attached to his face for the major experiment it is upon him a visual display of his worst nightmare come to life.
A explosion erupts out of nowhere sending him flying in to the air his mind is fired up with electrical current.
“Mr. Queen you can make this easy for your city and this city as well.”
“You better run Oliver four hoards of this isle of thugs are on their way.”
“Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?”
The lights flash on alerting me to someone on my compound, the cc television rolls on with footage of The Flash.
Barry spins underground digging his way under my building he zooms upward spins in front of me.
Barry speeds over the me landing in Oliver’s face, unties Oliver helping him upward and takes him out.
“Gallant entrance but feeble attempt at a escape.”
“You know how the saying goes how birds and all that”
“You dare to fight us both?”
“Oliver rise to your feet”
“Yes Master”
“Look at me “
“This man is trying to prevent me from any success.”
“What are you going to do?”
“No Oliver break free”
“Eliminate him”
“Exactly! Correct this issue”
“Computer code Red Arrow”
“Commencing and correcting”
“Laser light springs on”
“Room glows up in a purple phase “
“Battle arena begins “
“May I beat him Master?”
“Break his bones”
“Olive no …… please”
My mind is roaming with new ideas as I hit another button and I leave the rooms with great intent.
The door slip close with a fiery passion in a hot ember fire overtaking the room fire shot out.
Surrounding the room in fiery pitch Barry is giving in suddenly his mind locks out sent him back in time.
He watches his mothers death over and over again at the hands of the monstrous Reverse Flash.
Barry loses it the electrical power of the speed force burns out pouring with red and yellow hue.
Barry unleashes a large barrage of attacks on to bin sending Oliver flying in to air and. attack him head on.
“Good job! Oliver destroy him”
“Eviscerate him”
“Your friend has been hacked forever by me”
“A mountain full of money and power”
“I am his Master”
“Sir Yes Sir”
“You failed this city”
“Your days have come to end”
“Submit or die”
“Look up to wall next to you a draw opens”
“Inside it is a quiver and red bow”
“Load on to the bow and steady “
“Pull the bow and let it go”
“Dead on center”
“Showcase your talent “
“Mwahahaha”
“Aaaaaahhhhh….Oliver”
Barry’s eyes turn red hot lifting foot on to the oncoming wall and sped from wall to wall.
- Boom -
“Master Lawrence at your service”
“I will obey my king”
The end
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Right Time, Wrong Place.
Pairing: John Seed x Reader
Rating: M (SMUT!! & Language)
Description: You take over John Seed’s ranch, have some me time in his bed, only to find that he was watching the whole thing on his secret security cameras.
Tagged: @ivyluv
You had wanted revenge and you were determined to get it. It was as simple as that. Granted capturing John Seed's Ranch was just another box ticked for the resistance effort's chances of winning back Hope County, but for you? it was personal. The man stuffed you in a chair, tortured your best friend, and threatened to cut into your skin. To make matters worse, he looked like a whole damn meal while doing it. Speaking to you in that sinfully deep and rumbling tone that made you wet beyond imagine. Fuck that son of a bitch. Whoever stuffs you in a chair, tortures your friend, and threatens to cut you, loses their ranch. That's the deal, and it's final.
His response:
So. You've taken my home in the name of your little "Resistance." Ah, if those walls could talk... well, more accurately scream... Just know that I will get it back - sooner or later. And when I do, maybe I'll hang your skin as a trophy above the mantle.
You raided John's secret wine cellar later that day, laughing your ass off over the recollection of irritation in John's voice. All it took was a little push to send the man snapping into rage and oblivion.
You invaded all of John's privacy; following the wine cellar, came his office, following the office, came his kitchen, and then his own room. Everything was so neat and organized, the man didn't have one thing out of place. It was a testament in comparison to his unruly image when he would lose a few screws in agitation. His clothes were folded to perfection, placed into his drawers by color, style, or brand. For the clothes that weren't in his drawers, they were in his walk in closet; Gucci, Calvin Klein, Tom Ford O'Conner, and Brioni. The man was a walking advertisement, from his sunglasses to his shoes. You were certain that the outfit you had seen him in last costed about the same as your car in total. And now you had full access to everything...
"What the FUCK is she doing?!" John fumed, pacing back and forth in front of security monitors that lined the wall of his bunker office.
"Sir, we are doing everything we can-"
"Get out!" He demanded, bloodshot eyes settling on the screen, sweat beading down his forehead, as he watched you demolish his personal space. The bunker door shut behind him with an audible plank and he sunk back into a leather seat with a sigh of exasperation. You were driving him absolutely crazy: waltzing around his home as if it was your own, with his most expensive bottle of chardonnay no less.
You were throwing pictures off the walls, moving furniture around, and wrecking his entire wardrobe with your slimey fingers. He was under distress simply watching it all unfold before his eyes, the massacre, the trauma, his beloved ranch was being destroyed. What would Joseph think of him right now? So distraught over the material pleasures that he had collected for himself over the years. They were really all he had anymore, aside from his family and the project. You were disrespecting him, but it's not like you hadn't before. Countless times you had undermined him for the sake of your little act as hero, nothing he hadn't gotten used to these past few weeks. He enjoyed the game of cat and mouse, the playful chase, but this? This was personal...
*Uh yeah so, Sharky and I are having a big bonfire out by the henbane. Some of the others will be there, you coming?*
"No thanks, Hurk..." You replied with a proud smile on your lips, fiddling with the many cologne bottles that flooded John's dresser. "I think I'll stay here. I'm enjoying myself."
*Well, that's-* Hurk was interrupted on the other end by the familiar voice of a pyromaniac on steroids. *Is that the deputy?! Tell her to get her ass over here, now, so we can start this party.* There was minor shuffling on the other end, the radio clicked out a few times as if it was being wrestled for. *Give it, man!-Stop that!* You chuckled at the image of Hurk and Sharky fighting over a walkie talkie in the middle of the batshit woods. You laughed at what Hurk Sr. was probably thinking of the whole ordeal as he watched from his porch.
"Alright boys, well, I'm staying here for the night so, catch ya' later." You immediately switched the frequency, dropping it down onto the dresser. You collected the bottle of wine you had discarded in John's wardrobe, taking long gulps of it as you took note of his belongings. The entire place smelled like him, you had only caught a whiff when he was devastatingly close to when you were captive, but it was enough to recognize the hints of sharp Dior, new shoes, and rose. The man was a sin in the flesh and he knew it all too well, recruiting to the cult hundreds of people that most certainly lusted after him in private. He would have had a hold on you if he hadn't had been pressing a scalpel to your throat, or sending off a bunch of red flags with that psychotic glimmer in his eyes.
You could imagine though, fuel your darkest desires and daydreams as you stormed his castle. The wine helped, you had gone through half of the bottle as you adventured and you were starting to feel its effects. In your dreams, John was your lover. He was still a lawyer with the same successful edge and fortune to boot. He wasn't a crazy lunatic, following a bunch of other crazy lunatics. He was a man that fought for true justice, just as you had. And now, you were waiting for him to come home. You nearly dropped the bottle in your intense reverie. You carried the bottle into John's giant bathroom, you placed it on the edge of the tub, and turned the water on.
The grime stuck to you from the days events; the mud had caked on, gunpowder dusting your face, and blisters, cuts and bruises, scattered across your body. For a moment, it brought you back into the harsh reality that you were in a war zone. That John was a dangerous man and that you were utilizing his home like some sort of fun house. You shook the thoughts of blood and violence from your mind, derobing yourself of the dirty clothes and weapons that hung from you. When the water was shallow enough, you turned it off, dropping one of John's assorted bath bombs into it and waiting a few seconds for the soap to take. You couldn't remember the last time you had taken a bath and John's bathtub was about the size of a hottub.
You were in the bliss, the warm water engulfed your aching muscles and damaged flesh without hesitation, welcoming you into a trance of tranquility and calm. No bullets. No explosions. No expectations. Just you and this bath. Your mind wandered again as you rested in the lapping liquid, dirt and all sorts of substances leaving you like a weight being lifted off your chest. You could fantasize about John again, get back into the dream world you had created for yourself as you explored his home-correction; As you waited for John Seed to come home from his job as Hope County's trustworthy, kind, and loving lawyer.
You lathered yourself with all sorts of special products that John kept perched on the tub's edge. You took fluid swigs from the nearly empty bottle of wine every now and again, until you decided you were clean enough. John could be home any minute after all. You stepped out of the tub, pulled the plug on the drain, and left the bathroom into the closet again. Not without what was left of the wine, of course. He would want to see you in something appealing on the eyes, something that would tease him and draw him in from a long day of exhausting work. You could massage his taut shoulders, fingers moving down over those rippling muscles.
You settled for an expensive silk blue button up, no need for underwear with no one around. The button up was slightly open at the top, not that you'd be expecting any company-aside from John, that was. You flicked the light off and the room cascaded in darkness, aside from the moonlight that drew in through the blinds. John would enjoy seeing you like this. You jumped onto the bed; so big and comfy. The pillows seemed to swallow you with their fluff, douvet and all, tracing along your curves and exposed thighs. You adjusted so that your head was propped back and you were comfy, legs parted as you closed your eyes and sunk further into the dream you had created.
If John was normal, he would be gentle and soft. He would run his fingers down you when he arrived upon your shared bedroom. He would whisper sweet nothings into your ear as his dirty hands came over every bit of flesh on your body. He would seek your pleasure first, attend to your needs and wants, because you would look, Oh, so sinful. It was almost like you could hear his voice in your mind. He wasn't yelling at you. He was whispering to you, begging for everything that your body could give him. He would praise you like the God he worshipped, settle on his prayer voice when he spoke to you and made the filthiest promises.
You want me to do this to you, don't you? Touch you like this? Spread you like this?
"Yes," You mewed, you wanted him so bad. "Please."
...
"Dear, sweet mother of-" John choked out, face nearly sinking straight through the computer screen and he leaned in as close as was possible. He was so close that the static was barely electrifying the thick hairs of his beard. "Fuck me." He was straining in his jeans watching you get so comfy in his home. He wished he could hear you, cursing himself for not having installed more advanced cameras, as Jacob had suggested months ago. Thank the lord, they were hidden from sight. Thank the lord, that he had the opportunity to see you so vulnerable.
He bit his bottom lip nervously. What would Joseph say? Giving into sin like a moth to the flame. His eyes flitted over to the walkie talkie that sat on the desk. It was begging to be used, begging for John to do something that was reckless and sinful and dirty and everything he could be punished for if he tried. He groaned as he watched your hand finally reach its destination, your eyelids fluttering shut as you rubbing gently along your folds. The black and grey could only give away so much in this darkness. The night vision feature only worked to such an extent. Even so, John couldn't tear his eyes away. You were in HIS bed, in HIS clothes, after taking a bath with products that smelled like HIM. You were practically his at this point. All his.
...
You were so close, thinking about John, about his fingers on you, about his cock inside of you, about his lips passing over every deeply intimate spot on your body. You could feel the edge coming for you, as his scent penetrated you, as you felt the silk of his shirt against your nipples. You cried out, so close.
"Oh, John, fuck." You were alone, filled with careless abandon, delving deeper into this madness that was him. You were a second away from the most explosive orgasm you had had in weeks.
*Deputy...* You paused, feeling a cold sweat fall over you at the coo. Your eyebrows furrowed as you sat up on your elbows, eyes landing on the discard walkie talkie that you had left behind on the dresser. You worried at your bottom lip in frustration. You were so fucking close. *I know you are there. Speak to me.* You should ignore him. But how could anyone ignore John when he sounded like that; desperate, disheveled, and hot. He sounded of so hot and sweet. You dropped back into the pillow with a grunt, thinking that you could turn the radio off and be through with these constant disturbances. *Please.* Desperate, disheveled, hot. So, hot.
In one swoop, you jumped off the bed and attained the radio. You drew it up to your lips with a huff, fists clenched from the sheer rage that was building in you.
"What the fuck do you want, John? If this isn't about the negotiated release of Hudson, then I don't want anything to do with you." You waited for John's response, as it was suddenly very quiet on his end. Usually he spoke more, teased you more, threatened you more. Heck, just earlier he said he would get you back.
*This isn't about that.* His tone was of venom and annoyance now, which only sought to make you more irritated.
"Then, I don't see there being any reason to continue talking with you."
*Wait!* He sounded strained, as if she had broken him. *I can think of a few reasons.* Of course, he wants his house back. Poor fellow. You rushed and plopped back down onto the bed, a bright grin appearing on your lips.
"Oh John, Oh John," You taunted, feeling like you should run a victory lap for your achievement. Instead, you enveloped yourself in all of John's wealth and money. "Have I affected you in some kind of way?" Silence. "Little ole'me, in your home, all comfy in your bed, using your things. Sounds like I have gotten to you." The strangled groan that was relayed over the radio went straight between your legs. You had heard John groan out his irritation before and although this sounded slightly different, you hadn't thought anything of it. It wouldn't hurt to continue what you were doing before John's interruption. God knows you were still so close, thinking about him. He didn't need to know.
*You must have it all wrong, Deputy. The idea of you taking pleasure in my belongings brings a smile to my face.* The playful back and forth was a favorite of yours, you wouldn't lie. You never quite had the same interactions as you did with Jacob and Faith, both of whom would often ignore your jests completely. John reacted, he would give you his utter attention everytime you entered his region. You bathed in that sort of acknowledgement. You were now on the path of admitting that it kind of got you off; hearing his frustrations, hearing him coo, hearing him reciprocate every remark you gave him.
He liked it too. You knew he liked it.
"I'm such a bad sinner, aren't I?" You closed your eyes, free hand now coming down to the place you needed it most. A new fantasy had taken root, of John pleasuring himself as he spoke to you, getting off on your voice, off on his fantasies of you. On any other night, you couldn't imagine him breaking Joseph's rules to do such a thing. But tonight you wanted to imagine everything about John. He would be fisting his cock to the sound of you disobeying him at every turn, speaking into the radio, every word you spoke he clung to like a last breath. Tonight, you imagined him doing this: being sinful and breaking the rules in your honor. He would be relieving the tension that plagued you both for so long in his mind. He was no longer the sweet and gentle husband, coming home from work. He was the filthy, dirty, lusty lawyer that was your enemy; grasping for a chance to get you alone, so he could have you to himself.
*I should punish you...* You moaned at the pit of your throat, making sure he couldn't hear by removing your finger from the button. You were going to cum to the sound of John's voice and he didn't even know it. It was mildly empowering, feverish, and naughty, all at the same time. *I should tie you down and make you pay for all the wrongs you've committed. Make you confess all of your deepest, darkest secrets.*
"Oh, fuck." You heaved out, not having expected him to blindly play into this raunchy game of yours. The image of him, drowning in your conversations over the radio, as he milked his thick cock, flooded your mind. His button-up would be fully undone to reveal the mess of sweaty abs and tattoos across his torso. His hair would be falling out of its gelled, angelic perfection as strands drifted across his half-lidded eyes. The veins in his forearms would be bulging as he utilized his strength to work at the stress you caused him, in the form of a hard erection. You swore you heard him release some sort of sound from the other side of the radio. You hadn't quite been in the right state of mind to respond, but you were desperate to keep him talking.
"Tell me, John. You make all these promises and you don't keep them." You hadn't expected your words to come out so smoothly, what with your fingers now penetrating you just the way you liked. "If you wanted to punish me so bad, tie me down and make me confess, then you'd have me right this very second."
*I could, Deputy.* He shot out, all breathless and choppy. It only made your imagination run even wilder, that he might be doing what you were thinking he would doing. But he couldn't really be doing that, could he? *All I need to do is say one word and I can have you yanked from my bed in no time.* The thought of him sending in a team to come fetch you was about to do you in. The though of him wasting resources, time and energy, all so that he could alleviate his personal desires. You were about to cum so hard for him, so hard just by listening to his every word. You thought it was over, like his radio would go silent and that would be the end of it all. *But I much prefer it this way...* There was a hint of something deeply sinister in the low growl he spoke in. You wanted more of it, more of him. Your back arched up, and your finger slid over the button unbeknownst to you. He could hear the spill of moans and cries that were building up to the ultimate fall over the peak you had been climbing toward. And then he kept talking. *Seeing you all spread out for me, wearing my shirt, pleasing yourself to the thought of me fucking you into that mattress. Oh-ho-ho, Deputy~ You are so beautiful, when you are vulnerable.* He moaned each word with promise. You could hardly hear him groaning and sputtering out curses over the radio as you came on your fingers. You hadn't yet truly realized the sincerity of his words and the trouble that came with them. You were so lost to pleasure and the ecstasy that flowed through your body. The images of John's cum falling onto his sweaty stomach as his body rose and fell with each painful breath. The thought of him losing himself to you in the night, as you spoke to one another, shrouded in darkness, with only yourselves to know of the sins that occurred.
You waited a few minutes, attempting to catch your breath and yourself, coming down from the high that your body had been craving for so long. It was only then, as you had once been blissfully ignorant of the gravity of your situation, that your body jolted up.
But I prefer it this way, seeing you all spread out for me, wearing my shirt, pleasing yourself to the thought of me fucking you into that mattress...
Oh shit. You fucked up. Your eyes nervously searched the room, even in the darkness, what was there to see. The radio still in hand, you sprinted into the closet and shoved yourself under a set of John's hanging clothes. What were you doing?! Oh shit! You need to run! You need to grab your clothes and your weapons and you need to get out of here. Quick! What did you do?! He saw everything.
Oh-ho-ho, Deputy. You are so beautiful, when you are vulnerable.
*Oh, Deputy~* He sung with a light chuckle lilting the edge of his name for you. You felt a stain in your chest, of embarrassment, of guilt, of a diminishing pride and self-esteem. *There's no reason to be so shy all of a sudden.* Your forehead hit the palm of your hand.
You needed to react, get the fuck out of dodge, never come to the valley ever again. Nick and Mary and the Pastor had control over the situation, you could just fucking disappear. Why don't you jump into a void? Never return to Hope County even. Just leave forever. Did they make spaceships for extremely scarred and embarrassed common folk who wanted to get the hell off earth? Note to self, ask Hurk if he knows any aliens that could catch you a ride to the nearest infinity away from here. Fuck yourself. Fuck this. Fuck.
You hadn't even realized that John was still talking.
*Because I like you so much, I will even consider this an official confession. Wrath AND Lust.* You could hear the sickening grin of satisfaction. *Who would have thought that my little Deputy was so...* You were so unbelievably fucked. *Sinful?* Gunshots started to sound nearby, coming from outside the ranch, where resistance fighters had gathered to guard the newly acquired outpost. *I know I'm asking too much of you, my darling.* Your jaw dropped at the kindred and sweet way in which he spot the new pet name. *Just rest for now. You must be exhausted from the day's events.* You needed to get out of here, but you couldn't bring yourself to move. You were frozen with a whole course of unsettling emotions. *It's not easy to carry the entirety of a pathetic resistance effort on your shoulders.* And he sounded so loving, so tender, you had never in a thousand years thought you would ever hear John speak to you in such a way. *Don't worry, I will be home shortly.*
Return to Prompts
#john seed x reader#reader#farcry 5#faith seed#jacob seed#john seed#joseph seed#john seed's ranch#resistance#the project#edens gate#mutual pining
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Villainsicle - Part 14
Thanks to everyone for all the comments on the last part, and especially to @the-polari-person for the memes they made. Everyone really wants to punch Medic, and I think this part will reinforce that. I hope you enjoy!
Taglist:
@whatwhumpcomments
@sola-whumping
@professional-idiocy
@trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room
@literally-just-kirby
@the-polari-person
@teachunks
@daydreamed-snippets-2nd-blog
@sunflower1000
@lightdrinker-blog
@regalwritten
CW//Whumpee liking whumper, pet whump, dehumanization, conditioned whumpee, orders, implied past torture, mentions of death, mentions of execution, arguing, conspiracy
Traitor ran their fingers affectionately through Villain’s hair.
“An Asset can be far greater than any weapon you may have ever yielded in the past. I am sure you have all heard of the incident suffered by our late former Asset Coordinator, but any equipment can malfunction.
I assure you, the risk is worth it. May they rest in peace. But, a well-trained Asset is just as dangerous as a well-maintained gun. With the right care, it will only harm those who must be harmed.”
The somewhat sorrowful expression that had begun to show through disappeared, replaced by a sharp smirk.
“But words can only do so much. Demonstration is much better. Cadet!”
Villain drew back, nodding firmly their acknowledgement. There was a notable strangeness to their gait, a refusal to put weight on their leg.
“Circumspicio.”
Another firm nod, before they closed their eyes. For a few moments, tense and quiet as they were, their hair rose about their head, writhing like an inferno of serpents. When they at last opened their eyes, their hair did not calm.
“Eight soldier on deck, move left. Two plane on deck. Most soldier sleeping, in dorm. Supervillain talk to Department Head. Assets in kennel.”
“Where is Ali Silica?”
“Ali Silica, in kitchen, drink water.”
“Maximilian Kesim.”
“Maximilian Kesim, in dorm. Sleep.”
“Ella Jacklin.”
