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inkburnt · 2 years

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I’m Not Scared

One-shot inspired by a creepy but fantastic little audio clip made by my bestie @featherburnt. The brain worms were ravenous. I think this is going to be the first of many I write, taking place in the Silent Hill-like setting of a perpetually work-in-progress collab fic we gush madly about. Posting it here first before I decide if it should go on AO3 at all. :x Enjoy some hopeless boys.

Fandom: Devil May Cry Teen–Mature // M/M // Words: 3,438 Characters: V, Garrett (male OC belonging to @featherburnt) Relationship: V/Garrett Warnings & tags: V is not part of Vergil, V’s name is Vitale, horror themes, ghost towns, fear Ship & series: Love and Harmony Combine

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"Garrett, come here."

The violet glow of the cane threw a small but appreciable light over the spines of binders he couldn't really read. But these were collections of records given the dates written and the uniformity of the labels that bore the same handwriting. Coming to a dress shop was as useless an effort as it was attempting to read a language he did not know, but still he pulled a binder from its nook; and dust that had settled for decades was suddenly disturbed, and thickly took to the air only for V to blow it away from his face. He grimaced when he succeeded in causing it to whirl largely in place. With his mate joining his side as reliably as always, he passed the thing to Garrett's hands. "There are more just like this," he explained, "and the dates descend." He held his cane above the binder for its light. V watched him turn it over, open it, skim through the pages.

"It's just for bookkeeping," Garrett revealed, unimpressed, "nothing useful."

"This shop must have been in business for quite a while." V wasn't any more interested in that than Garrett was, as they both had been searching for information beyond profits and losses. The kind that may give them some clue. Mannequins left standing and dressed were the last remaining evidence of an era passed, its fashions outdated. A relic, this place, and something that better deserved to be preserved and admired by posterity than to sit here forgotten and wasting away. V found fashion magazines and catalogs laid out over a table and spared the time to flip through some, and he was ever gentle in his handling of old things as he slowly turned page after page. On fading photographs, the violet light cast an unusual tinge.

He did not enjoy being here: the dress shop was one of several sites they had come to, and each one worsened V's opinion of Goussainville Vieux-Pays on the whole. The plane crash had not been responsible for the decline in air and atmosphere, the deterioration of things and areas away from the site that had almost appeared organic, bodily. Decay was an odor V could not put out of his olfactory nerve since he had set foot here. The sounds of modern planes passing overhead were nonexistent—impossible, when a large airport operated just outside the village. Ghost towns were not this dead. Garrett had done a fine job of finding this one. Maybe too good a job.

Dulled footsteps and flipping pages were the only sounds heard for what felt like miles. V knew the former came from somewhere behind him. "If only we could find that boy. He knows more than he's told us. I feel we were wrong to let him slip through our fingers. There is something unnatural here." He thought it was his fault the teenager had gotten away from them. The only living soul encountered since setting foot in the village, and there was no way to know where to find him now. V had begun doubting what he'd seen and heard when they first crossed paths, fearing tricks of the mind—or tricks of the dead. But wasn't that paranoia on its face? Oh, this place was beginning to take its toll.

That there were dead here was no question; that they haunted this land was certain; that they reached out to V was, unfortunately, a fact. At the very least, he could gather that they were sorrowful but refused to take it out on him. Still, to assume that whatever was wrong with the village was due to their presence would be an impulse borne of ignorance. V could honestly say nothing had been further from the case. Ghosts were remnants of human life, human in their own way, and though the village was brought into being by human hands and inhabited by human lives, the very last vestiges of humanity had long abandoned it, its ghosts bound here by supernatural laws and their own melancholy. They affected little to nothing within the village.

Here, there was something invasive and dark, eclipsing all the rest.

In all this silence, V felt almost unwelcome. He poked and prodded where he had no right, and if he were any more mad he may claim the place was rejecting him for that. But pages turned, the light of his cane was revived when it died, and his nerves fared no better now than they had on first hearing the boy's warning. On alert, high alert, and he had four demons at his side to pounce the second the alarm went off.

The waste in pointlessly browsing fashion catalogs made itself apparent when V grew bored with it, but a part of him, and a large part in fact, preferred this to facing the soupy, impenetrable fog that lingered beyond these walls. It had been thinner earlier in the day, or so he imagined. The Eiffel Tower had been visible beyond the village borders, hazily yet unmistakably before the horizon. But in recent hours, with the descent of the sun, he thought he’d lost sight of it entirely. He needed only to glance out the windows to know how hopeless an endeavor it would be to navigate the ruined streets under all the gray cover. So he flipped more pages, exhaled his boredom—a clever mask for nerves. Leave it to his mate to come to his rescue, who had an arm to bring around V's waist. “Garrett, I’m fine.” It should have gone a ways in comforting him, but he was put off entirely by this village saturated with grief and an element that was sinister. Did it show that plainly, to Garrett, even in the dark? V thought he’d been masking it better than that. It did not help matters to sense that what should have been warm flesh was hard plastic pressing into his right hip.

V looked to his left to see Garrett, but he jumped out of his skin when he didn't see him and gasped in something like abject terror. In pulling to the side, the arm on him caught tighter and it sent V into a primal fit of panic; and his cane landed desperate blows on the thing to beat it away, and he was freed only for his back to meet something heavy when nothing had been there before. He whipped around to lambaste the second horror and had nothing short of a panicked yell for his fate. A warm hand caught his arm before he could find his freedom by way of a serious beating, and in his surprise he released the cane from his useless hand, its clatter ignored but its violet light missed in the dark.

He feared for his life, hissed his rejection of the thing that seized him, he knew nothing but the rush of blood in his ears and the eyes and nose and mouth that sized him up. And he almost instantly reeled as he stood rigid, completely unaware of the tears in his wide, fearful eyes. He came within an inch of whaling on Garrett.

