#ah. that's the central thing here huh. i guess i really do need help.

[orcelito]

Probably am not gonna attend lab in the morning, bc I have complete certainty that if I do, I am going to have a complete mental breakdown (as if I haven't already been in the midst of one)

I'll email my professor if I'm unable to finish the lab by the end of the day. He's pretty understanding about this stuff, & if I get some points docked for being late, it's not the end of the world. I've been doing well in this class, overall.

What I AM going to do. Is call the damn psychological services in the morning. Bc Clearly, I am not coping well.

[amskvaris]

Have your OCs ever interacted before? I wonder how Taki would get along with Sabriel, since Ilma is low key angsty like Sabriel is too

I MEAN ON ONE HAND i haven't actually used sabriel in ages (i had to put the ilma stuff on her bc she already had the eyes) but i will try to make things up as i go. (no promises i didn't contradict myself on anyone's characterization though lmao. anyway)

-

taki being around ilma means she'd meet player!sabriel at some point, maybe during stia story. "Oh! You're Sabriel! I always hear about you but never met you!"

and sabriel was literally just taking a break away from people and watching central city from a place high up that she thought she'd be left alone at, but… guess not. she turns her head just a little to look at whoever found her. "… And you are?"

"I'm Taki. I help Ilma with research!"

"Ah." sabriel doesn't recognize the name but isn't in the mood for polite introductions. "How is he doing?"

"Getting better." big smile. "He's been alone for so long that he doesn't really know how good being around new people feels. Not yet, anyway."

"I see. It's good to hear he's improving." she doesn't need to say anything else and just turns her head back to watch central city. sounds like they both know how ilma feels.

"Yup." taki nods just to herself. "I'm trying to help him that way too. I think it's working."

sabriel just acknowledges that with a hum.

it's quiet for a bit. taki stares across the city too, smart enough to know not to say anything. sometimes the best company is silent company. also, central looks nice from up here. a good view!

and it's sabriel to break the silence after a belated realization she has no idea what taki meant. "… What way?"

instead of answering the question, taki giggles. "Because we're dating!"

-- huh??

sabriel turns back to stare at taki wide-eyed. she never ever ever expected ilma, of all people, would be interested in romance in the first place, much less Be Dating Someone.

but… now that she thinks about it, ilma is at the age where young love is feasible… though isn't he pretty attached to manon? although he still didn't seem to listen to manon any time sabriel saw them working together…

she's still struggling to believe it though. this taki girl sounds a bit too airheaded to be more than an assistant.

meanwhile taki just smiles a little less. she's not sure what she expected from the soon-to-be hero. "Well, it's okay. I'll try to be around next time you see him."

and they're both back to staring across the city.

taki still hasn't left. she knows exactly what sabriel is thinking about. that implied understanding over how ilma feels and now her disbelief that he would ever be dating... "You lost someone you love, didn't you?"

"I lost--" sabriel turns to face taki directly, wide eyes again-- "How did you… ?"

"You know how alone he feels and didn't believe he would date anyone." taki's smile is sad and soft at the same time now. "You understand what love is too, but you're not with anyone anymore. And as a Meteorn, you wouldn't have that kind of connection anyway."

is... is taki a genius in disguise too? is that why she's dating ilma?? sabriel doesn't do anything but blink and keep staring.

taki continues. "Meteorn are all supposed to have total amnesia, but you don't. Right?"

a sigh. "… I remember some, but not much."

"They must have meant a lot to you if you still remember them." taki hums. "Maybe it's not my place to assume, but… would they really want you to feel like this?"

sabriel relaxes. this is pretty intrusive, but taki doesn't seem to care and she does have a point.

"It's not like you have to forget them. You just have to accept they can't be at your side anymore. It would probably help to have new people support you too."

is she really getting a lecture from some girl she's never seen before that says she's dating ilma… ? sabriel still remains silent though. taki obviously means well, but these are things to think about later.

at least taki gets the hint. "Stuff like this doesn't make sense right away, but you'll figure it out eventually." she lifts herself right over the railing to sit on the bars with nothing but the sharp drop below.

... is she--

sabriel reaches for taki as a reflex, totally alarmed. is she going to jump from this high up? she doesn't seem the type to know how to glide, but--

too late. taki's already falling. sabriel doesn't even get over the rails herself in time before...

right before impact, taki slows her fall by the same glide skill and lands perfectly on her feet, brushes off her sides, looks back up and waves before running off.

…

blink blink. sabriel takes a deep breath. that was... a lot.

still, she has think about whatever just happened later and try to relax for now. back to leaning against the railing behind it.

... until someone else shows up, at least. clearly this isn't as secluded as she had hoped.

"Oh, there you are!"

ahh, right on time, aina found her too.

(at least she didn't show up in the middle of taki's lecture… that probably wouldn't go well, would it...)

[thefanficmonster]

My Kind

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warning: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having been chosen by the gang to be a guest streamer on today’s stream of Among Us, it’s safe to say Y/N’s super excited but also a bit nervous. The whole of her anxiety gets lifted off her when she meets someone with the exact same vibe as hers - yeah you guessed it.

Requested by @monizzle96 Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is! I hope you come across it and read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

This has to be the fiftieth time I’ve checked my setup in the past twenty four hours. But no, I’m definitely not nervous, what are you talking about. Pshhh. Nah, being nervous isn’t in my brand. Plus, what do I have to make me nervous - a group of famous streamers inviting me onto their stream to play Among Us with them because they enjoyed my own streams? Ok yeah, that’s a pretty good reason. Not gonna lie, I almost chucked my phone out of excitement when I received that DM from Toast, telling me they’d picked me to be their guest streamer for today’s date. My stomach was doing somersaults for a good forty-eight hours following that text and then the anxiety slowly started setting in fueled by the expectations they probably have of me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not inexperienced in the streaming field, I’ve been a streamer longer than some of the members of Toast’s streamer gang actually. But I never managed to garner that big of a following which I’m honestly quite ok with. I have a modest - ok, maybe larger than modest - following consisting of incredibly loyal fans which I will never stop being grateful for. They are all so respectable of me, my privacy and my boundaries. They know the main rules: no shit-talking in the chat or in any of my comment sections, no bashing other YouTubers in my comments/chat, and most definitely not asking for a face reveal. Fun fact: I didn’t even set up that last rule, they all just collectively know not to ask for it. 

I’ve been keeping my brand pretty low-key to avoid garnering some unwanted attention - some of which I’ve already experienced on certain social media platforms following the full body pictures I posted on there - face not visible of course. I tend to also have my webcam on, facing towards my hands working away on the keyboard sometimes when I stream. I don’t know why people obsess over faceless content creators’ hands, but I appreciate the enthusiasm - it also drives me to do a manicure every now and then which ain’t so bad, self-care and all that you know.

Now, back to the subject of my ridiculous nervousness.

You see, it has layers.

I’m nervous of ‘preforming’ underwhelmingly and I’m nervous of what my own fans will think of the person I will become during this stream. They know me as a super chill and laid-back person, which I am by the way, but they might think I’m putting on a show if I exhibit any nervous gestures/vocabulary. I highly doubt they would, but the possibility is not letting my mind rest. And now that it’s about ten minutes till the stream starts, I’m getting doing my best to calm my nerves.

They are all just people. You know they are super chill too. Just be yourself, that’s why they invited you, because you are yourself on all your streams. They liked you for your personality, humor, maybe even your gaming skills. So chill the hell out and be yourself, damn it!

Easier thought than put into action that’s for sure.

I start my stream five minutes early just so I can vibe with my viewers for a little while before I have to meet the gang. My fans always have a way of injecting me with confidence, they remind me of where I was when I started and how far I’ve come. How much I achieved when I thought I’d be nothing and no one, someone the algorithm would simply overlook. But then they entered my life and I entered theirs and it all became much better than I ever thought it would get to be. I rarely tell myself ‘good job’ for the milestones I’ve reached or the hard work I’ve put into my content, but that’s probably cause I orient myself based on that quote from the movie Whiplash: ‘There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job’ - simply put, I’m never satisfied with what I do and I always strive to do better. My fans, however, make sure I don’t go overboard with it - always serving as a reminder that I’ve done plenty for myself and others. And that’s what makes an amazing fandom, one I consider family.

Whoa, when did those five minutes fly by?!

Ah shit, here we go. Deep breaths, Y/N you got this.

“Hello!“ I say as I enter the Discord call, subconsciously biting my lower lip, grateful the camera isn’t capturing it. However, I make a mental note to keep my hands steady cause that’s the one part of me people can actually see and the last thing I want is for them to see how much my fingers are trembling.

“Oh hi, Y/N!“ Toast is the first one to greet me, “Welcome to the stream! Thank you so much for accepting our invitation.“

“Thank you for having me and inviting me, Toast. This is a huge deal for me. You guys are basically YouTube legends, this is unreal to me.“ I reply, cringing immediately afterwards because of my fangirl rambling. Great way to make first impressions, Y/N. Bravo.

To be fair, they already have an impression of you. Quit stressing.

Aright, you’ve got a point, me.

“Oh please, we owe all that to our fans. We’re really nothing special. All streamers are almost completely alike, we all owe where we are to the people who helped us make it there - our fans. We’re no legends.“ Toast says, bringing a small smile to my face as well as a light pink blush to my cheeks, “And from what I’ve seen, you yourself have quite the following. And your fans seem to adore you.“

“And I absolutely adore them.“ I chuckle, “They mean the world to me. They are the reason I’m here today.”

“Then we have to give them a special thank you, don’t you think?“ The teasing, familiar giggle, widens my smile - it’s Rae, “Nice to meet you, Y/N! I’m Rae, and, no cap, I’m quite a fan of your content. No joke, I binged your entire series of Resident Evil 7 as soon as I found your channel when Toast said he’d invite you.“

This rattles me a bit. I can hardly believe it - am I really receiving a compliment from an A-list name in the streaming world? My fans must be hella proud of me right now. A quick glance at my chat confirms that they indeed are. That in and of itself fills me with joy and newfound confidence.

“Oh Gosh, thank you so much Rae! That means the world to me. You’re all so sweet.“ I reply, lifting my ice cold hands to cool down my burning cheeks, my lips spread into a grin, my stomach filled with butterflies.

“Oh please, we have some real savages around here.“ A male voice, seemingly Charlie’s scoffs, “Don’t overlook us please.“

“Wait, we do?“ A deep voice, one I immediately know the owner of speaks up, “Who? How come I don’t know about that?“

I can’t help bust snort, “Nice to meet you, Corpse. Sarcasm central, I see.”

He laughs, “Just returning it to where it’s due. Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Sick Outlast series, by the way.“

Ok, wait, I have two A-list streamers complimenting my content. Ok, I’m bound to crack open a few beers to celebrate later cause OH MY GOD.

“Thanks! I’m a horror junkie so I’d be lying if I said I haven’t binge watched all your story-times. Personal favorites are the deep web ones, they fascinate me.“

“Oh, you’re one of my kind even more than I expected, huh?“ He replies, the tone of his voice changing, raising a bit due to what I can only describe as excitement and enthusiasm. “I’ve had people tell me it’s twisted, but I really like seeing the lengths to which the fucked up human mind can go to. Like, the shit I’ve read is insane! Some stories I didn’t narrate cause I would’ve probably had my video taken down, it was that messed up.“

My eyes widen, sharing the same excitement at the thought of digging deeper into this phenomenon, “Careful, Corpse, you’re walking a dangerous line of tempting me to deep-dive on Reddit in search of those exact stories.”

“No need.“ Corpse says, his tone now taking up a bit of a cocky note, “I still got them all saved, I can send them to you no problem.“

“Please do! I seriously gotta read them now. If I can’t sleep afterwards, I’m blaming you, Corpse. Just FYI.“ I say, giggling slightly, finding myself all but completely comfortable now. I wonder where all that anxiety went? 

“Blame fully taken. Given that I’m not much of a sleeper, I’ll keep you company whenever you think there’s a killer hiding in your closet or fear a red room pop-up will appear on your computer screen.“ He replies, chuckling.

“Um, that’s oddly specific.“ Charlie comments, “Been there yourself, buddy?”

“Perhaps.“ Corpse wheezes, getting a laugh out of me too, “I will neither confirm nor deny.“

“You know what, I’ll just private message you my number so if you see it call you at some ungodly hour, you don’t freak the fuck out. Sounds good?“ I ask, already prepping to type it out and send it to him. 

“Perfect. Wait...“ he pauses for a second, sounding puzzled for a second, “You don’t have mine.“

“Oh, do I not?“ I reply with a sinister tone - thought to answer the question, I of course don’t have his number.

“Oh, do you?“ He sasses me right back. “If so then you don’t need me to send it to you. Cool.“

Ah, shit

“Wait, no! I-I need to confirm it’s the correct one!“

Damn, never did I think I’d be complimented by some of the most important streamers on this platform, but to get a number of theirs too? That’s a whole another level that will take me time to process. But I’ll do that another time, right now, I have to kick these people’s butts in Among Us and later I have some deep web stories to read.

Turns out, all it takes to get comfortable in a new surrounding is someone of your kind. And Corpse is definitely one of my kind.

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[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 4

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language, nudity (but, like, for art), and violence Warnings: Unhealthy dynamics, including violence between the shipped pair, leaning heavily into the "enemies" part of "enemies to friends to lovers" Summary: Local vampire discusses art, depictions of certain anatomy, and enjoys the company of her feral soulmate for 4.5 minutes. Then it goes to shit (as things tend to do). 0-60 Real goddamn quick. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly

4: Portraits For Ghosts

“Am I really supposed to just… stay here? Did she honestly think that I, of all people, would behave? The universe gave me two good hands, and by God, I intend to make that someone else’s problem,” you mutter to yourself as you get dressed. It’s not that you necessarily had anything in mind, rather that you hated the idea of waiting around for who knows how long for Cassandra to return. Especially considering what she had done prior to leaving. Sure, you had laughed, but that hadn’t meant much in the end. At this point, you hadn’t even been out of the dungeon for a full day yet, and the memories of what happened there were fresh in your mind. Nightmares, too, even if you had pushed them aside to deal with Cassandra’s. Why did I bother? You wonder, frowning. There was hardly any point to comforting a monster, no matter the way they trembled.

Or at least that’s the lie you sold yourself.

Soon enough, a knock at the door brings you out of your head. Daphne, maybe, you think, remembering the maiden from yesterday. When you open the door, however, you’re met with an unfamiliar woman. She’s a few years your senior, at the very least, and appears surprised to see you. In her hands is a very enticing tray of food.

“Lady Cassandra wanted me to bring this to you. I am… I am glad to see you are feeling better already,” she says, voice shaking. What was with these maidens and assuming you were anything like your soulmate? Though that last part did catch your interest. Something told you that she wasn’t at all referring to your time in the dungeon. If you had learned anything from Daphne, it was that the best way to get information was to be indirect. So you graciously accepted the food, before speaking, dodging your way around your ignorance.

“Yes, it’s amazing what a bit of meditating can do for the soul- and body, that is,” you start, watching closely for any veiled reactions. Even within the first few words you can tell that this stranger wasn’t expecting you to be pleasant. “Out of curiosity, what did my Lady say about my condition? There are, uh, a few details that I hope she did not share. I’m sure you understand.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, the maiden is nodding, appearing eager to satisfy you. Maybe a hint of fear can be useful, after all.

“No worries, Lady Cassandra did well to respect your privacy, and we would not dare question her further. She simply explained, to her family, that you were dealing with a migraine. I only heard this because I was helping serve breakfast,” she explained, smiling softly. You’re quick to nod, mimicking her expression for maximum empathy. “Do you require anything else? I am here to serve, you must only ask.” Ah, perfect. Would she have offered this even if you hadn’t attempted to be charming? Probably, but your politeness certainly didn't hurt.

“Well, there is one thing… as long as it’s no trouble.”

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

It had been a risk, asking the servant to take you to a room you weren’t sure existed, but one that had paid off brilliantly. Even if said room was nothing like you had anticipated. Who would have thought that Cassandra, you think, would be an artist? What’s far less surprising is the fact that the studio (or ‘study’, as you had called it) is a disorganized disaster. Discarded papers lie scattered around an overflowing trash can, a cabinet with an attached tool rack is missing pieces, and in one corner there are literally random shards of broken glass lying about. What is this, performance art? Part of you feels tempted to clean up the mess, if only to occupy your time. Instead, you decide to examine some of the pieces within the room. Maybe somehow they’d tell you something noteworthy about your soulmate.

First, you move to your left, where a workbench houses strange sculptures. For the most part they’re abstract, jagged edges contrasting with gentle curves, but there is one you think you understand. It’s very clearly a bust… of someone’s ‘bust’. Guess that solves the age old question of ‘boobs or ass’, you think, stifling a giggle. Moving on, you shift your attention to the exposed section of the cabinet. One row is dedicated to small vials, each labeled with a concerning ‘blood’, despite the fact that it’s clearly not refrigerated. Still, you have heard of artists painting with blood before, but you seem to recall them mixing it with something else. Perhaps Cassandra had done the same? Though you did wonder if she had any difficulty resisting the urge to drink the blood, at least prior to mixing it.

Shrugging, you continue to the other side of the studio, squatting to get a closer look at the broken glass. As expected, there’s no discernable pattern or purpose. Huh, you think, wonder why she doesn’t clean up. Maybe she’s waiting for a servant to do it? Guessing her reasoning was rather difficult, especially considering your lack of context, such as how long the mess had been here. Deciding that this was a pointless distraction, you move on to the only other thing of note in the room: An easel, in the center, with a canvas nearly as tall as yourself. So far, there’s little on it other than pencil lines, a sketch marking where to paint certain details. Only the (start of) the background has been colored. Understandably, it’s hard to make out what exactly the finished project would end up representing. Based on what you know of Cassandra and her family, however, you infer that this- with four figures, one larger than the others, protective- is a painting of the castle residents.

“Family means something to you, hmm?... I hope that mine does not miss me much, for I will never see them again,” you say to yourself, instinctively reaching out towards the art. Before you can touch it, or think better of it, the door to the studio is flying open. In storms Cassandra, fists clenched at her sides. As soon as she sees you, she’s rushing forward, pulling you away from the easel. “Hello, darling. Glad to see me feeling better, yes?” You teased, smiling wide at her. Feeling a bit emboldened by your earlier success, you go a step further, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I swear to fuck, if you touched any of my stuff-” Cassandra starts to say, intentionally ignoring the kiss, even though her cheeks get flush at the contact.

“Nope, not a single thing. Not even the broken glass. Nice touch, by the way, makes the whole space feel a helluva lot cozier,” you interject. For a few moments she holds you by your shirt collar, staring you in the eyes as if determining whether or not to believe you. Somehow, some way, she declares you innocent, releasing you with an irritated sigh. After pretending to dust yourself off, you return your attention to the central canvas. “Do you do a lot of art of your family? I passed by several pieces on my way here, though they were certainly in a different style.” Another pause, with Cassandra waiting for you to spring a verbal trap.

“Some of those are mother’s work,” she answers, tentatively, eying you closely. When you merely nod in reply, expecting her to elaborate, she starts to relax, little by little. “I doubt you passed any of mine. Mother tends to keep those closer to her quarters, or near the main entrance.” Interesting, you think, why hasn’t she addressed my original question?

“It sounds like she’s very proud of you,” you muse, still facing away from your soulmate. There’s a slight shakiness to your voice, as your mind starts to dwell on memories of your own family. Perhaps noticing this, Cassandra takes a few steps closer, one hand hovering over your shoulder, not quite sure if you needed (or perhaps deserved) any comfort. In this moment, you feel far more vulnerable than you had the day before. Taking a deep breath, you try to center yourself, before perfectly ruining whatever trust you had just established with Cassandra. “Something tells me she doesn’t know about the titty sculpture though, right? Can’t quite imagine that one being displayed where everyone can see it.”

To your immense surprise, Cassandra gives you a blank stare.

“You… you really don’t know anything about my mother, do you?” She says, after several awkward seconds. It feels strange to think that she had been furious, merely a handful of minutes ago. “If you actually behave for a while, I can show you some of her favorite pieces around the castle. Then maybe you’ll understand.” Intrigued, you debate how exactly to respond. On one hand, you did want to see the art, but on the other hand… misbehaving was your goal of the day.

“Sounds like a nice date to me. Why not start the tour right now?” You suggest, hoping to meet your ‘politeness quota’ earlier rather than later. Still, it is in your very nature to be chaotic, and you find yourself giving Cassandra an affectionate shoulder touch. It’s not at all genuine, but the two of you blush nonetheless. How could you not, when your blood was bound together, hearts made to race in sync?

“Don’t get friendly with me,” Cassandra stammers, unadjusted to the way her pulse pounded. “This isn’t a date. We’re just- it doesn’t matter, actually. As long as it means getting you out of my studio, I don’t care.” With that said, she takes your hand in her own, pulling you towards the exit. If she has any feelings about the soft touch, she hides them well… unlike yourself. Cheeks flushed, you’re half tempted to yank yourself out of her grip, hating the way your heart skips a few beats. Would I still feel this way if I didn’t know we were soulmates? You wonder, biting your lower lip to prevent any unwanted comments from slipping out. Soon enough you’d have art aplenty to distract yourself with. Hopefully.

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

“My God, you were not kidding. I don’t- I can’t even think of anything clever to say,” you chime, staring dumbfounded at the several statuettes of naked women. They seemed to fulfill some other purpose, one you couldn’t parse at the moment, but you could hardly think about the details right now. “I mean, good for your mother, for sticking to a theme, I suppose,” you continue, tripping over your own tongue, uncharacteristically quiet. Clearly amused by your flustered display, Cassandra lets out a hearty laugh.

“Good to know some things can shut you up. I’ll have to keep this in mind for next time you bother me,” she teases, light-heartedly. Her words only fluster you more, though they quickly give you room to counter, much to your joy.

“Is that so? Planning on carrying around a busty bust for the rest of your life, or thinking of going the more au naturel route?” You asked, briefly sticking your tongue out at Cassandra. It takes her a moment to understand what you’re getting at, but as soon as she does she’s smacking your arm with an offended huff. Despite her irritation, the blow is relatively soft, and you swear you can see her fighting to hide a smile. “Starting to go soft on me, are you? I hardly even felt that one.”

“So you’d prefer I hit you harder? And to think you called me kinky,” Cassandra fires back, without a hint of hesitation. Now both of you are laughing, softly, like old friends sharing fond memories. It’s… weirdly nice. A warmth fills your chest, even as you try to remind yourself that you shouldn’t be happy right now. Damn it, you think, suddenly frowning, hands clenching. We shouldn’t be having fun banter, back and forth like a real couple. Not when I’ve still got wounds from her hands on my skin. Instinctively you reach up to your face, thumb running over the marks Cassandra’s nails had left behind. The touch stings, bad, no matter how gentle you try to be. Noticing your shift in expression, your soulmate inches closer. “If your wounds are bothering you, I can have one of the servants get more ointment or whatever it is we have around. I don’t want you to-... There’s no reason for you to suffer more than you need to, besides, I don’t want you complaining all day.” Of course she couldn’t bring herself to imply that she cared. Of course. It wasn’t like the two of you were actually capable of being soft for each other, obviously. All of your confusion melts down, boiled by the warmth in your chest, turning to a familiar, albeit painful, rage.