“Ella Jacklin, on deck. Has weapon. Guard door 24.”
“Good.” Traitor’s gaze returned to stare forth. “My Asset may not be particularly useful in situations of combat, but it is invaluable for recon and scouting. They can see through our cameras, our computers, all of it. And in an enemy base? Every enemy movement can be mapped. I can’t count how many times it has saved my life.
It is the most valuable Asset we have. Usually, we would not be doing something like this. But, my Asset is currently off duty due to an injury. And thus, welcome to the course.”
Again, they laid their hand atop Villain’s head.
They smiled.
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Villain looked at the camera.
That was all Counselor could look at, all they could notice. The other action on screen was immediately rendered irrelevant to them.
No. They could only see those eyes.
The same eyes they’d spent the last weeks gazing back at, in person and picture alike. At the very least, they were the same eyes, on the same person. In every physical sense, Villain was the same.
But...
They were happy. Maybe they weren’t, maybe it was just a trick of the light... But, no, no matter how Counselor squinted, what they told themself, they could not ignore that fact. Villain’s eyes glimmered with contentment, pressing their head into Traitor’s hand, who stroked their hair affectionately.
There was nothing fake, nothing practiced, about that warmth. It was just as real as the sorrowful or fearful expressions that Counselor had seen on Villain’s face so often. The only ones they ever seemed to show.
They were happy. Why were they happy? Ordered about, spoken about like an object... And why were they talking like that? They were generally rather quiet, but they never seemed to struggle with their speech.
It wasn’t until Hero spoke up that Counselor realized their mouth had been hanging ajar.
“I...”
Hero was at just as much of a loss for words as they were.
“I don’t know.” Counselor shook their head, frowning. “P-Pause it. Please. I don’t want to see it.”
They did so.
For a long, tense moment, the two sat there, one in the computer chair, the other with their legs dangling off the bed. It was Counselor, who managed to clear their throat first.
“Where did you get this?”
“The flashdrive?”
“Mhm.”
“Leader. Leader gave it to me.”
“Leader?”
“I didn’t... I don’t know. I guess it makes sense?”
“It does, but...” Counselor gripped a clump of blanket in their fist, knuckles quickly turning white. “I, Hero, what the fuck! I don’t know what I expected. Some sort of backstory, certainly, but... What did Traitor do to them?”
It wasn’t the type of explosive tone that they often took, but they couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help but release the furious flame burning in their chest, its smoke scratching their throat.
“I don’t know.” Hero shook their head. “What is the, the Asset program? That wasn’t a thing when we worked for them, was it?”
“No. No, I don’t think so. I certainly never heard of it.”
“Me neither.”
“You think...”
“Do I think that’s why Leader looks like they’re about to faint whenever you so much as mention Villain? Absolutely! You’d think they would have told us.”
“I- I guess. What is there even to say? What was that even about?”
“It certainly wasn’t meant for an uninformed audience. Something about... training? Training assets?”
“That’s what Villain was, weren’t they? An... Asset.”
“I think so. A... A forced soldier. Traitor was treating they like a fucking dog.”
“Yeah.” Hero nodded.
“And...”
“An incident. What were they saying about an incident?”
“Someone died. The way they were talking about it, I think. Someone died. Whoever tried to make videos about this beforehand? An... Asset Coordinator?”
“That’s certainly what it sounded like.”
Counselor tried to release the grip they held on the blanket, but found themself unable. Tension and fury kept their muscles clenched, blood pounding their ears, even as they did little more than sit.
“Were they ever really a villain at all?” They finally whispered. “In the video, it was all orders. They were just following orders. We’ve been treating them like a villain this whole time, but-”
“I think we need to see more.” Hero interrupted. “We need to- We need to know. How long until this flashdrive mysteriously goes missing?”
“I don’t know.” Counselor bit the inside of their cheek. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t. I need to-”
“You really should. We should.”
“I know. I know. But I need to see Villain.”
“Oh.”
“You watch, okay? I’m going to talk to them.”
“About... it?”
“Yeah.” They nodded, before frowning, their gaze becoming downcast. “How long until they mysteriously go missing?”
“Fair enough.”
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“Are you hungry?”
The Asset- no, dammit, Villain looked up as Counselor entered the hospital room. The thoughts, the words of the video refused to stop swirling in their mind, twisting even their inner monologue, now.
The blankets on their bed were turned and tossed about-- either they had tried to get up, or they had not slept well. Neither option was good.
But they were awake now.
“Are you hungry, Villain?” Counselor repeated themself, approaching the bedside. An impulse to straighten the bed linens ran through them, but their hands were full-- they placed the platter down on the table beside the hospital bed.
They took a moment to reply, as if they were unsure whether or not they were expected to speak. They decided upon the former.
“Yes.”
“That’s good. I made you some lunch.”
“Lunch?”
“Y’know, when you eat at noon.”
“I- I know. Sorry. Don’t usually eat lunch.”
“You don’t?”
“Medic says I only need dinner.”
“Oh.” Another wave of furious warmth ran through them, but they let it burn out. It wasn’t the time. “Well, if you’re hungry, I have food for you.”
“Y-Yes. Sorry. Thank you, uh, thank you.”
“Of course.”
Villain sat up, taking the platter from their bedside table. It was a simple arrangement-- with little to no knowledge of what exactly Medic was up to, Counselor had decided to play it safe, making whatever was least likely to upset Villain’s stomach. A sandwich, some yogurt, and some carrots. Simple and small, but food.
Yet, as the former Asset gazed at the plate, they looked almost confused. Genuinely perplexed, staring at an abstract painting.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes! Sorry, I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. What’s wrong?”
“It’s just... This doesn’t look like what Medic has me eat.”
Counselor frowned.
“What does Medic have you eat?”
“Um... Don’t, um.” They furrowed their brow, looking for all the world to be trying to do mental calculus. “Don’t know word, um, I don’t know what it is called. It’s white, and dry. Tastes like chalk.”
At that point, Counselor would have believed it if Villain had told them that Medic was making them eat actual chalk.
“Well... This is something different, for today.”
“Okay.”
Still, the food before them put a confused expression on their face. Eventually, after considering it for a long moment, Villain began to tear pieces off the sandwich, eating them in that manner.
“Villain?”
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Y-Yeah. Yeah. Of course.”
“Do you know someone named Traitor?”
Villain’s hand stopped, halfway through bringing a piece of food to their mouth. They put it back down.
They nodded.
“They didn’t call them that.”
“What did they call them?”
“Trainer.”
“And they called you Cadet.”
Villain’s teeth snapped together, gritting hard enough that they seemed about to crack.
“Yes. I didn’t... I didn’t think you knew.”
“I...” There was no reason to lie. “I didn’t. Not until just a minute ago.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Villain shook their head. “It’s okay.”
“Is it okay if I... Is it okay if I ask you about it?”
Villain frowned for a moment-- looking as though they were actually considering the question. Even as much as Counselor wanted to hear a yes, even the fact that they were thinking it through made them swell with hope.
“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”
“Okay.” They weren’t sure when their voice had grown so quiet, so placating. As though they were whispering in a far larger room. “They called you an Asset. What is that?”
“Um... We were weapons, I think.”
“There were multiple?”
“Mhm.” They nodded, ever so slightly, like their head was locked in place. “Not many made it... They kept us prisoner, for a long time. Before the collapse. Before your rebellion. Said we were useful only as lab rats. Then... Something changed. They decided we were useful. Started training.”
“Training?”
“We didn’t want to fight for them. So we weren’t given a choice.”
“You were... You were there, all that time?”
“When you rebelled, I guess- You didn’t know about us, did you?”
“No.”
“No one did.”
“And then they wanted your help.”
“They didn’t give a choice. I guess there was a choice. You could obey, or...”
“Or?”
“Or kill your handler.”
“What did they-”
“They shot the ones that acted up like that. Said it wasn’t worth losing soldiers over.”
“But you...”
“I-” Their voice hiccuped, catching in their throat. “I didn’t want to. Not at first.”
“They hurt you?”
“Some. I guess. Trainer had a whip. But that wasn’t their style. They needed us intact. They had other ways.”
“Oh.”
Villain turned the conversation about.
“How did you find out?”
“A video.”
“A video?”
More cautiously, this time, Villain ate another piece of sandwich.
“Some kind of training video. We found it on a computer. We took it, from Organization.”
“Oh.”
“You...”
“The one I was in.”
“Yeah.”
Villain’s lips pursed into a thin line. They picked up their plate, putting it back on the nightstand, before throwing aside their blanket.
Their hospital gown was thin and wispy-- they moved aside the fabric covering their lower leg.
A hole. That was the only word that would be in any way appropriate to describe the wound-- a hole, dug out of flesh. Healed and faded, so much so that the scar tissue had turned white, but it was still there. Still horrid enough to make Counselor’s stomach twist with nausea.
“What is...”
“A gunshot.”
“A gun did that?”
“Yeah. Really close up.”
“Oh.”
“Mhm.”
“You were hurt, in the video.”
“Yeah.”
“It was...”
“It was this. I got hurt. Got shot. I couldn’t walk for a long time, couldn’t fight for a lot longer than that. Was stuck in the med bay. But I could walk, so they figured I could do the videos.”
Counselor nodded their understanding, as best as they could manage. Villain recovered the wound.
“Villain?”
“Yeah?”
“You left. Did you leave? On your own?”
“Um... It was more complicated than that.”
“You were rescued?”
They seemed to consider for a moment, before nodding.
“Leader.”
For a split second, Counselor thought they had imagined the word.
“Leader?”
“They saved me. By, um, by shooting me.”
“They...”
“They shot me in the leg.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“I don’t know if you can.” Villain diverted their gaze quickly. “Sorry, that was mean. It’s just, I mean, things were different back then. You have a choice. You left because you wanted to. Because you didn’t believe in what you were doing.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know what I was doing. I guess I had some idea, but, not really. I just did what Train- Traitor said.” Their head lurched upward. “They’re okay, right?”
“What?”
“Trainer. They’re okay, right?”
“I- I guess I don’t know. We haven’t done anything to harm them.”
“Okay. Okay.”
“You... You liked them?”
“I miss them.” They drew their legs to their chest, hugging them. “A lot.”
“You miss them?”
“Mhm.” There was somehow a terribly sorrowful tone to the humming. “I left them. But I miss them.”
“Did you... Did you escape? On your own?”
“I guess.” They straightened their legs back out. “The longer I was in the med bay, the less security there was. After a while, I think they forgot I was there. They just left me there, in that bed. Leader... Did they ever tell you?”
“About what?”
“About what they told me.”
“No. They didn’t even tell us they shot you.”
“They said it, right before they shot me. It was, um, it was an address. They said if I went there, I could get help. Then they shot me.”
“An address?”
“In Oregon. It was the first anyone had spoken to me in, I guess in years, at that point. They spoke around me, but never in English?”
“They didn’t speak English? They did when I was there.”
“Yeah, before they went all evil. Decided they wanted to speak Latin. I didn’t even know that that’s what it was, at the time. I never understood a word of it, still don’t. Then Leader came along, and spoke to me. In a language I knew. And it made me think, think like I hadn’t in such a long time.”
“In the video, in the video they were speaking English.”
“Mhm.” Villain nodded. “That was the second time I’d heard a language I understood. It’s like I woke up, like I’d been sleeping for forever. Like I remembered I was human. And, when the ship got close enough to the West coast...”
“You jumped ship.”
“I almost drowned doing it, too. But I didn’t. And I made it to the address.”
“And that was six months ago.”
“A year ago. I collapsed on a stranger’s doorstep, and they took me in. And... that’s it.”
“That’s it.”
“Mhm.”
They again took the platter, beginning to again pick at their food. Counselor let them eat in silence.
In the end, it was Villain who spoke up.
“Counselor?”
“Yeah?”
“I know Leader wanted to do good. I know they wanted to help. But... if I had the choice. If i could do it all again, I never would have left.”
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“Of course they wouldn’t have. They’re an Asset.”
Medic spoke the words before the door was even fully open, yet Counselor heard them loud and clear, looking up and spinning around.
“Cadet, sedeo.”
The Asset fell without resistance. Medic could not help but clench their fists as they closed the door behind them, approaching their patient’s bed.
The smell of food permeated the room. Real food. Unregulated and unweighted and breaking the rules, breaking the pattern.
“What the actual hell do you think you’re doing?” They spat, turning to Counselor, sitting at Villain’s bedside like some kind of grieving idiot.
“They were hungry.” The response was firm, their adversary’s eyes narrowed. “So I fed them.”
“Did I not tell you that they have very specific feeding requirements?”
“You did.”
“And you don’t care?”
“Not really, no.”
Medic gritted their teeth.
No matter what this idiot excuse for a therapist thought, they weren’t stupid. Allowing them to see Medic’s patient had been a gesture of good will.
They should never have allowed it. They should have known this would happen.
Their plan had been going so goddamn well. Their patient responding to stimuli, to altered variables, as had been expected. As had been planned. As had been rigorously calculated.
And this piece of shit had ruined it. They had thrown off the experiment, the results, all of it!
The symptoms were showing as expected. Every single one of them. They were so damn close to starting the final phase, and now...
“What are you trying to do, Counselor...”
“They were hungry, so I fed them.”
“No, not that. I know you did that. But... all of this. Trying to help them. Trying to fight me. Why?”
“Because you’re hurting them.”
“We already went over this.”
“Well, at the very least, you aren’t helping them.”
“I’m treating them.”
“You’re keeping them alive. That’s it.”
“And what are you trying to do, pray tell?’
“What?”
“Counselor, what the hell is your end goal, here?”
There was no way this excuse for a social worker would see the right side of things, see the same way Medic did. But, at the very least, they could try to make them open their eyes, for once in their goddamn life.
“My end goal is making them better.”
“And then what?”
“What?”
“Say Villain gets better. One hundred percent healed. Then what?”
“Whatever they want.” Counselor drew back their upper lip. “You called them an Asset.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You knew.”
“And I see you do now, as well.”
“You should have told me.”
“You never asked.”
“You still should have told me! How could you have known and not done anything about it?”
Medic clenched their hands into fists.
“Because I was part of Organization. So were you. And Hero, and Leader, and everyone. Remember that were a rebellion. A splinter group.”
“I was part of Organization, and I didn’t know.”
“Well, I did.”
“And you didn’t do anything.”
“Is that what you’re going to bemoan me for, now? Because I didn’t leave as quickly as you? Because I was a department head? Because I didn’t have a chance? Because-”
“Shut up.”
“If this is what you’re going to get on my case about, now?”
“Maybe I am.”
“What about Leader, then? What about-”
“This isn’t about them!”
“They were married to Supervillain!”
“We all got over that a long time ago. If you want a fight, let’s at least do it over something that matters. When Villain is better, and I mean when, I will let them choose what they want to do.”
“Will you?”
“Yes.”
“You said it yourself, they’re a villain. When they were free, on their own, they were hurting people.”
“We can talk about it. Find out why. Help them.”
“And if they don’t want to stop? Are you really planning on just letting them go back out there? Because, what, it makes you feel better about yourself?”
“N- No. I wouldn’t.”
“Then you’d keep them prisoner.”
“Maybe.”
“And they’d stay sick.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because they’re an Asset. How often do you use your powers?”
“I- I don’t know. Once or twice a week?”
“Exactly. They spent months of their life going on daily missions, using their powers. Now they aren’t using them. Now they’re sick.”
“You’re saying...”
“What we’re doing, it’s like trying to keep a Border Collie as a lap dog. They need to use their powers, because they were an Asset. It’s what their brain has gotten used to. We can’t change that. We can’t change the past.”
“They aren’t going to be an Asset again. We aren’t like that. We aren’t Organization.”
Of course, the soft one would say that.
“That’s not what I’m saying. But it’s the only theory that makes sense to me, at this point. And if they have to use their powers anyways, they may as well be helping us.”
“Shut up.”
“I haven’t-”
“Just shut up, okay? You’re talking about them like they’re not even there.”
“They can’t hear us.”
“Wake them up.”
“I will in a moment.” Medic sighed. “Look. I can’t see the future. I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I do know that their training starts tomorrow.”
Counselor gritted their teeth.
“So.” Medic slumped their shoulders. “From tomorrow onwards, you may feed them as you wish.”
It was a sacrifice. Another gesture of good will, of trying to gain trust. They were giving up one variable in their experiment, turning it from a control to something wild, something they couldn’t control.
But, maybe, that was a good thing.
Handing over the experiment to another scientist-- as much as Counselor could be considered a scientist. Passing on the blame. Turning the causation into correlation.
Counselor nodded.
“Okay.”
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Venus
Chapter 1
Summary: As his world faced the near extinction event, Levi Ackerman was coincidentally contacted by his cosmic relative. Unbeknownst to him, they are both alone in the universe as Ackermans. Not going to be replicated just like the others in different worlds, but to disappear once they’ll... die.
p/s another unedited fic soooo yea, please leave out your comments below if u guys wanted to let me continue this!
—
He was sure that the universe is playing his fate all along as if the mysterious void of different celestial bodies is just another speck of reality embedded in humanity’s mind like a whirlwind of eternal misery. Just another mind fuckery, making their species insane and pretty much useless if the world just began and ends in a blink of an eye.
Taking a break from his head aching stupor, he stood up and poured another cup of tea, an Earl Grey, which is safely tucked in a drawer of his domain at the moment for the past 70 years. The owner might have left it there for his pleasure but died like everyone else that was left in the world at the moment.
Sitting back on the swivel chair of the office, his computer— no, supercomputer suddenly gave a message. There is an email, an email and his eyes widened like it’s the most surreal thing that has happened ever since he was born on Earth. Emails er are long gone, and it was replaced by those electronic texts and all of the sudden, another automatic message receiving device has been invented that you immediately receive it to your head via a chip implanted there.
Levi stifled a laugh, much to his chagrin, he grinned silently. He clicked the notification, but his eyes widened when he saw the sender.
Mikasa… Ackerman.
To be honest, he doesn’t know her. He had no relatives with that name, and even if he did somehow, probably she’s on another side of the planet because of her name, which sounds Japanese. But why all of the sudden? Is she even alive? But where?
All those questions suddenly made him shiver when he realized that the Japanese peninsula was obliterated a year ago and the survivors fled into space.
He slowly read the letter, his eyes not even blinking. He swore that it all baffled him, like the universe itself and the world around him.
——
Dear Levi,
Hello. I’m Mikasa Ackerman.
I came from another world… and upon searching among the worlds that may still harbor life, I saw your surname. As silly as it is, I am hoping for you to email me back since I am all alone in the universe. You know that… we are the only ones who existed in the whole universe, even parallel ones. We are singular, Levi. We have only one life among the stars, and we are not going to be copied like the rest of the world be.
I wanted to reach out to you… Please. We are on the brink of extinction right now. An Ackerman alone in the universe is a terrible thing, and if I’m gone, no one will be like me again. Also you… you will turn to dust like the others, except you will not be copied into another universe. There is a wormhole, and I sent this to you at the quickest speed of light. I am in another universe, a parallel universe like the millions around us.
Save me and be with me. Please live. I cannot lose you.
Sincerely yours, Mikasa
——
He stared at the screen, his emotions are now in a sudden haze of confusion and bewilderment. As if on cue to his shocking discovery, he staggered back on his chair and fell on the floor when an explosion probably a thousand miles away from where he was temporarily living is obviously… obliterated by the force and the sudden drop of temperature made him shiver.
Another Higgs, and he’ll surely kill himself rather than being blasted by that damned bomb. He stood up, luckily the supercomputer wasn’t harmed and the bright light emitted from it made his place illuminated in contrast to the world outside his makeshift abandoned facility from decades long gone.
80 years ago, wars broke out. The earth slowly turned into ruins, and millions and billions of people died. The people lost control, and some of them ventured away towards the stars. The humans left here in this damned planet are always higged, turned to ashes, just for the sake of destruction. The Sun warmed, too warm and it killed everything.
The year 2113 wasn’t getting better either, it was far worse. It was almost an extinction-level event, and he feared the worst. The planet could potentially be obliterated by the species it gave life with, only the said species became its demise.
Now, in his apocalyptic world, he was sitting on his swivel chair, now called vintage by his timeline, and stared at the email outrageously, and remembered a story about a certain girl who wanted him to respond from years long gone. Levi heaved out a sigh, and if there’s any way that could get him out of this fucked up planet, he’ll do it. Even if it has consequences, or he will be eaten by aliens or whatsoever that awaits him up there in the void, he will find a way.
It’s not like humans can’t still offer a ride up to space and go to another hospitable planet, but unluckily for him, he was not a millionaire or a billionaire in this world. He can’t afford a seat— hell, he can’t even come inside that fucking rocket without a cash payment to offer. Because surviving is a damn expensive venture he’ll get into, and even though he’ll rob a bank here and now, he will probably end up dying or find nothing there.
Humanity is long gone.
And he was still here, looking at his computer, like he was so lucky, so lucky in fact, to even be contacted by someone even though it’s from another world or anything in this matter. As long as someone is still worried about his well-being.