Resistance coming from muscles turning to jelly was only a product of instinct. Shaking lips parted but no sound escaped. V heard a voice call his name, or he heard something, anyway. His mind was in severe disarray and it barred all reasonable thought. Large, green eyes stared too long at a face he wasn’t sure he remembered—until, in the seconds that passed, he realized no harm or horror was coming. His name was repeated, a human arm came about his back, and calming words that had been filtering into his brain were finally beginning to hold sway. It proved enough. He wouldn't have spun around to look behind him for that thing that had grabbed him earlier if he wasn't assured of the man arresting him now. That was Garrett, thank heaven. V remembered his grip, the sound of his worry, the faintest trace of smoke, of course he did. This small confidence was enough to let V lean into him, but very much in a state of flight as his eyes kept wide and trained on the darkness behind him, expecting a horror to drag him back. Comforting assurances were heard above his ears, barely above the sounds of his own haggard breathing. And with them, an orange glow in the murk, a flame held out. Like so much the child who hid their head beneath the covers, V wanted to close his eyes and will it all away; but he heard nothing monstrous, saw nothing alive, felt stillness all around. Dying violet light mixed with smearing tears obscured his sight, but he allowed Garrett's protective pull that brought them even closer. In darkness was danger, so V could only think to grab onto the thing that gave him security.

"V, it’s just a mannequin."

Garrett had comforting strokes for his back, but as much as V felt like a fool, he also thought his mate was wrong. No doubt about what he saw now by fire light, but that gave him no sizable comfort. The fiberglass, lifeless human shape before his eyes was in fact fiberglass and lifeless, and displayed no fashion, and somehow remained standing after receiving blows V was certain should have dropped the thing to the floor. He could not have been mistaken about what sent him into a panic. He was touched with intelligence. That scared him. "I felt it move. It touched me.”

"You could have bumped it."

"No. Nothing was around me." The uncanny likeness to a human face, with painted eyes and lips, inspired more discomfort than a clothes rack, a tree branch, or a garbage can ever could. He hated the human in the nonhuman. Studying the mannequin’s face and form only discouraged him from looking at it any longer, so he turned away and shut his eyes now that he knew no beast or ghoul would try to take him from here. If he had been in danger, his familiars would have known the way they always did, and they would have peeled from his body to assail the thing that aimed to bring him harm—and for that, he knew they needed no permission. Did that suggest his reaction was baseless? That he was wrong for privately accusing his mate of exercising rationale? None of that held any water so long as he remembered what he had felt, assumed what that meant to him, and he was aware that the entity at fault remained among them. No comfort in any one of those thoughts. What could he do but bring his face to Garrett's neck, and try to contain the collapse of his nerves while he had his moment. He only breathed while Garrett pulled him closer with the two arms necessary to soothe him.

How could something so stupid scare him so badly? There had always been worse, and he laughed in its face when his odds were poorer. Oh, the humiliation and all of its implications, and he loathed it.

Part of cowering went into recovering composure. At least Garrett would never tease him over things like this, and he was ever sincere in the way he would soothe his mate and offer every protection. Until now, V hadn't realized that his hands were like hooked talons, grasping at Garrett's jacket like they belonged to a threatened animal. But there was life in lifelessness, or at least a level of sentience that knew what it was doing. There was intent in inanimate limbs, a defined goal, a reason for movement and for touching V. If it was only to frighten him, to push him out of the shop, it may yet be satisfied. The desire to stay here had evaporated in an instant.

Right now, Garrett’s preoccupation lied with comforting him, so while he allowed V his time to gather his wits, massaging his back was the second-best thing Garrett could do. He pressed his lips to the top of V’s head for a subtle peck. “It’s okay. I gotcha.” The shame of it was that Garrett hadn’t been there the moment V sprang from the danger. He’d only caught the aftermath, and even then, he couldn’t see what V was seeing: he couldn’t see the harm the mannequin posed to him, logically speaking, and given that it was dark inside the shop... But who was he to doubt in V? The oddest things did tend to happen around the warlock, which was unfortunate half of the time, and only helped play at Garrett’s heartstrings. His words were above whispers, soft and grounding. “You got nothing to be afraid of anymore.” Though it irked him that he couldn’t have, perhaps, paid closer attention and stopped this before it started, at least he’d been there at all—albeit at some risk of having himself hurt by V’s cane. He’d felt it directly to the face one or two times, and neither were actually pleasant.

The warlock in his arms grumbled against his throat. “I’m not scared.”

“V...”

As if on command, he leaned back to look at Garrett. Even in the unaltered darkness, their eyes had found one another. And there was a furrow to V’s brows, the mark of stubborn pride. “I was startled,” he reasoned, as if that had made any significant difference.

The single flame ignited, held at the pair’s side for the comfort found in light amid darkness. “Swee’heart, there’s no shame in being scared, especially for good reason.”

Garrett was only meaning to comfort him, but V didn’t like to be seen through as if a strip of cellophane. But the wetness to his eyes likely didn’t help matters, and he’d forgotten about it until now, when he tipped his head down and brought a finger to his eyes to wipe the lingering tears away. How childish of him, and he hated that too; though perhaps not as ardently as he hated the sudden heat brought to his face as he guessed that embarrassment made itself manifest. “I cannot be afraid of a mannequin.”

“V, you yelled. And you were whiter than a sheet. You scared me.”

“It was a bad surprise, and I am not scared now.”