“Right, right! Because you care so fucking much, yeah? What the fuck am I doing? Why am I-” you jab a finger towards her chest, accusatory- “talking to you? Why am I pretending you're not the one who did this to me? You’re the fucking reason my face hurts, my shoulder hurts, my brain-... I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened down there. I can’t get those goddamn images out of my head, every time I close my eyes, every time I look at you. I…” You trail off, chest heaving a little, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Cassandra’s standing tall, unflinching, but there’s a noticeable regret in her expression.

“What. Are. You… going to do about it?” She asks, through clenched teeth, fighting back the full force of her emotions. You can’t tell what exactly she’s feeling, but you know that you want her to show you. Every part of you is itching for a fist fight, regardless of how stupid you know the idea is.

“Depends, dickwad, on whether or not these statuettes are properly secured,” you snap, already moving, fully abandoning all impulse control. By the time your hand grips the first sculpture, Cassandra has put you in a headlock, forcefully tugging you backwards. Panic sets in, making you try to jam your elbows into her stomach. Before long both of you are tumbling to the floor, bodies already aching, limbs flailing wildly in an attempt to hit a target, any target. In the end the air is knocked from your lungs as your head smacks against the ground. “Shit, shit, shit,” you grumble, coughing, finally processing just how much of a dumbass you were. It’s clear that at least one of the previous day’s wounds has reopened, and you feel something wet and sticky on your shirt.

“Finished, asshole?” Cassandra wheezes, sounding dazed, roughly pulling you up by your shirt collar. You nod, refusing to meet her gaze. Then she’s sighing in relief, letting you lean on her for support, holding you surprisingly close, considering the circumstances. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Again…”

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Go Go Karasuno: An Old Rival (Pt 2 )

THIS FIC IS 18+

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 7,000+

A few days had passed since the practice match. You hated to admit it, but you thought about Keishin often. 

He looked good.

Really REALLY good.

Like better than high school good.  He always looked nice but it was overshadowed by his complete desire to be an utter ass.

You sighed as you finished up a few emails to send off before you took your grandma to the hospital to visit your grandfather.

He was set to be discharged in a few days and then you would start the process of moving them to the elderly community. You had taken your grandmother to visit him daily as she would often have make him meals. He hated the hospital food. He said the flavor was lacking.

You had to laugh. The man had only ever eaten your grandmother's cooking since they married at a young age. He often complained or refused to eat any other food because it was never was good as his wife’s cooking. 

You had to agree. Your grandma was an amazing cook.

You arrive at the hospital with your grandma in toe. She says her hellos to the staff as they all reciprocate the greetings. Your grandma was a complete sweetheart. She was loved and adored by everyone. She always helped when and where she could, volunteering wherever she was needed. You're actually surprised your grandfather managed to charm his way in to her life.

Your grandfather was a rowdy old man. Literally the opposite of your grandmother. He could be bitter and always liked a good argument. He was never outright mean to people, just very outspoken and upfront. He was a lot to handle.

You exit the elevator carrying the box of food your grandma had prepared. She told you she was preparing a meal for your grandfather's roommate as well. She said the man was just as insatiable as your grandfather. You imagined they were quite the duo.

As you round the corner you start the head arguing. You eyes widen as you realize it's coming from your grandfather's room. 

 Your grandma just smiles as she shakes her head knocking lightly at the door.

"Yeah yeah" a voice shouts. 

 You both enter as you begin to observe the sight before you eyes.

Your grandfather and his roommate are watching volleyball on the small TV in their hospital room. Shouting at the apparent bad plays.

"Anyone could have hit that set with their eyes closed" your grandfather shouted "what is that spiker doing?"

"He's just a weakling like all the others" the other man shouted "that wouldn't be happening under my coaching."

You roll your eyes and smile. Man these two were made for each other.

Your grandma slowly starts to unpack and plate the food she made for both the men. They continue to watch the game as your grandma hands them the food.

"Dont worry dear I packed enough for everyone" she smiled as you observed all the food. The box was heavy that you carried in but you didn't think there was an entire week's worth of food there.

"By everyone did you mean the entire hospital gran" you giggle as she laughs.

"Oh Y/N" your grandfather says as he looks up from his meal for a second "this is my roommate. You might know his grandson. I think he went to school with him."

The other man grumbled "I apologize if you do know him, the weakling."

You smile as you chuckle "Well sir its nice to meet you, I'm Y/N"

The older man turns to you smiling "oh I know who you are sweetheart, I'm Ikkei Ukai"

WHAT DID HE SAY?

You were about to speak when a knock sounded.

"Yeah yeah, what is this grand central in Tokyo?" your grandfather huffed as the door opened.

"Just came to check on my fav-" Keishin spoke as he entered, shutting the door and turning around.

His eyes were met with yours. He gulped as the two older men and older lady looked at you both.

"Y/N, I didn't know you would be here" Keishin says as he lifts his head to the back of his head.

"I told you last week my roommate had a granddaughter your age" Ikkei spoke sharped tongue.

"Well you didn't mention here name!" Keishin glared at his grandfather.

“You didn’t ask” Ikkei huffed as he turned his attention back to the game as Keishin placed his hand over his face.

You giggle at the circumstances. 

This all had to be a joke right? No way this was coincidence!

"Ah Keishin it's so good to see you again" your grandmother says breaking the awkward silence "here have a plate"

"Oh you as well ma'am" he said bowing "thank you ma'am but I'll have to pass I’m just stopping by quick"

"Sit down you idiot the women made great food" your grandfather shouts at Keishin as you chuckle.

Your grandmother makes him a plate as he settles in by you at the spare table in the corner. Your grandmother sits beside your grandfather as he kisses her forehead. You smile as you watch them, all while Keishin watches you.

"Your grandfather and mine are one in the same" he says trying to break the silence.

"Ha ha yeah you can say that again" you say smiling as you eat.

"I honestly didn't know your grandfather was his roommate" he says.

"Well you probably wouldn't. They are my mothers parents so we don't share the same last name" you say looking down at your plate.

"You know, it was really great to see you play again Y/N" Keishin smiles at you.

You look up smiling back "Thank you. It was a lot of fun. You really have some great kids."

"Kageyama and Hinata couldn't stop talking about your sets. Kageyama said they were almost perfect" he said taking another bite

"Well I wouldn't say perfect. They can always use improvement" you say pushing your food around the plate.

"Give yourself more credit Y/N. You really are a great setter. I always thought so" Keishin says as he stares at you.

You laugh ironically "is that why you were always such an ass to me then?"

Keishin sighs "yeah I was an ass but it wasn't because you weren't good. I was stupid high school kid"

You sighed as you look to his smiling "I guess we've both changed a lot"

Keishin smiled softly at you as you take both plates and disguarded them in the bin.

"I'm going to step outside for a minute" you speak, kissing your grandma on the forehead.

"I'll come with you" Kishin says as you begin to walk outside

The silence is awkward. Neither of you know what to say to each other. It's like your years of high school rivalry has been reduced to this weird state of unknown.

"Look Y/N" keishin starts.

"Keishin" you interject "we both changed. It's ok. I'm not mad at you anymore."

That wasn't completely factual nor completely a lie.

You didn't hate Keishin.  In fact, thinking about it, you never really did. You admired the man but he annoyed you to no end. He was always better than you and you were jealous.

Keishin threw his cigarette as he walked towards you "Y/N I want to apologize."

You look at him with narrowed eyes "for what?"

"Well one for being a complete jerk back in high school" he proceeds.

"Jerk is an understatement but continue" you say smiling.

He laughs awkwardly "Listen Y/N can I at least make it up to you?"

You fold your arms "ok and how Keishin? It's not like we can go back in time and you can not mess up my serves" you spit as he looks towards the ground.

"Y/N please" Keishin says "my grandfather was right, I was a weakling back then. I was jealous of you. You had such talent and well, I enjoyed getting a rile from you. I know it was immature but it was the only way you'd talk to me."

“Wait what” you think as you try to process what he was saying

"I always admired you Y/N. You were a great captain and a fantastic setter. You worked so well all the players on your team. I honestly was a bit jealous" he continues as you state at him confused.

Keishin was jealous? Of you?

You say the only thing you can properly formulate "Well Keishin you sure had a hell of a way of showing it! You pissed me off, annoyed me to no end and now you tell me you were jealous?"

Keishin stares at your outburst.

"Keishin I apologize for yelling but it just seems unreal to me. I spent all of high school trying be as good as you and now your telling me you looked up to me? It just seems unreal" you say as you sit on the bench.

"Y/N" Keishin sits down in the other side of the bench "I know I was a complete jerk. I honestly didn't know it bothered you so much. I was a punk ass kid who was just trying to be someone. But I now realize I hurt someone who really meant a lot of me."

You look up from your hands to see Keishin with a soft smile on his face.

"Well this is awkward" you say as you stand up. You were never great with upfront feelings and awkward silences.

"Y/N please" Keishin says as you start to walk back to the room "Please just let me make it up to you. Let's have dinner. I promise. Just hear me out"

You sigh knowing the conversation was unavoidable. It wasn't that you didn't want to have dinner with Keishin, it's just that you still reeled from your past.

Maybe you were being petty and it seemed like Keishin had changed but were you really ready to admit that? Were you really ready to move on from a grudge you held for almost 10 years?

"Where" you sigh in defeat.

"Huh?" Keishin looks to you with question.

"Where and when" you look back at him with a less than eager face.

"How about Friday night? My families store?" Keishin shouts a little too enthusiastic.

You chuckle at his response "ok but I swear of you start shit I'm going to pelt a volleyball right at your forehead"

He laughs "there's the Y/N I remember"

You push him playfully as you both walk back into the hospital heading to your grandfather's room.

You enter the floor as you both hear loud shouting. You look at each other and take off running towards your grandfather's room. You bust open the door with Keishin on your heals as you see your grandfather on the floor and your grandmother holding her mouth.

"I'm fine I'm fine just got a bit worked up" he says.

Keishin moves to help your grandfather as you console your grandmother.

"Grandpa really? Getting worked up over volleyball?" You spit at him.

He glares at you "you're one to talk Y/N!"

Keishin’s eyes widen as you glare holes on your grandfather's head. He chuckles at your response.

"Oh Y/N it's about time you forgive the boy, it's been almost 10 years" your grandfather says

"Dont forgive him so easily Y/N" Ikkei interjects "make him work for it"

Keishin glares at his grandfather as he chuckles with your grandfather and they continue watching the game.

You and Keishin both sigh as you smile softly towards one another. 

You're night out with Keishin approaches faster than you hoped. Honestly you were really indifferent about the whole situation. You had to admit, Keishin had probably changed since high school. I mean the Keishin you knew would never coach a high school volleyball team.

Right?

[faunusrights]

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 23

IN THIS EPISODE OF ??? I LITERALLY HAVEN'T READ IT YET SO UH WHATEVER:

WHAT FUCKING YEAR IS IT WHERE AM I

no but really HELLO GUESS WHAT UPDATED offal hunt updated AND SO I CAN COMPELLED TO LIVEBLOG... i honestly don't remember much of shit from chapter 22 except i called cinder a wet grape like twice BUT WHO CARES. WE CAN FIGURE IT OUT AS WE GO. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE--

“Get up.” Glynda got up.

offal hunt has always such a masterful grasp on narration from a POV character... there's such simplicity to glynda's more staccato thought patterns that makes her view so unmistakeably Hers, and the fact it can vary between being Hardcore and more subtle is *mwah*. i love this huntress and her brain that is just, like, fucked,

Like the needle of a compass, she sought her out.

go-go gadget gaydar

“Because the Fang is hunting you.” “You too, if you’re with me.” “I’m with you.”

guys come on am i even 200 words in yet??? you cannot start with these feelies right out of the gate ive JUST woken up (i havent but still)

In the low timbre of a secret, Cinder said, “I know.” And looking away this time: “I know. Thank you.”

i love cinder in the exact same moment in the exact same breath that i would like to commit unimaginable acts of violence against her for being just. like That. Dumbass Central Station. i just wanna take a nutcracker to her and just *crunch noise* open her up like a walnut u know? u know,

“Please. I don’t understand what’s going on. I want to help you, but I don’t know what we’re doing. What happened to you? What’s happening to us?”

me, who knows but, like, also doesn't know: IF YOU FIND OUT I WOULD LIKE TO BE THE FIRST TO KNOW ACTUALLY,

If Cinder needed protection, she would protect her.

*makes a bunch of gestures at kc and diesel meaningfully but also threateningly* god i have so many things to say to you glynda but instead i just *heavy exhale*

The answer came shuddering out of her, as though it changed everything: “Yes. I promise.” And then: “You can trust me, Glynda.”

*HEAVY EXHALE x2*

changed everything huh............................................................................................................ hm. i'm certainly curious to know what yr definition of 'everything' is, cinder, because knowing you it's a very loose term,

The door slammed open; Glynda seized it with her Semblance and threw it back through the frame, cracking it against the bodies there.

"Room service-- AW FUCK"

She could trust Cinder. Cinder would explain everything.

bear with i'm just looking for a reaction image here... ah yes! here:

Glynda said, “I’m going to secure your arm. It will keep it safer.” She withdrew her belt and stepped in front of Cinder to fasten it like a sling around her.

glynda's pants drop around her ankles. she's wearing booty shorts that say 'juicy' across her butt. the red attracts the attention of every white fang member in a 20 kilometre radius. they die instantly,

Cinder visibly bristled. In her mind, Glynda pictured spiked Grimm pelt, hair raised on end, jaggedly furious.

i was gonna go find an image of a kitty all fluffed up as an example but then i remembered the content-aware scaling cats and i'm like what if she looked more like this

which, compared to glynda, is probably accurate.

“There you are.” Acknowledgement rankled at Glynda. Sienna Khan was talking to her even if she only had eyes for Cinder. “Cinder’s dog. If she brought you with her this time, she must have realized how serious I am.”

god yes i know sienna khan is a huge bitch in this and yet........................................ oghuguohohughoh i want to press every word she says directly into my EYES... offal hunt more like almost 100k of hot women,

Glynda caught Cinder by the back of the coat as she barrelled past. She turned to spit at her, already half ablaze, but Glynda held her close to her side. Cinder’s features twisted with such a fury that Glynda had never seen before; true, genuine bloodlust radiated from her, and it seemed at once that they were all in danger—even Glynda, just for standing between Cinder and her prey.

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD loving how cinder is just feral... sienna out here calling glynda cinder's dog whilst blatantly ignoring the fucking cat carrier behind her that's rocking around like its hosting a rave party,

Instead, Glynda grabbed Cinder’s wrist, hot like glowing metal, and stood in front of her to block her view of Sienna. With both of their backs to their enemies, they could only see each other.

i have MISSED THESE TWO SO MUCH ACTUALLY................ am sobbing in da club babes

She didn’t need protecting. Glynda would do it all the same.

glynda my good and tender bitch u do too much all the time. u r carrying this team. literally carrying it how much does cinder weigh to u? like a pebble? TWO pebbles???

“If we jump, they’ll have to take the elevator. It’ll take much longer. We’ll have time to find an airship.”

okay but imagine if she makes this jump and we cut back to adam and sienna listening to elevator music on the way up. just sort of awkwardly not looking at each other. maybe some other random person is there too. just chilling for a few minutes. it would be an important story beat, i think,

Her hand was perfect and warm in Glynda’s, and she squeezed it. She didn’t know why.

its the lesbsisianmism. lesbsianam. lesbaiaigiam,

Around them, a crowd had formed even in the raging storm. They held batons and knuckle-knives and wickedly edged blades. They held their grim purpose, no masks to disguise their looks of contempt.

they were waiting for the elevator this whole time

The tell-tale prickle crawling up her neck was unbearable—unbearable, and familiar. It ached like an old wound; her soul trembled to know it, weeping like an open sore, and her head swiveled, trying to spot even the slightest ripple in the clouds.

🤔👀

(hey did you know the emoji keyboard doesn't work on win11. sick. amazing.)

She was choking on Grimm, a hot and ashy feeling like brimstone in her lungs. Every breath carried the acrid stench of it up; it tasted like fear, and death, and destiny. She was sweating even with the rain, a cold chill running through her. She knew this Grimm.

👀👀👀👀👀👀 but DO you,

The feeling raking up Glynda’s spine was unmistakable, though—that ancient, strange hunger belonged to no other Grimm she had seen. Speaking quietly to Cinder, Glynda assured, “I can feel it. It’s almost here.” And Cinder whispered: “That’s not him.”

OH BOY LET'S OPEN THIS DOOR

Her heart was jackhammering in her chest, her soul quivering at the proximity—everything in her being screamed to run away, to run until she couldn’t breathe—there!

i'll be the first to confess that i don't remember what we have or have not covered in this version of offal hunt so i will play it safe, as ever, and post only this: 👈😎👈

As she stared, petrified, the Grimm opened its maw. Rows and rows of teeth, each at least as long as her leg, glinted dully in the rain. A warm, golden light pooled at the back of the Grimm’s throat, as though the storm was breaking in front of their eyes—Glynda saw the impossible sun rising in the Grimm’s throat, burning, blinding, and Cinder suddenly yanked her away. The pull on her arm was strong enough to hurt, and she stumbled after Cinder as she pulled them both towards the edge of the island.

HERE WE GO BABEY HELL YEAH HELL YEAH WELCOME TO DA STAGE big chongus among us THE LOVE OF MY *inhales* LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFE

Molten fire rained down, through the platform—no, no, Glynda blinked, the platform was gone entirely. The platform came down around them as they fell, in a thousand broken pieces, and Glynda could see the unmistakable forms of other bodies twisting through the air—dead or alive, she couldn’t tell.

did sienna just straight up take the biggest L. if so: rip queen you were a milf to the end,

A furious roar from above pierced some ancient nerve in her, lancing through her very soul: the Manticore had only ever been an echo of this feeling, and for the first time in decades, Glynda’s response was not hunger. It was not the hunt that called her. This was fear incarnate.

AND NOW! WE! ARE! COOKING! WITH! GAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! hell YES

oh MAN what a return to this huh. what a TIME we have had. i cant say shit lest i say something i shouldnt (yet) but OHOHOHOHO this is about to get VERY sexy VERY fast (actual sexiness may vary according to taste). that said. how yall gonna get outta this one huh...

thanks u diesel and kc for this good food i owe u £20 and a big mac each sdfghjdsghj

[longitudinalwaveme]

Arkham Sessions: Captain Cold

These vignettes, and, more specifically, the characterization of Dr. Hugo Strange, are based on the wonderful Arkham Files YouTube videos produced by Mr. Rogues.

Here's his channel:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCyxNOHiNclZlVpeRhYV2QRQ

Since I am a huge Flash nerd, I decided to use this idea as a jumping-off point to explore how the Rogues would respond to therapy sessions. Again, all credit to the basic format goes to Mr. Rogues.

Not everything Dr. Strange says should be taken as truth; his bias against costumed vigilantes affects most of his interviews with the patients.

Hugo Strange: From the patient files of Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. Patient: Leonard Snart, also known as Captain Cold. The patient displays a number of antisocial tendencies, but no formal diagnosis has ever been given to him, and since he arrived at Arkham only a few days ago, I have not had the time to give him a complete psychological examination. Session One. Good day, Mr. Snart.  

Capt. Cold: Len. 

Hugo Strange: Pardon? 

Capt. Cold: Just call me Len, Doc. I ain’t the type to stand on formalities. 

Hugo Strange: Very well, then. (Pause) So, Leonard-

Capt. Cold: Not Leonard, Len. 

Hugo Strange: I take it you’re not especially fond of your given name? 

Capt. Cold: Believe me, Doc, if your name was ‘Leonard Snart’, you wouldn’t be fond of it, either. 

Hugo Strange: Fair enough. So, Len, what exactly influenced you to put on a parka and go running around robbing banks and jewelry stores with a freeze ray?

Capt. Cold: It ain’t a freeze ray, it’s a cold gun. 

Hugo Strange: Besides semantics, what is the difference? 

Capt. Cold: Mr. Freeze-you got him locked up somewhere in this loony bin, right?- has a freeze ray. It shoots ice. Me? I’ve got a cold gun. My gun negates thermal motion. Stops protons and electrons dead in their tracks. People too. Even the Flash slows to a crawl when I hit him with it. 

Hugo Strange: (Surprised; a bit skeptical) Do you mean to say that you have invented a weapon that can create temperatures of absolute zero? 

Capt. Cold: Yep. And I did it years before that lovesick freak got turned into a popsicle man. 

Hugo Strange: Your records indicate that you dropped out of high school at the age of fourteen, Len. How could you possibly have the requisite knowledge to create such a weapon? Are you even familiar with James Prescott Joule or J.J. Thomson? 

Capt. Cold: Who? 

Hugo Strange: J. J. Thomson is the man who discovered the electron. James Prescott Joule is the scientist who discovered the First Law of Thermodynamics. If what you’re saying is true, you managed to exceed the wildest dreams of either of these illustrious men, without even knowing of them or their theories. 

Capt. Cold: Huh. Guess I did. Well, how about that?

Hugo Strange: How could you possibly have managed this, Len? 

Capt. Cold: Just ‘cause I’m trailer trash don’t mean I’m stupid, Doc. 

Hugo Strange: Clearly not. So, how did you do it? 

Capt. Cold: Sorry, Doc. Trade secret. 

Hugo Strange: Len, we gave you a number of psychological and intelligence tests upon your admittance to Arkham Asylum, and-

Capt. Cold: (Cutting him off) About that-what’m I doin’ in this loony bin, anyhow? I ain’t crazy, and even if I were, I’m from Central City. That’s a thousand miles away from Gotham. 

Hugo Strange: A few weeks ago, Iron Heights Penitentiary’s southwestern wall was destroyed in a mysterious accident. As a result, it is currently incapable of holding supercriminals, metahuman or otherwise, and you and your cohorts had to be housed somewhere. Through a series of political and judicial decisions that I confess make as little sense to me as they probably do to you, all of you so-called “Rogues” were transferred to Arkham Asylum until such time as Iron Heights is properly rebuilt. 

Capt. Cold: I get havin’ to send us someplace else if Iron Heights is destroyed, but...I ain’t insane. Why not send me to Blackgate instead of the loony bin? 

Hugo Strange: Many people are of the opinion that anyone who puts on a silly costume in order to commit crimes is insane by definition, Len. 

Capt. Cold: That include you, Doc?