Finally, after he pondered for a moment, he clicked the email button, well, a reply would suffice. His fingers hovered the keyboard, and it was so foreign for him to act like this— even to the world as living in at the moment, that he sent a message through a keyboard and a fucking computer at that.
He typed and typed, leaving out the details and he sighed. There is no turning back… he will just wait and see if there is a possibility that he will be free.
——
Dear Mikasa,
Hello… Yes, I’m Levi.
I’ve received your email. Please count the hours since you sent it so that we can properly talk through this… old type of sending messages. I am unlucky living on this Earth, probably too far away to reach you. If you need my help, it is probably too late. We are getting obliterated right now, and there’s more to come.
Mikasa, how can I save you when I couldn’t save myself from this fucked up world? Tell me how and I’ll gladly do it. Thank you for reaching out, even though you don’t need to.
By the way… are you safe? Because I’m fucking obviously not.
Yours, Levi Ackerman
——
Sending it… he slumped back on his not-so-comfortable swivel chair as the loading continued. But after a few seconds, he saw the ‘sent!’ notification and a small smile lit up his lips. By the thoughts of it, he hoped that it may reach her somehow… if not too late. Extinction, like his world, is probably common among the worlds that have a common ground— parallel. The multiverse is a common concept, and not like it was originally taken kindly, some people still doubt it until now. Levi thought if she was from another universe that is parallel to him, or maybe… if it is parallel to his world, she would probably be in front of a computer talking to him at the end of the world.
Sighing, he closed his eyes as the smell of apocalypse lingered around him. It smells filthy, deranged and he hates it. Loathes it, in fact.
Freedom… did it even exist? He wondered as he saw another thunder and a blast from up above, silently praying that there are no casualties in that land to become one of the dead.
But pondering what Mikasa said, they are luckily replicated to the other parallel universes. Maybe the people here are living there peacefully without the Higgs, and maybe they die but luckily be buried underneath the Earth.
But not him.
He never felt so alone until her email. If the universe is playing his fate, they sure want him to suffer.
—
It was a few minutes after he took a nap and a message suddenly came into his bright supercomputer, like it was a fire ignited from the wood. He looked up, seemingly deluded by the fact, that someone was communicating with him. Like it was not just a dream or trickery from his mind throughout this madness.
It was all true.
Mikasa is still alive, somewhere… but still alive.
Slowly clicking the email while his eyes glued to the screen, he finally read her reply. Bit by bit, slowly… like he can finally see the light.
——
Dear Levi,
Thank the Gods you’re alive!
To answer your request, I received your email after a few minutes when I sent my email to you. I think you quickly answered it, right? Also… I’m safe. I’m in a spaceship at the moment, but as you can see, humanity in this universe is on a brink of extinction. We are nearing the wormhole, in case you’re wondering why I can quickly send the message. Apparently…
We’re probably coming to your universe.
I doubt it… but I saw the map and it was headed towards your universe when I first searched your name, it has an address, and I knew, we’re going there. Levi, I can save you. I’ll save you if I can, I’ll control the spaceship since everyone is asleep…
Find a way to get into a rocketship. And I’ll meet you at your world’s moon base (if there’s any) and I’ll get you.
Sincerely yours, Mikasa
——
Levi inwardly smirked, as an idea sparked in his mind. Speaking of moon bases, he has a friend in NASA, still here at the Earth as of this moment. The flight towards the moon base will happen this afternoon… if he can see exactly the sun in the dark skies that indicates it was still morning.
He replied to her email, grabbed some supplies for his venture outside towards the 15-minute walk towards NASA's main building, and locked the door.
It was not a luxury seat on a starship ride, but the Moon is the door to his freedom.
——
Dear Mikasa,
Thank you. I think I found a way. I’ll meet you up. Though the ride will take place after three days, two and a half days is the minimum time of travel. Perhaps you can meet me after four to five days if possible.
Please be safe. And thank you for saving me. Email me up, and I’ll answer you later since I’ll be going on an errand.
Yours, Levi
——
Chapter Two
A/N Please let me know in the comments below about your thoughts! don’t be shy to leave a note, hehehehehe ily! ✨
#rivamika#snk#fanfiction#levi ackerman#mikasa ackerman#snk levi#snk mikasa#levi#mikasa#venus#sci-fi#apocalypse#au
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Love me for who I am now
Bucky x Reader ( Chapter 7)
Previous / Next (8)
Summary: You apply for the Stark internship and end up getting it, so now you have 5 months to make a good impression to continue working with the Avengers.
A/N: This delay wasn’t planned everyone. My computer had enough from online classes and decided to crash on me a couple of days ago. I had to send it for repair, but we are back now. I will post a bit more often from my usual schedule for a few days to try and compensate. Hope yall like this, sorry for any mistakes made. Enjoy.
Tag list: @vicmc624 @yasminwashere @darkacademic2
Word count: 4,301
Warmings: fights, harsh language, not part of the original MCU
Y/N- Your name
Y/L/N- Your Last Name
--------------------------------------
“ I am sorry to cut this lovely reunion short, but we are still in a HYDRA base and honestly I am sure I hear a clock ticking.” You pointed in the direction of the gentle muffled clicking sounds
“Guess they plan to level this place to the ground just in case.” Bucky pinched in
“The way it sounds, I plan to watch the fireworks from inside the car on our way AWAY!”
Peggy still in Steve’s arms, felt being lifted off the ground again like she was made from feathers, as he dashed through the now missing doors towards the premade exit. She kept silent for most of the escape, seeing how the situation was confusing as it is, there was no need to fuel the adrenalin more. The bomb was enough for now.
The grip Cap had on Peggy loosened, letting her jump in the backseat with his shield. Bucky’s big frame settled next to Steve in the front seat, but not before he threw you towards Agent Carter, less gently than his friend did.
“I am not a bag of groceries Barnes!” you kicked his seat, yet ended up getting ignored for the most part
With determination, Steve’s foot hit the gas making the car roar out – snow creating a cloud behind the tires.
The empty space filled with loud beating hearts, skipping and missing beats, going one over the other – starting to calm down only after some distance was put between them and the building.
“Guess I misunderstood the tiking sou-“ the whispers coming out from your lips were engulfed by the huge explosion following the thankfully small pieces hitting the rear of the vehicle. You and Peggy ducked your heads for safety measures. The men in front seemed too immersed in the road, couldn’t even notice the musical notes coming from Bucky’s metal arm, his body leaning out the window, as particles ricocheted off it .
“Barnes!” your fingers reached over to grab onto his weapon belts, pulling him back inside. This man had no regards to his life, making one stupid decision after the other. It didn’t help that Steve wasn’t even noticing it all. Sometimes it felt like they both shared the ‘stupid’.
“Calm down doll. I am trying to see through the dust cloud. Wouldn’t want Stevie to throws us off a cliff.”
“I. Can’t.Believe.You.Are.Joking.Right.Now!” each hit perfectly timed thumping off his broad shoulders
“Stop it you two! Call Stark.” The blonde man demanded, pulling Bucky’s attention from you and onto the earpiece. The deep stern voice of authority cut your upset streak immediately.
“Hey ladies, how was the ball?” Tony’s playboy tone rung through the car, presumably while he was twirling onto his work chair.
“Delightful.” You hissed between your teeth
“What is wrong Cinderella? Lost a shoe?”
“No, but we gained a member.”
“Calling Barnes a dog isn’t nice now.”
“Stark!” Bucky launched towards the dashboard, but Steve stopped him with his free arm, before clasping the gear stick again.
“HYDRA were doing something in there that might have worked.”Cap began talking “ Tony, we don’t plan on stopping at a safe house. I am driving us directly towards the compound. How fast can you meet us there?”
The mic picked up on Tony’s shifting body guessed by the screeching sound of his work chair “ I don’t know. How far are you from there? Fuck, I will call Happy to get me from Stark tower.”
“I am sorry to intrude in this discussion, but do you by chance mean Stark as in Howard Stark?” Peggy placed her hands onto Steve’s seat, pulling her body closer.
“Usually people don’t think of my father first thing when they hear my name.” Tony huffed out, a bit of pride bubbling in his long blood of geniuses.
“You are Howard’s son?!” she gasped audibly
“Umm, I thought people knew that about me already, as well as handsome, playboy, genius, billionaire. Google gives a good explanation too. Steve is this our new addition? I would be worried if the answer is yes.” The car fell silent for a couple of seconds “I will take that as my answer.”
“We are close.” Cap didn’t know how to deal with all this still, he just had to cut it short till everyone was gathered and maybe ignore the problem for the time being. Very bad coping mechanism.
“How many vodka shots do I need for this?” Tony’s equivalent to pre-workout when it came to Avengers related work. Maybe the only thing keeping him sane most of the time.
“Grab a bottle for me too.” You voiced loud and clear from the leaning position your body was resting in
“A bottle?! Fuck my life.” The earpiece cut off the conversation making Bucky place it back onto his ear. Silence laced the atmosphere once more, this time with no sound, but the motion of the car to keep company. Your eyes laid over everyone inside one by one, scanning them and their calm exterior. The drive was long and a bit suffocating to a point, where you had to open the window on your side to let some fresh air in.
“Ah, sorry.” You sighed out looking at Peggy’s scattering hair “I should have asked before opening it.” Her hand gently pushed the flying strands behind her ear flashing you’re a smile.
“It’s ok. I know how much you hate tight spaces, we used to find diners with tables next to open windows because of that.” There it was again, a chunk of true information about you throw directly out of the 40s at you in the 21st century. Steve’s gaze focused onto the reflection in the car mirror switching between his love’s soft gaze and your confused look thrown back at her.
“Calm down, we are almost there” Bucky’s fingers Morse coded a quick message to his ,on the edge friend, earing a nod and refocus back on the street.
The moment you entered the city again, Peggy’s eyes darted towards her side of the car scanning everything happening. The buildings were huge, people were dressed so different, their manners and way they carried themselves, it felt weird not what she grew up with and knew by memory. It felt lonely maybe, or sad that she had no means of going back, yet the man sitting in front of her was a dream come true. Something she had wished for for years now.
“I am not…home anymore am I?” no one answered her, giving just enough information to make her own conclusion. With a small flair Steve drove the car into the compound, parking it at its usual space. The blonde soldier opened the door slowly, reaching his hand out for the agent to take, as baffled as she still was at this point. You found it so sweet how he was showing his feelings towards Peggy without saying a word, still lost in the mission. While Bucky was fixing himself up, he noticed the way your gaze laid over the two lovebirds in a longing stare. A gentle smirk pulled on his lips, before pushing out of the car and gripping your door handle. An unlocking sound shot your head, throwing your hair in the opposite direction.
“What are you doing?” you asked him, tripping over the end of the question lightly
“Something you will never admit you want.” His flesh arm reached out for yours to take, letting you marvel at his huge stance for a moment. The hesitation dissolved with the reflection of yourself inside his ocean blue eyes.
An old melancholic memory blew over you like a ghost, pushing your hand into his palm. Even though Bucky was the one who offered this, his body froze when you accepted his touch. His eyes ran over your hand, up your shoulder to your face, locking with you. His fingers slowly pulled your hand closer, clapped gently as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.
“I am glad that at least you brought my car back, for once.” Tony’s figure, standing next to the elevator with spread hands, pulling you two out of the time capsule. For a moment, for just a split second you saw in front of yourself a man. Short messed up dark brown hair, his smile reaching up to his eyes, shaping them slightly into crescent moons. His shirt unbuttoned tinted a dirty olive green letting his chest show – a metal chain laid upon it. His pants were messed up, his face muddy at places. It went like it came, a mist like whisper of the past.
“Tony we need to gather everyone.” Steve pushed the keys into the billionaire’s chest, letting them drop in his hands
“Already did-“ it didn’t take much time for him to notice Peggy “Is that?”
“Agent Peggy Carter.” She walked up to him with a confidant stride leaning for a handshake, which Tony didn’t hesitate to finish “Well aware of your identity agent Carter. Stark, Tony Stark.”
She flashed him a smile with a small nod before walking into the elevator.
“F.R.Y.D.A.Y. conference room.”
Yes Sir
The doors slid open causing the confused agent to jump a bit. You made sure to grab onto her, stopping a potential injury inside. The big almost ceremonial hall sized room revealed itself in front of Peggy, adding to her list of amazing and possibly impossible things.
“How did the first mission go Y/N?” Nat swung her legs jumping off the table, just to be stopped in her track by the unexpecting young lady behind Steve
“Everyone take your seats. This will be a long one.”Tony rushed to pour himself a drink, downing it faster than he could refill it. Peggy took Steve’s spot as he requested of her, taking his big frame to the front of the room.
“The HYDRA base was active. Except the usual goons there were 3 men, one of them was a scientist. Y/N.” he pointed towards you, directing the attention at you for a moment “Was able to retrieve the information, hopefully all of it, from them.”
“May I?” you asked, coaxing a nod from Steve. He turned towards your empty chair ,as you took his place in front of everyone. Taking over Tony’s tech you inserted the USB, but didn’t project anything yet to them. “They are trying to re-activate plan Winter Soldier and I am worried that they are pretty close to doing that.” Bucky’s body tensed up after he heard that name uttered from your lips “ I am guessing that they are opening a portal back in time using the tesseract. I don’t know if they plan to steal the serum, but it won’t be as simple as we think. F.R.Y.D.A.Y. the projector please.”
As you wish Miss
The wall became illuminated by different pictures and texts meticulously organized by you on the screen under your fingers. “I found old files, but no matter how much I scan them, I can’t get any information out of them.” Your head moved from the wall over to the tablet between your palms “All I can tell you is this Phase2-“
“Winter Soldier Phase2 The Return.” Peggy spoke out, her body rising slowly from the chair
“Everyone.” Your hand let go of the tech and turned the palms up pointing at her “Agent Peggy Carter, the one who walked through that very light ring a couple of hours ago.”
“She traveled through time?” Clint looked at Rhodey shaking his hands in front of his body “Is that something we can do now? Doesn’t it mess up some time space stuff?”
“Yes, basically. Just don’t tell Strange, we should be fine” You explained
“Noted.”
“Well since she seems to know something about this, let’s let her explain.” Tony swung his whiskey in the expensive crystal glass, the ice hitting the walls melodically.
“Before this all happened, I was on a mission to retrieve the second half of that exact document.” She began
“You have read the first part ?” Steve asked earning an positive answer from her
“The experimented soldiers were cryo-frozen for future use, I am guessing in this day and age. The first file spoke of the process and the scientists involved in the whole operation by name. They planned to use one of these men to make a super soldier embryo.”
“HYDRA wants to mingle some of their soldiers to make a baby? Wouldn’t want to be that poor girl.” the playful note was easily distinguished
“They could inject the serum inside a pregnant mother.” Vision leaned his body onto the table offering his two cents on this already sadistic topic
“ This whole ordeal could be a way for them to try and retrieve the lost files. Going back in time is a big thing on its own. Guess they are very confidant in this operation to begin with.” Wanda jumped in with an idea following a lead
“That is an option, considering that their plan with unfreezing those popsicles ended up with all them dying in the first place.” Tony pushed off his desk, leaving the glass to rest on the coaster empty. “What else did you find on that USB?”
“That two soldiers survived that time difference.” Pressing the screen Bucky’s file popped up on the wall “James Buchanan Barnes, as we know went through the cryo freezer, but the second soldier doesn’t have any intel on methods of survival. Yet the more I looked into it, the more information I found about him. The files are much fuller than those of Bucky, almost like they had a personal deal of sorts, which got me thinking. So turns out this mystery soldier was in HYDRA as a family business. Him and Bucky were the best duo they had, almost perfectly engineered team. Taking orders and finishing the job. Our Mr.2 didn’t go under the memory eraser as much as Bucky did, only 5 recorded cases in here. ” You tried to dig for a picture to offer them a face, but you could only find a burned one of a dog tag with a missing name, only the numbers left “ It is almost like he had been in the organization since a child.”
“What a family.” Nat commented “Basically we have another Barnes running around out there and we don’t know what he is capable of or who he might be?”
“I don’t remember any of this.” Bucky rubbed his head, either a headache creeping onto him or the anger of not being able to be of help.
“The problem might go deeper than that.” Steve rolled his shoulders back, hands crossed in front of his chest “Peggy seems to know Y/N.”
“Pardon my French but what the actual flying fuck?” Sam laughed out “ You can time travel of something now?”
“Not that I know of.” You shrugged “I am as confused about this as you all are.”
“Peggy?” his blonde hair flew around his head, as his eyes focused onto her figure
“We, me and Y/N are friends. Both of us met awhile after Steve’s….disappearance. Probably a couple of years or so. We used to go out from time to time and enjoy some food or a casual walk. Nothing suspicious. ”
“You said we haven’t seen each other since a few months now?” you asked her
“Yes, last time we met you had to leave earlier because of family problems with your uncle. It was pure coincidence, but I saw that the man who picked you up was James.”
It felt like something snapped your head towards Bucky, eyes meeting in a mix of shock and confusion. The whole room couldn’t take a breath in until their brains calculated all that just got released as information. Tony frozen in one place as his eyes began to widen.
“I think I will be saying the thing we all are thinking about but…” Bruce trailed off trying to delay this as much as he could this rough interruption “ If Miss Carter is 100% sure she knew Y/N, the one here right now that we see and she also has seen her and Bucky together during that time. The information we got from that USB can lead only to one possible conclusion.”
“Are yall saying I am 100 something years old!?” your exterior was mirroring your inside state “We don’t know if it is a woman or a men, but you can’t just start pointing fingers like that.”
“I am sure it was Y/N. I followed you back then. After recognizing James I thought…” her eyes looked at Cap softly “ If he was alive than maybe Steve was as well.” The atmosphere was dark, heavy, but also like thunder crackling, hitting you with buzzes of something.
“What we are saying is that you could be working for HYDRA and we would never know.” Tony took a few steps towards you, his finger of the suit trigger button “A few years off your daily life are missing under the alibi that you were living with your uncle. You show some interesting symptoms from time to time to.”
“I don’t work for HYDRA!” agitating words and lack of memory began taking a tole on you “Wanda, Wanda look inside my head. Tell them I don’t work for HYDRA!” you were shaking her body vigorously, hoping for assistance maybe at least from Vision, the walking infinity stone.
“Ok, calm down.” You took a seat while Wanda began gently entering your mind. She was gentle, taking her time going past one memory and into the other. Seeing thoughts and unsaid wishes. After what felt as an eternity she pulled her fingers away from your head and her presence out of your mind.
“She is telling the truth.” You slumped into the chair, taking a sharp breath in after what she said. For a moment you thought you heard faintly Tony disengaging the repulsion canon on his suit.
“But…”
“But what?” eyes wandering over Wanda in expectation
“You have missing memories, not exactly forgotten maybe suppressed or hidden. Things just don’t feel natural in some places in your head. They seem periodical.”
“Now that we have calmed down.” Bruce walked over to you, helping you get up and shielding your body from Tony’s sight “Let’s take her to Stark tower. Tony your lab there is much bigger we can figure this thing out.” Everyone in the room waited for the ultimate decision, which he took his time on making.
“F.R.Y.D.A.Y. prepare the lab.”
Yes Sir
“Thank you, Tony.” You whispered
“Don’t mention it kid.” His hand landed onto your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze, that he himself might have needed at that moment “Barnes you will be in a car with Steve, Clint and Peggy, Y/N will be with me, Bruce and Natasha. We don’t need you two that close for now. Wanda, Sam and Vision can just fly there. Rhodey grab Happy and wait for us there. You.”he pointed at Thor “Go ask your messed up brother if he worked with HYDRA or lost the Tesseract for sometime before we made Vision .”
Thor summoned Bifrost off Midguard, Wanda grabbed onto Vision disappearing into the wall. Everyone else headed down to the garage. The elevator was packed, the silence felt like a rope around your throat choking you with each floor passing. The space seemed tighter than before. It felt like the elevator was slowly filling with water, the pressure crushing your bones. Your body warmed up going past the normal temperature, when an icy like cooling sensation rolled up from your waist. Jolting threw you slight back hitting something soft yet firm.
“Calm down, it is me.” A deep voice whispered letting your body sink into this hold turning into pudding. He was the only thing keeping you standing, melting away the worry. Your hands crept up grabbing onto his vibranium arm, holding tight almost like he might disappear if you let go.
Sir, the garage.
F.R.Y.D.A.Y. ‘s voice echoed sliding the metal doors open. Tony threw a pair of keys over to Steve, unlocking his own.
“I got her.” Natasha smiled at you, showing Bucky that he can entrust you to her from here on. As much as you didn’t want him to let go, you felt his body leaving yours. “ It will be ok. No one really thinks you are on their side.” She told you “We just have to make sure that if this is all true they didn’t mess with you in ways they did with the metal fossil.”
“Nat.”a jingle like giggle left your lips, tapping her arm post joke. She knew what to say at any given moment.
“Ladies mind having your giggle fest in the car, we are busy people.” Tony snapped his fingers in a flashy way, ushering you both on the back seat.