“Okay, you weren’t,” Garrett finally relented, only sympathetic where he should have considered being impatient instead. But he wasn’t that kind of man; at least, not that kind of mate. To V. “You’re not scared, pretty boy. I believe you.” He believed in the same way he pretended not to see the shimmer in wet eyes, or the pink in pale cheeks; but at least it went a ways in giving V some relief. The sweet thing tried smiling for him regardless, bringing a hand up to pat him lightly on the cheek.

Garrett shouldn’t have to see this, no matter that V had his utmost respect or that he would always mean well. Some things simply had to be kept private, there was some shame one simply had to live with. With a spare hand, he persuaded Garrett’s away from his face. In drying his tears, V brushed off the remnants of his panic and his humiliation, heart rate be damned. He returned his gaze to his husband’s before it was missed, with new resolve summoned to the surface of peridot pools. It was forced, it was a fraction, but better that than enduring fright. He’d at least banished the rosiness from his face. The demon’s flame warmed the cool air, its orange glow revealing a little more detail than V wanted it to—but he was grateful for that anyway, as he was for the faithful anchor on his back: Garrett’s hand again.

He exhaled a breath as he bent over to collect his cane, and held it by its handle not because he needed its aid, but because he didn’t want it being yanked by some unseen force hidden in the darkness. He could do well without more contact. And another scare. “Something is here, and I think we’d be wise to take its hint,” he suggested once straightened. In his voice was an element of haste, his usual cool having taken a backseat to a more primal urge. Even with what he anticipated to encounter out in the fog, he was immediately convinced that out of doors would beat whatever was inside this dress shop by a mile. In spite of overarching discomfort, eye contact with Garrett was a little easier now that V wasn’t the center of attention. Still, he did not distance himself from his mate. He knew that the mannequin was there, it and its friends. Garrett didn’t argue him his point, but agreed with it and took V’s free hand without offering when steps toward the exit were taken.

To him, it hardly mattered how he would lie to preserve V’s feelings. What mattered was how he would protect him and preserve his life. Garrett would not dare to let him walk out of here without a proverbial but physical lifeline, and the connection that came from joined hands was one often sought after. V didn’t fight it when their fingers laced. V didn’t have to be honest with him, either. Body language spoke all.

The poor thing was tense, but he was trying not to be. In his experience, it wasn’t often that inanimate things would come to life and reach out to him. The surprise in that, and in feeling a limb on his body in such a fashion that triggered souring reminders of long-held personal fears, worked as one to unsettle him so completely that he would want to be anywhere but here, and it succeeded. Garrett was sanctuary, so to him V stayed close. The twosome left the past very well in the past and the door to close slowly behind them. They hadn’t heard it, and they hadn’t looked to make certain. Outside, the world was gray and dark, and cold, and a new sensation of oppression lingered like low cloud cover, suspended above their heads. The fog sat thickly, obscuring visibility to the point that nothing beyond a foot in front of them could be made out with detail. The setting of the sun changed things; far be it from V to have ever expected a change for the better.

“We’d be better off if we got outta here.”

The urge to agree was powerful, but it wasn’t defeating. Rather than look in the rough direction they’d come from, V stared into the fog that went on with no apparent end, deeper inside the village. He wondered about that boy from before, worried slightly over his safety if he had somehow lived in Goussainville Vieux-Pays. This place was no place for anyone still alive, much less for children and the ill-equipped. It wouldn’t have been right to leave him here, but it was the desire to discover the root of what was so twisted about the village, and potentially set it right, that motivated V to want to press on. He’d experienced a lot in his lifetime as far as the diabolical went, and he knew that, in general, it was best to nip a problem in the bud before it spread, grew, evolved, bloomed. Perhaps it was a stretch to assume already that devilry was at play, but if not that, then what else? His hand squeezed around Garrett’s, tense for half a second like a pulse, before relaxing. A silent signal to him that freedom would be a way off yet.

“You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.” Words spoken aloud, but they were meant for himself to hear. An unfortunate reflection on V’s modus operandi, his usual attitude toward a question that begged answering, a problem that begged fixing. There was the need to remind himself of that, as if he’d had a duty to fulfill by instinct alone. It is never enough until it’s too much, and he doesn’t tend to know that until he’s over the edge and wishing he’d never tipped over it in the first place. Garrett had to learn that about him the hard way, but at least they always lived to tell about it. A tug of hands, a look of sorry dissent, and though there was initial resistance from his mate, V began on his way in loving company, in search of the supposed problem, the answer to the burning question.

What is happening here?

#devil may cry #dmc fanfiction #dmc5 #dmc5 v #dmc v #v dmc5 #v dmc #v x oc #V is not Vergil #featherburnt #universe: Love and Harmony Combine #fic: The Cult of Moloch #I'm gonna start posting about this fic because it's tasty.#I think if I write more one-shots for it I'll post them all as a collection on AO3. Since they're pretty small.#ANYWAY. EAT.

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

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On the Hunt

Author: @hutchhitched

Prompt 39: Katniss has been bumping into the same stranger (Peeta) for months. When they get stuck in an unfortunate situation together, she decides to be the first to say hello. [submitted by @eiramrelyat / @taylerwrites]

Ratings/Warnings: T

The first time Katniss sees him, he takes her breath away. It’s from afar. He probably doesn’t even catch a glimpse of her, but her whole world tilts off its axis.

She’s not sure why he stands out to her. There’s nothing particularly unique about him. He’s not short or tall or big or small. He’s not drop-dead gorgeous or ugly like a troll. He doesn’t move like an athlete or sparkle with the magic of a performer. He appears normal in every sense of the word, but that doesn’t mean she can’t see how special he really is. At least she thinks he might be—if she had a chance to actually speak to him.