Hugo Strange: Whether or not you are insane in the legal sense of the term is not for me to decide, Len. That being said, I do believe that your decision to commit crimes in such a...theatrical...manner indicates some level of emotional disturbance. 

Capt. Cold: Hey, Doc, you’re the expert on this stuff, not me. 

Hugo Strange: In that case, why don’t we return to the subject of your astonishing invention? 

Capt. Cold: I’m stuck in the loony bin anyway. Might as well. 

Hugo Strange: Can you please refrain from describing this facility as a “loony bin”, Len? The term is pejorative, both for the staff who work here and the other patients who live here.

Capt. Cold: Pejorative? What’s that mean, Doc? 

Hugo Strange: It means that it is rude. Describing the mentally ill as “lunatics” is unkind and unscientific. 

Capt. Cold: Whatever you say, Doc. Whatever you say. 

Hugo Strange: (Coughs) As I was saying, when you arrived at the asylum, we gave you a number of psychological and intelligence tests. While your scores in the area of mathematics were unusually high, especially for someone who never finished high school, your literacy scores were abysmal. You are thirty-eight years old, but you read at the level of the average six-year-old. 

Capt. Cold: Well, we can’t all have your fancy education, Doc. What’s my reading ability got to do with my cold gun? 

Hugo Strange: I find it difficult to believe that a high school dropout-a high school dropout, moreover, who can barely read-would be able to invent a gun that can produce absolute zero on his own. 

Capt. Cold: Are you callin’ me a liar? 

Hugo Strange: Not necessarily, Len. What I am saying is that I do not believe that the Cold Gun was created in the way that you may believe that it was. 

Capt. Cold: Oh, so you ain’t callin’ me a liar-you’re callin’ me crazy. 

Hugo Strange: I did not say that either, Len. 

Capt. Cold: You didn’t have to, Doc. I may be a redneck high-school dropout, but I ain’t survived as long as I have by not knowin’ when people are bad-mouthin’ me. 

Hugo Strange: Len, I am not bad-mouthing you. I am trying to help you.

Capt. Cold: Sure you are.  

Hugo Strange: (Frustrated) Not everyone is looking to take advantage of you, Mr. Snart! 

Capt. Cold: Funny. Hasn’t been my experience, Doc. (Pause) Look. I ain’t mad, Doc. If I had a buck for every time somebody called me trailer trash or a dumb thug or a stupid hick, I wouldn’t need to rob no more banks. You ain’t said nothin’ I haven’t heard a million times before. But I want you to know this: I invented my cold gun, and I did it by myself. I. Ain’t. Stupid. 

Hugo Strange: (Looking to change the subject) Len, I never said that you were unintelligent. In fact, your criminal history makes it quite clear that you are an effective, pragmatic operative. An unintelligent man could never have organized the only successful costumed criminal combine in the nation. Every other group of costumed criminals has folded within a few months at most, usually due to interpersonal tensions, but you have somehow managed to keep your little group together for over a decade. What is it you call yourselves, again?

Capt. Cold: The Rogues. 

Hugo Strange: That’s right. The Rogues. Now tell me, Len, what exactly is the secret to your group’s...ah...success? 

Capt. Cold: (Amused) You plannin’ to start a costumed gang, Doc? 

Hugo Strange: Certainly not. I am simply curious. It isn’t often that I get the opportunity to interview criminals from outside of Gotham’s borders. 

Capt. Cold: It ain’t that complicated, Doc. The reason we’ve held together for so long is ‘cause we got an unspoken code. We watch one another’s backs to the end. Nobody gets left behind; everybody gets an equal share. 

Hugo Strange: (Surprised) Are you implying that you are...friends...with your Rogues? 

Capt. Cold: You think I’d trust people I hate to watch my back?

Hugo Strange: Admittedly, that wouldn’t make much sense...it’s just that I was under the impression that you were the leader of the group.

Capt. Cold: I am. 

Hugo Strange: Most gang bosses I know keep the majority of the profits from their crimes for themselves.Why don’t you? 

Capt. Cold: ‘Cause we’re a team. We do equal work; we get equal rewards. 

Hugo Strange: A surprisingly admirable sentiment for a common thief. 

Capt. Cold: (Proudly) There ain’t nothin’ common about me, Doc. 

Hugo Strange: (Sigh) That’s certainly true, Len. (Pause) On the subject of things that are not common, why the parka and the silly goggles? 

Capt. Cold: Practicality. Parka keeps me warm; goggles help focus my vision and keep me from bein’ blinded by the flare of my own cold gun. 

Hugo Strange: I see. (Pause) And why call yourself “Captain Cold”? After all, you aren’t really a Captain of anything. 

Capt. Cold: I’ll admit, it ain’t the most creative name in the world...but anything’s better than “Leonard Snart”. 

Hugo Strange: Why not just change your name, then? Why take up a ridiculous costumed alias?

Capt. Cold: Because I’m not just an ordinary thug. Leonard Snart is ordinary; boring…..but Captain Cold? Captain Cold is cool.

Hugo Strange: Was that a...pun?

Capt. Cold: What can I say? I admit they’re dumb, but old habits die hard. 

Hugo Strange: And the Flash had nothing to do with your decision to put on a costume and call yourself by a silly, alliterative name while committing crimes? 

Capt. Cold: The Flash? Why would he have anything to do with it? 

Hugo Strange: I was under the impression that the Flash was your arch-enemy. 

Capt. Cold: (Laughs) Arch-enemy? What is this, a Saturday morning TV show? 

Hugo Strange: The Central City papers make quite a big deal of your rivalry with the so-called “Scarlet Speedster”. 

Capt. Cold: Look, the Flash is basically a cop. Sure, he’s a cop with superpowers, and he’s good for sharpening our wits, but at the end of the day, he’s just an obstacle to our getting the score. 

Hugo Strange: Then you don’t view your battles with him as some epic confrontation between ideologies? 

Capt. Cold: Why would I do that? Ideologies don’t pay the grocery bills, Doc. 

Hugo Strange: And you haven’t dedicated your life to proving your superiority over him once and for all? 

Capt. Cold: No. I fight the Flash for the same reasons I fight the cops: I want to get rich, and he’s standing in my way. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.

Hugo Strange: So the Flash is nothing special to you?

Capt. Cold: I didn’t say that. Like I said, he’s good for sharpening the wits. I wouldn’t be half as successful as I am if he weren’t around to keep me and the guys on our toes, and yeah, it’d be neat to finally get the victory over him once and for all...but really, he ain’t so different from us. He’s just another guy workin’ a nine-to-five, tryin’ to provide for his family. I don’t like him-he’s a stuck-up, self-righteous prig sometimes-but he’s a good person. He’s not a superhero ‘cause he wants hero-worship. He actually wants to help people. He’s even helped me, and I make a career out of trying to freeze-dry him. You gotta respect a guy like that. 

Hugo Strange: You actually see the Flash as a man?

Capt. Cold: What else would I see him as? A Martian? ‘Cause I’ve seen Martians, and I can tell you, the Flash ain’t green enough to be one.

Hugo Strange: It’s not that. It’s just that I’ve spent so much time with the patients who view Bruce Wayne, formerly the Batman, as some sort of supernatural entity or as a grand opposite in a never-ending conflict between order and chaos that it’s rather...odd to listen to a costumed criminal who claims to view their local costumed vigilante simply as a person. 

Capt. Cold: Man, you have got to get out more. 

Hugo Strange: (Coldly)  I don’t recall requesting life advice from you, Mr. Snart. 

Capt. Cold: Well, you should take it anyway. Ain’t often I give stuff away for free. 

Hugo Strange: (Annoyed) This session is not about me, Mr. Snart. It’s about you. 

Capt. Cold: What else do you wanna talk about? I’m not stupid, I’m not creepily obsessed with the Flash, I don’t butcher people for fun, and I don’t have any weird hang-ups about dead relatives or riddles or plants or dolls or jokes or the number two. I’m not a good guy, but I think I’m a pretty normal guy, all things considered. 

Hugo Strange: Mr. Snart, no one puts on a costume without some sort of psychological disturbance. Even if the Flash was not in some way responsible for your decision-something which I am not yet fully convinced of-no rational human being would do such a thing. I just need to find out what your disturbance is. (Pause) Perhaps it began in your childhood, Mr. Snart? 

Capt. Cold: (Icily) My childhood is none of your business. 

Hugo Strange: I am your psychologist, Mr. Snart. That makes it my business. (Pause) Let’s see. Your file says that you were born to Lawrence Snart, a forty-year-old police officer who was kicked off the force for public drunkenness and suspected corruption, and Shirley Snart, a fifteen-year-old high school dropout. You and your family lived in a dilapidated trailer park, and your father was a known alcoholic who drank away your family’s welfare money. Five years after you came along, your younger sister, Lisa, was born...and your mother ran away, never to be seen again. The neighbors called the police because of domestic disputes between her and your father no less than thirteen times in five years, which leads me to suspect that she was spurred to leave the family because of her husband’s abuse. You were left to raise your sister, essentially on your own, at five years old, and you were effectively the head of the household from that point on. You never had a childhood, Mr. Snart. 

Capt. Cold: Don’t you talk about my sister!

Hugo Strange: I take it that you’re close to her? Understandable, I suppose, given that you grew up with her in an abusive household. Your grandfather, who drove an ice cream truck, did his best to protect you and your sister from your father’s cruelty, but he was old and in poor health, and he died when you were only twelve years old. You never got over the loss, and your father’s abuse only got worse as you and your sister got older. When you turned 14, you dropped out of high school; you then worked a number of odd jobs to support yourself and your sister. However, shortly after you turned 18, you and your father got into a dreadful argument, one that ended with you running away from home and leaving your little sister alone with your father. After that, you eventually fell into a life of petty crime. 

Capt. Cold: I...I had no choice. If I hadn’t left, he would’ve killed me! 

Hugo Strange: I am not blaming you for choosing to run away, Mr. Snart. You were an abused child with very few options available to you. 

Capt. Cold: (Quietly) I could’ve taken her with me. 

Hugo Strange: And why didn’t you? 

Capt. Cold: ‘Cause I was an 18-year-old dropout. Nobody was gonna give me custody of my sister...and besides, I’d started hangin’ out with dangerous people. I...I didn’t want her to get hurt. 

Hugo Strange: In other words, she would have been in danger no matter what you had done. 

Capt. Cold: It don’t matter! I’m her big brother! I was supposed to protect her! 

Hugo Strange: (Coming to a realization) And because you weren’t able to protect her from your father as a boy, you’re trying to make up for it now by becoming this “Captain Cold”; a larger-than-life persona that can do all the things you weren’t able to do as a child. You’ve made yourself too powerful and dangerous for anyone to threaten, and you’ve made a surrogate family for yourself and your sister. That’s why the Rogues are so successful...it’s because they aren’t really a gang at all. They’re your family. Isn’t that right, Mr. Snart? 

Capt. Cold: (Sarcastically) An’ I suppose the fact that my grandpa drove an ice cream truck somehow subconsciously influenced my decision to become Captain Cold? 

Hugo Strange: (Aware of the sarcasm, but ignoring it)  That’s perhaps a bit of a stretch, but it isn’t impossible. 

Capt. Cold: I don’t believe this….

Hugo Strange: Don’t be afraid, Mr. Snart. Admitting you have a problem is difficult, but it’s also the first step on the road to recovery. 

[kimikokuro22]

Central Ballad SR [First Outfit] Translation

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.

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CARD STORY [Friendship, Lord and Retainer, and What Comes After]

Chapter 1

Arthur: A cold and clear morning air. It’s been a long time since I've felt this atmosphere.

Arthur: I really came back to Master Oz’s castle…

Arthur: Oh yes, i shall cook breakfast for everyone to show my hospitality.

Arthur: …hm? Is that…

Cain: If i remember it correctly, i should turn here to reach the hall…

Arthur: Ah, i haven’t touch Cain today. I’m sure he can’t see me right now.

Arthur: If that’s the case…

Cain: Hm? Is someone-

Arthur: Boo!

Cain: ?!!

Arthur: Ahaha, sorry for surprising you. Good morning Cain, did you sleep well?

Cain: Arthur! It's unusual for you to pull a prank on people. I was really surprised!

Arthur: True… i came back to this castle after a long time after all, so i’m feeling a bit merry.

Arthur: I never thought that i’ll be able to came back to this place ever again. But i… i’m really back huh…

Cain: …

*slap sfx*

Arthur: Woah! Why did you hit my back out of nowhere?

Cain: Haha, i’m just glad that Arthur is having fun.

Cain: By the way, did you usually do something this mischievous when you live here?

Arthur: Let’s see… i didn’t mean to pull a prank on anyone, but…

Arthur: When i think about it, i may have done things that bothered Master Oz.

Cain: I see. What did you do?

Arthur: For example, suddenly calling Master Oz from behind his back like before.

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Chapter 2

Cain: Hahaha, i see. I now understand how mischievous you are.

Arthur: Does my story sounds that mischievous…?

Cain: Oh, i remember. There’s something i wanted to ask. Will i reach the hall if i walk through this corridor?

Arthur: Ah, i’m really sorry. I caused you troubles in this unfamiliar place. Yes, you’ll find it if you went that way.

Cain: What a relief. This place is really wide huh, it’s hard to remember the floor plan.

Arthur: Beside the floor plan, it must be harder for you because of your eyes condition. Please ask for my help if you need anything.

Cain: I will. Thanks.

Cain: …But it sure feels complicated when your lord told you to rely on him.

Arthur: Complicated?

Cain: That’s right. As a knight, rather than relying on my lord, i prefer to have my lord rely on me.

Arthur: …Thank you, Cain. But you don’t need to feel worried.

Arthur: From now and always, i will always rely on you. Whether to you who is a knight, or as my close friend.

Cain: Rely on me… Does that mean you’ll rely on me more than to Oz?

Arthur: Eh, um that’s…

Cain: Ahaha sorry sorry. I’m kidding. When I witnessed how close you two were in this castle, i was feeling a little jealous.

Cain: Now, shall we go to the hall? …ah, is Oz awake?

Arthur: Master Oz is probably already present in the hall right now.

Cain: That’s great. I’m gonna brag about Arthur’s earlier prank.

*walking sfx*

Arthur: Eh?! Wait a moment, Cain! Please keep my previous action a secret from Master Oz…!

*running sfx*

.

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CARD EPISODE [Prince Mischief]

Akira: Boo!

Arthur: Is something wrong, Master Sage? Do you need my assistance?

Akira: I-i didn’t surprise him even a little.

Akira: When we went to Oz’s castle, i happened to see Arthur surprising Cain and imitate it just now.

Arthur: Eh, did you witness that scene, Master Sage? How embarrassing…

Akira: But it looks fun. Is Arthur good at pranking people?

Arthur: Not at all.

Arthur: When i just started to think who and what kind of prank should i do, someone already realized my intention even before i start doing it.

Akira: Well, you can probably guess what Arthur is thinking by looking at his face…

Arthur: Lord Snow and Lord White used to teach me a lot of mischief tricks in the past- …oh?

Arthur: Master Sage. There are cats gathering under that tree.

Akira: Eh?! Really..?!

Akira: Hm? I can’t find any…

Arthur: I got you! It’s my revenge for your earlier prank!

Akira: I see! I was completely fooled!

Arthur: Ahaha. Pranking people really is exciting.

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HOMESCREEN VOICE

"People's impression on wizard has improved. It's nice that its changing bit by bit"

[hedgiwithapen]

How about the Leverage Crew arriving in Central City in time for the that time Barry got accused of murdering DeVoe. Basically, Leverage Crew (Classic or Redeption is your choice) meddling in that plan. Because screw DeVoe. Can be in the same universe as The Central City job, or a brand new AU; your choice.

this one Long The courthouse was packed when a sleek black van pulled up to a loading zone. Nathan Ford turned from the passenger seat. “You all know the play?” “Mm, yup,” Parker said, clipping a badge to her blazer pocket. “The Boston skip.” “It’s not the Boston Skip,” Hardison snapped, fussing with his tie.. “You’re just grumpy because you have to play the lawyer again.” Eliot smirked. “Hey, you said only if it comes to a cross examine, I did my job, if you all do your jobs right and it doesn’t come to that,” Hardison’s voice pitched upwards. “If?” Sophie put on the emergency break. “If? Hardison, I’m hurt.” “Soph,” Nate sighed. “Let it go.” “For now. We’re having words later,” Sophie insisted. “Can we just get this over with?” Eliot asked, maneuvering to take the driver’s seat. “ you know I don’t like us splitting up like this.” “It’ll only be for a bit,” Parker said, squeezing his hand. “ We’ll be fine.” They left the van in twos, first Parker and hardison, briefcase and extraneous computer in hand, and a minute or two later Sophie and Nate followed-- and Nate with a plain folder tucked under his arm. Eliot drove in the direction of the police station, ready for the next phase of the plan. They hadn’t exactly called ahead, but that wasn’t going to be much of a problem. Cisco Ramon was the first to spot them. He goggled a bit. “What are you doing here?” he asked as Hardison approached the bench where Team Flash had congregated. Hardison smiled, knowing the prosecutor was watching. “I came to offer my services,” he said, sending a quick text with a thought. “ Where is Ms Horton?” “Here,” the short woman said, her eyes cutting between the two as Cisco checked his phone. “ Who are you? Cisco, who is--” Cisco looked up from the message--you didn’t see us coming?-- and relaxed slightly for the first time in weeks. “I’m part of Mr. Allen’s legal team,” Hardison smiled wide. “He’s ok, Cecile,” Cisco vouched. “ He and his, uh, coworkers have helped us in the past. With Z--wait, that was before you. Um.” “My firm helped get Henry Allen some money, after that unfortunate mess. And we’re here to see justice through again.” He hesitated. “ Or pick up where it leaves off,” he said under his breath. Cecile took in a sharp breath. “When did we hire you?” “Uh--” “Cecile, it’s really ok,” Caitlin joined the cluster. “They know about STAR. And apparently about the recent… developments.” “You think we don’t keep tabs on your crazy city? Now, Ms. Horton, as your co-lawyer, we need to discuss strategy. I’ve got some character witnesses I’d like to introduce, some crucial evidence that needs to be submitted, is there an office we might use?” He steered her away, nodding to Parker, deep in conversation with the prosecutor.

“You let that jerk stick around?” Iris jumped when she heard the voice in her ear. Turning she sighed with recognition. “ Lilli--Sophie?” “In the flesh.” She smiled. “I can’t stay long, but Eliot wanted me to ask.” Iris sighed. “If it’s Eliot asking, I guess you mean Harry. He’s been a lot better since Eliot kicked his ass, that’s for sure. And he has been helpful.” “I’m sure,” Sophie sounded anything but sure. “Listen, we’ve got this pretty well handled, but you and your friends may wish to be ready in case of reprisals. Have you upgraded security lately?” “Cisco’s worked on it,” Iris confirmed. “Good. Hardison would love to take a look, later. We’re probably going to be in the area, we’ve had word something’s fishy at that prison of yours.” When Iris opened her mouth Sophie shook her head. “Iron Heights. Point is, we’ll be around should you need anything.” “Thank you for the offer,” Iris said. She shook her head. “ These people are smart, Sophie. Dangerous.” “Not compared to my team,” Sophie smiled. “Save your worry. Look, see? Hardison’s in place, and Parker’s in the wings. I’ve got to go take care of my part. If you see your husband, let him know, will you?” “I-- sure,” Iris said, and she watched as Sophie stood and walked into a crowd. An entirely different person made her way past a bailiff and into the Juror’s box, leaning over to the man beside her and nodding in the direction of the door Barry Allen had just been escorted through. As Iris stood to take his hand across the gap between his seat and the benches, Sophie gave a little nod to the two of them. “It is strange,” the man said. “But I don’t think we’re meant to discuss the case until we’re in the back.” “Of course not,” Sophie said. “I was just thinking about it, is all. If it were a scene in a mystery novel, I’d call it too obvious.” “You do have a point,” the man agreed. “I’m actually a novelist myself.” “You don’t say,” Sophie smiled. “Classic red herring, am I right? And what a story. Two men in the same family accused of nearly identical murders…” She tapped her com, giving a quick signal. Nate was up. “Ah, a quick word?” Nate stepped away from the wall, flagging down Mrs. DeVoe and her companion. “No,” she snapped, putting on what Nate could see was a reasonably convincing mask of Grieving Widow. Convincing to a mark, maybe. But the Mako was right--you can’t con a conman. “Vultures, all of you.” “Oh, I’m not a reporter.” Nate said easily. He nodded to the tall man at Marlize’s Elbow. “Mr. DeVoe, I’m sure you’ll want to hear what I have to say.” He was pleased to see shock cross the face of Dominic Lanse. The man grabbed him by the arm, yanking him into an empty room. Mrs. DeVoe followed, locking it behind her. “Just so you are aware, there is video footage of you dragging me in here,” Nate said in his most helpful voice. “In case you decide to kill me here, probably not your smartest move.” he glanced around. “Private, though. Good.” He gave his signature infuriating grin. “Make this quick,” Clifford said in Dominic’s voice. “Court begins soon.” “Right, well, that’s going to be your problem.” Nate shrugged. “ Let’s skip the pleasantries. I know everything, about your plan at least. Your computer banks! Normal people couldn’t even find them, so you’ve got that going for you, though the security is lacking once you get past that, so B+. I am not Normal People. I have the best hacker in the multiverse, though, so,” he clicked his tongue in mock dismay, “like I said, my team and I --I’m sure you’re trying to think of who we are right now--know everything.” Marlize glanced at her silent watch, frowning. “Oh, no, no, I’m not a meta.” Nate shook his head. “But the thing is, I don’t have to be to destroy you.” “What--” “Again. I know everything, Thinker. Your basement prison, your hidden files, what you want with that satellite… you really shouldn’t have written everything down… twice even.” He fished a small book out of his pocket, and let them see the plain cover. Clifford’s eyes darkened. “That’s mine.” “Yeah, well, I also have the