“What is the plan then?” worried or not, there was no point trying to change something outside your grasp. You were still scared, worried but sometimes wearing adult pants was needed. You worked hard to reach this spot, there was no way you could let go of your future like this. Determination was unlocking something inside you, strength in situation most people wouldn’t be able to be composed in.
Tony threw a look at you before continuing to drive towards Stark tower “Glad to have you back agent.” Nat rubbed your hand in partnership with Tony’s words “ These are all theories, but having Peggy Carter so sure in knowing you could have revealed something about you and or HYDRA.”
Sir, a message incoming from Falcon
“Put him through.”
“Hey Tony! Sorry to cut your show short. I am getting a police report of a road shut down by some black jeeps heading up on yall.” Sam was flying over the cars
“Check on it.” The big metal wings shadowed over the road and flew in front, almost disappearing between the clouds.
“Who would have guessed that someone would try and stop us from going to the lab.” Bruce laughed at his comment, but Tony and Natasha seemed too serious
“We shall see how much of this was the job of a little fairy.” The car slowed down coming up on the barricade of cars standing, tinted windows not allowed a correct assumption of human number
“Smells fishy to me. Someone let the octopus out.” Natasha pulled out the gun from her case sitting calmly next to her leg. Tony prepared his bracelets.
“Dusty, you get ready too.” He shot you a serious glance “I don’t think these fine gentlemen want our autographs.”
No one made a move for a couple of minutes, before one of the jeeps opened and threw a man out of it on the floor. Bloodied up, tied in a brutal way. His head was hanging low enough for people to figure out he was an adult male, but not enough to figure out any facial characteristics.
“Great they have a hostage.” Steve’s voice echoed from the intercoms
“It’s HYDRA.” Bucky added “Couldn’t forget these disgusting faces even if I tried.”
“ Could have guessed that much myself from the logo on them metal boy.” Tony hissed knowing damn well they had to save whoever that man was.
“Don’t be shy, we won’t shoot. Yet.” The HYDRA agent laughed out “Do you need more motivation?” his leg generated enough kinetic energy to roll the man over to the exposed sun light, making you yell out “UNCLE!”
“What?” Bruce’s body swung towards the backseat
“Great!” Tony hit the stearin wheel aggressively “Now we gotta do something. Avengers, out of the car.”
Like a command you jumped out of the vehicle , trying to make sure you weren’t just guessing blindly, but it was him. It actually was your uncle, could he have been kidnapped all this time? The letters he stopped answering to could have been a sign you were too blind to notice. But why him?
“Now that we have acquainted ourselves , we want a deal.” The tall man spoke out braking your thought process “Give us our soldier back and we give you this one here.”
“How about we punch you in the face and you give us the hostage ?” Bucky hissed out, his arm clenching in front of your eyes
“Honestly, I liked you better when you didn’t talk.” the smirk ripping this man’s face was disgusting, filled with pride.
“Y/N?” you uncle coughed up a bit of blood next to himself, a sight tugging on your heart strings.
“Aw such a sweet view. Almost a bit sad don’t you th-“
“Not as sad as you will be in a bit!” full speed down from the sky, Sam ripped the clouds landing a hard kick on the back of this guy’s head. Knocking him a couple of feet back. You dashed over to your uncle, who mustered enough power to get up and try to reach you. He collapsed half way, falling into your arms just in time.
“Uncle, uncle!” you kept calling out to him, brushing his hair off his sweaty forehead, who knows what this man went through at a HYDRA base by himself.
“I am ok sweetie. D-don’t worry.” You lowered your head trying to hear him better between the heavy breathing he was huffing and puffing, sending you a comforting smile.
“We should help them.” Steve and Bucky went towards you to give a hand in charring your relative.
“Steve wait!” Peggy grabbed his sleeve, when Bucky suddenly got the wind knocked out of him, his back denting one of Tony’s cars. The sheer strength needed to throw a big man like James back only possible by Steve, or another super soldier.
#marvel fanfic#marvel fic#marvel aus#Marvel AU#marvel fanfiction#marvel scenarios#marvel hero au#marvel hero imagines#marvel imagine#marvel fanfic series#marvel x reader#marvel x you#Marvel x Y/N#marvel x female reader#marvel heros x reader#avengers fic#avengers fanfic#avengers fanfiction#avengers scenario#avengers scenarios#avengers fanfic series#avengers au#avengers AUs#bucky imagine#bucky x reader#bucky fluff#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky imagines#bucky fanfic
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devil 007 (prologue)
devil 007 (Bakugo Katsuki x Reader)
summary:
(demon!au)
Turns out Bakugo Katsuki never wanted to eat your soul, rather he just needed someone to play video games with.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ʜᴇʀᴇ's ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ. ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ :>
☆ ☆ ☆
𝑖. 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒
“That was a fucking accident.”
“An explosion that big is not an accident!”
You might be wondering how the hell were you hanging on the tallest building in the underworld holding on to a pipeline for your dear life. While your notorious partner-in-crime Bakugo just watched as you dangled ninety feet in the air.
“I swear if I die I will shitting haunt you for all eternity! You’d be fed up with all my shit the moment my soul reaches your territory. Just imagine, me annoying you fore—“
“Jump.” He grumbled.
No. Jump? Hell no. You’d rather die than jump into his arms. Bakugo was more likely to miss, and you’d fall (probably five storeys) before he dare tried to save you.
You wanted to scream. How all this happened in the first place, you hardly remember. No, you did remember.
It was all because of that stupid book.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
It was a mishap, really. The wrong book got delivered to the wrong place at the wrong time, and exactly the wrong thing happened as a consequence.
You were a college student who had just finished the semester, and frankly... a miserable one you were. Failing a quiz was one thing, but you had to mess up your finals so badly a retake wouldn’t suffice. You had to take up the subject all over again.
Sighing, you lay flat on your back. The ceiling had this magical property to suck up all the negativity in your life.
(it didn’t. but you’d like to think so.)
You had all the time in the world to repeat the subject. The problem? Cash. Having a scholarship at a prestigious university wasn’t easy. One measly failure could mean bye-bye free tuition fees and hello student loans that could last centuries + a liver.
Doomed you were, honey. You groaned. At least the treasury board approved the student allowances; which meant? The poor student (you) finally bought the heavy shitass syllabus for your major. The subject you failed.
It could take weeks for the parcel to arrive. What did you expect? You only ordered it days ago. The sooner it gets here, you’d be studying your ass off until 5 A.M. for weeks. Hooray.
A sudden ring of the doorbell awoke you from your senses. Huh, it did arrive earlier than you expected. You scooted towards the door and twisted it open. There lay a box wrapped in tape, a sticker with the words ‘fragile: handle with care’ shone in bright yellow.
You picked it up and shook the item. It was lighter than you expected. How the heck did a 700 page book become as light as a diary? Did they send you the wrong thing? Crap. You scoured the whole box to find neither details about who the recipient nor who the sender was.
Oh, well. Did that mean you could keep whatever was inside? You grinned. Opening up the box, you find out it was a vivid red book entitled:
Ultimatum Wishes: The Ultimate Spellbook for Summoning Demons!
All your wishes will come true! Follow the instructions inside.
Yeah, right. Like you could summon a demon to send you a trillion yen.
(apparently, doubt didn’t stop you from trying.)
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
First of all, what the actual fuck.
Your curiosity got the best of you. The instructions were pretty easy; sugar, salt, dirt, water, a jar of mayonnaise, a drop of blood— basically, the usual ingredients for summoning demons. Like that’s shitting normal? You had to mix them all together and spread them into the circle you drew on earlier.
Second, did you really summon a demon?
You were obviously not in your dorm room. It was bigger, darker, and colder to what you were accustomed to. After saying a stupid chant, you make a wish and boom! demon comes to you. So the instructions said.
It was a joke, really. You never thought the book was actually real! Once you said your wish, a bright light flashed and... you were here. A basement like room devoid of light, making your fingers the only things you could see at the moment.
You were sprawled on your back, staring at your hands. If only your eyes could adjust to the light then you would be on your merry way to finding the exit. Except, that you didn’t really need to adjust. The lights opened with a flash and you were met with red eyes:
“Took you long enough, brat!”
Lastly, who the hell was this?
The moment you and this miniature bomb exchanged looks, and he realized that you weren’t the person he was hoping for, the man grabbed the collar of your shirt lifting you high up to the ceiling.
“How the fuck did you get here stupid human? Pretty gutsy of you to just waltz in like you own the place, hm?” He growled, slightly shaking you with every syllable he uttered.
You barely registered it, you-know before you were lifted up, but this person in front of you was terrifying. He radiated waves of “answer properly or i’ll rip you into shreds” and you didn’t want to die.
(not at least before smacking this crappy brute.)
“Put me down you—you crappy dog! Treat me nicely and I’ll tell you everything,” You choked.
He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “You’re really haggling with me now, maggot? The last time I checked I could easily squeeze the fucking life out of you—”
“T-The book! Shitty book! Followed it and I’m here!”
And with that you were dropped onto the floor. You yelped upon impact, rubbing the area of your neck with your fingers. That hurt. Your eyes hovered to your assailant and saw his frustration building up. Hoo, a little bit more and he’d be on fire.
“...How’d you get it?”
“Sent to my doorstep. D-Didn’t think it was real I thought—”
“You opened it knowing it wasn’t yours?”
“Oh, no you aren’t! Don’t blame me for your shitty mistake in the first place!”
“Watch your tongue, human.”
You sighed. Everyone knew you were someone who wouldn’t back down from a fight, but your senses told you otherwise. There was a fine line between pissing him off and stabbing you in the heart, you knew you were likely closer to the latter part of the scale.
“Fine. Whoever that package was sent to, it came to me instead. Why am I here?”
He contemplated for a while, searching for the right words to spout out. Oh God no. Were you brought here as a sacrifice? You shook your head. Anything but that! Sweat dribbled down your forehead. Why wasn’t he saying anything?
“...to kill...”
Yeaph. And with that, you blacked out.
(imagine, fainting from your own demolition.
oh, you hope you didn’t actually break a bone or two.)
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
You awoke to a strange tapping noise, more like a smack, and groans of infuriation. The vivid colors of black, pink, and yellow caught your attention, making you stare in awe. Was that Mario Kart...?
The clicking sound came from the blonde who sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes drawn to big television screen in front of him. While you were on a black couch around three hands away from the man. Seemingly, he could sense your tiny movements as you sat up, compelling him to chuck a controller at you.
“You gonna play or what?”
Huh? You took the object, feeling the texture in your hands. It’s been a while since you held a controller; even longer since you played a game at all. The game home screen flashed, the cursor hovering over the “new game” button. He clicked it forcing the game to switch into the character screen.
The man picked Bowser. Ah, not surprising. You grinned as you chose Princess Peach.
The game began immediately after and you thought, wow. You sucked at this game! Your cart hit track walls, bounced on boulders, special items that you sent managed to hit you instead. Rigged, this must be rigged! Just because the last time you played the game was ten years ago, doesn’t automatically mean you were shit at it.
Your companion thought differently.
“You’re crappy at this game.” He sneered.
You rolled your eyes. “It’s just the first game! A warm-up, you’ll see.”
And yes, he did see. See you fail round after round, time after time, the twenty games you played seemed to only prove your awful skills at a simple multiplayer game. You groaned. How was it possible to lose this much? Even the computer controlled characters beat you senseless.
Gently placing the controller on the sofa, you wrapped your arms around your knees. Was this a test? A test to see whether if you were worth killing? Oh boy, you would have been slaughtered at the first playthrough.
“Are you going kill me now?” You murmured.
If this was how you were going to go, at least you had fun. Well, you did lose more times than you could count. But hey, it was enjoyable.
“Ha. You think I’d let you go that easily?” He stood up, turned and grabbed the controller. “You made a pact with me, and now you’re gonna run away?”
His other hand reached for your chin and pulled it up, your eyes meeting his.
“What’d you wish for, princess?”
alright. so that’s the prologue! thank you for reading. i’ll have the chapter one ready soon. so pretty much, what happened was: you received a package. bored as you were followed the instructions and summoned a demon. except, you were actually summoned somewhere else to bakugo no less.
the introductions come on to the next chapter!! please leave a like if you like it aaaaa it would mean alot ;;;;
#bakugo katsuki#bnha scenarios#bnha imagines#bnha fanfiction#boku no hero bakugou#bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo x you#boku no hero imagines#boku no hero scenarios#bnha fics#devil 007
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A New Day, A New Dawn, A New Life
Words: 1,806
Beta: @bambii-brambles
Notes: Alternate Universe. Not really any ships, but some are implied, No Quirks but some people do have abilities
Warnings: Nothing besides Bakugo's language
"Report to your stations immediately. This is not a drill. We are under attack. We are under attack!"
The sound of gunfire and explosions ring out loudly as two boys join hands. Just outside, heroes known as the World's Avengers, are in the process of infiltrating a LOV base in Sokovia.
Making her way towards the base, Creati crashes against a forcefield, the impact taking her completely by surprised. "Shit!"
"Language!" Reprimands another voice, Lemillion, as he takes down armed men. "Hatsume, what's the view from upstairs?"
"The central building is protected by some kind of energy shield. Imasuji's technology is well beyond any other LOV base we've taken"
Landing between several men, a blonde man swings his hammer taking out several of them. This is ChargeBolt. "Sero's scepter must be here. Imasuji couldn't mount this defense without it. At long last"
Several feet away another blonde takes out more men. This one is known as DynaMight. Locking his legs around one of the soldiers, he shifts his weight and swings the man off his feet, effectively knocking him unconscious. "At long last” is lasting a little long, idiots"
Taking cover behind a tree, a duo colored hair man fires multiple arrows. "Yeah. I think we lost the element of surprise"
"Wait a second. No one else is going to deal with the fact that Mirio just said "language?"
"I know" He sighs as he throws his bike at some soldiers driving up in their truck. "It just slipped out"
Inside the base, Imasuji made his way down towards the science lab. "Who gave the order to attack?"
Following behind him, one of his men answers. "Goto Imasuji, it's the Avengers."
"They landed in the far woods, the perimeter guard panicked."
Cursing under his breath, he turned to the scientist, Kyudai Garaki. "They have to be after the scepter." He then turns back to address one of his men. "Can we hold them?"
"They’re the Avengers!"
Clicking his tongue, he turns away. "Deploy the rest of the tanks."
"Yes, sir."
"Concentrate fire on the weak ones. A hit can make them close ranks." He ordered. As soon as they filed out, he turns his attention back on the scientist. "Everything we've accomplished... But we're on the verge of our greatest breakthrough."
"Then let's show them what we've accomplished. Send out the twins." He says. There's a certain mad gleam in his eyes.
"It's too soon."
"It's what they signed up for."
Shaking his head, Imasuji turns away. "My men can hold them." With that said, he makes his way towards the door. Taking the stairs he makes his way to where he knows his men are gathered. Entering the room, he takes a quick survey of the room's occupants, spying the aforementioned twins in the corner.
Once he's in the middle of the room and has their attention, he clears his throat. "We will not yield. They sent their circus freaks to test us. We will send them back in bags. No surrender!"
"No surrender!" They echo.
Quietly, so as to not draw any attention to himself, he turns to Garaki behind and whispers. "I am going to surrender. You will delete everything. If we give the heroes the weapons, they may not look too far into what we've been--"
"The twins." Garaki interrupts.
"They are not ready to take on--"
"No, no. I mean... " He points to where said twins were standing, but are now gone. "Twins."
Back outside, Shoto continues to take out armed men. Just as he goes to fire another shot, lined perfectly at the enemy's bunker, his arrow is snatched right out of the air the minute he releases it. "What the.. " Frowning, he repeats the motion and fires another shot only for the same thing to happen again, however this time a teenage boy saunters onto the field, his arrow in hand. He then winks and before he knows it he's knocked on his back, the wind successfully knocked out of him.
Smirking, the boy looks down at him as he goes by. "You didn't see that coming?" He taunts and then speeds off once more as Shoto quickly rights himself to fire another shot at him.
Rocked from the hit and the boy's sudden emergence, he doesn't see the enemy fire coming until it's too late.
"Peppermint!" Off to the side, Bakugo quickly runs over as his friend goes down.
Not too far from them, Mirio also gets knocked flat by the same speedster. "We have an enhanced in the field." He relays to the others, a bit dazed.
"Shoto's hit!" Bakugo yells, dragging him away from the bunker firing at them. "Somebody want to deal with that damn bunker?" Immediately after he voices this, a hulking mass of muscles barrels into said bunker, taking it out. "Fucking thanks"
As Mirio exchanges blows with the soldiers, he glances in the general direction to where he knows Creati is. "Momo, we really need to get inside."
"I'm closing in." She says, engaged with the enemy. "Hatsume, am I...closing in? Do you see a power source for that shield?"
"There's a particle wave below the north tower."
"Great, I wanna poke it with something." As he says this he fires at the forcefield, successfully bringing it down. "Drawbridge is down, people."
"The enhanced?" Kaminari questions as he lands besides Mirio, his landing creating a small seismic event that knocks nearby soldiers off their feet.
"He's a blur. All the new player's we've faced, I've never seen this. In fact, I still haven't."
"Shoto's hit pretty bad. Fuck, we're gonna need evac." Bakugo relays over the comms.
"I can get Todoroki to the jet. The sooner we're gone the better. You and Momo secure the scepter." Says Kaminari.
As they converse, reinforcements make their way closer towards them.
"Copy that"
Gesturing towards the incoming soldiers, he cocks his head. "It looks like they're lining up."
Shrugging his shoulders, he glances their way. "Well, they're excited."
Twirling his hammer around, Kaminari jumps into the air then slams it down on Mirio's shield with his hammer. The resulting wave from the joint attack knocks the soldiers off their feet and destroys in the incoming tank.
Twirling his hammer once more, he addresses Mirio. "Find the scepter." He says as he flies off.
"And for gosh sake, watch your language!"
Sighing, he looks to his feet. "That's not going away anytime soon."
Entering the LOV base, Momo makes her way through as soldiers immediately begin firing at her. "Please, stop, we can talk this through. As she says this, she knocks them out with explosives from her suit. "It was a good talk."
One of the men groans. "No it wasn't"
Typing away at his computer is Garaki. Clearly he's attempting to clean everything from the system before the heroes get to it, but he's intercepted by Momo who shoots him down.
Stepping out of her suit, she walks over to the computer the man was working at. "Sentry mode" She orders as she looks over the files on screen. "Okay, Hatsume. You know I want it all. Make sure you copy it to Ashido at HQ."
"We're locked down out here." Bakugo says, as he surveys their surroundings.
"Then get to Kirishima, time for a lullaby." Mirio answers.
Back inside the base, Momo continues looking around the room. "I know you're hiding more than files. Hey, H, give me an IR scan of the room, real quick."
"The wall to your left...I'm reading steel reinforcement... and an air current."
She makes her way over towards the wall, mumbling to herself as she goes. "Please be a secret door, please be a secret door, please be a secret door…" She pushes and the wall opens up. "Yay!"
Back outside, Bakugo makes his way towards Red Riot. "Hey, shitty hair. The sun's getting real fucking low."
He scowls at him as Bakugo kneels in front of him and puts out his hand. He regards his hand warily, before reaching out to touch it. Bakugo then begins to stroke his palm slowly, smirking a bit as he calms down.
Pulling his hand away, he stumbles as he begins to shift back into Kirishima. Still smirking, Bakugo watches as he stumbles away.
Inside the base, Mirio encounters Imasuji. "Imasuji Goto. LOV's number one thug."
"Technically, I'm a thug for HPSC" He answers back with a smirk.
"Well then technically you're unemployed. Where's Sero's scepter?"
"Don't worry, I know when I'm beat. You'll mention how I cooperated, I hope." As he speaks, his eyes leaves Mirio's form for a second to something behind him before locking back unto him.
"I'll put it right under illegal human experimentation" He says, unaware of the approaching figure behind him. "How many are there?" He's then blasted into the wall. Scrambling to his feet, his eyes lock unto the boy's own as he quickly leaves, sealing the door shut behind him. "We have a second enhanced. Male. Do not engage."
"You'll have to be faster than--" He's cut off as he's knocked out by Mirio's shield.
"And I got Imasuji."
"Yeah, I got... something bigger." Inside the hidden room, she's found a variety of technology, as well as recovered artifacts from the Battle of New York, including a gigantic Nomu leviathan and some of it's scrapped armor. She then spots the scepter. "Kaminari, I got eyes on the prize."
The same figure who attacked Mirio from before creeps up behind Momo. As soon as he gets close to her, he raises his hand to her head and curls his fingers, releasing a sort of energy that creeps into Momo's mind, turning her irises red briefly. Quickly he steps away.
Blinking rapidly, Momo shakes her head as if to clear her mind. When she glances up once more, the corpse suddenly comes to life and lunges at her. Flinching, she squeezes her eyes shut in reflex. After a few seconds, she opens them again to find her friends laid out before her, dead. Walking closer towards their corpse, she kneels beside Mirio, horror frozen upon his dead face. Suddenly, as if out of a horror film, he grabs her wrist and they lock gazes. "You… could've.. saved us.." Turning away from his body, she looks up to see Nomu's invading Earth, but it all melts away as she's snapped back into reality.