That doesn’t happen, though. She’s too far away when she sees him picking up a loaf of bread, and she can’t seem to move once he’s left her line of sight. She stays frozen in the freezer section (the irony!) for several minutes. Hopefully, everyone else thinks she’s considering her options in breakfast burritos, but she’s actually involved in an out of body experience that follows the young man from the back of the store to the registers, out the door, and into the parking lot where he must load his groceries into his car and drive away. His life is no different, but hers will never be the same.

It has to be because she’s lonely. It’s been a very long time since she’s been in a relationship. In fact, it’s been so long since she’s kissed a man, she kind of wonders if she’s forgotten how to do it. Katniss has never been that popular, but she’s enjoyed her fair share of attention. She tries really hard not to spiral out in the freezer section, but Christ on a cracker! Something about that specimen of manhood has made her question her life’s choices. Why hasn’t she run into him before now? Clearly, she’s been living wrong.

Except, she hasn’t. She’s done absolutely everything she knows to do to be a good person. She supports her little sister and sends money to her mother who needs every speck of help she can get. She has a best friend who’s been by her side since they both lost their fathers when they were barely teenagers. She helps out at a shelter and donates money to the food bank because she knows way too well how hunger can impact a person’s life. In other words, there’s no reason her weekly grocery trip should result in an upheaval to her world. It’s simply not fair, and she plans to file a complaint to who it is that runs fate and destiny. She has a bone to pick.

Somehow, she finds everything on her list and heads to the front of the store. When she gets there, she unloads her groceries and watches as the cashier scans each item. Digging into her wallet, she’s stunned to find she only has a twenty and the total keeps rising. Mortified, she watches as the number climbs to $34.15.

“I don’t have… I mean, can you take off the…”

Trying to figure out what she can live without until her next paycheck, she surveys the food and toiletries. Almost in tears, she stammers for a few seconds before the cashier speaks.

“Don’t worry. Another patron paid it forward. He left a twenty and asked that I use it if anyone needed help. Looks like you could use some.”

“I— I couldn’t. It’s not right.”

“The guy seemed pretty adamant that I only offer it to someone who could use a break. It seems like that could be you today.”

Katniss nodded slowly. “Do you have any idea who it is? I’d like to thank them.”

The cashier shook her head. “Young guy. Stocky, medium height, ashy blonde hair, blue eyes. Very polite. Named Peter, I think. Something like that.”

It’s got to be him. The description’s too similar to be a coincidence. It seems the guy that froze her in place with his looks is as kind and compassionate as he is special. Now, he’s even more intimidating.

She nods her thanks and takes the change and her purchases. The five in her pocket gives her a little joy, but the feeling of not having money still bothers her. Maybe it’s time to get a credit card. She’s been warned off them for so long that she never applied for one, but now, it might be something she should do. Maybe. It makes her nervous to think she could get in financial trouble with it. She’s been poor her entire life. It might be too tempting to resist.

When she makes it back to her apartment, her attempt to unpack her groceries is interrupted frequently by long pauses in which she fantasizes about finding the guy who’s rocked her world and given her daydreams about all the ways she needs to thank him (appropriately and not so much) for the rest of her life. It’s not unrealistic at all. Totally doable, she decides. After all, how hard can it be to find him again? They live in the same town.

****

The answer to that question is that it’s very hard. Difficult isn’t even the word to describe the problem she has in trying to find the Boy With the Bread, which is what she calls him even though he’s definitely an adult. The person she saw from afar was all man if the stretch of his shirt across broad shoulders was any indication. Still, the alliteration makes her smile, so she continues to refer to him as such.

It shouldn’t take so long, but it does. Months pass, and she wonders if she’s made it all up and imagined the creature that changed her life. She keeps her eyes open in public, scans the local news and social media sites, and seriously considers setting up an online dating site just to see if he’s looking for someone. She’s getting desperate, but then fate smiles on her again.

She’s sitting in a coffee shop, something she hardly ever does, when he walks in the door. She doesn’t normally have time for such a mundane, normal activity that other people her age seem to enjoy all the time. She’s usually working during the day, and she has no desire to consume copious amounts of caffeine after 5 pm when she gets off work. Today, though, she has time. She’s taken a half day to run errands and go to the dentist, and she needs the jolt the espresso will give her to survive her reduced shift.

He ducks through the doorway just as she’s taken a sip of her hot beverage, and she almost chokes on the liquid. He shakes the umbrella he’s holding just outside the door and shoves a riot of blonde curls off his forehead that have shrunken up and frizzed from the rain. It’s adorable.

He’s wearing an emerald Henley and faded jeans that hug all the right places. The sight of him freezes her in place, but that doesn’t stop her from tracking him as moves past her. She’s close enough to see his eyes are blue before he marches across the café and approaches a man sitting alone in the corner. They clasp hands and grin at each other, and the vision in green heads to the counter to order.

She’s dumbfounded. Here he is again after so long, and she can’t think of a single thing to say to him or how in the world to actually approach him without making her look absolutely insane. She racks her brain trying to think of an intelligent topic, but she’s jolted from that when the barista walks to the end of the bar and calls a name.

“Peeta! Chai Latte.”

That’s his name, she realizes, and it’s like the sun’s broken through thick, heavy clouds. It’s just unusual enough to fit him and still feel familiar. He smiles at the woman behind the bar and takes the cup from her. He ordered chai, and she files that information away for future reference. He might not like coffee, which seems important.

She’s pondering a trip to the bathroom just so she has an excuse to pass by him when she suddenly understands that he’s leaving. He and his friend are talking as they walk to the door, and she catches the sound of his voice.

“—we can change that, the numbers will—”

His words are swallowed by the rush of traffic outside, but that silky tone she hardly had a chance to listen to has already taken up residence in the part of her brain that creates unrealistic fantasies. She daydreams for longer than she should. In fact, it’s only the vibration of her phone against the table that reminds her she has to get to her job. What a chance encounter, but now she has a name to go with that face.