multiverse’s greatest thief.” “Our home is under police protection and surveillance. There are officers--” “There right now, I’m aware.” Eliot Spencer, clutching a cup of coffee in one hand, flashed a badge at the pair of officers standing by a door. “Any trouble?” “Nope. She just left for the courthouse. Some work, huh? Just standing here.” “Hmm.“ Eliot agreed. “Though I guess if something did happen, the Flash would swoop in.” “Nine times out of ten,” the first officer agreed. “Or one of his buddies. “ “Maybe 8 times,” the second officer shrugged. “ You new?” “Just transferred from Keystone.” Eliot said. “Not so much nonsense there.” “I hear that. Good to have the backup though.” Eliot nodded. “ You do a walk through?” “Uh, no…. Like I said, no trouble, officer-- “Ted Crichton,” Eliot interrupted. “You haven’t walked through? What if someone’s in there, waiting to assault Mrs. DeVoe when she gets back?” “Well, uh, we don’t have a warrant--” “For crying out loud--” Eliot pulled a paper from his pocket. “See? Now let's go. You stay out here. Who has the back-- does no one have the back door? “ The officers hurried inside. “Don’t forget to check the closets,” Eliot called. -- “ Like I said. Best thief. Best hacker. Now, honestly--and you can run the numbers-- your best bet would be to cut your losses right here, right now. You’re already lying on the stand, so say you were coerced into implicating Mr. Allen--if you need someone to blame I do have a list of patsys that really need the jail time. You do that, put your little plan,” he waggled the book “ back in the box or write it up as the next dystopian best seller for High School English classes to dissect for decades to come, and you can walk away from this.” A laugh. “No one will believe anything you say. That book can’t be traced to me, and even if it could be, it doesn’t prove anything. So someone thinks I’m a supervillain. I’m dead. You have nothing that proves Mr. Allen innocent. You’re out of your mind, Mr. Ford.” “Oh good, you know who I am. Think a little harder.” “As threats go, it’s half baked,” Marlize challenged. “What are you going to do if we refuse? Break Allen out of jail so he can be a fugitive? He’d never go along with it. And the Flash can’t stop us.” “I’d run those numbers again, you’ve left out quite a few variables. But no.” “No?” “If you refuse, if you keep up your little game, lie on the stand, sell that sob story, maybe you're right and the Flash can’t stop you. But he doesn’t need to. I’ll destroy you.” “You.” It was not a question. “For someone claiming to be the smartest man in the world, I’m a bit worried about your memory. I said it already--I’m not here alone. But be my guest. Tell your lies. Right about now the Jury is thinking about what an embarrassment to the city Henry Allen’s trial was and how closely this resembles it… the similarities, the way the timelines don’t quite match up… “ “Really? You’re trying to convince the jury to ignore evidence and go with their hearts? A pathos appeal? That’s not going to work. There’s less than a 3% chance of that even ending in a mistrial, much less acquittal.” “I’m sure that’s what your numbers said,” Nate smiled yet again, this time sharklike. “Cute. I bet you think it’s difficult to get assigned jury duty. “ “It-- we checked all the names. We know--” “You know who they are, yes, yes. But you don’t know who we are. Another sloppy mistake. Now, the jury’s, you're right, not a total slam dunk. So, right now the prosecutor is getting word of some new evidence from a very well respected FBI agent about how helpful the Flash and Mr Allen have both been in assisting with a case against a known human trafficker--you know her, Ammunet Black. The one you bought your puppet from. FBI picked her up…mmm, ten minutes ago? And she had some very interesting things to say. You can guess what they were. Add to that the evidence--” “What evidence?” “The wire transfers between you and Ms. Black. In December and a few days ago. We didn’t even have to fake that first one, but even if the second

one looks a little fishy, the fact that--” “Nate, we got him,” crackled Eliot’s voice in his ear. “--the police just found a metahuman locked in your hall closet--Weeper, I think is what Ms. Black called him-- should make things clear. He wasn’t thrilled about having to stick around much longer but your basement is pretty hard for normal people to find so we had to nudge that a bit. But hey, you’re all for planting evidence. Anyways, court’s in ten minutes…. but the police will be arresting you in about three, if my math’s right-- care to check?-- so I can make this very quick. We have video of you threatening the Flash, holding him prisoner the same night as that wire transfer, proof of Dominic’s powers and sale--my hacker thanks you for all those cameras and bugs, by the way, made his job much easier-- and you add that all up and it sure looks like you got upset at the Flash and Allen for poking into your meta trafficking and decided a frame up was in order.” Nate hefted the folder, “and then there’s this.” “And what,” Marlize asked, shaking with rage, “ is that?” “A copy of files that will be delivered to the FBI, NSA and Dean of Husdson University if you don’t admit to the frame up.” Nate said, thumbing through them. “Proof that you, Mrs. DeVoe, fed information to certain entities across Africa and the Middle East where you were doing your research and aid work to assist in their terror attacks and human trafficking--ties in quite nicely to your work with Ammunet, if I do say so myself. And proof that the “late” Mr. DeVoe plagiarized his thesis, his dissertation, even the syllabi for his classes.” “Lies. No one will believe any of--” “Oh, it’s all very well forged. Except for the bit about the Syllabi. For shame.” Nate tutted. “And part of the dissertation. Can they take away a PH.d posthumously? Anyways, even if it wasn’t, do you really think that no one would believe a man who thinks that giving everyone on the planet late stage Alzheimer’s is going to solve famine and illness? What kind of legitimate history teacher doesn’t know about cholera or the effects of the agricultural revolution? Every lie has a kernel of truth to it.” Nate glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, that certainly was enlightening. And before you decide to simply kill me, run your little calculations with one more variable: Eliot Spencer.” DeVoe’s brow furrowed and what little color he had drained from his face. “ That’s what I thought. Three.. Two.. one.” Nate raised his voice. “ Help! I’m in here!” The door crashed from its hinges. “The Gloat is the best part,” Parker, FBI badge swinging, put an arm over Barry’s shoulders. He stood with Iris next to her and Eliot as the DeVoes were hauled away. “You know, I think I might have to agree,” Iris said, squeezing Barry’s hand. “Or second best, at least,” she added meaningfully. “So… what now?” Joe asked. “I mean, there’s still… the red tape, but… do we need to be worried? Don’t they still have--” “Oh, that sick chair and computer set up?” Hardison asked with a smirk. “I want it.” Harry announced. “When did you get here?” Hardison asked, affronted. -- Parker held up her badge as she pushed the crate up a ramp into Lucille. “Special Agent Hagen! Let me help you with that,” Agent McSweeten said, taking the dolley handle from her. Parker beamed, patting the side, careful not to dislodge the panel on the side. “Thanks!” -- “Anyways, you can’t just call dibs. You’re too late,” Hardison added, giving Parker a fistbump. “We stole it.”

[4awny]

Crenny fluff from Chapter 19

Craig stood up from the bed when he heard the door open.

"Sorry, prolly shoulda' knocked, but I-" Kenny stopped in mid-sentence when he saw Craig standing before him in a fitted t-shirt and shorts. "-thought you'd be expecting me." He finished slowly, using his foot to kick the door behind him. There wasn't anything about the raven that should have stood out, but when Kenny took sight of his lean thighs, there was something about him that just made him stare in absolute awe.

"Hey." Craig greeted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry for the mess."

Kenny looked around his surroundings. What mess? He thought when he saw absolutely nothing out of place. He watched as Craig picked up the empty can of Pepsi from the nightstand and throw it into the trash can. "Oh, that mess." He answered out loud and gave a chuckle. "That's your idea of mess?"

"I didn't have time to clean up. I thought you were gonna give me a heads up."

"You should see my room." Kenny muttered and then threw a thumb behind him. "Anyway, guess what? I just walked all the way from Kyle's. We counted the money. This is your half." He pulled the rucksack from his shoulder and extended his arm out.

Craig eyed the bag suspiciously, a little surprised that his friend had just carried a bunch of money on his own, in the cold. "You didn't have to walk all the way here, I would have just picked it up at a more convenient time."

Kenny had his own good reasoning. "You told me to come by. Plus, I feel bad for hitting you." He nodded to the small red mark on Craig's cheek.

"Don't worry about it." Craig shook his head like it was nothing and took the bag from Kenny's grasp. He didn't bother unzipping it to check. Instead, he dumped it to the floor and turned to his nightstand to pull out a folded piece of paper.

"Happy Birthday."

Kenny accepted the folded paper and as he opened it, his eyes lit up. It was a rough pencil drawing of Deadpool with a middle finger in the air and written in comic book font were the words, Happy 18th Birthday, McCormick. He couldn't stop the huge grin from splitting his face and he loved every detail of it, including the creases from where it had been folded multiple times.

"Wow, thank you so much, man. You really didn't have to do this." This feeling of surprise didn't falter and he pulled his eyes away from the gifted artwork to lock them onto Craig's. As if his body moved on its own, he stepped forward and on his tippy toes, he wrapped an arm around the taller male's neck, pulling him into a warm embrace.

The unusual contact came as a bit of a shock to Craig, but as he felt a second arm wrap around the other side of his neck, he found his arms snaking their way around Kenny's waist, pulling him in close.

It was usual behaviour for Kenny to give hugs, but it was not usual behaviour for it to last as long as it did. The way Craig's arm hugged tightly around his body, combined with how their torsos rested so intimately against each other, was a feeling neither of them could have ever comprehended from each other.

When Kenny pulled back, one of his hands fell to comfort against Craig's chest, with the other remaining where it was behind his neck. When Craig saw blue eyes flickering to his parted lips, he froze. He felt this nervous feeling in his chest and he wasn't sure how to recover from it. Their lips were that close to each other, Craig could feel the warm breath emitting from the blond's parted mouth. It looked as though he was waiting for something.

Is he waiting... for me? Craig wondered as he watched Kenny's eyelids lower into a mysterious, hooded gaze. His blue eyes not once leaving his lips. Craig felt this fixation, this temptation, this adoration... All of these sudden feelings swarmed his mind and it was almost like something else was taking over his entire consciousness. He had the sudden urge to pull his arms away and shove Kenny with force. The blond stumbled back, hitting the wall firmly behind him. Stunned by the abrupt push, Kenny's expression turned to panic, assuming he crossed the mark.

But as Craig stepped forward, the blond learnt that this new look in his friend's eyes was not anger. It was indeed, lust.

Kenny's eyes softened when he felt a set of fast hands cup around the sides of jaw, thumbs clenching at his cheeks. He allowed his back to push into the wall behind him and his mind fuzzled into a moment of sheer joy when Craig pressed his lips onto his.

It was a bold move to make for him, but it was leaf he had subconsciously taken from the Book of Kenny, because just for a split second, he felt himself living for the moment.

It felt right.

Kenny's idle arms found a way to move on their own and his fingers wrapped loosely around Craig's wrists. The blond always took pride in knowing how to take control in a relationship, but with Craig, he found himself lost in what to do with himself. It was easy with a woman, because the general consensus was for the male to be domineering and he had no problem with doing that. But it was Craig that appeared to be the dominating and although Kenny was totally down for it, it felt completely new to him.

Craig pulled back to see the blond's eyes flicker open. Their eyes connected for a brief second, before he leaned back in and kissed him again. One of his hands dropped to wrap around the side of his neck and the other hand slipped down to the blond's slender hip, pulling him in close enough for their lower abdomens to bump together.

"Mm, wait~" Kenny murmured into his mouth, but neither of them pulled away. "Craig, hang- hang on just a second."

Mumbling against his lips, Craig grew a little impatient. "What is it?"

"No, nothing. Ah, it's just~" A rough sound of arousal left Kenny's lips and a hand pushed at Craig's chest. "I need to tell you-"

"Spit it out, McCormick." He released the fingers that were clamped onto the blond's waist and dipped them under his flimsy jacket. When his fingers touched the small of Kenny's back, he flinched at how icy the skin was. "Fuck, what's wrong with you, why're you so cold?"

Kenny felt a sense of loss when the hands on his body abandoned their positions. "Hey, you try walking two and a half miles in the blistering winds and see how far it gets you."

"Take this off." Craig pulled on the zip of the blond's second hand jacket and backed away to the wardrobe. He shuffled through the neatly aligned and color coordinated items of clothing and stopped when he came across one of his favourite hoodies. He had to stop wearing it throughout senior year, because it was getting too small for him. Glancing over at his friend's small frame, he figured he may have found its new owner.

Kenny had already shrugged his jacket off and hung it up on the door handle by the time Craig came over with the new item of clothing. "Hm." He hummed in amusement when he saw the small NASA logo on the top left hand side. "I remember seeing you wearing that thing all the time last year."

"I miss wearing it." Craig confessed as the sweater was taken from his grasp. "It'll keep you warm, but you should really buy a coat or something. I don't wanna hear none of that I have no money bullshit, either. I don't care if you're saving it up, you've got more than enough to spend fifty bucks on a decent coat."

The blond slipped the hoodie over his head and straightened out the hem. "Yes, sir." He mocked playfully, shifting around in front of the mirror to check out his new outfit. He slicked his blond strands back and when he was satisfied with his look, he turned to face the man standing behind him. "What do you think?" He asked, extending out his arms.

Craig tilted his head to the side to study his look, but it was more of an excuse to admire his physique. Sure, he was a little malnourished, but it would only take a couple of decent meals to fill him out. But even so, he believed Kenny still looked perfect. He was clumsy, a little rough around the edges and filled with complete optimism, even on the worst of days. There was not one bad bone in the blond's body and Craig thought it was incredibly admirable.

Kenny was a good guy and only now, was he really starting to notice it.

"Looks better on you than it ever did on me." Craig admitted as he folded his arms.

"Well, you're not wrong." The blond agreed with a cheeky smile, before stepping forward. "Dayum. You weren't lying when you said it'll keep me warm, huh?" He fanned a hand in front of his neutral tempered face to pretend to cool down. "Whew, it sure is warm in here. What is that you got on, central heating or something?"

Craig rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop the smirk forming on his lips as he played into Kenny's little game. "If you're that hot, maybe you should take your sweater off."

"What? Oh, this thing?" The blond pulled at the collar. "Ah, what a great idea. I never even thought of that."

Just before he could grab at the hem, Craig's fingers got there first. "Here, let me help you."

Kenny lifted his arms in the air and when his head poked through the hole, their eyes immediately locked on to each other and the gray garment was discarded to the floor next to two pairs of socked feet. Having a floor littered with worn clothing, was always a pet peeve of Craig's. However, that thought didn't even cross his mind and if anything, it looked better on his bedroom floor anyway.

"You were saying?" Craig spoke, the comforting sound of his voice reeling the blond in with each word. "Just now, you were about to tell me something."

"I was?" Balancing on the balls of his feet and leaning in, Kenny's fixation on trying to search for whatever it was in those fair eyes had clouded his mind and he had to wait for Craig's words to catch up on him. He then remembered what he wanted to say. "Oh, I was."

"Tell me."

It wasn't that he didn't want to tell him, he just lost the nerve. Could he really just go ahead and unmask his online persona to Craig right here and now? I have to, right? No, wait. I can't. Not now. Bad time. Later. Promise. He concluded in the shortest argument in the world.

"Craig-" He whispered out, eyes darting between the left and right eye. It felt like he had been waiting for this day for an agonizingly long time. He never believed that this moment was ever going to be possible outside of his lasting daydreams and extensive fantasies. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for this?"

A twitch of confusion from the crease of his brow was a sign that Craig had been completely oblivious to these growing feelings Kenny had for him. Had it really been that long? How long was that long anyway? The thought of Kenny crushing over him while he was none the wiser was a little overwhelming. All of those times the blond would flirt with him and he would brush it off, thinking he was being mocked or played with and this whole time... it was a sign?

Have I really missed all of the signs? The thought passed through his mind as well as the memories of all of his past interactions with Kenny. It was surprising at how many memories came forth in a matter of seconds, but he didn't have the time to organize them and decipher each one, because that was going to take a couple of sleepless nights, at the very least.

"No, I really have no idea." He admitted and a small part of Kenny felt disappointed for not advancing on their friendship sooner. But then again, Craig was a confusing guy and had rejected almost every move Kenny tried to make on him, so maybe it was all to do with the right timing.

Kenny dropped his attention to the floor as his lips cracked into a bashful smile. "Nah, I didn't think you did."

Of course, Craig was insanely curious by this and was determined to know exactly how long Kenny had felt this way, but they had all the time in the world to talk about it and as of right now, he had other things on his mind.

"Alright, enough with the confessions." The taller male declared and smoothed a hand down Kenny's arm, before yanking him in close by the forearm.

Stumbling into an unexpected kiss, a soft sound of surprise escaping the blond's throat. He felt a second hand reach the side of his neck, the same way it did before and he leaned into the touch, like a purring cat.

With his body now warmed up, not only from the luxurious privilege of having quality central heating, but also from heat of Craig's hands, Kenny started to find his confidence again. He withdrew from the kiss only to grab at Craig's collar with both hands and pull his head down to his level to meet his lips. He took the parting of Craig's lips as an invitation and their tongues met in the middle. Light licking turned more ferocious with each breath they shared, silencing their thoughts and submitting to the intense arousal.

Having escaped the fierce cold from the piercing winds outside, Kenny was now facing a desperate escape from the radiating heat burning beneath his skin. He lightly pushed Craig to move back, but as the raven was too invested in his own lustful thoughts, he took the gesture as a form of rough play and gripped the hand he had on the side of Kenny's neck harder with a few of his fingernails digging into the back roots of blond hair.

"Argh." A pained hiss of pleasure escaped Kenny's lips and he could have sworn the guy had just glued razor blades to his fingers, because there was just no way anyone could have a grip that sharp.

Do that again. The words were about to slip from his mouth, but it seemed as though God was finally there to grant him his wish.

Craig's hand abandoned the neck completely after hearing that erotic sound leave Kenny's lips and snaked it into the growing length of blond hair. Still needs a haircut. He argued and made a valid point by tugging a fistful of hair back. Kenny couldn't read his thoughts, but he could feel the firm grip on the back of his head and it made him smirk with pleasure.

"I didn't think you'd be so... rough." Kenny admitted when he pulled away. He felt the firm hold on his head release and the tension was replaced with soft, inquisitive fingers.

"Your hair is soft." Craig noted as a second hand pushed back the falling strands from Kenny's forehead. "Would look better if it was short."

Kenny's attention bounced between the two eyes that were inspecting his mess of blond hair. The features on Craig's face were captivating him in every way possible. From the piercing gray eyes, to the sharp jawline, to the small horizontal scar sitting above his left eyebrow. It was barely noticeable and if he was any further away, he wouldn't have noticed it.

In the midst of wondering what kind of badass hustle Craig could have possibly gotten himself into to receive such a battle scar, he also took the comments about his hair into consideration. Kenny wasn't sentimental when it came to hairstyles and even if Craig preferred it fully shaved, he would have done just that. So with a sudden spark flashing through his mind of ideas, he came to a decision.

"Craig, can I ask- if you don't like something, what do you usually do about it?"

Still playing with Kenny's hair, he took a moment to think about it. "Give me an example, I need context."

"So like. Okay, let's say, you really wanted to go and see a local band. All your buddies are going, everyone's gonna be there, there's gonna be booze, drugs, sex. Y'know, the usual shit, right?"

"Right." Craig hesitated, wondering where the blond was about to take this.

"So one night, your ma's there. She's getting all menstrual with you, telling you, you can't go. You're all like, why the fuck not? My name's Craig Tucker, not Cuck Tucker, you get what I'm saying?" The gap Kenny left was meant for Craig to agree, but Craig didn't agree. He just halted his hand movements and watched his friend tell the story in silence. "So anyway, she starts yelling. Your dad comes home after a fourteen hour shift, he starts yelling. Your sister comes down the stairs, annoyed that her Disney Plus subscription has expired, so now she's yelling. Stripe leaves his bed for the first time that day to find no food in his bowl and guess what? He's now yelling too. Everyone's mad at each other and poor Craig is stuck in the middle. So you're all like, man! Fuck this shit, if I wanna go to a stupid party, I'm gonna go to a stupid party! Your dad turns to you and says if you leave this house, don't bother coming back! So. What do you do?"

Taking in the question, which felt more like another one of Kenny's monologues, Craig tried to express an answer in the best way he could. "Um. Well, first of all, I don't understand what relevance any of that had to do with each other. Why is Stripe getting involved?"

"Because you forgot to feed him, so he's mad?" Kenny's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows drew together, the answer being seemingly obvious to him. "I don't get how you're confused, I'd be mad too if my owner forgot to-" He quickly closed his mouth before letting the irony of what he was about to say leave his lips. "Look. This ain't about me right now. This is about you."

"You focus too much on little details." Craig noted, but it was not to criticize. He enjoyed listening to the minor details Kenny would come up with, even for the sake of a stupid story. It blossomed his creative mind, something Craig could express visually through pen and paper, but not verbally. To create color with words, he thought it was an admirable quality to have.

"Will you just answer the darn question?"

"I don't even know what the question was. Are you asking me to choose between staying home to avoid being... grounded? And miss out on the fun, or go to the party or band or whatever it was and just deal with the consequences afterwards?"

"Yeah." Kenny confirmed with a nod.

"It wouldn't matter if this is a realistic question or a hypothetical one, because you should already know the answer to this pointless question."

"There is a point to this, I swear." The blond assured.

"Okay." Craig sighed and decided to just play along. "Anyone that tells me I can't do something, I tell them to go fuck themselves and go ahead and do it anyway."

The attitude behind the words was amusing enough as it was and it was not an exaggeration. He was a man of his word.

"Interesting." Kenny mused, slipping away from the grasp and backing to the door behind him. "You know what? You, Craig Tucker, can not cut my hair. I will not allow it. There will be consequences if you decide to cut my hair." When Craig did nothing but blink at him, Kenny elaborated further. "Craig. I am refusing to let you cut my hair. Re-fu-sing. I do not consent, for reasons unknown. Get what I'm saying?"

It didn't take much longer for Craig to catch on to the silly game Kenny was playing. He couldn't understand why someone would waste so much breath for a simple question. It did not make sense to him and he should have known better, because he knew more than anyone that Kenny was a talker.

"You want me to give you a haircut?"

The grin on the blond's face dropped in an instant and he scratched a spot at the back of his head. "Yeah, we'll go with that."

Craig's lips broke into a soft smile as he sighed. "You talk too much. Would've been easier if you just asked."

"Yeah, I don't know if you're aware of this, but people usually, you know... play along?" He gestured his hands in a circular motion. "That's kinda how it works. Cartman's the worst for it, sometimes you can't tell if he's joking or being deadly serious."

"Doesn't that show you how different our friendship groups are?"

"Yeah and yours is yawn, boring. I got Kyle and Eric fighting all the time and do you know what that means for me?" He didn't even get time to respond before Kenny answered. "Front row seats, baby."

Craig rolled his eyes and found himself grateful for not having to put up with that much drama within his own squad. But then again, Clyde had already been a handful over the last few months, so maybe they were even with the drama. "Speaking of which, I presume you heard about what happened between Clyde and Cartman the other day?"

Kenny tilted his head, like a curious pup that had just learnt the command word for treat. "Something happened?"

Craig picked up the pair of scissors from the stationary cup that was on his desk and nodded his head to the door. "Come on, I'll tell you about it when I chop this goddamn mop from your head."

.Despite the negative opinions he had on Kenny's hairstyle, it would have been ironic to say that it actually started to grow on him.

The Chat Room Scandal - Chapter 19

Feel free to read the entire fic on AO3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31878976/chapters/82834027

[shinydelirium]

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 8 (Kiro) Final Part [High Speed Road] & [Buffer] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

For the previous translations of Season 2 Chapter 8: Part 1, Part 2

Enjoy~

[High Speed Road]

At three o’clock in the afternoon, all the procedures of the new song conference were ready.