Unbeknownst to her, off to the side are the twins, who watch as she calls her armor towards her to surround her fist.
Stepping forward to stop her, the taller of the two is stopped as his brother raises his hand against his chest. "We're just gonna let them take it?" He questions, frustrated.
Not answering, the brother simply smiles to himself as Momo takes the scepter.
To be continued…
#midoriya izuku#katsuki bakugou#bnha bakugou#bhna deku#kirishima ejirou#momo yaoyorozu#mirio toogata#kaminari denki#shinso hitoshi#todoroki shōto#shindo yo#overhaul
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In the Bond-Chapter 6
Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.
Word Count: ~6,400
Warnings: Spitting (Kind of)
A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.
Taglist: @symbiont13
Start from the beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Read on AO3 Masterlist
Lilah stared at the picture in front of her, memorizing the details of the staff. It was made of wood, intricately carved, and kept in a glass case. The stand it sat upon was very likely pressurized, any change in weight would set off the alarm. There were no heat sensors in the display room, but there were motion sensors and a steady rotation of guards. Not super tricky, but not child’s play.
“Do you have blueprints of the building?” she asked, eyes looking to Brasa.
She’d been careful in how she looked at him for the entire meeting, not wanting to give away how she could still feel his lips ghosting across her skin. Though she hadn’t shared any more dreams with him, Lilah couldn’t keep her mind from going over how nice it felt to have his weight on her, how his hands (which she later realized were gloveless) felt as they coasted over her body.
“I do,” he replied, gesturing to Javier.
They were sitting in the vast room that served as Brasa’s office. Seth was standing next to the desk, going over the staffing schedule. Like most businesses, they had set shifts. Also like most businesses, their turnover rate was fairly high—the pay was definitely not enough to hold on to the more experienced or more talented staff. This, of course, was all good for them.
Richie was sprawled in the chair next to her, “We got any of those explosives left?”
Lilah glanced at him, “Why? You want to blow a hold in the floor, drop the staff and its stand through to the bottom, and haul ass out through the sewer system?”
He smiled, lifting a shoulder, as if she’d perfectly described his thoughts. She took the blueprints from Javier and checked them over to see if they could make that work.
“As fun as that would be,” Lilah said, “and it would be pretty fun, the building doesn’t have an underground tunnel, sewer or otherwise. The foundation is too thick for that.”
“Well, damn,” Richie drawled, “Guess we’ll have to go with the old smash and grab.”
That wasn’t a bad idea, but Lilah hated to bring that kind of attention to them. It would not only set off the alarm, but the police station was less than three blocks away. Not a lot of time for their getaway. Better to do this nice and clean.
“Again, totally a fun idea, but not a smart one.”
Seth stood up, rubbing at the back of his neck, “Looks like we got about a half hour rotation for security. Plenty of time.”
It was plenty of time. There was no safe to crack, just a series of security measures to override. In some ways, that was more tricky. Lilah stared at the blueprints, her brain running over options.
“We’ll need a key card,” Richie prompted, sitting up and resting his forearms on his knees, “If we can get that, and the six digit passcode, we should be able to disable the system with no problem.”
She cut a look at him, “You have any ideas about how we can go about getting the card and code?”
He laughed, “Yeah.”
“Care to share with the class?”
“Knock out a guard, take the key card,” he explained, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, “There’s only one on-site during the evening hours.”
Not the worst plan. To be fair, that was usually how their plans started out. Still, it left something to be desired.
“And the code?” She prompted lightly, setting the blueprints down on the desk in front of her.
“Oh, we’d threaten him first. Get the code that way.”
She blinked, “And if he’s lying.”
He paused, “Alright, we try the code first, then knock them out.”
Too messy.
Lilah gathered the photos she’d discarded in her lap and set them on the desk by the blueprints, “Maybe we get the code a couple days before, then wait until the gap in the rotation, break in, take the staff, and walk out.”
Richie smiled wide, “And, how do we get the code beforehand?”
That was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? They were lucky the codes didn’t roll over randomly—just one code assigned to each guard and used whenever they were on shift. Low maintenance, but high risk for this kind of location.
Seth crossed his arms, “Richie, you still got a couple of those tiny cameras laying around?”
Richie had bought about a hundred of these little cameras for ‘security purposes’, putting them around the bar. The move had paid off when they caught one of the bartenders taking some extra cash from the till at the end of shift. He’d never let Seth forget about it.
“Yeah, I got a few.”
“Alright,” Seth said as he braced his hands on the desk, “Lilah, you’ll going in and plant one of them in the line of sight of the keypad. We’ll monitor until we get the passcodes.”
Lilah observed him with a wry smile, “Look at you, making your way into the future.”
He rolled his eyes, but smiled, “Don’t get used to it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied dryly, her smile holding. It would take an act of God to get Seth to relinquish his way of doing things. Despite having an actual sun god in the room, Lilah was doubtful that she could get him to budge.
She rolled up the blueprints and handed them back to Javier with a nod of gratitude. He smiled wide at her, the expression self-satisfied. From across the desk, Brasa stood a little too quickly, a little growl cut off at the back of this throat.
“It seems you have this all in hand,” he said, a little too formally. “Lilah, I have the response to your edits in my personal library. If you’ll follow me.”
He turned and walked off towards a wall on the far side, hands tapping out a series of numbers on a pad situated on the wall. The smooth surface clicked open, and he pulled on it to reveal a hidden doorway. Impatiently, he looked back at her, a little nod indicating that she should hurry up.
With a click of her tongue, Lilah made her way towards him, moving through the doorway and into an incredibly dark hall. When Brasa pulled the door shut behind them, there was nothing to guide her way. Lilah felt her lungs draw in a shaky breath as she struggled to see. He stepped up and around her, taking her hand.
Lilah didn’t like the way she gripped the leather, didn’t like that she couldn’t see what was ahead. Still, she followed him until he slowed, the sound of keys being entered into a pad signaling that they’d come upon their destination.
When the door opened, he pulled her into a room that was lit with warm amber light. She blinked, her eyes adjusting. She knew this room. She knew the color of the walls, the texture of the ceiling, the feeling of the bed that dominated the space.
Already knowing the answer to the question, she asked, “Whose room is this?”
“Mine,” he replied, already moving to the far side and through an open door.
Lilah followed, feeling out of place. Awkwardly, she stood in the doorway and looked around the smaller, cozier room. Cast in dark wood and soft, sumptuous fabrics, the room was lined entirely with bookcases—floor to ceiling—that were absolutely stuffed with books.
Curious, she moved along the shelves nearest to her, hand skimming the tomes. There were languages she recognized and many that she didn’t. Her hands itched to pull them from the stacks and thumb through them. She wondered how long he had been collecting books, and how many of them filled this relatively small space.
At the center of the room was an overstuffed couch that sat opposite a desk with a computer and files scattered over it. Brasa was gathering paper and slipping it into one such folder, shoulders tense.
Lilah regarded him carefully, “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t spare her a look, tossing the file down and reaching for another, “I’m fine.”
“Yuh huh,” she said, “Seriously, what’s up with you? Five minutes ago, you were fine. Now, you’re...abusing office supplies.”
His expression, when he looked up at her, was incredulous, “What?”
“You’re throwing around files like they did something to you,” she couldn’t keep the laugh out of her voice.
His face hardened, and she could see the irises of her his eyes flicker. Lilah crossed her arms, waited. She’d found that if she waited a moment, he’d usually answer her, no matter the question. This seemed a good time to test that theory.
When her, admittedly small, patience ran out, she asked, “You going to tell me, or are you going to pout about it?”
“I’m not pouting,” he shot back, standing to his full height and circling the desk slowly.
She watched him warily, noting how tightly he was wound. He looked ready to lash out, and she was definitely in the line of fire. Irritated by his behavior, she shifted a little on her feet, unable to let it go.
“Well,” Lilah bit out, “You sure as shit aren’t talking about it.”
Slipping his hands into his pockets, Brasa gave a humorless laugh, “You are impossible.”
She sneered, “That’s the second time you’ve told me that. It wasn’t true before, its not true now.”
His glance skittered away, “I realize that this is new for you, but you are walking a thin line.”
Lilah repeated the last three words, her eyes narrowed in confusion, “What the fuck does that mean?”
When his eyes found hers again, there was anger there, and not a little betrayal, “Flirting with other males in front of me is not going to get the response you want.”
She was...still confused. After a few more seconds, she was pissed off. Lilah took a step towards him, her jaw clenched.
“Who the fuck was—you know what? No, that’s not the point. The point is that you think I’m the kind of person who would do something like that to get a rise out of you.” She took a step back, “No, I’m not the asshole, here. You are.” And then, “You can email me the edits, okay?”
Without waiting for an answer, Lilah walked as calmly (and quickly) as she could through his bedroom and out into the hall. In the dark, she cursed lowly and felt her way along until she reached the door, grateful that it was locked from this side and she didn’t have to wait for Brasa to key in the code.
Before she moved back into the office proper, Lilah took a deep breath and schooled her features. Her emotions were oscillating wildly from shock, to incredulity, to anger that burned hot in her belly. She hadn’t done a single thing wrong, and to be accused of...she didn’t even know what, made her want to blow something up. Damn shame that she’d already used all the explosives. Lilah took another calming breath.
With a well placed lie, she managed to get through the next few minutes of packing up. She was careful to keep conversation going on the way home, even stayed at the bar for a drink. Lilah gave nothing away as she quietly seethed. It wouldn’t do any good to vent this kind of frustration—not that she could really tell anyone. Her personal relationship with Brasa was still secret, and she wasn’t going to upset the delicate balance that she’d set up with a childish outburst—unlike some people.
Lilah spent the evening vowing to hold this grudge as long as she could stand it, her fury remaining at a low simmer in her belly. When her phone vibrated in her pocket, she opened a text message from an unknown sender asking her to talk. She deleted it, focusing on the job she’d been contracted to perform.
Three days later, she was sitting in a van parked a block or so away from the museum, checking the comms.
“Everyone hear me?”
Seth’s voice sounded, “We can hear you. Now, shut up for a minute while I get this lock open.”
They had to do things the old fashioned away for the outer locks on the back door, no key code security measures. Lilah had rolled her eyes at the excited look on Seth’s face as he threw down his lock picks onto the table where they’d rolled out the blueprints Javier had loaned them.
From over the line, she heard Seth make an approving grunt, the sound of the door opening a moment after.
“We’re through the first set of doors.”
Lilah nodded, eyes on the computer in her lap, “Guard is starting his rotation. He’s just left the office.”
“Ten minutes for a full round,” Richie murmured, “I’ve clocked it.”
Again, she nodded, “I started the timer. Get in the office, cut the security feed.”
The museum had upgraded to digital a while back, but their servers only uploaded once an hour. She checked the clock. They had three minutes until upload. She watched Seth and Richie approach the office and bypass it for the server room. Two minutes. They were moving leisurely, almost sauntering through the hall. Wasting time.
“Pick up the pace,” she said.
“We’re on it, princess,” Seth retorted.
“Then get going” Lilah shot back in sing-song. “You’re down to a minute, fifteen seconds.”
On the screen, they found the server, and slipped the USB she’d made for them into the drive. Thirty seconds left. Lilah switched screens, watching the little yellow bar make its way from left to right. Fifteen seconds. The bar went green and she smiled.
“Server’s crashing,” she confirmed lowly. “Get out of there.”
With a salute to a camera that wasn’t recording, Seth grabbed Richie from where he was looking at the electronics, hauling him towards the next checkpoint. They would have to wait until the guard crossed back to the office, turn off the motion sensors, and get the staff out of the case.
That was the tricky part. The case was bolted down to its stand, and they couldn’t risk the sound of a drill alerting the guard. They’d have to manually unscrew the case, hold down the weight sensor, lift the staff, replace it with the dummy weight, close the case, and get back to the checkpoint before the guard made their next round. Thirty minutes was a long time, but there was a lot to do.
“Guard’s coming,” Lilah warned.
They ducked behind a corner as the guard passed, Richie watching him discreetly. When it was safe, they circled around to the next room where the staff was on exhibit. Motion sensors disabled. On to the case.
Lilah appreciated how efficient they were, when they were focused. Moving as a single unit, they worked their way around the case, wrenches in hand, making quick work of it. Once they had it off, Seth reached into the bag they’d brought with them and held up the staff they’d created as a temporary replacement.
Richie had spent a few hours putting it together, and from a distance it looked pretty good. It would, at least, buy them enough time to get away and make the two hour flight back to Mexico. With any luck, it would be a few days before they figured it out. Lilah didn’t count on it. She’d booked a flight within an hour of when they were going to finish the job. No bags to check. Straight through security and onto the plane.
Lilah watched as Richie slipped a knife over the pressure sensor, his other hand nimbly plucking the staff from the stand. Seth carefully set the replica into place, both men holding very still as Richie pulled the knife free. After a second or two where both looked to be holding their breath, Richie stuffed the staff into the bag as Seth replaced the case. Screws ratcheted back into place, motion sensors reactivated.
“Don’t forget the camera,” Lilah prompted, laughing when Seth scoffed and spun on his heel, snagging the device and pocketing it on the way down the hall.
“Guard’s on his round,” she whispered, “Get to the hallway. Now.”
Moving quickly, Seth rounded the corner, barely clearing it before the guard stepped into the room. They hustled back the way they came and out into the alley, locking the door behind them. Lilah closed down the computer and threw it in the backseat of the van, turning over the ignition. A few minutes later, the sliding door was opened and both men jumped inside. The van was already moving before they got the door closed again.
“Without a hitch,” Richie drawled as he relaxed in his seat.
Seth smiled at his brother, “That was good work.”
“We’re not done yet,” Lilah called back, “Still have to get it across the border.”
“Ah,” Seth sighed, “That’s the beauty of it. The postal system is going to do all the hard work for us.”
Reaching back, he pulled the prepped box from the third row of seats. He snapped at Richie, who handed him the bag. Into the box went the staff, with a little bubble wrap for protection. A little packing tape, and it was all sealed up and ready to go.
Lilah pulled off to the side and into the parking lot of the mail center, watching as Seth hopped out of the van and dropped the package into the chute. It would be at the bar within a few days. Easy peasy.
She slept on the plane, an alarm set for sunrise. Since she’d last seen him, Lilah had refused to sleep during the day, and only for a few hours at a time. It made her irritable and a little foggy, but she didn’t want to see him. Whenever she thought about their last interaction, Lilah got angry all over again. She’d take a little hit to her functioning to have their next meeting be completely on her terms.
Lilah had gone over the conversation a hundred times, wondering how he’d gotten the impression that she’d been trying to goad him by flirting with—she actually couldn’t figure out which male he’d been concerned about. Best she could figure, he was working off an old framework, the power imbalance between himself and his queen. That wasn’t going to fly, not with her. She had too much going on to deal with a partner (was he even her partner?) who’d go off half-cocked at the slightest feeling of jealousy. No. Lilah had other shit to deal with.
It was with regret that she knew she would have to go and speak with him. Lilah couldn’t avoid him forever—she snorted at the thought—things would have to be cleared up eventually. Besides, she needed to get back to her sleep schedule if she was going to be of any use to anyone. Better to rip this metaphorical Band-Aid off quickly, and soon.
Arguing that she had to deliver the next draft of the treaty, Lilah stashed the staff in the back seat of her car and headed out into the dying sun. The two hour drive gave her enough time to work out what she was going to say. First, she was going to demand an apology. Lilah deserved that much. Then, she was going to discuss boundaries for the future. That seemed like the adult thing to do. Lilah congratulated her self at how mature the plan sounded in her head. Reality, however, wasn’t quite so easy.
As she pulled into the parking lot, Lilah debated leaving the staff in the elevator to be found by whoever might be walking by and hauling ass back to the bar. That, unfortunately, would put the covering of their expenses (for which she had receipts) at risk. She’d never live it down if she came back empty handed. So, into the elevator she went.
In the carriage, Lilah felt warmth crawl up her side. She sneered to the ceiling, “Stop it.”
It stopped.
Steeling herself, Lilah stepped into the red light and headed for the bar. Brasa already knew she was here, so all she had to do was sit and wait for him to come to her. She pushed up onto a bar stool and set leaned the staff next to her legs. When the bartender approached, she ordered a bourbon, watching him pour the shot. When she tried to pay, he waved her off, telling her it was on the house.
Suspicious, she pocketed the cash and picked up the glass, sniffing. Nothing smelled off with it, so she took the tiniest sip. Tasted fine. She set it down. Suspicious. Lilah very rarely got free drinks, her looks too severe, her manner too cold. To be fair, that was her preference most of the time. Lilah didn’t have the energy or the patience to fend off advances from drunken men.
A shadow appeared beside her, but it was too cold to be the person she was waiting for. Lilah looked up, unsmiling.
“Can I help you?”
The man flashed his teeth, “I’m Benny.”
Lilah continued to look at him, unamused.
Uninvited, he sat, leaning an arm on the bar top, “You’re not what I expected.”
She debated answering him, a half dozen cutting remarks flying through her mind. In the end, she settled for turning her attention to her drink and ignoring him. Best course of action, really. Lilah needed to save all her quips for the person she was actually mad at.
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
At this Lilah rolled her eyes, fixing the guy with a look that said, ‘what the fuck do you think?’
His expression grew still, and she could see the glint of his game face, though he worked to control it. He growled, his hand grasping her arm above the elbow. The grip was painful, and Lilah only just managed to keep her expression cool as she felt the very real danger he presented to her. She was armed, both gun and knife, but she was technically in enemy territory. Starting a fight with one might mean starting a fight with all. Her eyes scanned the room, too many possible enemies nearby.
She’d have to talk her way out.
Heat pushed at her back.
Or not.
Benny let her go, sliding off the stool and taking a step away. Lilah craned her neck to confirm what she already knew.
“Oh, thank God,” she murmured, reaching down and picking up the staff, “I got what you asked for.”
Brasa’s attention was on the culebra who was backing away. He stared them down for a few more seconds before his eyes turned to her. Lilah held up the staff, shaking it from side to side a little.
He glanced at the staff, glanced at her, then turned, “Come with me.”
Lilah stared at his back for a second before she sighed and followed him through to his public office. There was no conversation as they traversed the stone pathway towards his desk. When he reached it, Brasa leaned his hips back on the desktop, gloved hands folded in front of him.
Wordlessly, Lilah handed him the staff. He took it, held it in both hands for barely a moment before setting it aside. For as much effort as he was going through to get ahold of it, he certainly didn’t look pleased to actually have it in his possession.
Unable to take more silence, Lilah said the only thing she could think of, “For the record, I wasn’t flirting with him, either.”
First shot fired. Lilah shifted on her feet in preparation for return fire.
Eyes dropping down and to the side, Brasa pushed his hands into his pockets and released a heavy sigh, “I regret how I reacted last time we spoke.”
Well, that was unexpected. Lilah had expected him to double down on it, not express regret. Still, that wasn’t an apology. It did, however, take the edge of her anger.
Lips pursed, she replied, “I’m sure you do.”
Another sigh. It looked like she was going to have to take lead on this, if she wanted a resolution. Lilah very deliberately did not think about why she might want resolution as opposed to giving him the eternal cold shoulder.
“Hey,” she began, holding up her hands, “You can’t get angry any time I’m nice to anyone around me. I have work to do, and that involves having good relationships. Jealousy is not a good look.”
He nodded, “I am unused to these feelings and I am struggling to control them.”
A good explanation, but not an excuse for the behavior.
“That’s okay,” Lilah responded, taking a step forward, “But you need to talk with me about them and not...make assumptions.”
Another nod, “I’m sorry.” There was her apology. “I will try.”
She saw it for what it was, a gesture of good faith. Mollified by his words, Lilah’s shoulders dropped. She hadn’t realized how much tension she’d been holding in her body for the last few days. And now, she didn’t quite know what to do with all the built up anger. Suddenly, she was very tired.
“Good,” she said, “Let’s call it rule number one: if something is bothering us, we’ll talk about it.”
At this, he stood up straighter, his eyes finally finding hers, “I can do that.”
“Okay.”
“Are you going to continue blocking me?” He asked in a small voice.
Brows together, Lilah responded lamely, “Blocking?”
He shrugged, “I haven’t been able to feel you while you were acquiring the staff. I worried.”
Ah. Lilah wondered if he’d picked that up. Of course he had.
“I’m sorry,” She said reflexively, “I needed a little space.”
He licked his lips, eyes regretful. Lilah felt a stab of remorse in her chest. She hadn’t meant to make him worry, she just needed to take a little time for herself to work out her feelings. And, she couldn’t do that if she could feel him with her in the interim. Still, she could also make a gesture of good faith.
“Alright,” she breathed, moving closer to him, “Rule number two, if we talk about it, we won’t block each other out of spite.”
Looking placated, Brasa reached out and took her hands, “I’m glad you are safe.”
“Me, too,” Lilah laughed, “There was no danger. We got in and out with no problems.”
He shook his head, “That isn’t the danger I’m worried about. The culebra out there? Benny? He’s been stirring the others up. He knows who you are to me, and I don’t put it past him to strike out at you to get to me.”