****

She’s tried to find him again. She’s googled and returned to the coffee shop when she’s had a spare minute or two. She’s asked around and continues to check dating sites. Nothing. She’s found absolutely nothing. Without a last name, she has very little idea how to find out anything else. Frustrated, she goes about her daily life with a weight on her shoulders that shouldn’t be there. He’s a stranger she’s glimpsed only a couple of times.

Frustrated and full of pent-up energy, she joins a gym. There’s nothing quite like working up a good sweat to ease tension and kickstart her brain, so she spends her free time running the track, lifting, and participating in every hot yoga class the establishment offers. After a month, she’s leaner and stronger than ever, but she hasn’t managed to come up with any ideas that might help her find the guy she desperately wants to thank for saving her when she wasn’t sure how she’d eat for a week.

She’s two laps into her normal ten when she glances down from the elevated track and spots a pickup game of three on three basketball on the far court. Three blonde men face off against three with dark hair, one of whom looks remarkably like her best friend Gale Hawthorne, who she hasn’t seen since he left town for a job almost a year ago. As she jogs closer to the court, she realizes it is him teamed up with his brothers. The blonde men look like siblings, too, but she doesn’t spare them much of a glance. She’s got more laps to go, and she doesn’t want to draw any attention to herself. Gale didn’t bother to tell her that he’s in town, and she’s a little miffed by that.

It’s another three passes by the court before it hits her that the blonde men look familiar. She puts on a burst of speed to get back to where she can see the men closeup and almost trips over her own feet when she spies him. It’s the guy. THE guy. The cashier had said Peter, and the barista had called him Peeta. She stops in her tracks and grabs the railing when someone bumps into her from behind.

“Watch it!” he yells as the jogger passes her. “You’re not supposed to stop on the track!”

She dismisses him with a wave and sprints to the nearest stairwell. If she can just catch them… She bounds down the stairs, three at a time, and bursts into a bustling walkway. She dodges and shoves her way free and streaks around the corner to find—

“Catnip! What are you doing here?”

“Gale!” Sweat drips down her forehead and stings her eyes. Cringing, she swipes her hand across her face and tries not to cry. “Where are—? I thought you were playing basketball.”

He throws her a bewildered look and nods like she’s lost it a little. “We were.”

“You’re done?”

“Yeah? We’d been at it for a while. Are you… Have you been watching me?”

Katniss rolls her eyes, although that’s not really very fair. She had noticed him. It’s not like that’s not the case. “Who were you playing with? I saw Vic and Rory, but the blonde guys… Who, er, who were they?”

The expression on his face would be priceless if she weren’t so desperate to find out the information. He looks like he’s swallowed something very, very distasteful, and she tries hard not to snort with laughter.

“Why?”

She takes in his narrowed eyes and realizes she’s going to have to lie to get what she wants. Part of the reason they haven’t been as close since he left town is due to his sudden confessions of feelings toward her. She’d let him down easy, but things have been strained since then. There’s no need to rub that in his face when all she wants is to find out about Peeta. With a straight face and innocent eyes, she explains, “I think one of them door dinged my car a couple of weeks ago. The gym won’t give out membership information, but if you know who they are… Well, I’d be really grateful, Gale.”

He falls for it when she bats her eyelashes at him. She should feel terrible, but all’s fair in love and basketball. Of all people, Gale should want her to be happy, no matter if that means she’s interested in someone else or not. She’s no damsel in distress, unless she can’t pay for her groceries or something. However, her simpering works, and that’s really what she needs.

“Mellark is the last name. They all have bread names. It’s weird.”

She rolls the name around in her head for a bit. Peeta Mellark. It’s a nice solid name, and now she has more information to help her figure out how to find him. Almost giddy with victory, she stretches up on her tiptoes and kisses Gale’s cheek in gratitude. Backing away before he can reciprocate, she hears him as the distance widens between them.

“Do you want to grab dinner sometime? Maybe?”

“Sorry, Gale! Got to go. Really good to see you!”

With that, she turns her back and slips down the hall to the women’s locker room. She doesn’t bother to shower before grabbing her bag and heading to her car. She’s barely closed the door before she’s on her phone and typing in the name Peeta Mellark. She has a thank you to deliver.

****

Surprisingly, it’s not much easier to find him now that she knows his full name. She unveils a lot of information about his family, but not him. Apparently, they own a few local bakeries that she tries out and loves. Still, Peeta’s family is not the same thing as Peeta, who is remarkably absent from social media and with no online presence. She’s willing to admit, she got cocky, and now she can’t figure out how to recover from it.

“Where the hell is he?” she mutters as she comes up empty. Again.

Frustrated, she runs over all the data she’s gathered about him. He’s kind, compassionate, and thoughtful; all of those qualities were on display at the grocery store. He drinks tea and has a very good-looking friend who he talks to about numbers; that she learned at the coffee shop. He’s athletic and has two brothers he likes well enough to exercise with them; that information, and his last name, came from the gym. It should be enough to go on. It’s not.

She’s at home on her couch and paying bills when it suddenly hits her that she may never see this guy again. Peeta Mellark seems to be a figment of her imagination for all the good it’s done to try to find him. That and the small number in her bank account are both so unpleasant that she decides she’s going to have to break down and do something she’s been avoiding and delaying for a very long time. She’s going to have to open a line of credit. She’ll only use it for emergencies, but she can’t rely on the kindness of strangers to bail her out the next time she doesn’t have money for groceries, let alone car maintenance or an unforeseen medical crisis. It’s been months since Peeta saved her, but the humiliation of not being able to take care of herself still hasn’t faded. Before she can change her mind, she grabs her purse and heads to the bank. The time is now.