The warm sun dispersed the chill air, and the fans who were selected to participate in this conference have lined up at the ticket gate.

Many fans who didn’t get a ticket also came to experience the atmosphere, and the square was crowded with people for a while.

The security guards patrolled the square at each area with communicators and everything went on in an orderly manner.

I breathed a sigh of relief and when I was about to call Savin and ask him to bring Kiro over, I realized that I couldn’t reach him.

I called Kiro shortly after and the call was quickly connected.

Kiro: Savin isn’t at the company today. Did he go straight to the venue?

MC: Why would he? He should’ve gone directly to the company to pick you up this morning.

Kiro: Huh… I didn’t see him. I thought he was with you.

Kiro’s words left me confused.

MC: Could something have happened?

Kiro: Wait, Savin’s calling me.

Kiro shared the voice call with me. The intermittent signal connection was unstable.

Savin: I….accidentally….asleep in the carriage….

Savin: But who knows….no one in this carriage…..waking up….

Savin: Can’t stop yet….its….

The signal abruptly cut off.

MC: What’s going on?

Kiro: The call can’t be reached and the signal seems to be affected.

Kiro: MC, I’m heading out, wait for me wherever you are.

In the backstage preparation room, Kiro’s fingers tapped on the keyboard quickly.

After a while, a satellite map of Loveland City appeared on the computer screen as well as a constantly moving red dot.

Kiro: This is where Savin is now.

Kiro: Strange, how did he cover so much distance all at once….

Looking at the computer screen, the red dot seems to be moving along a certain fixed track.

I remembered what Savin said just now and I couldn’t believe it.

MC: Is he really on an unmanned train?

Kiro pursed his lips and quickly pulled up another webpage.

It’s the entire route map on the Loveland Rail Transit website.

Kiro: ….According to the route he is moving on now, it should be this one.

He tapped the screen with his finger and a more detailed train timetable and line chart enlarged on the screen.

This is a cross-river train which just opened last year that connects the east and west of Loveland City.

Because it’s famous for driving on the river surface for a certain distance, it attracts many locals and tourists.

In addition, after the opening of this route, detours on both sides of the river have been avoided, so it has become the best choice for many office workers to commute.

MC: Doesn’t Savin take this train to work…

Kiro: But MC, look.

My eyes followed his fingers on the latest operation notice and I quickly realized something wrong.

MC: “We are sorry to inform you that the cross-river air rail train in Loveland City will be suspended tomorrow for maintenance and overhaul….”

MC: ….In other words, someone started this car that was originally discontinued.

Although this idea is absurd, it seems to be the case.

Kiro thought for a moment and made a decision immediately.

Kiro: Let’s go to the scene and see.

Kiro called Ah Liu for help. After a while, Ah Liu, who was holding his head with hair sticking up everywhere, appeared in front of us with grievance.

Ah Liu: Can’t it stop for a day! I was taking a nap! I’m exhausted from having to do all this work for you! ***Changed some wording***

Having said that, Ah Liu kindly transported us to the platform where the train was about to appear.

There was no one on the deserted platform. We waited for a while and a rumbling sound came from the dark tunnel.

But the train passed the platform without stopping.

Every carriage is empty.

Kiro and I looked at each other and realized the situation.

In order to determine if there is a problem with the train, I tried to dial the service number of Loveland Rail Transit.

MC: Hello, is the Loveland City Air Rail Transit operating today?

Staff Member: Sorry, the train is not open today.

MC: May I ask the specific reason?

Staff Member: During our regular maintenance yesterday, we found that some track parts were aging and loose. In order to avoid the risk of derailment, the operation was stopped.

MC: Which station needs to be maintained?

Staff Member: Central Square Station, what’s wrong?

My heart sank.

The Central Square Station is the station where Kiro’s new song press conference was held, and the train track is also located directly above the square.

At the same time, it’s also the place with the most traffic in the afternoon.

If the train derails and falls, the consequences will be disastrous.

Is it a coincidence….?

MC: …Then, is it possible for the train to run by itself?

Staff Member: Are you kidding me? The driver did not go to work today and the door of the operating room was locked.

Staff Member: Please don’t disturb our work.

The “beep” sound of the phone hanging up echoed in my ears. Kiro and Ah Liu obviously also heard the content of the conversation, frowning.

Ah Liu: What’s next? Is this event going to be cancelled?

Ah Liu’s words suddenly reminded me.

That’s right! The anonymous call I received this morning—

I immediately found the call log and called back.

I waited with bated breath for a long time and just when I thought the other person wouldn’t pick up, the line connected.

No one spoke. Only quiet breathing.

MC: Hello, I’m the person in charge of the Inverted Smile Film and Television company that received your call this morning.

The sound of breathing continued on the other end.

Teenage Boy: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

MC: Like you said, we have indeed encountered some issues that affected the organization of the event.

MC: I want to know what the “consequence” you are talking about is exactly.

MC: Did you know what the inside story was before you made the warning call?

Teenage Boy: ….It’s too late!

MC: Are you—on an unmanned train?

The phone hung up with a “beep”.

Kiro: What happened?

Kiro cast a concerned look at me. I took a deep breath and quickly told him and Ah Liu what had happened this morning.

MC: I received a strange call this morning telling me to cancel the afternoon activities or else I will bear the consequences.

MC: I’m just guessing….if these two things are related, otherwise it would be a coincidence.

MC: However, although I was able to get through, the other person was unwilling to explain more and hung up.

Kiro thought for a moment, then turned to look at Ah Liu.

Kiro: Ah Liu, can you take us there?

Ah Liu: Where?

Kiro: To that train.

Kiro pointed to the red dot that was being tracked on the laptop.

Ah Liu: Bro, are you crazy?! Have you studied physics?***Changed some wording***

Kiro: Ah Liu, don’t forget the content of our contract.

Kiro winked, revealing an extremely brilliant but threatening smile.

Ah Liu had no choice but to grab our hands—

A dazzling white light flashed in front of us and when we regained our sight, we were already in the carriage.

The ground under my feet trembles as well as the glass on the windows.

MC: It really worked! Ah Liu, you’re so amazing!

We didn’t waste time as we looked along the carriage and finally found Savin who was unconscious on the ground.

Kiro hurriedly ran to him, shook Savin twice, and saw that he had no signs of waking up. He moved closer and opened his eyelids.

Kiro: Great, Savin is fine. He only passed out.

Kiro: But there must be someone else operating this train here. We must find this person.

Kiro and I looked at each other and realized that things are not that simple.

Ah Liu sent Savin to a safe place. After returning, the three of us continued to search along this weird train.

Finally, when we reached another carriage, we saw a teenage boy sitting in the corner.

MC: Are you trapped on this train too?

He suddenly raised his head, his face full of shock as if he didn’t expect that there would be people here.

His appearance made me feel a bit familiar.

I suddenly remembered that this was the boy who passed by me at the airport that day—

Why is he here? Did he…

MC: You’re the one who called me and asked me to cancel the event.

Teenage Boy: …You’re mistaken.

Hearing his voice, I became even more convinced.

MC: I’m not mistaken. We met at the airport too, didn’t we?

Teenage Boy: ….

The boy suddenly got up from the seat anxiously. His pale lips pressed tight and shoulders shook slightly.

Teenage Boy: This car will derail soon. If you don’t want to die, leave as soon as possible.

Teenage Boy: Don’t blame me for warning you—

A ripple was opened behind the boy and Ah Liu quickly restrain the boy’s arms.

Ah Liu: I got him. Let’s resolve this quickly.***Changed some wording***

Kiro: Thanks a lot.

Teenage Boy: Le-let go! You guys hate Evolvers!

Kiro: You’re also an Evolver, aren’t you?

Kiro: Although I don’t know what your Evol is, I’m guessing you started this train too, right?

Teenage Boy: You—!

Kiro: I command you—

Before Kiro finished speaking, the seat behind him was suddenly torn apart by an invisible power and flew toward us fast!

Kiro: Watch out!

Kiro rolled me to the corner of the carriage without hesitation and the ground where we were standing just now sank.

The glass on the window made a stronger sound and the speed of the train became faster than before.

All of a sudden, I remembered a few years ago I participated in the filming of “Miracle Finder” with the theme of a rare Evol, in which “magnetic field control” was featured.

At that time, we wanted to interview this child but his family rejected because it was too dangerous.

Perhaps…he was that same child.

MC: This child should be an Evolver of the magnetic field control class.

Kiro and Ah Liu both wrinkled their brows, realizing the tricky nature of the matter.

Every part of the train may be used by him as a weapon to attack us and we must avoid the possibility of any accident to the greatest extent.

Teenage Boy: I warned you, if you value your life, leave quickly!***Changed some wording***

MC: Don’t worry, we didn’t come because of you.

MC: Don’t you….like your Evol?

I tentatively took a step towards him, hoping this boy can lower his defense a little.

Teenage Boy: ….It’s none of your business.

A loud sound came from a distance as if something passed along the track from underneath.

The overhead is full of noise and the handrails that run through the carriage seem to be breaking inch by inch with the boy’s voice.

The sharp squeal of metal rubbing across our ears, it is about ot —

I didn’t have time to think about it, and I tried my best to grab the boy’s wrist.

In the next second, my vision suddenly plunged into darkness.

As if pressing a rewind button, the train and people in front of me kept falling backwards.

----I saw the boy’s memory.

[Buffer]

The mixed memory fragments slowly pieced together into a complete picture.

A teenage boy shivered endlessly while pulling a wet schoolbag. He cried as he picked up a book soaked with water.

Teenage Boy: If only I can become an Evolver, they won’t bully me….

Teenage Friend: Don’t be stupid, aren’t Evolvers born?

Teenage Friend: Wipe your tears away. I’ll copy today’s homework for you, okay?

The picture flickers and changes.

Teenage Boy: Ajian! (friend’s name I’m assuming) I’m also an Evolver! I won’t be bullied! The doctor said that my condition is quite normal. It may have been due to poor health which wasn’t detected before.

Teenage Friend: Wow, you’ll be super awesome in the future!

Teenage Boy: Hahaha, but I won’t be like those idiot bullies. They are too naïve!

The picture continued to change but I felt extremely angry and desperate.

??: Sorry, we cannot accept such a dangerous student in a class full of ordinary children….

??: Sorry, the residents of our community think that your child is too dangerous to live here….

??: I’m, I’m sorry…..Xiao Nan(boy’s name) your ability is terrible. We can no longer be friends.

The surrounding voices faded away, falling into a dead silence.

Teenage Boy: I don’t want to be an Evolver anymore. I don’t want to have this kind of power at all. I want to be an ordinary person….

In the large, hushed and silent gray space, the spiral staircase hovered down from the high roof, like a venomous snake lying dormant in the dark.

The light swayed from the long and narrow zenith. The boy raised his hand to block the light in front of him and took a step back subconsciously.

Teenage Boy: Excuse me….are there people here who don’t like Evol?

The teenager’s timid voice echoed in the building.

??: Come, child, don’t be afraid.

The man’s voice is very gentle but his whole body is hidden in the dark, making it difficult to see his face.

??: We understand your pain. There are many people like you here. We are victims of the same kind.

??: But you are different from us. You have the power to wipe out these sources of pain.

He stretched out his hand, like a predator in the depths of the cave waiting for its prey to be snatched-- luring the prey into the cave little by little.

The picture changed again, this time on a plane.

Not knowing what happened, the cabin shook violently.

The teenager sitting in the seat bit his lip and slowly stretched out his hand. His eyes fell on the closed operating room door.

My heart pounded and a familiar word came into my ears very clearly.

??: We rule Evol, for a better future of mankind.

--It’s GRAY RHINO!

My eyes snapped open. The blood from my whole body rushed to my head and I was abruptly flung back by a force.

The ground under my feet kept shuddering and the boy ran away towards the carriage in front of him.

MC: Wait!

The handrail above my head was suddenly torn off and came towards me. Kiro protected me.

Kiro: MC, are you okay?!

MC: GRAY RHINO….

I faintly uttered the name, and my heart filled with anger.

MC: I’m fine.

I propped myself up and quickly told Kiro and Ah Liu about what I saw.

MC: This accident….GRAY RHINO planned it all.

After hearing what I said, Kiro’s brows furrowed deeply and his expression became more serious.

Kiro: Did you…see his memory? Is this boy also a member of the anti-Evol organization?

I hesitated for a moment and shook my head.

MC: I didn’t see the same tattoo on his body so he’s only being used by the people from GRAY RHINO.

Just like the two special police officers who died in the Task Force.

MC: I’m guessing the previous plane incident was also their doing, but…

It was only after the boy used Evol that the shaking of the cabin seemed to lessen.

MC: Kiro, is this their revenge against the Evolver group?

Kiro nodded softly.

Kiro: Probably.

Kiro: Once this train derails, it will definitely cause serious casualties.

Kiro: This accident will also be concluded to be the work of an Evolver.

The train was speeding by, and the floor was bumping underfoot.

The sunlight reflected from the glass curtain wall illuminates the passing cars and I see a familiar building in the distance. My heart plummets.

There are not many stops to Central Square.

If this train isn’t stopped as soon as possible, it will crash into the crowd below.

MC: We have to find him quickly!

Kiro pulled me along the carriages but the young boy was still missing.

Just as I was about to lose hope, we opened the door of the first carriage and found the boy again.***Changed some wording***

He shrank in the corner of the carriage, like a light-sensitive animal.

Teenage Boy: Do-don’t come any closer!

The moment he saw us, the boy stood up and his body shook frantically.

Compared to the state he was before, his entire body seemed to express a sort of tight tension.

MC: Don’t get excited, we won’t hurt you. We’re—

Kiro: We’re here to be friends with you.

Kiro interrupted me altogether, walked over to the boy and sat down.

The unexpected behavior made Ah Liu and I stand still, speechless, but Kiro was very indifferent.

Teenage Boy: Do-don’t lie! I know you’re that star who was on social news before!

Kiro: Eh? Am I that troublesome?

Kiro immediately put on a melancholy expression.

Kiro: But since just now, I think your abilities are very powerful, just like the superheroes in the movies.

Kiro: So I really want to be friends with you.

A look of disbelief appeared on the boy’s face and he looked at Kiro uncertainly.***Changed some wording***

Teenage Boy: I’m not a hero. I have done a lot of wrong things and I don’t want to an Evolver at all.

His voice suddenly became low, as if thinking of something sad.

Teenage Boy: I just want to be an ordinary person with many friends so I won’t be bullied.

Teenage Boy: But after I found out that I had Evol, my life grew worse…

Ah Liu: Hey, I get you. I used to be laughed at and people said that my Evol can only be good for takeaway flash delivery.

Ah Liu: I’ve survived now and those days have gone by smoothly.

After what happened to Ah Liu, a look of surprise came across the boy’s face.

Kiro: When I was a child, I was also troubled by my Evol.

Kiro: Fortunately, I met a very good person. He taught me a lot of interesting skills and made me understand that there many wonderful things in this world.

When Kiro spoke, a ray of light flashed in his eyes. The person he’s talking about must be his master KEY.

Kiro: Those memories that make you unhappy, just lock them in the drawer.

MC: That’s right. People don’t have to be held back by the past all the time.

The boy hesitated for a moment, raised his head, looked at me uncertainly, and then at Kiro.

Teenage Boy: Can I….throw away this drawer key?

Kiro: You can put the key away and when you are brave enough, you can open it and face them. You won’t have to be afraid of anything.

Teenage Boy: But….you’re a superstar. Everyone likes you. How would you have difficulties like me?

Kiro: Before becoming a star, I was an ordinary, humble person.

Ah Liu: No way, I heard that you started shooting at the age of six—

MC: Ah Liu, no need to say so much!***Changed some wording***

As if not hearing our untimely interruption, Kiro turned his head and looked at the tear-stained teenager gently.

Kiro: In fact, whether someone is an Evolver or an ordinary person, they will find their own rightful place in this world to meet people who are in the same position.

Kiro: But before that, there may be a long wait and trials.

Kiro: Perhaps the opportunity that belongs to you has not had time to appear so you will have to be more patient.

Teenage Boy: Really?

Kiro: Really.

Ah Liu and I nodded repeatedly.

As soon as he finished speaking, the bright light poured into the window, making people unable to close their eyes.

The two sides of the window flashed past the cantilever metal structure of the bridge. The neighboring river’s surface and the buildings bathed in golden light suddenly came into view.

Kiro: You see, through the dark tunnel just now, you can see the light all at once.

The boy’s face became paler but his voice became firmer.

Teenage Boy: I will give it a try.

Great! Seeing the boy finally change his mind, I was a little relieved.

He tried to use Evol to control the train. Even though the speed was significantly lower than before, the train did not stop.

Teenage Boy: I, I can’t do it. I’m almost out of strength…

A sharp grinding sound scraped  along the wall and the train sped past, even furiously shaking the handrails on the roof.

My heart seized in my chest.

Teenage Boy: It’s too late….I did something irreparably wrong…

Teenage Boy: I, I shouldn’t have listened to that man….I don’t want to hurt anyone….

Teenage Boy: I’m sorry, I’m sorry….

The young boy looked at his palm with a blank look and couldn’t help crying.

Kiro: Now, look into my eyes.

Kiro unquestionably pulled his shoulders, letting the boy look directly at him.

Kiro: I command you, stop this car!

A golden light blazed in his eyes and it seemed to have the power to stir people’s hearts.

The train slowly stopped and the sharp friction between the carriages and the rails gradually subsided.

The boy softened and sat on the ground, staring at the scenery frozen outside the window.

Teenage Boy: It really stopped….

The train had stopped in the middle of the cross-river track and the shimmering water’s surface reflected a hazy light on the window glass.

Kiro showed a relieved expression, with fine beads of sweat oozing from his forehead. Ah Liu was also obviously relieved.

Seeing my nervousness, Kiro gently squeezed the palm of my hand.

Teenage Boy: I’m sorry. I have always been a cowardly person.

The young boy suddenly apologized as if he had mustered up a lot of courage.

Teenage Boy: I was afraid to face it so I chose to escape in the way I hated most. I will definitely try to make myself stronger in the future!

Kiro patted the boy’s shoulder lightly, showing an encouraging smile.

Kiro: Mn, I believe you.

Before we had time to be happy, there was a sudden recoil.

The train that had just stopped suddenly moved forward again!

-End of Chapter 8-

Continue to Chapter 9 Part 1

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #242: “EASY COME... EASY GO!”

April, 1984

“Okay Avengers, the party’s over!”

Being a buzzkill, party-hating Cover Vision!

Hmm. Something about this cover makes it feel like from an older era. The returned Mighty Avengers logo or maybe the inking? Or perhaps the Silver Age DC superdickery energy to it? I can’t put my finger on it but this feels like a cover you’d see in the 70s instead of the 80s.

Last time on Avengers: Well, they went to San Francisco for a two-parter where they fought Morgan Le Fey to save Jessica Drew’s soul. As ya do.

Vision has also been a tube boy after he walked into a null field. Starfox hooked him up to the Titan supercomputer and that didn’t fix him, it did overclock his robot brain and let him broadcast giant holograms of his own head. That’s almost as good.

This time:

Some guy: “HOLY GEEZ!”

An interesting note, this guy has only ever seen Quinjets in pictures and never thought he’d see one in person. Tells you how often the Avengers hang around Ottumwa, Iowa.

We start with the Avengers in mid-return from California.

In one of the Quinjets, She-Hulk is telling Starfox that she wished they could have spent more time before returning to New York so she could have shown him LA.

Starfox: “Ah, well... I’m sure another opportunity will present itself, She-Hulk! Besides, the scenery around her has plenty to offer!”

Wanda looks like she’s trying to astral project away from Starfox putting his hand on her shoulder but she’s really just distracted thinking about Vision.

The Avengers on the Jessica Drew mission radioed back to the Mansion that they were bringing Hank Pym home but Wanda suggested that Hank could examine Vision and maybe fix him. But Vision rejected the idea and Wanda is at a loss for why he’s determined to overcome his robo-paralysis on his own.

I’m also a little confused why they didn’t call on Hank Pym sooner to examine tube Vision but then again that would have been super awkward for Wasp and Reed Richards, that hack, said Vision should have recovered quickly.

Speaking of super awkward, Hank and Wasp are alone together in the other Quinjet.

Hank is also baffled that Vision turned down his help. He repaired him once before! Remember? He got super tiny and had a fantastic voyage inside him? In Avengers #93?

Jan comments that she hasn’t heard Hank sound so confident in years and he confirms that devoting his time fully to SCIENCE and taking superheroing off the table as an option has done wonders for his emotional outlook.

He also reiterates that he never felt cut out for the superhero life. Aw, enjoy it while it lasts, bud.

And he thanks her for calling him Hank instead of “Dr. Pym” like she did at the hospital.

Wasp: “Oh... That. Well, when you flew out at my request to help save Jessica Drew’s life... after all we’d been through... the divorce and all... I’m afraid I slipped into my stuffy Avengers chairwoman voice. I thought it might make things easier, but it didn’t... For either of us. I’m sorry, Hank.”

Hank Pym: “That’s okay, Jan. I understand. Your ‘stuffy chairwoman voice,’ huh? Heh-heh. How often do you have to use that?”

Wasp: “Wellll... Most of the time the others will go along with ol’ ‘dingaling Jan’ -- but sometimes, I have to get tough. That never fails to grab their attention!”

Hank Pym: “No doubt! Once, I was the only Avenger who knew how tough you really were! I’m glad the others are learning.”

Wasp: “I guess that none of us are ever too old to learn, Hank.”

Feels like Hank is rewriting some things in his memories since Jan often had to diminish herself to make him feel better but then again it didn’t always work so maybe the idea is that he knew all along how strong she was?

Either way, nice to see these two interacting so amiably.

Also, I like that she’s able to be an effective leader while still being ‘dingaling Jan’ since it doesn’t change how smart and capable she is. And the contrast if she has to get serious only helps.

I think overall I like that her leadership style is so uniquely her and that when her character was retrofitted to operate outside of being ‘Hank Pym’s partner’ she still remained recognizably her.

We have a whopping several women on the Avengers at this time (glorious) and Wasp, She-Hulk, Scarlet Witch, and Captain Marvel all feel like different characters.

Since Vision declined Hank Pym’s help, Wasp drops him off back home in Central Indiana.

Once these two were husband and wife, friends and lovers. But they were very different people and, without meaning to, they hurt each other very much. Today, they have perhaps put a small bit of that hurt behind them. Today, they have again become friends.

Daaaaw. Friends.

Wasp returns to Avengers Mansion to discover there’s a full-on party going on. There’s even streamers and a Captain America who seems incredibly enthusiastic about streamers.

(In another fun bit, Monica knew about the party already because she flew ahead to the mansion before joining Wasp in the Quinjet after she dropped off Hank. And she was bursting to not tell Wasp what was going on as they landed.)