Setting aside the question of how Benny figured out that Lilah was bonded to Brasa, she took a minute to think, “Should I pull a weapon next time?”
He smirked, “You’re a terrible shot.”
“I didn’t say it would be a gun.”
“Oh?”
“I still have my knife. I did alright with the last guy. Got him twice before he threw me through the window.”
Brasa winced, “The point is that he was able to throw you through a window before I got there.”
“That is a good point,” Lilah said seriously, though she could feel a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
He rolled his eyes, “Be serious.”
“I am,” she shot back, “I can handle myself in a fight. Usually.”
That was only half a lie. Lilah could handle herself with humans, most of the time. She’d been struggling to hold her own in a fight with a culebra ever since she’d first come up against them. But, he didn’t need to know that.
Deciding that she needed to change the subject, Lilah nodded to the staff, “What do you need it for, anyway?”
He drew he a little closer, expression serious, “I intend to close the portal between this world and Xibalba, so that no others like me come through it.”
She blinked, “Like you?”
Brasa hummed in confirmation, standing and leading her to the side where the secret door was open and waiting.
“Culebras were slaves there, treated as slaves, culled when needed,” he explained, stepping into the dark hallway. “Xibalbans are, as a whole, selfish creatures—destructive, vain, apathetic. Despite my birth status, I experienced what it was like to be subservient to them for many centuries. I don’t want this world to see that kind of pain.”
Lilah listened quietly, walking with him into his bedroom and through to his library where she sat on the couch at his side.
“I’ve done a lot of research,” he continued, “With the relics you acquire for me, I can close the veil permanently.”
She waited a few seconds to make sure he wasn’t going to explain further, then said, “I’m completely on board with this plan.”
He smiled, “I thought you might be.”
“How many more relics to I need to get?”
Brasa laid his arm over the back of the couch, “Three. A cup, a book, and a knife.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
“It could be,” he replied, reaching out to trace along her jaw, “I still worry for you. I think I always will.”
She could feel the heat of his body beneath the leather, and she found that she wanted to feel his hands—for real, this time, instead of vague remnants from a dream. In the moments of quiet, her skin remembered what it was like to be caressed by those hands, to feel his fingers curl around her.
“Why do you wear the gloves?”
His hand dropped, his head pulling back. Lilah regretted her words immediately, but he stopped her when she made to apologize.
“You know I’ve killed people,” he said plainly, “My queen, she made me do things that I couldn’t say no to. At first, I thought I was doing the right thing. I believed in it. In the end, I think I did it because I enjoyed it.” He looked down at his hands, “I guess I felt like if I didn’t touch them, if I didn’t feel it as I killed them, I could put distance between what I am and what I was made to do.”
Lilah was quiet a long time. He wouldn’t look at her. She could see the shame on his face, in the slump of his shoulders. She made a decision.
With deliberate slowness, she picked up his hand, saying, “I think we need to make new memories with these hands, then.”
Checking to make sure he was okay with it, Lilah very carefully pulled the glove off. His hand was a nice, normal hand. No scars, neatly trimmed nails, a wide palm with surprisingly fine boned fingers. Watching his face, she lifted it and placed it on her cheek, the warmth seeping in immediately. Lilah held it there, letting him feel.
He swallowed audibly, thumb swiping over her cheekbone. The touch was soft, delicate, testing. With just as deliberate a pace, Lilah pulled the glove off the other hand, placing it on the opposite cheek. He was breathing hard, eyes unfocused, plush lips parted. She could see the way his pupils were dilating, taking over the iris and bleeding a little into the white.
Lilah didn’t know why she did it, but instinct had her moving closer, swinging a leg over his hips and pushing him into the back of the couch. He kept his grip on her cheeks, letting her settle into his lap. Lilah dropped her forehead onto his, eyes half lidded. His body was fire hot beneath her, and she could tell that he was itching to move, yet he remained docile.
Letting the moment expand between them, Lilah touched her nose to his, bumping it affectionately. He smiled, his hands pushing into her hair.
“See?” she prompted gently, “New memories.”
He nodded even as he lifted up to kiss her, his hands holding her steady as he slipped his tongue inside for a taste. Lilah ran her hands down his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he kissed her nearly senseless. The scent of him, the way his arms wrapped around her middle and held her tight, the taste, it all mixed together in a way that made her lightheaded.
Brasa jerked back, pulling away even further when Lilah made to follow him. She panted, blinking as she took in the black of his eyes, the fangs that had descended. He hadn’t nicked her, she couldn’t taste blood, but she did notice a strange tingling on her lips, over her tongue.
“What?”
He ran his tongue over his lips, “I can’t kiss you like this.”
Her brows furrowed, “Because of your teeth?”
Mouth twitching, he shook his head, “Because of the venom.”
She drew in a breath, “I have no idea what to do with that information.”
He touched her mouth ever so gently, “Kissing you is arousing, Lilah.”
“Uh huh,” she said, nipping at the pad of his forefinger, “That’s kind of the point.”
Hand dropping, Brasa searched for words, “The muscle that controls the venom is reflexive, I can’t control it. Kissing you… like this...you’re very likely to ingest the venom.”
“And,” Lilah prompted, following his line of thought, “You think I’ll suffer from some of the effects.”
“Yes.”
They were going to have to get past this, sooner or later. Lilah voted for sooner.
Settling further into his embrace, Lilah cupped his jaw, leaning into his space, “Are you likely to be aroused any time we kiss for more than a moment?”
Eyes bright, he nodded, “Very likely, I think.”
“Then,” she reasoned in an even tone, “You’re going to settle for quick little kisses for the rest of our relationship?”
To give him an example to go by, Lilah dropped down and pressed a soft, but fleeting kiss to his mouth. He tried to lean up to get at her again, but she pushed him down, surprised by how willingly he submitted to the motion.
“I mean,” she continued, giving him another quick kiss, “If that’s what you want,” she kissed him harder, but just as quick, “I can try to accommodate you.”
He looked so torn, sitting underneath her weight, hands rubbing at her hips, pulling her into the hard planes of his body. Lilah might have had mercy on him if she thought he would get over his hesitation on his own. Deliberately, she gathered all the bravado she had in her body, using it to do what might normally make her feel too vulnerable.
“You know what that means, though, right?” she breathed, her mouth barely brushing against his, “No deep kisses, no sliding my tongue against yours,” she carded her hands back into his hair, pulling gently and reveling in the little contented moan he made. Then, she went in for the kill, “And definitely no biting.”
Brasa flinched, and she knew she had him. His grip on her hips tightened to near pain, his body rigid. Biting was so deeply ingrained in his kind, a need so deeply held, that to deny it was unthinkable. Lilah knew this, and she was definitely above using it.
She released her hold on his hair, palms on either cheek, “Do you want that?”
“No,” he rasped, a low growl building in his chest.
Smiling, she asked, “Then, what are we going to do about it?”
He looked at a loss, “I don’t know.”
Lilah thought for a moment, half a plan already formed, “You said I could ingest the venom and feel its effects. Is that better than a bite?”
Hesitation, then a curt nod.
“Okay then,” she said lightly, “How about we start with that? We can work up to a bite when you feel more comfortable.”
Lilah had no idea when she’d become so relaxed about him kissing her, biting her, and all the things that went along with that act. What she did know was she wasn’t going to sit stagnant, waffling about the rightness of it. Lilah wanted more kisses, and that was enough for her.
When she moved to kiss him, he pulled back a little, shifting to the side. Lilah, off balance, fell to the cushions. He crawled over her, hips settling between her thighs, though he held most of his weight on his arms. She laughed softly, letting her body relax into the couch.
“Just a little,” he urged, expression eager, “To start. To see how you do with it.”
Willing to let him experiment, Lilah nodded, chin tilting up with the gentle pressure his his hand.
“Open,” he whispered, his mouth hovering over hers.
Lilah’s lips parted, her eyes falling closed. She felt his jaw flex, felt little drops fall onto her tongue. They were hot, like the rest of him, rolling over her taste buds to burn down the back of her throat. She swallowed reflexively, taking whatever he was willing to give her in that moment.
When he lifted a little, Lilah opened her eyes to see him searching her face. She didn’t quite get why he was so nervous—he’d told her that the venom wasn’t harmful, that the effects were pleasing. Still, she was charmed by the concern.
And then the tingles started. Over the length of her tongue, her lips, the inside of her cheeks, down her neck and into the pit of her belly. Little tingles everywhere, as if she were covered in little tickling bubbles. Lilah huffed out a breath, grinning.
“Good?”
She nodded, “Very good.”
Though clearly pleased, his face was serious, his gaze looking her over and clocking every little movement.
She said his name to capture his full attention, “This is nice.”
His mouth kicked up on one side, “Wait until it peaks.”
“Peaks?”
Brasa hummed a little, pushing hair away from her face, his touch light. A moment later and she knew what he meant. The pleasant tickle turned into a searing burn of pleasure, her muscles going lax and nerves firing sporadically. She let out a startled yelp, her hands coming up to dig into his broad shoulders.
“Hush, querida,” he murmured, hands running along her sides.
As quick as it rose, so did the feeling subside. Lilah was left sucking in air as she gained control of her limbs again. She wiped sweat from her forehead, her hand trembling.
Staring up into his carefully guarded eyes, Lilah gave him a soft smile, “That’s a good start, I think.”
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Beyond The Veil: Chapter 9
As she and Aizawa approached the door to the principal's office, she noticed he went to slow down to knock but Eras wasn’t dumb.
She saw that camera hidden in the wood of the door.
Without missing a beat, she walked forward through the now open doors as Aizawa faltered for half a second. Muttering the words ‘fuckin rat’ under his breath and Eras took a sharp breath as she held back a snort. Instead, she turned her attention to Nedzu and All Might. The latter was sitting on a couch and the minute Eras turned her head to him and sniffed, she could smell the metallic scent of blood. He was covered in the scent. A tell tale sign of injury.
Not that she didn’t know about that before she entered the room.
Is it really that surprising for a few people to figure out a national secret when it was literally walking around?
“Ah Eras-san,” of course the rat had listened in on their conversation at the gate, “Welcome, please have a seat. Tea?” Nedzu asked, his tone deceptively light.
“Thank you, If you have any green tea that would be delightful. I can only stomach certain kinds of tea.” That was a lie, well kind of. In reality Eras just didn’t like most human drinks or food, preferring coffee and Boba to just tea. Green Tea’s are the only kind she can have without it tasting like getting hit in the face with a bunch of spices. A consequence of her vampire attributes.
“Of course, I'll prepare that right away!” Eras nodded and watched as Nedzu started making the tea before taking her gaze off of him to settle it on the #1 pro.
She narrowed her eyes.
The man flinched.
Good.
“Before we start Nedzu,” an flip of the tail told her he was listening, “I think we could agree that All Might should save his time for when the Bakugo’s get here considering it would be a shock for them to see the hero deflate like a balloon after a 5 year old’s birthday party.”
All Might instantly deflated and started hacking up blood. Nedzu was cackling and Eras could hear the softly muttered ‘deserved’ from behind her where Aizawa was standing, leaned against the wall.
“How?!?” All Might stammered. Eras just sighed and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, her face the picture of unimpressed.
“You are a walking national secret that could potentially throw the country of japan into chaos with merely announcing said injury. I believe it's quite honestly predictable that at least someone would know about it. Besides, Nedzu wasn’t the only individual trying to get access to the veil. People in the veil are beyond what constitutes as human. Especially when it comes to life expectancy. Some people who wish to live long lives to further their ideals come to the veil seeking answers. Supervillains and the like.” The man's face paled at the last part and Eras felt a bit of relief at that.
At least he wasn’t a total idiot when it came to reading between the lines.
(Eras had been keeping track of All for One since she learned of his existence. Even after the man supposedly died, she made sure to keep an ear out.)
“Besides, even if I didn’t know beforehand, as you’ve demonstrated you're consistently either covered in blood, or seconds away from expelling it. I could smell it the moment I walked in here.” Eras stated simply. Reveling in the man’s confused fear.
That was until a tea cup was placed in front of her.
Nedzu was vibrating with glee.
Oh. Oh no. She had forgotten Nedzu didn’t know what race she was yet. Fuck.
“Thank you.” she said, conveniently ignoring her slip up. What he doesn’t know can’t be used against her.
“You're quite welcome. The Bakugo’s will be here in another 20 minutes since it does take a bit of time to arrive from their place of work.” The rat smiled that polite smile that grated her nerves wrong. That was the fake smile of something inhuman trying to act as society demands.
Just like her own tight lipped smile.
She sighed and turned to Nedzu. Eyes that were once black were now glowing a toxic green as she allowed herself to smile fully, fangs displayed for everyone in the room to see. Ignoring the sharp intake of breath from the occupant still leaned against the wall and sputtering All Might, Eras kept her gaze on Nedzu. Conveying with her inhuman qualities that she wouldn’t judge him.
The feral smile she got in return was satisfying.
“You can ask Nedzu. You have 20 minutes after all.” Eras allowed her eyes to dim back to their black and returned to her usual smile.
Nedzu kept his feral smile in place as his eyes gleamed and Eras came to a conclusion. She liked the chimera. Sure she will still call him rat man and other nicknames but he was truly just curious. Also, he stopped at verbal answers instead of testing every and anything like the elves.
“Based on what I’ve seen, you're a vampire. Though you do greatly contradict the basic stereotype for your kind found in lore and novels. Evident especially with the green glow we were allowed to witness, as well as having short fangs on the bottom row of teeth with the usual top and longer ones. Is that the norm or are you different?”
Right for the gut huh? Eras returned her sharp smile to her face. She could appreciate intellect and getting to the heart of a matter quickly and efficiently.
“As you’ve already hypothesized,” she saw Nedzu’s grin grow wider, “I am not normal for my kind. Specifically, my title is an ‘Origin’, in lore and new veil members though, I am referred to as a pureblood. True to the name, I was born the way I am a long time ago.”
“How intriguing. Muska had informed us before but vampires were the original members of the veil and held most of the information. I won’t press for more since we were already told we were going to be limited, however what exactly is the hierarchy like for Vampires? I assume Origin is a title for someone relatively high on the social hierarchy.”
Eras leaned back in her chair, sighing a bit as she remembered the fact that she was directly involved in politics, even if she was only called upon for those meetings, but she shook her head to get back on track.
“Essentially, we are ruled through clans, which then are ranked socially and politically by generation. Not generation as in blood descendants but generation by creation.” Eras shifted a bit as she gestured to her fangs. “Purebloods can create vampire brethren, fledglings, through a process I will not explain for reasons. These are known as 1st generations and resemble what you’re used to except things like weakness to silver and garlic. Honestly, I have no clue as to where that comes from. As you expect, anyone they turn are 2nds and they make 3rds. There are rules in place for those who are 4th generation though because at that point, for unknown reasons, the created creature is not a vampire but a Parafron, a bloodthirsty hunter that loses its mind within the first 100 years.”
Nedzu seemed to catch the implication because his eyes seemed to gleam brighter, if that was possible.
“You're a clan leader.” He simply stated. Eras nodded with a small smirk.
“Yes, as you may have noticed, I have a… mark... on my neck. Contrary to belief, I didn’t get a tattoo. I was born with it to mark what clan I’m from. A side effect from being an origin. My clan, however, is smaller than the rest due to my specific responsibilities that come with the mark.”
She could tell Nedzu noticed she was skirting around names and titles. Thankfully the chimera simply nodded and looked towards his computer. His smile dimmed and the gleam faded from his eyes as he turned back.
“Seems the Bakugo’s have arrived! Present Mic is currently meeting and leading them here.”
Eras nodded and she returned her now narrowed gaze to an All Might who squirmed. He had definitely forgotten her ire during her and Nedzu’s convo.
A mistake.
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Muska was very concerned.
Why?
Greenie was very concerning.
When Eras had left, Muska turned back to greenie who had been spluttering still from Eras' blatant appreciation for saving her ass. The teen looked shocked, as if he didn’t just save her from third degree chemical burns. Sighing, which grabbed the teen’s attention back to her, Muska raised an eyebrow and stared at Midoriya.
“Did you expect her not to thank you? You literally dragged me out of the way of an explosion while I was frozen. Admittedly, not my best moment. You acted just like a hero and all that jazz, you deserve the thanks. Oh btw, when Eras means if you need anything, she means if you need anything. Even hiding a body she’d help as long as she gets plausible deniability.” Muska said, watching as very green eyes started to water.
At the last bit, Midoriya let out a wet snort and held a hand to his mouth to muffle it. Then he darted up, ramrod straight, as he returned wide eyes to Muska’s. He seemed to search her for something which made Muska more than just a little confused.
“Do you mean it?”
It was softly said. She almost didn’t hear it, but when she did she was even more confused.
“Mean what?”
“That I acted like a h-hero?”
“Of course? Why would I lie about that?” she asked, confusion lacing every word in genuine puzzlement.
It seemed that was the breaking point because Midoriya broke out into sobs. Not knowing what to do, Muska stared wide-eyed as her new friend(?) started to break down in front of her. Not knowing if touch would help, which she also really didn’t want to do because she wasn’t fond of contact with people she didn’t know well (nor did she know what to say), she just stared awkwardly. The part that worried her most though, was how near silent his crying was. As if he wouldn’t, no couldn’t, make a sound.
The sobs tapered off and Muska sat up and turned towards Midoriya. She made sure he calmed down enough to listen, but not quite enough for the sheepish ‘I’m sorry’ to finish coming out of his mouth.
“It's a fine greenie. If you’d be willing, mind explaining if I did something wrong? I also assume I’m on friendship level one considering it’s the second day of school so I don’t expect answers but I’d appreciate a heads up. Are they at least happy tears?” Muska made sure her features were softer than normal, a hard earned skill since she had a resting bitch face that scared people away when she wasn’t focused on playing nice.
That and the barking. Could you blame her if it worked in keeping assholes away?
Midoriya snapped his head up and started throwing his hands around in a rejection gesture before he whipped off excess tears in order to speak over the floodgates of his eyes. Seriously, he could probably fill a bathtub.
“Oh no no, these are happy tears! It’s just, no one has ever really said that to me before. The hero thing. So I was just… really happy?” A hand raised to sheepishly hold the back of Greenie's neck as left over tears spilled and a bright red blush poked through tan freckled skin.
“Why wouldn’t they? I mean Hero’s seem pretty important to Japanese society so like, there must have been a few?” Muska said. This conversation was giving her very bad vibes. Like curtains that block you from seeing someone in a hospital bed. All ominous and nerve wracking.
“I uh-” He cuts off, thinking hard about what he was about to say. He glanced over a few times, soaking in the honest confusion on her face, and possibly going over every detail of their meetings so far this year.
“I- I well, I may have manifestedmyquirkduringtheentranceexam-” Midoriya stuttered and launched the words out of his mouth fast enough that they were barely intelligible, only to slam his mouth shut with a click and wide eyes.
“Ok? I am…. Still very confused here. What does manifesting your quirk that late have to do with the hero bit? Granted that does explain your lack of control.” Muska added, somewhat regretting the last bit when Midoriya flinched,
Then, he shot up ramrod straight and disbelief started to enter his eyes as he processed her last statement.
“I was- I was quirkless most of my life?” He added, his posture defensive and prepared to take a hit. Emotionally or physically.
“So?”
A minute passed. Then 2 more.
Midoriya promptly burst into tears again and Muska sighed. A world weary heavy sigh.
She’s so done with everything today.
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Tags:
@baguettehead
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an evening with night.
|| quick study in boris’s pov. ended up being his view of theo’s ptsd while they’re living together in new york, years after Everything. he just wants to help. || ao3
It was seven at night and Boris had hot soup and sandwiches from Theo’s favorite deli tucked under his arm. It was a bit late for dinner, but Boris also knew Theo never ate without him. It wasn’t an agreed upon or even announced rule, just something Boris noticed. Even if Theo did eat without him, when Boris was horrifically late as he sometimes was, Theo would still sit down and pick at Boris’s food, having an echo of his meal.
There was no need to rush, but Boris found he had no patience that day for any sidewalk traffic. He weaved around evening walkers and giggling couples. He ducked around scaffolding over the block before their apartment building. That morning when he’d left, he’d waved up to the workers-- three of them having previously worked for him on a Job. Nice men, all of them. By then though, no one was working. It was dark out and the entire city seemed to be tucking in early.
The lobby was slightly less empty than the street-- somehow-- a few other tenants milling in from outside and heading up to their beds. Boris waved to the two men at the front desk-- and one of them waved him over.
“Mister Decker! Good evening, how are you?” The man-- boy, really-- smiled. His face was covered in hormonal acne and his voice cracked as he incorrectly said Boris’s last name. It was the name all their mail was addressed to because Boris was very tired of things being sent back because dumb Americans couldn’t spell his name. He understood why the boy (Antony perhaps?) called him by Theo’s last name. It also wasn’t really a bad thing. Not at all a bad thing.
“Very good-- have dinner and am very hungry. And you? Busy day? Excitement at all?” Boris liked making small talk. It made people feel good-- and that was also never a bad thing.