“Can I help you?” A bubbly blonde teller named Delly asks, and Katniss takes a deep breath to fortify herself.

“I’d like to open a line of credit. Can I talk to someone about that?”

“Sure!” she practically squeals. “Let me just call someone to help you.”

She’s led down the hallway and past a few desks to a small office. Once ushered inside, she sits and raises her eyes to view the person across from her.

“Oh…”

The man before her is stunning—green eyes, bronze hair, a swimmer’s build. It’s the guy’s—Peeta’s—friend, the one he was with at the coffee shop.

“Ms. Everdeen. I’m Finnick Odair. Want some sugar?” he asks and nudges a candy bowl toward her.

“No, I’m fi—.”

“Hey, Finn. Can you— Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were with a customer.”

She jerks at the sound of his voice. Peeta Mellark is standing in the doorway, and her heart is in her throat. She has a sudden flashback of the coffee shop, when the two of them walked past her discussing numbers… Now, it all makes sense. They work at a bank together. Of course they do. Peeta turns to leave, and she calls out.

“Wait! Stay with me.”

She claps her hands over her mouth and wills herself not to blush, but it’s no use. She’s just asked a perfect stranger to stay with her, and her invitation sounds much more intimate than she means it to. He must think she’s insane. Maybe she actually is. She pushes down a sudden urge to flee the situation and escape to the safety of her apartment.

This is out of her wheelhouse. Shy, introverted, and intensely private, Katniss worries the end of her braid and bites her lip. Every instinct she has tells her to run, but the temptation of him before her is too great. Rising, she crosses to him and holds out her hand.

“Hi. My name is Katniss. You saved my life once, and I’ve been on the hunt to find you for months. Thank you.”

Peeta and his friend exchange looks, and she fights the urge to shrivel back into herself. Finally, he looks directly at her and takes her palm in his. With a smile so disarming she nearly faints, he answers.

“Peeta Mellark. It’s nice to meet you.”

The touch of his hand on hers melts her insides. She dreads when she finally has to let go, but maybe she won’t have to. With a shy smile, she cocks out her hip and looks up at him through long lashes. Her flirting may be a disaster, but it’s all she’s got.

“It’s so nice to meet you, too.”

The flicker in his eyes makes her knees weak. An hour later, she’s left the bank with a line of credit, a phone number, and a dinner date. The hunt is finally over.

#hutchhitched #eiramrelyat #prompt 39 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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songtoyou · 3 years

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Tempting Fate - Part Seven

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Nothing major. Mention of smoking cannabis.

Word Count: 2,025

Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone.

A/N: Please don’t hate me.

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.

Tag List: @owenniasstars

Tommy didn’t ask you to walk with him to the canal to meet up with Curly. You didn’t ask to come along. As Tommy said, this was something he needed to do by himself. However, it wouldn’t mean that you weren’t going to worry about him until he safely returned.

One thing you still have trouble contemplating was how much your relationship with Tommy had changed in such a short amount of time. The man used to ignore you to now having sex with you regularly. It was such a fast switch of behavior that you didn’t quite know where it came from. Whenever Tommy was around, you never gave this view much thought or interest, mostly because you were so preoccupied with Tommy that he took up a lot of your attention.

Now with him gone, it allowed you room and time to think things through if Tommy was, in fact, “the one” or not. However, you could not deny your feelings for the man that continued to grow each day you were with him. Tommy made your heart flutter that no other man had been able to accomplish.

You didn’t have too much time to think things over as Esme had arrived with the kids. You let them inside while finished making the lunch packs for the trip.

The kids rallied around you, yelping and begging for treats. “Oi! Settle down, or we won’t be going to no fair!” Esme yelled to the kids, who immediately quieted down.

You laughed while pulling out a tin with biscuits and gave each child a piece. “You lot are lucky she spoils all of you,” Esme said, pointing to each child. “So, I guess Tommy told you to be on your best behavior and not make trouble?” asked Esme, and when you nodded your head, she scoffed. “The same spiel John gave me. Those men have a lot of nerve telling us not to get into trouble.”

“Oh, trust me, then know. It won’t stop them from doing it. Okay, I think I have everything we need. We can head out. Johnny Dogs said he would meet us outside of The Garrison,” you instructed and handed one of the kids the basket with the lunch packs and other items for the road.

The ride to the fair went by fast, thanks to Johnny telling stories the entire way. You could tell Johnny was a good guy. He was a loyal friend to Tommy and appeared to get along with everyone. Johnny appeared not to be a part of one clan but multiple clans. He had the ability to integrate from one to another.

Born in Northern Ireland to a family of Irish travelers, John had befriended Tommy when they were younger. It was only when Tommy, Arthur, and John headed off to France during the War that he joined the Lee gang. You were surprised to find out that it was Johnny who presided over John and Esme’s wedding. You were equally surprised to find out that Esme and John's marriage was not a love marriage. It was arranged by Tommy and the Lees to bring both families together as they were close to being in a war with one another. All in all, you liked the man.

The wagon came to a sudden halt. “We are here!” exclaimed Johnny excitedly.

You looked out to see other wagons all lined up with people spread out in the field. There was music already being played, children running around happily, and the smell of food was exquisite. This is what you had been missing while being in Small Heath. The freedom that comes with traveling, not having to answer to anyone, living off the land, and making do with what you have. Overall, it was the sense of community that you missed the most, of being around others like you. It was one of the reasons why you became so attached to Esme. She understood while others couldn’t. Not even Tommy could understand your feelings of homesickness or why you missed traveling. He tried, but it was not something he would ever understand.