Wasp is even more surprised when she learns that the party is celebrating Hawkeye’s marriage.

Wasp: “Barton? You mean Hawkeye? Married?!?”

Hawkeye: “‘Fraid so, Jan! I’d like you to meet my bride... Mockingbird.”

Mockingbird: “How do you do?”

Wasp: “Oh... fine. You’ll have to excuse me. This is... quite a surprise.”

A reaction that Mockingbird says she’s getting used to because she’s seeing it from all of Hawkeye’s friends!

Hah!

Hawkeye asks Cap on the sly whether he made the right move, getting married, but Cap is very supportive, saying its the most responsible thing he’s ever done.

Hawkeye: “What?! Cap, you cut me to the quick! Haven’t I always acted in a mature, responsible manner?”

She-Hulk: “Look who’s talking... the man whose proudest achievement is the invention of the water-balloon arrow!”

Provided She-Hulk isn’t just making stuff up, there’s some serious off-screen shenanigans that we didn’t get to see, possibly involving Hawkeye shooting water balloons at She-Hulk all day.

But... CLINT. YOU INVENTED AN ANTI-GRAVITY ARROW!

Why am I the only one who remembers that?

Thor shows up at the party next, back from his own solo adventures, and offers his own congratulations to Hawkeye.

Mockingbird is undergoing some culture shock here, as she’s astounded that Hawkeye calls Thor “Goldilocks.” And when Thor turns his Thor charm on her, and blesses their wedding, she’s rendered briefly speechless.

Its fun that we get this side of her. I think she was similarly blown away when they met Cap on the subway.

But even though she was a SHIELD agent and then a freelance superhero, she doesn’t seem to have a lot of exposure to your Avengers types so Hawkeye pulling her into those social circles is a lot of fun.

She’s going to get used to it though. I know that she Avenges herself in the future.

Also, look at Thor’s flagon of mead. Holy shit. Its as big as his whole torso.

Jarvis is really dedicated!

Over in a quiet corner of the party, Wanda tries to convince Vision to let Hank Pym take a look at him but Vision dismisses the idea.

Vison: “Please, Wanda, let’s not spoil this happy occasion! Surprise parties are all too rare, and few of them are party to as many surprises as this one!”

And instead of explaining what he means, he turns his hologram off.

Well, okay.

AH HA HE WAS REPAIRED AND JUST DIDN’T MENTION

For reasons of surprise.

What a whimsical turn for the Vision.

Aw, that panel of them kissing and everyone cheering is sweet. That’s how I like to remember them. Not, err, later developments.

(I also like Mockingbird being confused whether or not he’s still a hologram because of his intangibility)

Everyone congratulates Vision for being bipedal again.

Vision: “It’s good to be moving, Jan. But my recovery shouldn’t come as that big of a surprise. As I told you a few days ago, it was just a matter of time before I isolated the cause of my body’s motor dysfunctions -- and initiated the proper repair systems.”

But he tosses some sweet cred to Starfox, for hooking up to an alien supercomputer. It’s like matchmaking but with networks.

The surprise of his surprise recovery pales compared to his next surprise, as he announces (without consulting Wanda at all, geez) that its imperative that she and him stay with the Avengers full-time.

All I’m saying is communication is important, Vizh.

And maybe you should have brought this up with Wasp too? She is the chairwoman and as Cap points out, the team is already pretty packed, especially with Hawkeye and Thor back.

Vision: “Yes, the ‘chairman’s privilege’ limit! But you’re not the leader now, Cap... the Wasp is! And she’ll just have to change that limit -- or the membership roster -- to include Wanda and myself! We will be needed in the upcoming emergency!”

Kinda dropping a lot of surprises on this surprise party, Vision! I don’t know if you really get the concept wholly? You’re not supposed to save up all the surprises for this one day.

Also, Vision’s speech bubbles have changed. They’re still rounded rectangles but they’re not yellow anymore and the font is a bit italicized. Hm. Wonder if that means anything.

Anyway, Vision announces that while he was a tube boy, he detected two major fluctuations of Earth’s electromagnetic fields by some “unknown energy of near-infinite power.”

He’s secretly been working with Reed Richards on this and neither of them have been able to track down what this nonsense is. But until this malevolent mystery is uncovered, he and Wanda as two of the more powerful reservists must obviously be active Avengers.

But how does he know its malevolent if he hasn’t been able to uncover what it is? Deductive reasoning and intuitive presentiment!

Pffffft.

I think this might be my favorite recent punchline from this book.

But Vision has more than just bad vibes to be given a frighten by this upcoming ominousness!

Vision: “The energy I detected goes beyond the limits of any known to man! The power flux showed on our screens for a mere fraction of a second, and then disappeared without a single trace. That concerns me... And it should concern all of us! If we cannot discover the source of this energy, there could be catastrophic consequences!”

And to show how seriously he’s taking this, he makes this horrifying face.

He looks like he’s trying to eat Wasp.

I do not care for this. Either the specific panel or the overall idea of someone eating Wasp.

Anyway, Vision and Scarlet Witch goes off to check the super advanced equipment he installed in the monitor room without asking anyone. He’s doing that a lot lately.

Wasp is both annoyed that he went over her head and impressed with his initiative in doing so.

But she has other matters to attend and asks Thor and Cap(tain America) head down for a private meeting with her.

And now the party is kind of over!

Yeah, you ruined it, Vision! You put too many surprises on the surprise party! You could have saved some for later!

Vision and Scarlet Witch went off to the monitor room. Wasp, Cap(tain America), and Thor went off to have an executive meeting. And Hawkeye and Mockingbird slipped away from their own party not long after that!

Leaving Captain Marvel, She-Hulk, Starfox, and Jarvis to stand around awkwardly wondering where the party went. They didn’t even cut the cake yet!

Dammit Vision!

Hawkeye snuck out to the garden behind Avengers Mansion that’s been there all along. And Mockingbird followed to see what’s bugging him.

Hawkeye: “I’ve always loved this spot. Great tree, isn’t it? Ya know, it’s not easy to get an apple tree to grow this big in the city!”

But Mockingbird sees through that and asks what’s really his beef.

Hawkeye: “Aw, it’s just that I can see another membership shuffle in the works!”

Mockingbird: “So?”

Hawkeye: “So, I’m the one most likely to get bounced!”

I like the range of Hawkeye emotions here.

Hawkeye says that since he has a life (marriage) outside the Avengers now, he doesn’t mind so much being cut from the team. But if they’re going to be facing the latest and greatest menace of all times, he wants to face it with them!

Mockingbird: “That was pretty profound... for a guy who’s supposed to be a butt-head!”

Hawkeye: “Well, thank you, Mrs. Butt-head!”

Aww.

This is a fun bit too.

Mockingbird asks if Hawkeye wants to go inside and get some cake but he shoots an apple from the tree and offers Mockingbird one.

Pretty slick, Clint.

Over at the monitor room, Vision is really into monitoring whatever is upcoming. Super into it. So Wanda has to ask a question.

Scarlet Witch: “Darling... Are you sure you’re all right?”

Vision: “What sort of question is that?”

Scarlet Witch: “You’ve been acting so peculiar lately!”

Vision: “Wanda, how do you expect me to act? I’ve just recovered from spending what seemed like an eternity in a life support tube, able to move about only as a holographic image! Before that, my body was possessed by the dying sorcerer, Necrodamus. And that was almost immediately after I’d gone through the agony of losing an arm. Thankfully, the Inhuman scientists of Attilan were able to restore my limb. But you must admit we’ve both been through a score of trails these past few months! And now, I’ve detected something which could be the biggest menace we’ve ever faced! All things considered, is it really so surprising that I’m acting this way?”

Huuuuuh. I mean, he has a point. That’s a lot of shit in a very short time frame to endure.

This could very reasonably be a reaction to it all.

That’s a very unnerving smile though.

Over at the not-secret but private just Wasp, Thor, and Cap(tain America) meeting, Wasp, Thor, and Cap(tain America) are meeting.

Well, really, its more that Thor is recapping the tale of Beta Ray Bill for the other two. But we, the readers, just get an editor’s caption telling us to read Walter Simonson’s Thor (and I don’t need to be told twice) and Thor summing up to the salient point that Donald Blake is gone forever and is definitely never going to come back multiple times.

What Cap takes from this is ‘hey i hope that means you’re back on the team then!’ which Thor affirms.

Thor: “Aye, Captain America! Some of my finest hours have been as an Avenger. It would be the greatest honor to continue my service in your company... if you will have me!

But Wasp isn’t going to dump Thor from the roster!

Problem being, what the heck is she going to do with the roster? She doesn’t want to dump anyone off it, she doesn’t want to tell Vision to eff off, but she doesn’t want to lead an unwieldy team either. Six is a good number of Avengers!

I love Wasp’s note paper where she’s scrawled various roster ideas, clearly getting more and more frustrated with the exercise.

Cap suggests that maybe a temporary expansion would be the best move, if there even is a menace!

He’s somewhat doubtful of Vision’s story but wouldn’t you know it, as soon as he says that, the priority alarm goes off because Vision has detected the Ominous Energy Readings again.... IN CENTRAL PARK!

And lest anyone doubt Vision this time, an enormous and blinding flash lights up the Manhattan skies.

Cap: “I... believe you, Vision.”

Hah.

The Avengers head for Central Park with devices that Vision has created that will help them trace the energy but he could have saved the time.

There’s a big obvious structure that wasn’t there before. Odds are pretty good that that’s the anomaly.

Hmmm... Y’know, that structure looks familiar. As if I’ve seen it somewhere... But wheeeeeeeeeerre. I guess its a secret to everyone.

The sudden appearance of a large structure right after a massive flash isn’t even the weirdest thing going on. As Reluctant Science Guy Starfox waves around the detecting device, he realizes that the Ominous energy isn’t coming from the giant structure. It seems to be coming from everywhere. But it dips as you get closer to the structure.

Starfox posits that the energy is being focused on the ring from another location.

Curiouser and curioserer.

The Avengers poke around some more. Hawkeye calls attention to an arch built into the wall of the structure. It’s just real interesting. It’s super, incredibly interesting. Plus, the air is nice in the arch.

And it’s an arch. It looks like it’d be a doorway or tunnel to the middle of the structure but it doesn’t go anywhere.

Huh.

How fascinating.

She-Hulk, Cap(tain America), Captain Marvel, Wasp, and Thor join Hawkeye in the arch and agree that it’s a pretty interesting arch.

Perhaps this arch was made for them.

As soon as they join Hawkeye in it, there’s another blinding flash of light and those Avengers vanish in a curl of smoke.

Wow.

I can’t believe Hawkeye, She-Hulk, Captains America and Marvel, Wasp and Thor are dead.

Huh. And Wasp was just complaining about having too many Avengers!

Everyone is appropriately shocked by this, especially Vision because there were no energy emissions coming from the thing so it should have been inert.

Scarlet Witch and Starfox wonder whether the missing Avengers have been teleported somewhere, into some other story... or destroyed.

But before they can investigate the structure for clues, or see if it’ll strike again?, the whole thing vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

The plus side is that it makes Starfox lean toward ‘teleported’ which still doesn’t answer where the Avengers have been taken or who would do it.

If it’s the Collector again, I swear!

Here we go... Follow @essential-avengers​ because I thought I had more time! Oh geez, I don’t know how I’m going to handle this... Also, like and reblog because I like to think I do good work.

[knives-out20]

Discrepancy - Dean Corso x Male!OC - #3

Fandom: The Ninth Gate (1999)

Pairing: Ambrósio ‘Ambrose’ Fargas (OC) x Dean Corso

Warnings: Swearing, Faggotry, Spoilers for The Ninth Gate, Flirting, Homoerotism, Sexual phone stuff but not phone sex y’know, Ambrósio has no chill and knows no bounds y’all,

Notes: what is going ON y’all....lmao

Dean lay on the bed of his hotel room in Paris, talking to Ambrósio over the phone. "Ambrósio, how are you holding up?"

"I'm lying down if that answers your question, Dean" Ambrósio answered, definitely wearing a shit-eating grin.

Lying down, Dean thought. "What're you doing?"

"Oh, I dunno...talking to some shady book dealer over the telephone."

"I'm shady?" Dean chuckled. "First I'm out of place, and now I'm shady?"

"Yea, man, what the fuck is with your fucking gray hairs around your ears, you got premature graying or something?" Ambrósio inquired, squinting a bit.

"Have you just been thinking about the hairs around my ears lately?"

"I've been thinking of more than the hair around your ears, Dean."

"My facial hair?" Dean teased.

"More than your hair, man."

Dean grinned, "ever the flirt?"

"I try my best, Corso." Ambrósio rubbed his thigh, biting the edge of his lip.

"You been, uh...back at the house, as of late?"

Ambrósio shrugged. "Carmen let me go back to check it out with her really buff boyfriend, like, wrestler-type buff, Jeronimo's huge."

"Is he setting some high expectations up for me?"

Ambrósio decided to mess with Dean. He put on a puzzled tone, "who said they're for you?"

This caught Dean off-guard, like Ambrósio wanted it to. "Oh- uh, nothing, I just- all this had led me to assume-"

"Chill, man, calm down, I'm playing around" Ambrósio giggled. "It felt a bit...grim, but that's obvious, y'know? I mean, with...the reason why I'm staying with my friends in the first place."

"Yea."

A moment of silence struck the two before Ambrósio asked Dean another question. "Where are you right now?"

Dean's gaze darted around his hotel room. "In a hotel."

"Central?"

Dean slowly licked his lips in thought. "Uhh...Sure." He nodded, pulling out a slip of paper and a pen. "I'm staying at this Hotel Central place nearby, in this room. You can reach me there if you're specific."

"No, no. Out of the country." Dean corrected him.

Ambrósio scoffed, "yea, so where are you?"

"France. Ever been?"

"You offering?"

"Again?"

"I'm assuming that's a no."

Ambrósio broke out into a smile as he leaned back in his seat. "Does adoption not exist in America, or wherever?" He giggled. "I'm adopted, half-Pakistani."

"Ever been?"

"You offering?" Ambrósio joked.

"Don't lose hope" Dean smiled. "If I grow to like you enough, decide I need some sort of companionship in my life, I'll reach out."

"You make it seem like it'll be a privilege to me, to be able to hang out with you. It's quite the opposite."

"Oh, really?"

"Yea. It'll be a privilege to you, or rather anyone, to hang out with me, Ambrósio Fargas."

"That's true. Any new up-comings with your..uh...grandfather?"

"Mmh." Ambrósio hummed in a gloomy way. "Jeronimo has an uncle that's in the funeral business. He'll help with all the funeral stuff for my Avô."

"Wish I could come."

"It's like you want to be out of place, Dean, jeez" Ambrósio laughed.

Dean liked listening to Ambrósio's laughter, even more-so since he caused it. He assumes he just liked that he was able to make Ambrósio smile during this suddenly-dark time in his life, given the abrupt death of Victor and all.

Ambrósio and Dean got hit with another moment of comfortable silence. It seemed to be a running thing between the two men.

"You still lying down?"

"On my bed in Carmen's guest bedroom, yea. Why? You gonna ask me what I'm wearing?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you're still wearing that red shirt."

"I have a damn washing machine, Dean" Ambrósio licked his lips. "It's unbuttoned just like the first time you saw it."

"You wearing those gray pants, too? With the stripes?"

Ambrósio hummed his answer, meaning a 'no." "I'm wearin' some shorts, actually. Switching things up, today. What're you wearing, Corso?"

"Same things from the day you first saw me."

"Not one for changes, eh?" Ambrósio questioned. "Well, no. You probably are, given that Balkan's making you go here 'n' there around the globe for some old books 'n'...whatever. Y'know?"

"Yea," Dean nodded. "I'm really sorry, too, Ambrósio. About your grandfather. I never meant for this to happen to him, I didn't anticipate it like you did, but anticipation really has nothing to do with it." He explained. "I'm sorry."

"It's nothing. My Avô was old as hell anyway, Dean. He was bound to go sometime, but I just...not so soon. He was a good man."

"I'm sure he was, he seemed like it."

Ambrósio smiled. "You're a good man, too."

"Really?"

"Yea." Ambrósio nodded. "You, you- you didn't need to give me your hotel number that night you first came, you didn't need to come inside the house to call for me the other day. You didn't need to make sure I was okay, and gonna be okay. You didn't need to make sure I had some place to stay, or ask for Carmen's number in order to reach me. Hell, you don't need to be talking to me right now" he listed out, admittedly blushing a bit.

"But...I am."

"But you are, exactly. You added me into your little equation when you had the choice to leave me in your memories as Fargas' pretty, queer grandkid."

"'Pretty'?" Dean repeated.

"I'm fucking divine, Dean, it's in my name. Meanwhile, Dean means like...'valley.'"

"Would you describe me as a valley, Ambrose?"

"A valley of weird gray hairs, some round glasses, dark academia, and an angular face."

"You think my face is angular?"

"In a good way, pretty boy."

Dean smirked to himself, dragging his free hand slowly down the side of his face. "You think I'm pretty, too?"

"I thought the flirting made it obvious."

"I'm more than a pretty face, y'know" Dean sassed.

"Well, duh. I'm not shallow" Ambrósio scoffed. "I like when we talk, too, and not just for your voice-"

"You like my voice?"

"I've told you this before!"

Ambrósio chortled. "I don't only listen to Hendrix and Foreigner, Dean, Jesus Christ."

"Who else do you listen to?"

Ambrósio stepped back, towards his staircase. "I could listen to you. You sound like you could do a number on people if you sing."

Dean knowingly shook his head, looking down to hide his smile. "I don't sing, but...thanks."

Dean hummed in agreement. "You mentioned reciting poetry, when I met you."

"Yessir."

"What writers do you like?"

"Aw, damn, uh..." Ambrósio scratched his jaw in thought. "Baudelaire, definitely. And JP Marquand, Oscar Wilde, and Lord Byron. To name a few."

"Quite an array."

"You like?"

"I wouldn't shy away from the names. It's an impressive list."

"Thank you, I know." Ambrósio smiled, proud of himself.

"You still lying down?"

"Yea, what're you doing?"

"Lying down, on my hotel room's bed, talking to the dreamy, divine grandson of Victor Fargas." Dean flirted, stroking his beard.

Ambrósio poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "I am dreamy."

"You really are."

"So..."

"So?"

"So, we're just both lying down, on our beds, talking to each other over the telephone?"

"Why, would you rather be doing something else, with somebody else?" Dean joked.

Ambrósio raised his eyebrows. "I'd rather be doing something else that involves being on a bed, with you...Doing a far more scandalous activity than just talking."

Dean fought back a grin, looking over at the wall. "You're on quite the roll, huh?"

"Whether it be the romantic poets I indulge in, or my natural-born charm, the world may never know."

"I think it's just you, honestly."

"I'm touched." Ambrósio placed his free hand over his chest, where his heart lay underneath. "Oh, also- I figured out another song you remind me of."

"Really? Which?"

"Poison by Alice Cooper. I was gonna say his other song Feed My Frankenstein for the sake of the title and sexual themes, but there's lyrics in there regarding a body part that neither I nor you have...I'm assuming. There's nothing wrong with if you do, though. I have a guy friend with the body part, but he's saving up money to get rid of it."

Dean's eyebrows jumped. "You listen to Alice Cooper?"

"Sometimes, do you?"

"Not really my thing."

"Ah, yes, let me guess." Ambrósio raised a finger in thought. "You enjoy sitting back in leather armchairs, surrounded by dusty, possibly-expensive books and listening to the likes of Debussy, Chopin...I happen to like Tchaikovsky myself, if he's any your style."

Dean laughed softly. "No, not actually. I don't know what I listen to, I don't know if it could be classified as one thing."

"If you ever come back to Portugal, we could listen to my records together 'n' see what you're into" Ambrósio offered.

"Are you asking me out?" Dean joked.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm a gentleman, I'd buy you dinner, first." Ambrósio corrected him. "I'm just flirting your socks of for the time being." He told, sliding a hand through his dark hair; he closed his eyes and gave it a tug, trying to imagine that it was someone else, someone specific, tugging his hair in his bed.

"I'm not wearing any socks right now."

"Task complete." Ambrósio nodded slowly, sure of himself. His smile grew when he heard Dean's slight laugh through the phone.

"Dinner, huh?"

"Yea. Wine, music, candlelight, the whole shebang. Again, a gentleman."

"The sound of it does intrigue me."

"That's the goal" Ambrósio stared up at the ceiling. 

"Your activity from before, regarding a bed...What would that include?" Dean didn't know what he was doing, nor what he was hoping to accomplish, but liked the power it held over Ambrósio trying to flirt with him...Well, trying and succeeding, but he liked playing a hard-to-get guy.

"Oh, I'm not entirely sure." Ambrósio partially lied. "Winding, twisting, turning, gyrating, writhing...incessant writhing" he purred. "Perhaps some assorted debaucheries along the way."

"You can be so charming when you want something, eh, Ambrose?"

"Or someone," Ambrósio added. "And I can be so charming, full stop."

"Of course you can."

"Alright, how can I get to you, Dean?" Ambrósio asked him. "Tell me the rules." He whispered through the telephone, Dean stifling a shiver.

"Can I trust you?" Dean playfully rolled his eyes.

"Oh, my dearest Dean, have I given you any reason not to?"

"That's true."

Ambrósio's voice turned into another whisper, "you and I could be as thick as fuckin' thieves. Tell me the rules, Dean." His fingers stroked from his chin to his cheek, a faraway look on his face.

Dean could just imagine the look on Ambrósio's face as they spoke. "First, you gotta tell me if I can call you 'chico' yet."

"Beg for it, like you wanted to" Ambrósio reminded him, free hand trailing down his neck, down his torso.

Dean turned back around, seeing Ambrósio holding onto the opened gate. "What is it, chico? Can I call you ‘chico’?"

“If you ask nicely.”

Dean rolled his eyes knowingly, “save either one of us begging for something from the other for another time.” He finally flirted back. 

Dean held a knowing expression on his face. He should've expected this.

"No problem, Ambrose. Can I call you 'chico', yet?"

"Only if you beg like you wanted to." Ambrósio flirted.

Dean looked around in thought, "wouldn't you rather in person?"

"Would either one of us want to travel seventeen-ish hours for you to beg me for something so small in the midst of your big book mission?" Ambrósio rhetorically asked. "You wanna call me 'chico', you gotta do what you suggested. It was your words, not mine, big man."

Dean hummed. "Please?"

"'Please' what?"

Dean giggled quietly. "Please, can I call you 'chico'? Please?" He insisted, "please? Let me call you 'chico', Ambrósio, please."

Ambrósio had a smug look on his face, "you may."

"That was barely any begging."

"Let's save actual begging for some other time, when we're closer together. Okay, amor?"

"Okay, chico." 

"I also thought of another song."