"We’re alright, Boris, we’re doing alright.” The other man said before turning and looking at the mail shelves behind him. Jean Paul was Boris’s favorite of the two-- he always laughed at Boris’s jokes and was the first to put Theo at ease whenever they walked into the building together-- which was still something Theo stumbled through uncomfortably. “Got a package for you. Thought I’d give it to Theo when he came by after work but, never showed.”
“Theo is not back from work?” Boris tried to remember if there was a phone chime he had forgotten to answer.
“Never left today.” Antony added, typing something out on the desk computer in front of him. Boris was glad he wasn’t looking at him, he didn’t want the boy to see the moment of confused panic on his face; it could worry him, someone so young.
“Hm. Maybe he is feeling ill today. I will go up and see. Thank you, thank you. Have good night, both of you, yes?” Boris grabbed the package with his free hand and started off for the elevator. Jean Paul and Antony waved as the doors closed over.
It took Boris five minutes just to get a hand free enough to get his keys out-- only to find that the door was unlocked. He slid the package in with his foot as he stepped inside, kicking the door closed.
“Potter?” Boris kicked off his shoes and padded into the kitchen first. He placed the food down on the counter and poked around to the small dining room. The curtains were still closed by the table, their home shut out from acknowledging the day-- well, night by then. “Potter, where are you? Everything okay?”
Finally, a slow answer. “The couch.”
“Theo!” Boris backed through the kitchen and looked through the cut-out over the sink. He saw Theo slowly propping himself up and turning to find his voice. “Are here! Men downstairs had said you were not at work-- did not see you leave! Did you stay here all day?”
Boris spoke, almost, with a kind of excitement. Not because he wanted Theo to be in a poor mood, but because he was excited to turn it around with the surprise quart of matzo ball soup and sausage and pepper grinder. Theo had never said it was his favorite, but Boris could tell whenever they went to the deli for lunch, he had a certain joy waiting for his food. Boris wanted to hand over the food and see that joy appear suddenly.
Instead though, he saw that Theo was not just feeling poorly. He looked it too. Theo was still wearing what he wore to bed: a ripped, old gray shirt from their Vegas years (it was so old Boris didn’t even know who’s it was by then) and his plain, blue boxers. His hair was poking out in different directions as if he’d been restlessly rolling around all day. Which he probably was. There were crease marks on Theo’s face where he’d been pressed against the pillows for hours. His eyes were on Boris, but they weren’t looking at him.
“Theo, what is wrong? You look very bad.”
“Thanks.” Theo ducked his head. His neck cracked audibly. Boris winced and walked around to the couch.
“Why are you like this? What are you on? Drinking? Take something?” Boris wasn’t sure what was in the house except maybe some Xanax. They had cut out the harder stuff in the past three years. They wanted to see the other live a long time-- which of course meant they both had to stop. Fair was fair. “Who did you buy from?”
“I’m not... I’m not high, Boris.” Theo swatted in front of him, despite Boris not coming into his personal space. “I’m just tired.”
“What has happened?” Boris sat on the edge of the couch. “Potter?”
Theo sighed and closed his eyes. He clenched his jaw, muscles all the way up to his temples tensing. “The construction... It... I heard them this morning.”
“Keep you awake? Oh, I will talk to them then! I know half of the group there. Very understanding men! If I tell them--”
“No.” Theo opened his eyes but he didn’t look up at Boris again. “I heard the construction when I was sleeping and... it woke me up and.. it sounded.” Another sigh. “It sounded like an explosion.”
Boris reached for Theo’s hand, hesitating to counteract Theo’s own involuntary retraction from the touch. After a moment, their two hands slotted together. Theo stared at their fingers, tangling them.
“You are upset. Reminded of... before. Have had long day, yes? All alone, in here? That is long day, very hard on you, Potter. I am sorry mother is gone and ghost of fear will not leave you. Very sorry... But I am here now! Not alone now.” Boris smiled and lowered his head to fit into Theo’s distracted eye-line. “I brought you food, Potter. You need good meal-- and then we take bath! Oh, yes. We sit and relax you and--”
“I’m not hungry.” Theo said curtly. He pulled his hand away from Boris’s and laid back down. He rolled over and faced the back of the couch. “Eat without me.”
“But Theo--”
“I said eat without me. I don’t want any.” Theo’s voice was muffled, He rested a hand over his face, just under his glasses.
“Is your favorite though. Called in before I left to make sure was ready when I got there. Your soup, hot sandwich, both.” Boris shook Theo gently, resting his hands on his waist. “Potter, have to eat with me. I can hear stomach grumbling. Hungry, very hungry.”
“Boris, please, I’m not in the fucking mood today.” He rolled his head back to look at Boris, exposing his red, bleary eyes and tight, pinched expression. “I spent half the morning thinking I was thirteen I don’t want to play house right now, okay!” He shouted.
Boris wasn’t sure if it was the way Theo shoved him-- or the way he felt the unflattering urge to grab Theo and hold him tightly-- but Boris wanted to hit Theo. He felt a hot tension in his bicep as if he could bring his arm back... but he’d never bring it down on him. Oh god never. They weren’t fifteen anymore. They weren’t shoving each other into dark, under-chlorinated swimming pools. They weren’t deprived of touch. Boris could take Theo and hold him, if he wanted. It was just that, if Boris hit him there could be no room for argument. He could try and make Theo feel the warmth of his skin on his without refusal-- without deprivation.
“Sit up.” Boris said, standing back from the couch. “Potter, sit up. Put feet on the ground. Sit up.” Still, Boris did not touch Theo, but he pointed with enough force Theo slowly pushed himself vertical, his bare feet pressing down on the wood floor. “Will not let you sulk-- feel upset? Yes, cannot stop you. But this... this! Doing more harm than good for you. Will feel worse when morning comes and you are still unfed! No shower! Are not drunk orphans no more, Theo. Have house! Have good life. Let it help you.”
It wasn’t screaming if Boris was desperate to help. It wasn’t raising his voice if he was doing it to get Theo to hear over whatever was in his head. He wasn’t like his father if he kept his hands to himself and yelled only the nice things. Boris couldn’t be like his father if he genuinely loved someone. He got that from his mother.
Theo rolled his wrists and looked at Boris, resigned but not unwilling. “What did you get me? A-And you got yourself something too, right?”
“Pfft, Potter. You insult me.”
Boris walked back to the kitchen and grabbed the deli bag. He ripped a fistful of paper towels to take as place settings-- Theo would not let them eat on the coffee table without any cover-- and ducked down to grab a bottle of wine from under the cabinets. Before Boris emerged again in the living room, or met Theo’s eyes through the wall cut-out, he thought of Theo drinking that night. The heavy slosh in Boris’s hand would only amplified with whatever heavy, thick darkness was in Theo. He’d black out again. He’d start screaming and crying. He’d try and climb out the window-- try and find his mother in a cloud of smoke that had dissipated ten years before.
Boris put the bottle back and hurried out to Theo, smiling and hoping to appear aloof.
“Hungry, yes?”
"Kind of starving.” Theo was exhausted enough to agree.
“Good thing you have kept me around, eh? Boris keeps you fed and happy. Good roommate, no?” Boris sat beside Theo on the couch, nudging his side with obnoxious eagerness. “Good man to have around.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess.” Theo muttered, cracking the smallest but least reluctant smile. “He’s pretty good to have around-- wait, did you get me soup?”
Boris burst out laughing at Theo’s sudden distraction-- he had to. If he didn’t laugh at it, at how much life and focus was missing from Theo’s face as he came back to reality, Boris would surely get upset.
It was usually a strange sadness; not one that most people spoke about in explorations of their darker moments. Seeing Theo so absent and crumpled, Boris’s felt like he fell backwards into a tunnel. Going and going, falling down down down. He sunk, feeling like he was stomping his way down the street after telling his best friend-- without words-- that he needed him to stay, but left abruptly anyway. He felt helpless by his own doing. When Boris felt upset, he felt like he was stranded on that burning hot asphalt all over again, thinking he’d never have to stop running. That he’d just fall over and drop dead first.
"Is okay? It is warm enough?” Boris cupped the container with his hands.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine.” Theo took the soup and sat back on the couch, resting the warmth against his chest. “It’s fine... Thank you.”
"Of course, of course.” Boris leaned back too. He rested his feet on the edge of the coffee table. Tired, but with no need to take off again.
---
Theo had this very strange habit of only existing at night. Not that he wasn’t active or didn’t do anything in daylight, but the Theo that worked with Hobie was a far different one than the one that trudged home after five o’clock. Every memory Boris had of Theo-- of his Theo-- was in the cool, summer darkness. The harsh grey winter night. Three in the morning when they both had to get up at six for errands and work. There was a safety in night, Boris knew. He also knew there was a danger in it, in having the world beyond the flickering reach of a streetlamp fall away completely.
After eating their dinner, Boris knew they had found the safe kind of evening. The bathroom was dimly lit with the runoff street lights streaming through the window. Theo was sitting in their bathtub, arms draped over the sides. Boris was on the floor beside him, recounting his day-- something he was too busy eating to do earlier.
“I tried coffee place you keep telling me about. Went in and asked for tea way I like-- and actually gave it to me! So hot nice woman put it in two cups and little, uh, neck tie.”
“Collar.” Theo said languidly. “It’s a coffee collar, but same thing.”
“Collar! Yes, cup had collar-- and two shirts! HA!” Boris nudged Theo’s arm. His finger lifted as he laughed. “Then had meeting with Misham-- was fire down on west eight-one. Misham knows people who work fire, a few very impressive antiques may have been too burnt to be saved... Boo-hoo, so sad, yes?”
“Hm.” Theo lifted his finger again. He seemed to be trying to match the steaming bath water in terms of similar states of matter. “Wait, what?”
“Nothing. More surprises for you soon, Potter. Few days time.”
“I think we need to investigate your definition of the word ‘surprise’.” Theo said, turning his head to Boris. He’d kept his glasses on, his tired but attentive eyes finding Boris sharply. “Today it was dinner, last week it was one hundred year old whiskey, a month ago you said you almost bought me an entire new set of dishware because I drunkenly said ours was tacky... Boris, these aren’t surprises, they’re ambushes.”
"Ack, do not know what you are talking about. Are nice things.” Boris shifted and recrossed his ankles. “You are hungry, like to drink-- and made big sale last week! You surprise first with good job-- and do not like dishes we have. All important gifts.”
Theo licked his lips and let his head loll back to center. “You’re crazy. You’re just a spendthrift that’s just a bit too romantic for your own taste.” His fingers lifted once more. Boris finally noticed the motion of his hand was not an echo of the water’s slow waves, but a slow search in the open air.
Boris reached up and let Theo’s fingers bump into his own. Theo wrapped his fingers around one of Boris’s, letting his wrist hang loosely in the air. He’d closed his eyes, the blend of moonlight and neon washing over his face. Theo wasn’t quite ready for sunshine, but Boris would take it. He’d soak it in with Theo, leaning his cheek against the porcelain edge.
“Should talk about your day, Potter.” Boris said. “Is no good to sit on it.”
“Right now I’m sitting on my ass in boiling hot water cooking like a crab.” He laughed.
“Theo.”
"I’m fine. I just... Had a nightmare.” A pause. “While I was awake. No big deal. I have them all the time.” A longer pause. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it... What did I ever do before?”
“Try to kill yourself.” Boris said. Theo looked at him out of the corner of his eye; Boris had forgotten to soften his words. “Not best way to deal, is what I mean.”
"Am I supposed to... cope or something?” Theo pulled the rest of Boris’s hand into his own. “Grieve? What the fuck does that even-- I can’t do that.”
"Have not tried.” Listen, Boris may have had to kick a heroine addiction in the past two years, but he was at least half way alright with the fact his mother was dead and his father was probably the same. Is was what they did to Boris when they were alive that kept him up sometimes.
Death? That was the easy part-- for Boris at least.
“I’m trying.”
“Are not.”
“Boris, I fucking swear--” Theo tightened his grip on Boris’s hand. “I... I am trying-- and don’t say to try harder or so help me God, I’ll dunk your head in this water right now.”
It also seemed Theo also had to laugh at it all. His chuckle sounded like phlegm loose in his lungs, coming up with a hoarse cough and sniffle. His head fell back to the side, looking at Boris. The steam from the water had condensed on the cool, exposed porcelain and was slippery enough to slowly let Theo slip further into the water. His legs were bent and he left himself gently wash away.
“The water’s going to be hot for a while. Want to get in?” Theo’s shoulders were fully submerged.
“No, no. Am fine out here. Had very long day, don’t want to ruin bath with-- ack-- dirt.”
“I didn’t ask you because I wanted you to be clean.” Theo said, his chin touching the surface of the water. “I’m asking because I want you to be a little more naked than you are right now.”
Boris laughed again, full and warm. “Potter, do not use me as distraction.”
“I didn’t say I was.” Theo looked out of only one eye, a smirk lifting his cheeks. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” Theo pulled their hands into the water as he dipped under, just up to his nose. Boris reached and grabbed Theo’s glasses with his other hand, holding them still as Theo slipped out from under them.
“Avoiding what I said does nothing, Potter.” Boris placed the glasses on his own head and rested his chin on the edge of the tub. His right arm was nearly up to his elbow in water, his sleeve soaked. He counted the bubbles from Theo’s slow exhale-- or possible laugh-- as they rose to the surface.
It seemed they were both waiting for Theo to seize upward, startled by the pressure of the bath water; it always snuck up on him when he relaxed into it. Boris pulled Theo’s towel closer with his foot, quietly preparing to have to start talking in circles about things that didn’t really matter in order to distract Theo from screaming and thinking he was going to suffocate, despite how much he was hyperventilating.
Under the water, Theo splayed out Boris’s fingers and rested his hand against his chest. The heel of Theo’s palm pressed against the back of Boris’s hand, cracking parts of his fingers accidentally. It wasn’t frantic or desperate, just firmly intentional. Theo should’ve come up already, Boris thought, but he was testing himself-- not for lung capacity, but some other limit that neither really wanted to acknowledge existed in both of them.
They weren’t invincible, and Boris really hated to admit it. They’d treated their bodies and minds as such when they were young, and now they were scared to acknowledge they damage they’d done-- or left festering for ten years. Seeing the evidence so clearly-- even underwater, gripping his hand-- was like seeing a crack in a ceiling. Growing growing growing, right over his head, unless he did something about it. They’d both die in the rubble.
“Actually, Potter.” Boris said loudly, pulling on Theo’s hand. “In I go. Get back.”
“What?” Theo surfaced and spit out water. He wiped his eyes, squinting in the dark. “Did you say something?”
“Sit back, I am getting in.” Boris started pulling his shirt up over his head, not sparing time to unbutton it.
“Well that was fast.” Theo lowered his knees and sat back. He pulled his hands into the water with a soft splash. “Afraid I’m going to drown in here or something?”
Boris had to laugh, again. He wasn’t sure he was as subtle that time, but Theo’s face remained amused-- unaware of the cathartic numbness. “HA! Yes. Or something, Potter. Something.”
#boreo#boreo fic#tgf fic#my fics#this was a fun experiment!!!! enjoy her!!!!#would love to write more about boris and how he looks at things#but wanted to do something shorter first#thank you for letting me write something fun for myself
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You’re It - Jerome Valeska x Reader
You're working a job with the infamous Jerome Valeska. This will end in nothing but trouble.
MASTERLIST
Requested by @pleasforhelp
Warnings: Bank robbery, explosions, threat of violence
You had been perched on the roof for an hour before Jerome arrived. He did so less than subtly, slamming the door open dramatically so it clattered against the wall. He whistled as he approached you and crouched down beside you.
“How’s observation going?” You shush him, but he just laughs at you.
“If you’ll excuse me, Valeska, I’m trying not to get caught,” You hiss, picking up your camera to show him what you’ve seen. “Not many guards, two stationed at the front and back entrances, and a pair patrolling: they make a full circle of the building every twenty minutes. Shift changes at ten, goes to the night shift.”
He grins, looking you up and down, impressed. “Nice work. You should charge more.”
“Thanks, I’ll put you down as a reference on my resume.” You look up at him, mouth crooked into a smile.
“No problem.”
The two of you stand together, looking down at the bank.
“So, I’m assuming you have a plan?” You ask – you know from his reputation that he isn’t entirely reliable.
“I’m not big on plans,” He admits without shame. You punch him in the arm, frustrated. He glares at you and tries to punch you back, but you dodge quickly.
“It’s a good thing I am.” You begin to lead him out of the building, although he still walks slightly in front of you despite not knowing where you’re going. His arrogant ass just has to be in charge. “There’s a side door; chained up, but I doubt that’s a problem. If we time it right the patrolling guards will be at the opposite side of the building, and the door guards will be changing shift. It’s the safest time to break in.”
He gives a low whistle. “Hot and smart. You’re a real catch.” You walk past him and turn around, stopping him from going any further.
“You couldn’t catch me if you tried, Valeska.” You narrow your eyes at him, the tension between the two of you rising until you walk away, snapping it like an elastic band.
“Oh really? Now that’s a challenge,” He chuckles to himself before following you to the end of the alley.
*
You broke into the building with ease, just like you’d said. Jerome wasn’t usually one for subtlety, but he would make an exception for you. He needed help, help only you could give, and you didn’t go in all guns blazing. Getting out, however – he was in charge of that. The side door leads to a narrow corridor which opened into a wider hall. Now that you were in, secrecy didn’t matter. Jerome wanted to be caught, and you were unrecognisable. The hood over your head and the mask covering your face ensure that. Jerome whistled as you made your way past offices and meeting rooms, swinging his gun and occasionally knocking over furniture and smashing windows. No alarms went off – thanks to you – so the only sounds were footsteps and the breaking of glass.
You quickly reached the entry hall. Really, it was an idiotic design, having the vault so exposed. But you had to admit it was aesthetically pleasing.
“You can get in, right?” Jerome asked you. You rolled your eyes, quickly gaining access to one of the computers.
“It’s easy. Couple of magnetic locks, some code, all just fun and games. You -” You glance at him over your shoulder, smirking, “- You can play with your spray-paints.” He laughs sarcastically at your teasing, but does so, beginning to mark up the walls with graffiti.
“What about the cameras?”
“All sorted.”
“You’re the best, (Y/N)!” He calls jovially and you chuckle.
“I know I am.” You begin typing your way through the security systems, breaking through each barrier easily. Jerome threw an empty can over his shoulder, opening another one to add to the mess of colour on the wall.
It took about ten minutes for you to get past the final lock on the vault, letting the alarm go off at the same time.
“Police ETA, eight minutes.” You check your watch. “Better hurry.” Jerome joins you and together you open up the oversized door. Inside were hundreds upon hundreds of drawers, each containing the valuables of Gotham’s citizens.
“Well, this is disappointing.” Jerome wanders in and examines the space.
“What were you expecting?” You follow him. “Piles of cash and gold bars?”
“Well, duh.” You sigh at him, shaking your head trying not to laugh.
“Idiot.”
“Just get it unlocked.”
“Yes sir,” You said mockingly, walking past him to work the lock of one of the larger drawers.
“Hmm, sir…” Jerome considered the word, letting it roll around in his mouth. “I like that.”
“Then I’ll never say it again.” He groans but you just ignore him, succeeding with the lock. You move onto the next one as Jerome grabs the jewels inside. The fourth one is what you’re really looking for. Blueprints for the electrical and gas lines of all of Gotham City. It wasn’t clear why they were kept in the bank, but it made no difference to you. “Got ‘em.” You roll them up and secure them with a rubber band, slipping the roll into your bag. A few more drawers, other valuables stolen to cover up your tracks, and then it was onto the next step.
You reach into your bag and begin to pull out everything you need for the bombs, tossing pieces of equipment haphazardly. Within a few minutes they were planted and police sirens were blaring outside. “Ready?”
“Ready.” A sinister grin appeared on Jerome’s face and he began to stride towards the doors while you hurry out the side window. With all the attention focussed on the doors where Jerome is now standing, trigger in hand, you can slip through it easily. Hopefully, Jerome carries out his end of the plan.
*
Jerome basked in the attention from the police, lights and guns pointed at him. He thrived on it.
“Now, I’m on a time limit, so we’ll have to keep this quick.”
“Valeska!” Jim Gordon had arrived, striding past the rows of cars to stand at the very front, ever the hero. But Jerome cut him off.
“Not now, Jimbo. I’ve got a ride to catch.” He hopped down one of the steps, and the air filled with the sound of twenty guns cocking. He sighed at the reaction, almost disappointed. “Come on, guys. You can’t shoot me ‘til you know what I’m doing.” Gordon raised a hand, signalling for the other officers to hold back.
“What are you doing then?”
“Ten bombs, in the vault. Hidden away. You have about twenty minutes to find them.” He didn’t quite remember the time you told him, but that seemed right. “Better hurry. And if you don’t believe me…” He looked past them, to the seemingly innocuous building across from the bank. “Catch.” He tossed the trigger, releasing the dead man’s switch. Gordon caught it and the building exploded.