Sometimes you got the sense that Tommy was someone who tended to downplay his roots. You knew his goal of gaining power within the upper hierarchy of British society. You knew the upper crest looked down on those with working-class backgrounds and could only imagine what they thought of those with Romani blood.

While Johnny tended to the horses, you walked around with Esme and the kids. There were fortune tellers, palm readers, stalls selling jewelry, clothing, or farming tools, and an array of other horse-related items for sale. Esme got each of the kids some food and told them to bugger off and not get into trouble.

“Fancy having your fortune told?” you teased Esme, who merely rolled her eyes.

“Charlatans, all of them. They’ll only tell you what you want to hear. I was told I would marry a man who was tall, dark, and handsome. That he would be my soulmate, my other half, all that bullshit these old birds tell ya,” Esme ranted off.

“John’s tall, blond, and handsome. You may have gotten together under the not-so-normal circumstance, but you both love each other very much. Right?”

But Esme shrugged. “So, I take it the honeymoon stage is over?” you asked her.

With a sigh, Esme turned towards you, “John, I don’t know; he doesn’t talk to me about anything. He keeps things to himself, especially with what happened during the War. He has nightmares, you know.”

“Yeah, I figured all of the Shelby brothers have their inner demons from the War. It is the same with Tommy. He doesn’t share much either, but I can’t force him. All I can do is be there for him. That is what you are going to have to do with John. The Shelby’s are an unusual bunch. One we aren’t used to or have experienced before. It is as if they have this need to better themselves and to prove that they are worthy. We don’t have that need. We are happy with what we have and where we come from. No amount of money or materialistic things are going to change who we are,” you elaborated to Esme.

She seemed to consider what you were saying. “I need a drink,” was all Esme said and linked her arm with yours.

The two of you sat under a tree with a drink in hand, sharing a plate of food and passing a joint. Esme seemed to be in a lighter mood than before, thanks to the alcohol and cannabis.

When Esme said your name, you looked over at the brunette. “What?” you asked.

“I meant to ask you this for some time. How is Tommy in bed?”

You could feel the heat on your face. Stifling a smile, you hid your face with your hand to hide your blushing. Soon, you turned into a fit of giggles.

“Come one, now!” yelled Esme smiling. “Don’t get all prudent on me! How is the King of Birmingham in the sack?”

When you were able to compose yourself, you answered, “He is amazing. I don’t know how else to describe being with him. He just…I have never felt like this with any other person. The way he knows my body. It’s like he knows what makes me tick. He knows how to bring me over the edge and back again. It’s an amazing feeling.”

“Must be nice,” was all Esme said and took a drag of the joint.

You looked over at your friend. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes. You couldn’t imagine being in her position. You wouldn’t want to be in a marriage that was arranged by your older brother only to stop a war starting between two rival families. That is bound to create a marriage of convenience rather than love. Your parents were a love match, and it showed. That is what you wanted.

Was Tommy the one for you? You didn’t know, but he was the one for you at the moment.

Thankfully, Tommy returned from London safe and sound. From what you heard from Polly, Tommy’s meeting with Alfie Solomons went well. The leader of the Jewish gang had agreed to align with the Peaky Blinders to take down Sabini. Tommy spent most of his time at Shelby Company Limited, so you didn’t see him too often. This surprised you, but you tried your best to think nothing of it. However, after the first couple of days Tommy got back home, he maintained his distance from you, especially in public.

You stopped by his office one day during your break. You wanted to check on him to see how he was doing. Spotting Lizzie at her desk, you asked if Tommy was in. Not even bothering to look at you, she said he was busy.

“Can you please tell Tommy that I need to talk to him?” you practically pleaded to Lizzie.

You understood the newly appointed secretary’s animosity towards you. She liked Tommy and hated that you had his attention. Lizzie treated Esme the same way now that John was married. You and Esme had the men Lizzie wanted or could have had.

Before you turned to leave, Tommy walked out of his office. He looked at you and waved you inside. “Ms. Stark, please don’t allow any visitors to interrupt my meeting with Ms. Young,” he ordered.

You walked into Tommy’s office, and he guided you to a chair. He asked if you wanted a drink.

“No, I can’t stay long. I only wanted to see how you were doing. I haven’t seen you much since you returned from your trip. Your bruises look like they have healed nicely,” you noted as Tommy sat down in the chair across from you.

He took a swig of his whiskey and pulled out a cigarette. You declined when he offered one to you. “Is everything okay, Tommy?” you asked him, concerned.

As Tommy rubbed his thumb across his lips, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

“It would be best if we don’t see each other anymore,” Tommy spoke, still not looking at you.

For a second, you thought you misheard him. “What?”

Tommy gulped down the rest of his whiskey and slammed the glass on the side table. “I have other things to worry about. The Company needs to have my full attention. If I want to take over Sabini’s racecourses, then I can’t have any distractions. “

Folding your arms, you leaned back in the chair. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Distractions? So, I’m a distraction, now?” you asked in disbelief. It took all you had not to smack the man before you upside the head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m realistic,” Tommy countered and got up to walk to his desk. “This isn’t the time where I should…” he began to say but didn’t finish. It was like he was at a standstill. You could tell he didn’t believe what he was saying. That Tommy himself knew it was all bullshit. He was pushing you away so you wouldn’t get hurt.

Tommy didn’t want you to end up as a casualty in his war with Sabini. He also didn’t want someone like Campbell to use you as leverage against him. You were too much of a liability to him. If his enemies on to your connection to Tommy, then you could be used as a weakness against him.

Deciding that you had enough and didn’t want to listen to his gibberish, you got up and exited the office. Walking back to The Garrison, you told yourself not to cry that you were not going to shed one tear over a man who didn’t want you. That it was wasted energy crying over someone who was not brave enough even to be honest with you.