"You're full of them for someone who supposedly couldn't think of any."

"Shut up," Ambrósio chuckled. "I Was Made For Loving You."

Dean licked his lips, "by Kiss?"

"You like Kiss?" Ambrósio looked surprised.

"I know Kiss, and I know the song you mentioned. How come I never remind you of any Jimi Hendrix songs?"

"That's not my problem" Ambrósio replied. "I Was Made For Loving You, Dean. Take it or leave it."

"Y'know what, Ambrósio?" Dean inquired. "Maybe you were."

"Not even 'maybe', Dean. I know I am." Ambrósio checked the time. "Listen, I gotta get going, a guy's gotta run. Talk soon?"

"Sure thing, chico."

"Bye, Dean. Stay safe."

"You too."

Ambrósio and Dean hung up their phones, Ambrósio's head spinning of round glasses, prominent cheekbones and smooth voices as he left the bedroom. Whereas Dean stayed where he was, rubbing his thighs with thoughts of dark, soulful eyes, inked-up torsos, and dreamy grandsons.

Both of them just hoped Dean's mission would end quick so the two could talk physically again, or maybe do a greater deal than talking.

[backtothestart02]

Hot to the Touch - 7/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Fake dating trope, anyone? Here it comes! (Only one chap left of this story!)

Commissioned by @andie1223

Also for @izzyllewis for our fics-for-icons arrangement.

...

Chapter 7 -

Another couple months passed, and with the change in season came a shift in Barry and Iris’ relationship. Barry never initiated these changes, because he was afraid he might lose her if he tried to change anything that might solidify them as more of a couple than an ongoing booty call. It was hard not to get excited though when she made changes.

He was quiet about his reaction to her suggestions every time, just taking it in stride as what she wanted to do. He was a complete doormat when it came to her, and maybe that was a bad thing, but so far he couldn’t see any downside to the way their dynamic was progressing.

First, it was little things. Like, Iris would suggest meeting up earlier in the day too on occasion. She’d say it was because she was extra horny that day, but in truth it wasn’t just that. She missed him. Barry was immediately okay with that, as she suspected he might be, and when he didn’t press for a relationship, she started bringing lunch with her to their afternoon trysts. They’d usually start getting it on halfway through the meal, but that was fine with both of them. They seemed stuck in the honeymoon phase of whatever relationship this was, and they found no problem with that.

Next, and this was kind of a big one, Iris started talking to Barry about his day. At first it was just to see if Becky had made another appearance, and if she should be doing something to combat whatever she was throwing at Barry. But after it became clear that Barry hadn’t had that many more interactions with his ex – all which were flops on Becky’s end – Iris found she genuinely liked knowing what the rest of his life was about other than just how good he could fuck her. Eventually, Barry returned the favor and started asking Iris about her days too. She found she liked the attention and fully opened herself up to gushing and venting about any and everything going on with her.

By the time Thanksgiving break arrived, they were so close and connected, it felt agonizing to be apart for even a weekend.

“So, what are your Thanksgiving plans?” Barry asked her, as she watched her button up her blouse from his recent face dive between her breasts.

Iris shrugged, smiling as she sensed his stare, almost tempted to unbutton her top again just to see the look on his face.

“Strained,” she admitted, to which Barry frowned.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, my mom and dad split up when I was 13. I told you that. My mom took my little brother, and my dad kept me. Things are tense between them when we see each other on the holidays already, but a few months ago my dad started dating again.”

“Ah. Let me guess. She’s coming to Thanksgiving.”

“Yep.”

“So, both your mom and your dad’s girlfriend will be in the same room?”

“Uh-huh. And my brother is very much a mama’s boy, so he probably won’t be on his best behavior. He’s had some anger issues in school due to the split. The fact that our dad chose to stay divorced and start dating again instead of trying to work things out with our mom hit him hard. And he takes it out on me because he’s afraid to take it out on our dad, afraid of what he’ll do.”

Barry frowned. “What might he do?”

“Well, my dad wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s been reaching out to Wally for years in fact, but my brother rejects him every time. I don’t know what he expects at this point.”

“Hmm. Sounds like you need a buffer.”

She smiled, swooning at his implied suggestion.

“Thanks, but I am the buffer.”

His brows furrowed in confusion.

“There’s a possibility Cecile, my dad’s girlfriend, will bring her daughter, Joanie. She’s about Wally’s age and obviously very protective of her mother. I don’t know what the situation is with the dad in their family, but if she brings her…” She shook her head, overwhelmed.

“Chaos.”

She laughed. “Yes, chaos, exactly.”

“Sounds like you need a distraction at the dinner table.”

Iris gnawed at her bottom lip.

“Well, I was thinking of asking Linda to join me, but then…her family goes up north for the holidays, and I don’t think she has a good excuse to not join them this year. Especially after she’s done so well academically this semester.”

“And where does your family have their holiday get-togethers?”

“At my dad’s house in Central City.” She paused, debating, then asked. “You?”

“My parents’ place in Central City.”

“Anyone difficult coming to yours?”

“Just my granddad probably. He adores my mother and loves that my dad is a doctor, but I don’t think he’s real impressed with my accomplishments so far. He thinks I can do so much more than be a CSI with the brain I’ve got, but I don’t really care. It’s what I want to do.”

Iris was immediately turned on by his confidence.

“You really don’t care?”

“Well, of course it’d be great to get his stamp of approval and have him be proud of me, but I don’t need it. My friends Cisco and Caitlin support me and so do my parents.”

“And so do I,” Iris chimed in, smiling brightly and warming Barry’s tummy.

“Iris West,” he propositioned, looking at her gravely. She was still smiling as if all was right in the world. “Will you be my fake girlfriend for Thanksgiving dinner?”

She thought she’d be mortified. She truly believed it would feel like he was pushing her into something she was not ready for and maybe never would be. But this was fake dating, and only for one night. Surely she could manage that. And it would make their prospective dinners easier to endure by far.

“Barry Allen, I would love to.”

That got her a kiss full on the lips, and she giggled helplessly.

The words I love you floated onto her tongue, but she stopped them before they pushed past her lips. It made her still though, and she fought to come up with an excuse so Barry wouldn’t find her sudden tension too odd or related to his recent request.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Uh…nothing. I just remembered something.”

His furrowed brows told her she better come up with something good, and fast.

“I…have to bake a pie.” She paused. “For Thanksgiving.” She paused again. “Sweet potato pie.”

“Sounds yummy. Can I help?”

She smiled, and they both relaxed again.

“And get a free taste before everyone else?” She shook her head. “Uh-uh. I don’t think so.”

He grinned and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“The only thing I want a free taste of is you.”

He lowered his head and nuzzled her face before swooping in for another kiss. Iris wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, moaning against the sweet pressure of his lips.

“You can have that any time,” she mumbled, and deepened the kiss, losing herself in him for a long while until they had to come up for air and go their separate ways.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, boyfriend.”

He grinned like an excited schoolboy caught in a candy store.

“See you tomorrow, girlfriend.”

She laughed at that, waved, and let herself out of the bookstore. A few minutes later, once she was out of sight, he left too.

Iris West was going to be his girlfriend - even if only for one night.

He liked the sound of that.

…

Barry and Iris didn’t meet that night at the bookstore, because they both needed to pack up and drive to their perspective families’ homes. A light snow started to fall within an hour, so the drive to the West and Allen houses took even longer.

Iris was grateful when she finally arrived at her dad’s. She parked in the driveway next to his car, gathered her purse and overnight bags and headed towards the house. She was proud of herself for wearing her fall boots, since the snow was starting to accumulate on the ground. She slipped on her gloves and hat before approaching the house and then knocked lightly on the wooden door. She had to do it a second time and started to worry because of it, but then the door swung open and a bright smile spread across the man before her.

“Baby girl.”

“Hey, Dad.”

She smiled, stepped up into the house and hugged him tightly.

“Oh, I haven’t seen you in ages.” He pulled back to take her in and then stepped aside. “You must be freezing. Come on in. I’ve started a fire in the fireplace. We’ll have you warmed up in no time.”

Shrugging out of her light jacket and other snow-covered items, Iris set her bags at the foot of the stairs and followed her dad into the living room. The place was usually a mess with the man was left there all by himself, but there was not a single speck in sight. The house was immaculate. It had been cleaned with vacuum, broom, and mop, dusted and organized. Iris hadn’t seen it so nice since before her mom moved out.

“Wow, Dad, this looks nice.”

“Thanks.”

He stopped and looked around, as if he hadn’t been responsible for the entire thing.

“I had some extra time on my hands and figured it would be nice for the holidays if my belongings were actually put away and not just stacked in the corner of every room.”

He chuckled lightly, and Iris joined him.

“You thought correct.”

“So, you want to get into something warm and we’ll watch a movie? I’m all set up for tomorrow, so we can just relax tonight.”

“Sounds good…”

“Why do I get the feeling you have something you’re not telling me?”

She laughed a little nervously.

“It’s not much, really. I just, um, I have a boyfriend now?”

His jaw dropped.

“And I was kinda hoping it’d be okay to bring him to dinner tomorrow?”

“When did this happen?” he asked, astonished. “I mean, of course putting one more seat at the table is no big deal, but I thought you would’ve told me you met someone. Especially after what happened with…”

She nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“I just thought you swore off all relationships for the indefinite future.”

She laughed. “I did, but…”

“This one got under your skin?” He smirked.

She felt herself gasp and realized just how true her dad’s words were.

“Something like that.”

He smiled. “Well, I can’t wait to meet him. What’s his name?”

“Barry,” she said. “Barry Allen.”

“And what’s his five-year plan?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Dad.” She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled.

“I’m kidding of course.” He paused for a moment before asking, “But what’s his major?”

She laughed. “Dad!”

“I can’t help it. Your dad wants to know! Will you tell him?”

She shook her head, her eyes alight with laughter.

“Fine, fine… Well, actually…” She frowned. “I don’t even know what his major is.” She laughed. “Something sciencey though. He wants to be a CSI.”

“Oh…very interesting. We don’t have enough of those around. He’d fit in real nicely at CCPD after he graduates.”

“Daaad.” She rolled her eyes again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He held up his hands in surrender. “No more future talk. Why don’t you get in some comfy clothes and I’ll put in a feel-good movie for us for when you get down. Dinner’s almost ready. We can eat that while we’re watching.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She got up and walked towards the stairs, then stopped and faced her dad who was busily searching for a specific movie in the cubby beneath the TV. “Thanks, Dad,” she said, and he lifted his head to look at her.

“For what?”

She shrugged. “For being you.”

He smiled, and she returned it, then headed up the stairs with her bags and put on something warm and comfy for the night ahead.

…

Barry yawned when he woke up in his childhood bed the next morning. He’d had a nice evening with his parents, watching home movies and finishing up some last-minute cleaning in the house. His parents were ecstatic to see him, and even more surprised about his announcement that he was bringing a girlfriend to the house for Thanksgiving dinner. They didn’t mind, of course, and they were excited to see who he was bringing, but he decided to keep it a secret until she showed up. He said he’d be going to her family’s Thanksgiving dinner first and would introduce her properly after that.

As the day waned on, Barry started to feel nervous about his “date” at Iris’. He’d waited months to be on an official date with her. And even if this was just pretend and her whole family would be present with them, it still felt very real.

He wondered then if they should’ve discussed how they met and decided to start dating, what they liked about each other, etc. They most definitely should not include sex as part of the story. On Thanksgiving of all times with other controversial things in play, especially at her dinner, that was simply out of the question.

He needed to call her and sort this out.

He pulled out his phone, selected her name in his contacts list and waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?” came a man’s deep voice, and suddenly he worried that she had a boyfriend back home who wanted to know who this ‘Barry’ was calling his girlfriend.

Chills erupted over him, as well as some slight anger. At himself and borderline at Iris. Why would she have a boyfriend and secretly be sneaking around with him for the past three months? It didn’t make sense. Of course it didn’t. What was he thinking? Why would he jump to that conclusion immediately?

“Dad!” He heard in the background on the phone. “Give it to me.”

The deep voice sounded fainter when Barry heard it again.

“I just want to talk to the young man. Find out his intentions!”

“Dad, no! Give it to me! Not on our- Daaaad!”

And that’s when Barry breathed a sigh of relief. It was her dad.

He smiled.

“Barry?” Iris’ voice came on. “Barry, are you still there?”

“I’m here.” He chuckled, smiling brightly.

“It’s not funny,” she said.

“Eh…it’s a little funny,” he said.

She rolled her eyes and smiled.

“So, what’s up?” she asked, walking into another room. “You aren’t cancelling on me, are you?”

“No, not at all!” he was quick to say. “I was just thinking….um…”

“What?”

“Maybe we should discuss our backstory?”

“Our backstory?” She sounded confused.

“You know, how we met, why we decided to start dating, some cute story the family will want to hear…”

“Oh. Right.”

By the sound of her voice, Barry sensed she hadn’t even thought of it.

“I just thought of it now.”

“Well, I think it’s simple enough.”

“It is?”

“Yeah. I mean, just take the sex out of the equation.”

His laugh was strained. “Meaning?”

She sighed. “Meaning, we met at a bookstore and hit it off at a party.”

“And for a cute story?”

She licked her lips. “Um… I sent a cute text to you in the middle of the open house?”

“A ‘cute’ text, huh?” He smirked.

“Stop!” She laughed. “They don’t need to know the details.”

He laughed harder.

“Barry Allen, I swear, if you don’t-”

But he couldn’t stop laughing. She waited until he was under control.

“Okay, okay, sorry.”

“It’s all right.” There was a smile in her voice. “So, see you later?”

“Five o’clock, sharp.”

“See you then.”

“Goodbye, Iris.”

“Bye, Barry.”

Click.

…

Iris sent Barry the address to her dad’s place half an hour before dinner started. She didn’t know what she expected, but Barry showing up fifteen minutes later with a golden-yellow bouquet of flowers for her certainly hadn’t been it.

“Barry, I take it?” Her dad asked, coming up behind Iris at the front door.

Barry’s eyes bulged at the size of the man, even though they were roughly the same height. He nodded and held out his hand to shake it.

“Mr. West.”

They shook hands.

“Call me Joe,” Iris’ dad said. “I like to keep things casual in this house, especially during the holidays.”

Barry grinned. “Joe.”

“Oh, come on in,” Iris said, grabbing Barry’s arm and pulling him into the house.

She showed him where to take off his shoes, and she took his coat to hang up in the closet at the end of the hall. She gave him a short tour of their home, and as politely as she could, introduced him to her mother, brother, her dad’s girlfriend, and her dad’s girlfriend’s daughter. There were a few other relatives too, but Barry wouldn’t remember their names or their significance later, so Iris only very quickly introduced them before circling back to the fireplace and standing there with Barry until dinner was ready.

“Is that everybody?” Barry joked.

“Everybody here,” Iris said, reaching for his hands to play with his fingers.

Barry lowered his voice and started to lean in.

“I’ve missed you, Iris.”

She caught her breath in her throat.

“It’s only been a day.”

“Still missed you,” he said, and pressed a kiss to her cheek to avoid being scolded.

Apparently it was too far even at that.

“Eww, Gross. PDA,” Wally said in a monotone voice. “Mom, Iris is making out with her boyfriend.”

Barry lifted his head and raised his eyebrows. Wally was playing his Gameboy in his hands, only faintly aware of how close they were and what had actually transpired.

Francine walked over and gave the two of them a look but seemed to understand that her son had exaggerated.

“Put the game away, Wally. We’re with family today.”

“Some family.” He rolled his eyes. But he got up and stuffed his game into his coat pocket in the hallway closet and proceeded to linger in the kitchen, looking for something to eat.

“Iris,” Francine started, but Iris cut in.

“It was a kiss on the cheek, mom. Brief and insignificant,” she said, even though her heart was still racing from the brush of his lips.

Francine nodded, pretty much convinced.

“And what are you majoring in, Barry?”

He smiled lazily, expecting the question.

“I want to be a CSI,” he said. “I like forensics.”

“Oh, very interesting.” She paused, and Barry knew it wasn’t as interesting to her as she had said. Still, it hardly mattered. Iris was beside him holding his hand. “How did you two meet?”

“At a bookstore,” Iris smoothly said. “We bumped into each other in the same section.”

“And what section was that?”

“Mystery-”

“Romance-”

Francine turned with curiosity to her daughter’s boyfriend who had offered up the latter genre.

“Romance, Barry?”

He blushed fiercely.

“Who doesn’t love a good love story?”

She smiled slowly. “Good answer.” Then she walked away.

Iris was on the verge of laughter when Barry finally looked back at her.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

She looped her arm through his and led him into the dining room. Dinner was just about ready.

…

The rest of the West Thanksgiving dinner went relatively smoothly. Barry and Iris shared the rest of their ‘couple story’ better than they had with Francine, and despite the obvious tension between other members of the family, it appeared that with a non-related member there, they were less inclined to start a full-out brawl in the middle of the dining room table.

Everyone approved of Iris’ last-minute sweet potato pie, and Barry in particular praised it highly.

When it was time for them to go in order to make it for at least part of Barry’s family’s Thanksgiving dinner, everyone was pleasant enough and wished them well as they headed out the door.

“Very good to meet you, Barry,” Joe said, and Barry reached out his hand for him to shake again, but Joe brought him in for a big bear hug instead. “Mind if I call you Bear, for short?”

Barry’s jaw dropped. It was the same name Iris herself had casually called him a time or two.

“Sure,” he said, a lazy smile on his face.

Joe’s grin stretched wide across his face.

“Bye, you two. I’ll see you later, Iris?”

“I’ll bring her back, I promise,” Barry confided, and Iris was just a tiny bit put out. She wanted some time with just the two of them together, but of course she understood. Barry probably wanted time with his family too.

They waved and got in Barry’s car. Within 15 minutes they were at his parents’ house. Only two other cars were in the driveway, one belonging to Barry’s parents and the other to his granddad. There was another vehicle parked across the street, but Barry and Iris didn’t pay it any mind until they walked into the house and found a familiar blonde chatting it up with Barry’s relatives.

“Becky.”

“Oh, Barry, you’re-”

Becky’s voice abruptly stopped. Immediately, Barry knew what had happened. Becky had invited herself over, claiming that she and Barry had gotten back together and had just decided to arrive separately. His parents hadn’t known any differently since he hadn’t given specifics.

Now he really wished he had.

“Who is this?” Barry’s dad asked when he saw Iris standing beside his son.

“This is Iris,” Barry forced himself to say. “My girlfriend.”

Barry’s whole family frowned and then turned to Becky, who was not pulling off being shocked as well as she was trying to.

“But Becky here said-” His granddad started.

“I haven’t seen Becky in two months,” Barry said, deciding to be frank. He was livid over what Becky had been trying to do. “At which point I made it clear to her I was with someone else and not interested in getting back together.”

Iris looked up at him and smiled softly. She’d been so upset at that initial meeting because she didn’t think she could envision herself dating him when that was exactly what Becky was offering. But now she realized her jealousy had been completely unwarranted. Barry really didn’t like Becky, and he really liked her.

Maybe she should consider…

“I think I better go,” Becky mumbled. The rest of the family said nothing as she gathered her things and headed out.

Barry was on the verge of confirming what a great idea that was, but he knew his mom would give him hell for being so bluntly mean, so he kept it to himself.

Once she was gone, the tension increased tenfold. That was until Iris approached the table and took a seat.

“You know, I thought I was stuffed from eating at my dad’s, but this food looks too delicious not to taste. May I have some?”

Barry’s mother brightened immediately.

“Yes, of course, dear. Let me get you a plate.”

Barry came and sat beside her. They held hands under the table and smiled at each other briefly before consuming some of his mother’s food.

To Barry’s great surprise, his granddad seemed more interested in Iris than in belittling his choice of a future career, which made the whole night much more enjoyable than any of them could’ve expected.

As his granddad was leaving about an hour later, he turned to Iris.

“Iris is a much prettier name than Becky,” he said, and lifted her hand to kiss the back of it. “It was good to meet you, Iris.”

Iris felt heat flood her cheeks.

“Th-Thank you, Sir.”

He smiled, nodded, then waved to the rest of the family and was on his way out.

Barry and Iris sat with his parents by their fireplace for a while longer before Iris mentioned that she should probably be heading back. Barry’s parents shared how much they enjoyed her company and how they hoped to see her again, and how sorry they were for Becky’s deceit in their absence.

Iris brushed it aside, smiled and hugged them both before heading out the door with Barry and riding with him back to her dad’s place.

“Well, tonight went well,” Barry said, once he had parked in the driveway.

“I thought so,” Iris chimed in. “Better than expected anyway.”

“Both our families like us.”

“Which is an important thing.” She chuckled.

He leaned his head back on his headrest.

“I’m so glad you were with me tonight, Iris – at my parents’ place. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten Becky to leave if I hadn’t had you with me as proof that she wasn’t actually my girlfriend.”

“Happy to be of service.” She smiled prettily. “And, you know, if you ever need me to fake being your girlfriend again for the sake of getting rid of Becky, I am at your disposal.”

He chuckled. “Thanks. Same for you…if you need a boyfriend at a family function for whatever reason.”

She grinned. “’Kay. Thanks.”

He stared deep into her eyes and cupped her face. Just as he started to lean in, Iris interjected.

“My dad-”

Barry lifted his head, but he couldn’t see Joe West in any window on the front of the house.

“I think we’re in the clear,” he said, grinning as he looked down at her.

Relieved that there’d been confirmation of no onlookers, Iris grabbed a hold of her fake boyfriend’s face and pulled it down to her, kissing him soundly.

“Oh, thank God.”

Barry moaned. “You can say that again.”

“It feels like ages since I’ve kissed you.”

“And to think we’ll have to wait any longer until-”

“It’ll just make the reunion all the more special.”

“Or you could sneak away and we could hook up at my parents’ house tomorrow.”

She pulled back, her eyes wide.

“Barry Allen!” She smacked his chest.

“What? They’ll both be away!”

Iris opened the door and stepped onto the pavement.

“I cannot believe you. In your parents’ house?”

“Unless you want to do it here?” he offered. “Your dad works tomorrow, doesn’t he?”

She laughed. “You are…unbelievable.”

“So…see you tomorrow?” he asked, stepping out of the car to get her answer.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Iris!”

She spun around.

“Maybe.”

He grinned wide.

“But not at our parents’ houses!”

He laughed.

“Okay, okay, you choose.”

She rolled her eyes again.

“Goodnight, Barry.”

His laugh lessened into a smile.

“Goodnight, Iris,” he said softly, then watched her walk into her dad’s house before getting back into the car and driving himself home.

...

*will be posted on AO3 and FFnet when beta’d.

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.10

...and Drink It with Gusto

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)   x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 3400

Summary: Steve’s a bit difficult (poor baby), not that anyone blames him. Sam Wilson makes a confession – sort of.