That was your cue. While the police were distracted by the fire and rubble falling from the sky you sped up to the steps of the bank on the motorbike that you’d been waiting on. Jerome quickly sat behind you, his arms around your waist, and just as they noticed that they’d been distracted you revved the engine and were off. Gunshots were fired at you, none of them hitting, and you heard a car start to follow. They wouldn’t catch you. Jerome cackled in your ear as you twisted around corners, making tight turns and going down narrow streets you knew they couldn’t take. You didn’t stop until you had reached the edge of the city, outside a warehouse by the river.
“Nice one,” You let Jerome climb off before you do so too, quickly hopping to sit on the nearby wall. He joins you, pleased with himself.
“Couldn’t have done it without you.” He grins. You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously – Jerome is never nice; not without an ulterior motive.
“Well, I’ll say “You’re welcome” when I receive my payment.”
“Here ya go.” He pulls out an envelope from inside his jacket and hands it to you. You open it, counting the cash inside quickly. It’s all there.
“You’re welcome, Jerome. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
“Oh really?” He cocks an eyebrow and you roll your eyes again.
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
That’s it. You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him towards you, pressing your lips against his. You had only intended for it to be a brief kiss, but Jerome had other ideas. His hands locked behind the back of your head, holding you against him. You didn’t bother struggling, choosing instead to enjoy yourself. There was no harm in kissing him, really. The scarring around his lips didn’t even bother you. You were far too distracted by his tongue pressing against your mouth, by his hands roaming your body. You pulled back, gasping for breath, and found him grinning smugly.
“You’re so fucking annoying, Valeska.”
“You like it.” He’s so proud of himself.
“Do I?” You smirk, before giving him a shove so that he fell over the edge and into the river below. He landed with a splash, quickly surfacing as he treaded water.
“(Y/N)!” He sounded furious, but you could tell he was trying not to laugh as he began to swim to the nearby ladder.
“See ya later!” You called down before you set off on your bike.
You should probably increase security in your place. Jerome would surely come calling soon.
MASTERLIST
#jerome valeska fanfic#jerome valeska fanfiction#jerome valeska#jerome valeska/reader#jerome valeska/you#jim gordon#gotham fanfic#Gotham#gotham imagine#gotham x reader#gotham fanfiction
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Secret relationship with famous Klaine
The text comes a couple of minutes before the car pulls up to the hotel.
Kurt: Room 402
For the first time that day, maybe weeks, a genuine smile tips up Blaine’s mouth. A warmth spreads through him at knowing tonight he won’t be sleeping alone. Like he’s been doing for the past two months.
He sends a quick reply to Kurt.
Blaine: Will be there soon.
It’s a hopeful notion that flies out the window the moment the car stops in front of the hotel and Blaine sees the crowd of paparazzi and fans that block the entrance. The soon he just sent Kurt has just been obliterated before his eyes. It’ll be a good half hour before he makes it to the front doors. Because he is not one to ignore his fans; to not give them the attention they so graciously bestow upon him day after day with his music.
The screams that greet him the moment he opens the car door is deafening. He almost regrets listening to his manager when he told him it would be better if he was seen entering the hotel. But he can’t bring himself to regret any of what he’s greeted with. He signed up for this when he made the choice to be a musician. This was something he knew would be part of the package that came with fame.
“Holy shit!”
Blaine looks at Nora sitting next to him at the surprise in her voice. Her eyes have gone comically wide as she stares out at the mass of people that wait just outside the car. He lets out a soft laugh at her expression.
Nora blinks away her surprise. “You would think after a year I would get used to this.”
“I know what you mean.” It’s only been over two years since he broke onto the scene with his first hit and he’s yet to get used to everything that followed. “Come on,” he slips on sunglasses and holds out a hand to her, “let’s get this over with.”
“Yeah.” Nora slips her hand in his. “I have a gorgeous girlfriend waiting for me.”
“Ditto. Except replace girlfriend with boyfriend.”
Nora lets out a short laugh.
The process of slowly trying to make his way through the crowd is exhausting and frustrating. When he isn’t dealing with paps asking all kinds of intrusive and annoying questions about Nora and himself, he’s dealing with fans trying to yank and pull him in all kinds of directions. Luckily, Owen, his bodyguard, is there to make it known not to touch him or Nora. And pushing away people who don’t listen to his warnings.
It takes a good forty minutes to make it inside the building. He breathes a deep sigh of relief when he steps onto the elevator and the doors shut.
“That never gets easy.” He runs a hand through his curls that his stylist spent an hour achieving the “messy” look she was going for.
“You can say that again,” Nora agrees with a huff. “I think someone elbowed me in the boob.” She rubs her left boob, an annoyed, slightly pained expression on her face.
“I’m sure Jo will love kissing it better.”
Nora grins. “She will.”
Blaine chuckles as he thinks of Nora’s girlfriend for the past ten months.
When they agreed to this whole ruse—the fake dating for the public—neither of them expected for it to carry on as long as it has. It was only meant to be something done for a few months to take the suspicion off both their sexualities. But things changed and grew more complicated when they both met their significant others. It was no longer about protecting themselves, but the person they loved. Luckily for both of them, they each have significant others who understand their predicaments.
The elevator dings and the doors open on the third floor.
“This is me.” Nora pushes off the back wall. “Tell Kurt hi for me,” she says before walking off to be with her girlfriend.
The doors close and the elevator climbs a couple more floors. It comes to a stop and he steps off when the doors open. Owen in step behind him.
The door to room 402 opens seconds after he knocks. The sight of his boyfriend makes his heart jump.
After two months of only seeing him on the screen of his phone or computer, it’s wonderful to finally see him in person again.
From one second to the next he’s pulling Kurt close and crashing their mouths together in an explosive and hungry kiss. It’s amazing to be able to do this again. To hold his boyfriend close and kiss those lips he’s spent months dreaming about.
Those soft, luscious lips he’s missed part under his and he slips his tongue past them. Massages his tongue against Kurt’s; swallows down the soft moan he releases. Grins when he presses closer to him and he feels just how much Kurt has missed him.
A throat loudly clears behind him. It’s only then that he remembers Owen. He reluctantly pulls away from Kurt, whose eyes are clouded with desire and cheeks are flushed.
“Tell Carl that I’ll meet up with him tomorrow,” he tells Owen.
Owen bows his head. “Yes, sir.” He turns on his heel and walks away.
Blaine doesn’t waste a second longer. He picks up Kurt and kicks the door shut before locking it and carrying his boyfriend to the bed he has no plans to leave for the rest of the day.
Hours later, after he’s momentarily had his fill of his boyfriend, he lies there watching him with a smile on his lips.
“What?” Kurt asks as he traces Blaine’s features with the tip of his finger.
It’s something Blaine noticed Kurt does whenever he sees him again after they’ve spent a significant amount of time apart. Almost as if he’s trying to relearn him.
“I’m happy you’re here,” he tells him in reply.
“Me too.”
“It’s great your film schedule and my tour dates lined up like they did or we wouldn’t have seen each other for another month and half.” The thought of that makes Blaine shudder. He can only go so long without seeing Kurt, and having his fix of him. And two months was pushing it mighty close in his eyes.
“Mmhmm.” Kurt skims his finger up along Blaine’s nose and forehead, and he runs his fingers through his hair that is now really messed up from sex. “Mitch is pissed I’m here.”
“I’m sure he is.” Blaine makes a face at mentioning Kurt’s manager that hates him with every fibre of his being. Simply because he doesn’t like the idea of his A list celebrity client in a relationship with another guy. At least his manager is a little more lenient when it comes to his relationship with Kurt.
“What did he say?”
Kurt drops his hand and tucks it under himself when he turns to his front. “He told me I needed to break it off with you. That this was dangerous and someone could find out and leak it to the press. Blah blah blah.” He rolls his eyes. “Same old shit.”
“What did you say?” He knows his boyfriend. Knows the smart and sharp mouth he has on him. It’s one of the things that drew him to Kurt in the first place when they first met over a year ago.
“I told him to go fuck off so I could go fuck off.”
Blaine laughs and falls a bit harder for the firecracker of a man in bed with him.
“I expected nothing less.” He runs a hand down Kurt’s naked back. Brushes his fingers over the scratch marks now adorned on the pale skin.
Kurt proudly smirks.
“Nora says hi.”
“Nora’s here?”
“Yeah.”
“Great. Maybe we can hangout tomorrow.”
Of all the things he never expected when he introduced Kurt to Nora was how great of friends they would become. Which is great because it gives them an excuse should the paps ever photograph Kurt randomly showing up at his house.
“Jo’s here too,” he informs Kurt.
Kurt smiles. “Even better.” He turns to his side. “Looks like we were all thinking the same thing.”
“Oh yeah?” A grin turns up one corner of Blaine’s mouth. “What is that?”
“That mutual orgasms were needed.” Kurt pushes Blaine to his back and straddles him.
If someone were to tell him a few years ago that he would have a naked Kurt Hummel straddling his lap after spending hours in bed with him, he would have had their head checked. No way would he, a practical nobody, ever have someone as gorgeous and talented as Kurt. That’s why he thanks his lucky stars every day that this is his reality.
He bends an arm under his head. Grabs at Kurt’s thigh with his free hand. “And here I thought you would want to catch a show. I heard some big band was playing the venue out here today.”
“Is that so? A big band?” Kurt plants his hands on Blaine’s chest and minutely begins to rock his hips.
“Yup. Heard they’re amazing, too.”
“It’s a damn shame I missed it then, huh?”
“Sure is.” Blaine releases a soft moan at the feel of their cocks dragging together.
A sexy grin spreads across Kurt’s face. His voice comes out low and breathy when he talks. “That’s okay. I think I might know the lead singer. I’m sure he would be willing to give me a private show.”
“Is that so?” Blaine moves his arm from out under his head and grabs at Kurt’s hips. “What makes you think he would be up for that?”
Kurt reaches down between their bodies and grips his dick. “Oh, I think he’s up for it.”
Blaine groans and pushes up into Kurt’s fist. The glide of his hand is made better by all the precum from both of them that was smeared over his cock.
“I’m also positive he’s up for fucking me until I scream.”
That’s all Blaine needs to hear before he’s flipping them over, turning Kurt to his front, and raising his hips off the bed. He slicks himself up and pushes inside Kurt’s hot, tight channel.
Locked away in that hotel room with his boyfriend beautifully moaning beneath him, nothing else matters except that he’s happy and with the person he loves. The world not being privy to that information is fine by him.
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What “The Dark Knight” says about our bad politics
Waaay back in the summer of 2008, me and my dad drove up to Northern California to attend San Jose State University’s freshman orientation.
It was a long drawn out process where first-year students basically were told and shown a bunch of things they would forget and relearn by their first day anyways and culminated with all of us spending one night in the campus dorms so we could all get a taste of the “campus life” experience.
I wanted it to end badly for a couple reasons. Being an introvert, I was not comfortable sharing a room with anyone, let alone a stranger, for a night but more importantly, I was being kept from the biggest movie premiere of the year that day: “The Dark Knight.”
As soon as I woke up the next morning, I rushed my dad to find the nearest theater and purchased tickets immediately for a late-night screening. I was already a huge fan of “Batman Begins” but every trailer to Christopher Nolan’s epic follow-up indicated we were in for an even bigger blockbuster than before and I was beyond pumped.
(Me getting the fuck off campus to watch “The Dark Knight” that day.)
Two and a half hours later I left the theater blown away by the experience. “The Dark Knight” was everything, at the time, I was hoping for in a comic book movie; angsty, dark, edgy (all things I thought I was as a teen), cinematically sharp, thrilling, a fantastic score once again by the legendary Hans Zimmer, and fulfilled just about every fanboy wet dream I had at the time for a perfect Batman movie.
To this day it remains the most satisfying theatrical experience I’ve ever had seeing a movie, not that it’s my favorite movie of all-time anymore, mind you, but that I have never gone into a movie with such high expectations and had them blown away quite like that since.
(Conversely, this^ was my most disappointing experience...)
I’m a different person now, of course. If you were to wipe my memory of the film and had to watch it again today I doubt I would have the same fanboygasm I had then as the cynical 30-year-old I am now but I’ll argue that “The Dark knight” still remains a high mark, if not the standard, for comic book movies today.
That said, parts of this film have definitely not aged well. Visually the film still holds up, the action is still exciting, the performances are all stellar (though Bale’s Batman voice is still bad) but what hasn’t aged well, for me, are the movie’s politics.
“The Dark Knight” is, of course, a post 9/11 movie, in fact, it’s arguably the definitive one as its pop-cultural footprint dwarfs pretty much all within its sub-genre. This Nolan sequel deals heavily in themes of terrorism with its iconic villain The Joker, played maniacally by the late great Heath ledger, wreaking havoc across Gotham with various explosive devices. Though the Clown Prince is more an anarchist than someone with an ideology, like those in Al Qaeda or the Taliban, the results of his beliefs/non-beliefs are more or less the same; cause pandemonium and fear in the masses. Batman, representing the power of justice and order, does battle with this in a war to save Gotham’s soul and again this is still a damn entertaining and thrilling story.
(Seriously, it’s still a rock solid entry in the comic book movie genre.)
But where the film’s 9/11 politics become problematic is toward the end of the film when the Joker begins his final act to plunge Gotham into unstoppable chaos. Batman becomes desperate; The Joker has eluded him at every turn, always two steps ahead of him, escaping justice no matter what Bruce Wayne does so he concocts a plan to finally to locate and stop the Joker for good.
He creates an elaborate sonar system using every cell phone in Gotham, effectively creating a massive surveillance state to spy on its citizens in order to locate the Joker.
(And it’s the only time we have ever got the real Batman eyes on screen, damn it!)
Lucius Fox, played by Morgan Freeman, appropriately calls this out telling him he’s wrong and that he cannot support this but Batman insists that it’s the only way. Fox reluctantly agrees and tells him he’ll resign once this is over as he can’t morally support such a system. The sonar, of course, works and Batman is able to stop the Clown Prince once and for all and upon Fox entering his name into the sonar computer the program dissolves and is deleted presumably for good.
This is of course to wash Batman’s hands of this deed to the audience. Our protagonist knows this is wrong, the audience is told it is wrong but by ending the surveillance he shows he would never abuse such a program, that sometimes good men have to do terrible things to defeat evil and that makes it ok.
For years, as a bleeding heart liberal (at the time) who grew up in the Bush years but loved the hell out of this movie, I tried to reconcile with this part of the story because Batman was the hero. I thought maybe this kind of action is ok because if the “good guy” is in charge bad stuff is fine because he/she won’t abuse such power. That’s real justice, right?
The problem is in the real world, at the top, there really aren’t any good guys and they are counting on you to believe that they are when they get a hold of such power because that’s how we are programmed.
The Patriot Act, which was the signature Bush-era reform post 9/11, created our current surveillance state. In the interest of national security and ensuring those “dern turrists don’t go killing lil’ Timmy riding his tricycle out in Des Moines, Iowa” our elected leaders, both republican and democratic (make no mistake), effectively signed away our constitutional rights to “ensure our safety” by spying on us basically without warrants. The proponents proudly claimed its necessity in fighting the “War on Terrorism” and those naysayers either shouldn’t worry “if you have nothing to hide” or worse were un-American Taliban sympathizers.
For progressives, of course, this was an evil violation of our civil liberties but for many conservatives, this wasn’t a big deal. They are just trying to keep us safe after all.
But conveniently ignored by many on the left still today is the complicity they had in bringing about this era in warrantless surveillance. Yes, this policy started under Bush, of course, but it continued to be re-upped through the Obama administration and the Trump administration, not to mention revolving majorities in the House and Senate, showing no matter who was in charge they all liked the idea of keeping an eye on all of us with or without reason.
Considering the Patriot Act was made to win the “War on Terrorism” our leaders were never going to relinquish this power anyways because you can’t win a war on terrorism. Terrorism is not a country or a people, it’s an ideology behind many different ideologies. The US, no matter how you see it, be it as liberators or oppressors, will always have enemies and that’s all the reason they need to keep this power it seems.
Having the data on our lives mined like oil can easily be used against us in a variety of ways regardless of if any of us have terroristic or even criminal intentions. But for many in this country, it was only a problem if the wrong guy wielded that power. As soon as their “good guy” got in though, suddenly it was no big deal. I wonder why...
“The Dark Knight” puts forth a problematic view on who can and should wield supreme power, that even terrible choices can be made as long as the “right” person is the one making them.
Liberals are notorious for justifying them when it’s one of them who does it.
It’s a lie. A lie that both parties use to their advantage because they want you believe everything they do can be justified because you happen to be a part of their party; the “good guys” once again. But there is something extra cynical about the way liberals wield it as they parade themselves around as paragons and moral pillars against the Jokers of the Republican party.
For all the platitudes liberals give, that would make some superhero speeches seem benign, they wear masks about as well as the vigilantes do but not for the same reasons. When confronted by this blatant hypocrisy, liberal voters justify all kinds of horrible things as long as the other “bad guy” isn’t the one doing it. For all the shit Bush gets, and rightfully so, for plunging us into a military, financial, and humanitarian quagmire in the Middle East, Obama gets almost zero real pushback by liberals for effectively drone bombing the hell out of the same people. During these past three years Trump has more or less allowed ICE to run rampant on immigrant communities sure and liberals have been critical, again as they should, but who made the cages they were thrown into and who deported more of them during his first three years in office than Trump did?
(And once again, and I can’t emphasize this enough, Andrew Cuomo is NOT your fucking friend...)
Liberals often like to present themselves as the moral purveyors of good in the face of conservative opposition and they use it to their advantage to more or less do many of the same foul things those with R’s next to their name do. Sure, not all their actions are equally as evil but even then, we rarely truly hold either of our leaders feet to the fire because we believe their actions are somehow better because they have a “D” next to their name.
These horrific policies and actions will never see justice as long as we keep justifying them because the “right” person is behind them.
No, this is not an all sides are equally bad take. That discussion requires more nuance and for a different time, but I will say both sides are varying degrees of bad that should be taken seriously instead of not at all and can’t be pushed aside again and again and again because “the other guys are worse.”
We are running into the same situation today as our presidential election features a credibly accused rapist, sexual predator, who supports Bush-era tax cuts, who takes money from major corporate lobbyists, who is against Medicare for All, has open disdain for millenials, and not only supports but openly bragged about the aforementioned The Patriot Act.
Hmmm, sounds an awful lot like someone we know, huh?
You could argue that one of these two men mitigates, or even vastly mitigates, harm if in office and I’m not here to necessarily scold you for making what you feel is morally the least awful choice but the point still remains; we are justifying evil again because our “good guy” is in charge.
Being liberal, just on its own, does not vastly minimize the problematic nature of a bad person.
Regardless of how you feel about this election and what choice you plan to make this November (and again, I’m not here to tell you what to do), bad things and bad policies will be continued to be enacted by bad people because that’s what choices we’ve been given. There isn’t a good one and the most vulnerable will be hurt the most by it regardless of who wins. There is a reason so many are disillusioned with voting and it’s not just voter suppression laws.
I can already hear some of you screaming “OH MER GERD pURiTy TeStS,” but this is far more cynical a standard we have than simply choosing a less than perfect candidate. Many are already making rather tone-deaf comments about people being “privileged” for choosing not to compromise their morals anymore. What’s “privileged” is voting for the guy who will do less harm for you but ultimately still disproportionately harm more people of color no matter who is in office.
(The country and the world can really begin to truly heal when a Democrat is in charge of one of these Freedom Machines once again!)
Yes, I might agree that one is probably a net positive for the world at this point but to act like someone choosing to not participate anymore in what is effectively a never-ending cycle I can’t say I blame them either. At some point, our society has to draw a real line in the sand on these things with our leaders and force a more moral standard for our government instead of the status quo.
We can’t go on this endless “pragmatic” path picking “the lesser of two evils” until we gradually just become evil. You can make the argument that maybe the time isn’t now, and you might be right but when? These folks at the top are COUNTING on us accepting circumstances and justifying terrible beliefs and actions over and over again because of the state of our politics.
“The Dark Knight” believes that sometimes bad things must be done to defeat evil but the real world can be so much less cynical if we stopped compromising on our beliefs. It’s not entirely too late for us to do the right thing. We can’t go on forever letting bad behavior go because the “good guy” will be the one doing it instead of the other one.
Taking money from corrupt billionaires is wrong. Extra-judicially drone bombing the Middle East endlessly is wrong. Throwing migrants in cages like fucking animals is wrong. Rape and sexual assault are wrong. Mass warrantless surveillance is wrong. Doesn’t matter if its Batman or fucking Superman doing any of these things; immoral behavior cannot and should not be ever justified.
Otherwise, we really will live long enough to see ourselves become the villain...
Looking forward to the comments on this one...
#The Dark Knight#Batman#The Joker#joker#Christopher Nolan#DC comics#comics#comic books#super heroes#9/11#Terrorism#politics#Biden#Joe Biden#Democrats#Republicans#liberals#conservatives#leftist#bernie sanders#socialism#medicare for all#drone strikes#iraq#afghanistan#war#political#neoliberalism#neo liberal#centrist
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