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and death, alcohol, unhealthy coping mechanism, sad sad Steeb

A/N: dropping the chapter early, because I won’t have time to post for a bit

Story masterlist

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The mission hadn’t been a shitshow, surprisingly enough, but the reports to Fury had been. Natasha had spent the rest of the day, whole night and a better portion of the next day at the SHIELD HQ, having to deal with everything, because Stark had quite literally fled. To be fair, he had at least taken care of Steve’s still unconscious and very much muscular (read ‘really fucking heavy’) form.

Tired and annoyed, Natasha finally landed with small jet at the Tower, making her way to her room, wishing nothing more but to shower and get some fucking sleep.

Of course, walking through the common room, she should have known she wouldn’t be that lucky.

She heard his icy yet somewhat cheery voice before she even saw him and it made her stop in her tracks, dreading facing him. She was too tired for his reproaches now.

“AH! There she is!”

Natasha took a deep breath, closing her eyes and mentally counting to three.

“Here’s ‘ur soulmate ex-pert!” Steve howled again, making her heart clench.

Black Widow was not a coward, but neither her nor Natasha liked dealing with feelings too directly – the jet was enough to get her fill for several years prior. She scanned the room before she would settle on him – and sure enough, she and Steve weren’t alone.

Bruce was standing indecisively by the door, torn and helpless expression on his face, his eyes one big question mark, asking Natasha how the hell he was supposed to deal with that.

Good question, Bruce, good question.

The smell of booze and Steve’s demeanour were unmistakable, but she silently asked anyway.

“Is he…?”

“Yeah. He… uhm… he found Thor’s stash,” the scientist answered her in equally hushed voice, inconspicuously pointing towards the counter where three flasks lay, emptied. Jesus.

Steve apparently heard and saw them anyway, because his voice bellowed again in reaction to their conversation. His words were slurred.

“Goooood friend Thor. Thou’ he t’ied to take my g’l. Nooot a g’d friend. Baaaad, bad friend.”

“Oh bozhe moy…” Natasha whispered under her breath and Steve turned to her, looking almost excited to see her.

Which didn’t mean he didn’t look like absolute shit. He had a t-shirt stained with the alcohol, his eyes red-rimmed, bruise-like dark circles under them as if he hadn’t slept for a year.

She hadn’t thought he could get worse than in the quinjet. Clearly, she was wrong.

“’tasha! Greeeeat ‘dvice you gave me,” he exclaimed, trying to rise from his spot on the couch where he had been half-lying like a dead fish casted ashore.

Natasha resisted the urge to massage her temples as the headache started to build. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach at the audible edge to his voice, the accusation glaring at her from his eyes.

“Steve…”

He finally stumbled to his feet and she noticed another flask secured in his right hand. He held it out as if he was pointing at her.

“Tried wat’ you s-said. Hurts,” he hiccupped, the sound blending with a sob. He cleaned his nose with the back of his hand hastily. “S-saw her grave. Fuck it hurts…  ‘dis thing’s good ‘ough.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, her mind racing. She didn’t need to call anyone for advice now. Her friend was shitfaced. The only thing she could do was to get him to bed and try not to antagonize him or trigger something worse than… whatever this was. She wasn’t sure if moving on from being snowed under work – voluntarily – was more or less healthy than drinking himself into oblivion. But she counted any change that wasn’t a step towards a suicide (possibly assisted by the last of Hydra goons) like a progress.

“Is he drunk?” Tony’s incredulous voice ringed from the doorway and Natasha didn’t even bother spinning on her heels to him, hearing him enter and close the distance between them as he stopped at her side. “Cap?”

Blood froze in Natasha’s veins and she was swift to call out, but it was too late. “No- don’t call-!”

So much for not triggering him and making it worse. She could see how he suddenly stood straighter as if he swallowed a wooden ruler, and an indefinable expression appeared on his face.

She gulped in anticipation of a storm.

“Cap!” he called out, mimicking Tony and the billionaire realized his mistake, judging by the silent dammit that left his lips. Steve raised the flask in a mock toast, turning around and nearly tipping over his feet. “Captain ‘merica! What a heeero! Cheers to him!” He took a long sip before continuing, his gestures animated. “Swin’ in, safe th’m all! Kill his g’l, why ‘ven care… hero, murd’r, potato, tomatho…” his voice slurred into a murmur, until he spotted a newcomer and came to life again. “Ah! Hey, Clint!”

Clint was quick to understand the situation and it took one glance at Natasha for them to agree what needed to be done. He approached Steve cautiously with his features emotionless.

“We should get you to bed-“

“Nope! No!” Steve howled instantly, taking several steps backwards to get out of Clint’s reach. His expression was dark, tears welling in his eyes. “Smell like h’r. Not ‘nymore. Hurts!” he sobbed, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, his figure swaying dangerously as he closed his eyes and lost the visual control of his balance. “Hurts!”

“Come on, Steve…” Clint coaxed him gently, attempting to close the distance between them again. His gaze flickered to Bruce and Tony and they took few steps towards Steve as well.

“Nope! Gotta-ta sssay sm’thin’!” Christ, Natasha had never seen him like this and she wanted to bleach both her eyes and ears. He pointed the flask at Clint resolutely. “You knew. You warn h’r. Fuck-fuck up. Shouldva told- I ain’t gettin’ killed. I kill h’r.”

“Steve…” Natasha approached him as well, grimacing when she saw the flash of emotion on Clint’s face.

Steve spun to her immediately, this time accusing her. “And you! Gooood job. Pushin’ us togthe’. You kill h’r too.”

“Hey! Watch it!” Tony snapped at him, running out of patience, but Natasha knew Steve didn’t quite mean it. Pushing them together wasn’t her fault – the fact she had tranquilized him was her sin and she was aware he had the right to be mad at her.

“Your friggin’ ‘stem! You too- n’t fly fast ’nough!“

“Steve, you’re wasted. You’re going to bed before you say more things you regret,” Bruce said calmly after Steve managed to finish his roll and blame another person.

Bruce speaking up gave the captain a pause and he looked like his brain froze. His brows knitted together and he nodded, another sob erupting from his throat, his inhale shaking his whole being as he crossed the distance to Bruce, murmuring.

“Regert. Her. My folt, no yours. Kill h’r. Miss her. Shouldva s-s-saved her. Pick h’r… love h’r. Hurts. Hurts s’much…”

Steve’s large frame enveloped Bruce, resting his whole impressive weight on him. The scientist was nearly tripped over – except a hint of green flushed his neck, Hulk coming to rescue before the other men and Natasha rushed to help. Steve went completely limp, the flask falling to the ground, the little liquid remaining in it spilling and staining the carpet. No one cared as they tried to support the supersoldier’s goo-like body, exchanging desperate glances.

“Well, that was… enlightening,” Tony summarized, his poor attempt at joke that not even he apparently believed in barely gaining any reaction.

Clint sighed. “Please, this is hardly any news. We knew he blamed himself.” He readjusted Steve’s arm he had slung around his shoulders and Tony’s right side of suit came to the rescue, taking most of the weight off from the billionaire. “I hate this, but I think he needs this.”

Natasha wasn’t so sure about that, but yeah, Steve definitely needed to start accepting the reality. It was probably a natural reaction to want to dull the pain with something else when work was off limits. She pressed her lips together as their whole grouped slowly made their way to Steve’s room.

“Let’s just get him to bed.”  

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Not many people could probably brag they had Black Widow’s number. Well, probably no one could, because if they told a living soul, they’d meet their end. So Sam Wilson didn’t brag. And he sure as hell didn’t call her first.

That said, he did not hesitate when she called him with location and time to meet, no greeting, no goodbye. Rude, but he’d take it. He had more than one reason, not that he would advertise it.

So there he was, sipping coffee from a take-away cup as he sat in Central Park with Black Widow, both of them having the best super-spy disguise; sunglasses and baseball caps.

The silence between them was getting awkward and Sam couldn’t take the tension anymore.

“Well, this is much more… civil than our last meeting,” he noted casually, hating to admit he was… nervous.

“I’m not gonna say sorry,” Ms.Romanoff hummed back, sipping her latté.

“Guess I wouldn’t expect that…”

He didn’t expect her to face him either but she did, a reminiscence of a sad smile gracing her lips. The warmth around his heart was familiar and not entirely unwelcomed. He found himself longing after seeing her whole face.

“I’m saying thank you, though.”

Huh.

“Didn’t expect that either,” he admitted and one corner of her lips rose higher in a smirk. Sam had a hunch she loved surprising people – or rather shocking them.  “How did it go?”

She huffed out a sound that could only mean frustration and Sam grimaced. Confrontation usually didn’t go very good, but this sounded awful.

“That well, huh?”

“No, no…” she shook her head, red curls swaying around her head elegantly. “He’s… an asshole. He fell asleep on a mission. In a cockpit. When he was piloting. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but God bless Stark’s inventions and auto-piloting,” she grunted and removed the cap of her cup before taking a long sip of her coffee.

She seemed to be gathering thoughts. Sam might not be able to see her eyes, but he did learn to read people. She didn’t like talking about feelings, but she was making an exception. Whether it was because of him, because of his job or because she wished to help her friend so badly, that remained a mystery. Either was pleasing though, the action itself intriguing Sam.

He had given her a lot of thought after their first unconventional meeting. He could not get her out of his head and for a good reason, of course.

He came to a conclusion that… despite her manners, she probably wasn’t a bad person. There were rumours about her past, but everyone had one. She was with the Avengers now, getting clean and the present and willingness to fix mistakes often mattered more than what had been done – especially when it came to a past like her own. Sam had made living by helping people dealing with their past actions and failures; judging her would be a hypocrisy and as far as he knew, he was a killer too. And if it came to it, he would punch, sliced or shot his way out again.

“It’s just… he’s… he’s really at the bottom,” she Natasha spoke softly, emotions lacing her voice. Regret. Compassion. Helplessness. Sam knew all those too well. “Seeing him going from one mission to another just to pass out in exhaustion was bad enough, because I knew it was wrong, but… seeing him drink himself into oblivion? One time only, but it was a nightmare. And seeing Steve doing nothing? Struggling to find a purpose, himself… that’s just…”

“It sucks. But he has a good friend in you. He needs time.”

“I know that, it’s… I wish there was someone hurting him so I could just punch them in their face and call it a day. But that one guy blew himself to hell and the others just… don’t really matter, getting them doesn’t do much help to Steve.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile softly as she said Captain’s name. It held a meaning – he was clearly dear to her and it went way beyond professional relationship. Not that the fact alone that she had shown up at Sam’s apartment the way she had wasn’t enough of an evidence. Not to mention her surprising openness.

“It’s a long way to recovery, Natasha.”

Her first name just slipped past his lips unwittingly, but he didn’t feel like apologizing. The informal space they found themselves in, the honest open conversation… first names suited it better. He was aware he sounded like he was speaking from experience on top of that, but it wasn’t like she didn’t know. She had done a thorough research on him.

As if she agreed with him feeling his surroundings and the atmosphere, she put away her glasses, her green eyes burning with honesty when she met his – he automatically lost the barrier too, because it felt unjust for her to be left… vulnerable like that.

“I’m truly sorry about poking at your past, Sam,”

Sam felt the last remains of hostility towards her resolve. That apology meant more than he had realized it would.

“Thanks. I get it, you know. Being worried for someone so much… he’s gonna be okay, eventually. Scarred, but okay.”

“He could be better than that…” she sighed, leaning onto the backrest of the bench tiredly.

“What was that?”

“When I confronted him on the plane… he told me he had another words,” she revealed hesitantly as if she wasn’t sure if it was her secret to tell.

Sam’s heart positively stopped. Was she telling the truth or was this a game? Did she know about his own too? He swallowed the panic when he saw her resigned gaze.

She wasn’t playing no game.

“Two soulmates. That’s rare,” he remarked, a lump growing in his throat. His palms started sweating and he hated it. Fortunately, Natasha didn’t seem to notice – or she politely ignored it, her voice dry and laced with a bit of irritation.

“He never wants to meet her.”

“That’s not rare.”

Sam would know. He had struggled with the same feeling, after all. He wanted to forget the world existed. He wanted to live peacefully and alone. It was probably no coincidence fate sent him Black freaking Widow as the one – if she was willing, Sam would not be alone. And definitely wouldn’t get ‘peace’.

If he was being truly honest with himself, he wouldn’t be able to say he minded.

“He thinks… he thinks he doesn’t deserve her or something.”

Sam sighed, mentally chuckling at the irony of fate once more. The Universe did have a messed up sense of humour, didn’t it?

“Because he thinks he blew his chance. Because he thinks that he will mess it up again and fail her. And it feels like being unfaithful,” he offered, venting his own feelings for the first time.

He had never told that to anyone, ashamed of the set of words sitting on his other collarbone, appearing shortly after Riley’s death. Why did he tell her of all people? He wanted to question his own actions, he barely knew the woman, but… there was a significant but, wasn’t there?

Her emerald eyes were searching on his face, recognition lighting them up. She fidgeted, something he hadn’t seen her do before and he was sure not many people had either. It was a privilege and while his heart started racing, seeing her nervous eased his own nerves the tinniest bit.

“…yeah. I guess. You… uhm, you dealt with someone like that too?” she asked, looking away, seemingly intrigued by something in the distance.

Sam didn’t buy it and swallowed loudly.

“Just one case in my whole carrier.”

“What did you tell them?” she queried gently, her shoulders tense.

Sam shrugged. He told himself a lot of things, but he wasn’t certain they were all presentable.

“Never figured it out. First, the meeting with his other soulmate was a bit unconventional. He kinda hated her,” he admitted, glancing at her with the corner of his eye. She gave almost an inconspicuous nod, her gaze casted down. She took it as a rejection, he realized. “Then he started thinking and realized she wasn’t too bad. He’s still struggling to make up his mind – whether he should try. Whether she would want to. She would be a catch though, no doubt,” he lighted it up, biting the inside of his cheek right after.

Was he really trying to flirt now?  

One corner of her lips rose in a smirk. “Somehow I doubt that. Sounds like a bitch.”

Sam wanted to chuckle at the joke, but then her eyes lifted to him and his heart just… stopped, the amused sound stuck in his throat. He had to clear it to be able to speak up, but it did nothing under the intensity of her gaze.

“Not to me. Not anymore.”

Natasha licked her lips – and Sam would lie if he claimed he did not mirror the motion instinctively – and finished her drink.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, huh? That must have been a pleasant surprise when it appeared,” she stated, a hint of amusement along with relief that the secret, the whatever that had been hanging between them, was finally addressed.

Sam snorted, not necessarily because he found his next statement funny.  

“Yeah and I bet growing up in Russia and have an English soulmark must have been walk in a park.”

Good, there was so much sarcasm in his voice he might even feel ashamed. But the redhead – his second soulmate, holy shit, it really happened – didn’t seem to be offended.

“Wow, this almost beats the way Steve met his and that was some story….”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Silence fell on them then, both of them unsure how to continue and where to go from here. They found each other – their other half, supposedly, but no one could tell the outcome.

She was an Avenger. Sam was a therapist, a veteran at ridiculously young age, because he had lost his partner. They had a perfect example of how wrong it could go, served on silver plate – it was how they had met for God’s sake. But once again – Sam would lie when saying he didn’t miss some of the adrenalin. He did. A lot, actually.

The reason he had left the field was his soulmate. Was there any better reason to get back in when the need would rise, than another soulmate?

“Do you want to explore this?” Sam broke the uncomfortable silence, lacking the courage to look at her expression. The tension in her shoulders he could almost feel told him enough. He didn’t want to see her rejection. Did he want to see her agreement though?

“Do you?” she hummed back, staring ahead just like him.

“That’s the million dollar question.”

Riley had been… his everything. But could he ignore something like this? Could he ignore the opportunity, a woman who was no doubt fabulous and he was already finding interesting and that apparently was matching his sense of humour? Did he believe in fate? Did he have the right to try again?

Deep down, Sam knew he had already made his mind about it. Now it only depended on her.

“But I keep telling everyone to move on,” he mused out loud, catching her gaze. “Try to live. Some do. Neither of them had the… advantage of having another soulmate if we can call it that.”

Small smile appeared on Natasha’s lips, new twinkle lighting up her eyes and Sam knew he had made the right decision, no matter the outcome.

He didn’t complain when she rose to her feet to clearly leave though – they had enough to deal with today, they needed more time to think of how to approach this.

“Okay. Okay then… You have my number. Call me,” she offered simply, saying goodbye only with a nod and spun on her heels.

“Oh, I will!”

She casted a flirty grin over her shoulder and Sam found himself smiling.

“Hey, you bowl?” he blurted out the first idea that came to his mind and this time she stopped in her tracks, her smile turning almost wolfish. It might have done a thing to his crotch.

“I do, but you can’t run crying when I beat you!” she smirked and gave him a wink, hips swaying as she left him behind.

His laughter sounded like a soundtrack to her catwalk.

Cheeky lady. Sam kinda liked her.  

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Part 11

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Thank you for reading! 

We’ll be leaving Stevie next time, coming back to our wayward sons and daughter (...that’s a spn reference, if any non-fan is confused). We’re getting closer, y’all!

[ramblefang]

TOH s2 ep2

Been a bit since I’ve done the first episode, but now I’m at this thing. Also, I guess I’m doing this liveblog style since I’ve already paused the episode a few times to think about things within the first four minutes. So I’ll just start over and start from there.

00:02 - Even on my first go around I noticed “Blight” on the sign to this factory and connected it to Amity’s family. Gives some extra meaning to the name.

00:30 - So the Blights sell “security”, but also suggest that they are really what amounts to an arms manufacturer. It might be why all of their potential customers are cloaked, hiding their identities. It may be preferable to not let it known that one is purchasing weapons and security, especially if anything here is less than ethical.

Oh, and I believe this is the first time we see the Blight parents. At most we saw them as silhouettes in flashback: when they forced Amity to stop being friends with Willow.

00:42 - An oracle, huh? That could make for some difficult challenges, assuming mother-Blight becomes a significant antagonist. Also, father-Blight looks really worn out; wonder how much say he has in business affairs.

02:00 - And of course, they’ve separated Amity from a friend before, so they’ll definitely be willing to do it again.

03:02 - As one would expect from what we know of their backstories, Lilith is upright and attentive while Eda is distracted. Having the mentor figure of the previous season suddenly be the “problem student that learns differently” would be quite unique—also relatable as I am someone who figured out I was ADHD as an adult.

03:14 - These three (or more, along with Luz’s friends) encountering more glyphs is something I’m excited about: all of them learning together instead of the adults generally knowing everything

03:20 - I figure these sisters would have some good ideas about where to find more glyphs. I’m not sure how to interpret the expression, but it might be a knowing look shared between them.

03:45 - Eda fumbling around and immediately trying whatever she thinks might work is probably just how she learns. Being told what not to do, trying to provide rigid structure to learning, is what she greatly dislikes about formal education. I say just let her make mistakes; it’s probably how she ended up becoming the greatest sorceress of The Burning Isles after all.

03:58 - King in charge? Oh no. (Oh yes!)

04:14 - Okay, to be fair to Luz, apparently she did properly understand that Eda was impatient to get back to her former glory. Something that Eda might have to come to terms with, over the course of the season (and beyond) is that she may never reach those heights again. Just pure speculation on what sorts of themes the show may be exploring

04:25 - Ah, so that’s where Lilith is likely to be wrong about things as well: being so attached to doing things “perfectly” and “correctly”. It’ll probably be that their approaches to learning need to mix: not exactly “meet in the middle” because that implies abandoning their respective extremes. Or at the very least, they can come to terms about how they learn differently from one another

04:36 - I just noticed Lilith is wearing a blouse of a battery icon on low charge. No doubt something that Eda scavenged in the human world, but I wonder if there’s any symbolism to it. Guess there’s how these sisters are depowered, but maybe there’s something more unique for Lilith to be wearing it?

Also, it’s just funny.

05:24 - Ah. A pie made of fairies, rather than a pie might by fairies [or as fairies would make it]. Topped with an additional pun even! Fairy [Very] fresh indeed

05:31 - Also cute Amity blush

05:50 - The Blight parents are wasting no time I see

06:00 - Yeah, father Blight looking like he has ADHD or some form of neurodivergency at least. Curious how he will fit into the narrative, because mother Blight seems to be the more clear antagonist here.

06:15 - Comes off as a joke in the moment, but I wonder if he said “executed” out of force of habit

06:25 - Damn, the way that Amity’s fire was immediately quenched.

08:00 - Concerned that Luz is only being seen as a rare commodity, and that this apparent cordiality, along with these circumstances, are just meant to ensnare her. Not to say that Luz was their main goal, I’m sure that punishing Amity was what they came for, but they probably recognize Luz as a unique opportunity

08:47 - So the magic Eda is used to is literally a lot more fluid, accommodating to her creativity. The glyphs are fundamentally more rigid, potentially necessitating Eda to learn something from her sister.

09:06 - Yeah, Eda is used to being the best. This seems like it’ll be central to some big problems in the future; Eda being tempted by a shortcut to power or something maybe.

09:25 - Huh, Principal Bump is surprisingly fond of these troublemakers.

11:00 - Oh gosh, Luz going to see the Blight parents (Alador and Odalia apparently) on her own is the most dangerous outcome.

11:30 - Ooo, Eda has made some progress with making a custom glyph. Potentially very dangerous, but also exciting.

12:50 - Not looking as bad as I had feared thus far, but helping to demo security automatons and weapons is dangerous in its own right. Stopping to think about things, I guess Luz being human has never been that big of a deal. Though, maybe her performance here will spark unsavory interest in her

13:14 - Team Fortress 2 reference? Almost vaguely shaped like the sticky bomb launcher. Could easily be a coincidence.

13:38 - Oh! Willow has two dads!? Did we already know that from season 1? I certainly don’t recall it. Very cool regardless.

14:20 - My immediate thought is to try doing all of it at once. Though, I guess Willow’s sneaky approach isn’t exactly compatible with Amity’s.

14:51 - A good ol’ crossbow with non-functioning limbs just to bother anyone that notices

16:05 - Yeah okay, so Odalia planned for this to be Luz’s execution.

16:31 - Wonder what kinds of gasses would be piped in a magical arms production facility. Quite possible that it’s just for visual effect, but still makes me curious from a worldbuilding perspective

16:58 - “My Luz” you say Amity? I like it.

18:30 - You go Amity!

19:37 - Hmm, Alador seems to have more control than initially presented. In context, it suggests that he might be someone to be trusted, yet he still is fine with pushing Amity for “success”. He certainly doesn’t show any interest in Amity making friends, which only happened to be beneficial here.

And he’s immediately back to being an easily distracted goof. Maybe it’s not a persona per se, but I can imagine him being far more threatening than this lets on. We already know for a fact that he’s competent at building powerful abominations if nothing else.

21:18 - Of course the state is purchasing all of the weapons.