Tommy Shelby was a complicated man. You realized that he wasn’t the man for you in the long run. He was merely the man for you at the moment. And that moment was gone now.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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taiblogcomics · 3 years

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I Can’t Pet Force You To Read This One, But...

Hey there, high school crushes. Well, it's finally here. Can you believe it? Yes, counting from the original Xanga site (which, yes, still counts. It's like our own Golden Age publication or apocryphia), this is our 10th anniversary of reviewing comics. That's fantastic. I'm excited, can't you tell? I can tell, since I'm writing this preamble a good two months before the actual anniverary~

So, last year we reviewed the absolute pile of dreck that is Heroes in Crisis. And while that was worth ripping into, I'd rather not spend the 10th anniversary hating on something. I'd like to do something actually meaningful to me. I've teased about this one for many years, probably for as long as I've been doing this blog, and I think it's time we stopped pussyfooting around and reviewed some Garfield. But not just any Garfield. It's finally time, my friends. This... is Garfield's Pet Force.

I dunno how many people will remember this one. Maybe you recall the direct-to-DVD movie adaptation from 2009, or at least advertising for it. I never saw it, but apparently it differs a bit. They also appeared a few times in those Garfield comics from back in the day. We even reviewed a couple (some were on the Xanga blog). But what we're looking at here are the original novellas published between 1997 and 1999. So yeah, these really are from my childhood. And since I've long espoused that Garfield was always funnier 20 years ago, this must be actual premium Garfield content, yeah? By golly, I hope so, because we got five whole books here today. So we should probably get into them~

Book 1: The Outrageous Origin

This is a classic sort of superhero cover. Standard team shot of poses, and that's fine for a first volume. In fact, that's great. Later editions of this would replace the lightning-filled gradient background with a pure white one, but I have this original version. We'll get to specifics about these characters in the meat of the story, but let's talk about the costumes for a bit. Very classic early-'90s sort of look, before the Dark Age kicked in. Reminds me a lot of Jim Lee's X-Men designs, actually. Making all your characters visually distinct is important in a team book. The heavy lean into secondary colours is unusual for heroic characters, but not unwelcome.

So we actually start with a cold open in the superhero universe. This is pretty much to introduce us to the characters as soon as possible, and thus I'll do the same for you here.

*Garzooka, team leader, super strong, has a razor-sharp claw, and can shoot radioactive hairballs from his mouth. That's... at least a unique power, I don't think anyone on the Justice League can do that~ *Odious, the dumb muscle with the accent on the "dumb". Possibly even stronger than Garzooka, and possessing a "super-stretchy stun tongue", an elastic tongue that can scramble the minds of whoever it adheres to. *Starlena, the team girl. She can fly, and she has a siren song that can put those who hear it into a hypnotic trance. Garzooka is the only one immune to its effects, for reasons that are never explained. *Abnermal, the kid-appeal character. He has ice powers, forcefields, and an ill-defined "pester power" that means he can annoy people on a greater scale than normal folks. It's pretty much only used for comic relief, but that could be a brilliant power in the right hands. *Compooky, the brains of the operation. Other than flight, his powers are limited to super intelligence, which means he's usually the exposition guy. There's probably a reason they left him out of the movie adaptation~

You got all that? Don't worry, we'll introduce you again later in the book. What actually happens in the intro chapter isn't really important, it's just setting up the universe. In fact, it's all taking place within Pet Force #99, a comic just enjoyed by Nermal. Yes, we quickly cut over to the main Garfield universe ("our universe", the narrator calls it), where Pet Force is just a comic book. The Garfield gang is all outside, enjoying a cookout prepared by Jon Arbuckle. Nermal is extremely enthused by his comic book, and brags about how he has all 98 previous issues sealed and polybagged, and this one will soon join them. Sorry, Nermal, this came out in 1997, the speculator boom already went bust~

Garfield dismisses comic books as stupid because you can't eat them or use them as a blanket, and declares that none of the stuff that happens in the comic could possibly happen in real life. Uh oh, irony! Because these things can happen, and do! It's a parallel universe, baby! This might be one of my earliest introductions to a "parallel worlds" concept. Much like Earths 1 and 2 in pre-Crisis DC, the events of the comic are essentially the real life adventures of their super-powered counterparts in another dimension. Most of the action in these stories will take place there~

So here's the setup: Vetvix (the parallel equivalent to Liz the veternarian) is an evil sorceress and scientist, who essentially wants to experiment on animals in peace, and possibly subjugate the universe while she's at it. You could argue that Liz is an odd choice for villain, since our universe's Liz isn't particularly evil. But then, our universe's Garfield isn't particularly heroic either. She operates out of a deadly space station called the Orbiting Clinic of Chaos, and at present she's waiting for the arrival of her henchman, Space Pie-Rat, who is a six-foot-tall anthropomorphic rat dressed in stereotypical pirate getup. Vetvix has just finished inventing a levitation ray, and she'd like Pie-Rat to go out and use it to steal all the food in the universe. Vetvix doesn't think small, is what I'm saying.

The counter to Vetvix is Emperor Jon, ruler of the planet Polyester. He's kind and benevolent, even if he's a little dippy and his fashion sense atrocious. Having gotten wind of Vetvix's latest plan, he contacts Pet Force in their ship, the Lightspeed Lasagna. Upon learning the problem, Pet Force gives chase to Pie-Rat. They eventually corner him on some desolate planet, landing and entering an abandoned factory. Unfortunately, they're not safe amongst the dangerous machinery, because this turns out to be a trap. Vetvix has been busy as hell, because she's also invented a metal that's impervious to their powers. And that's not all, because she's also basically invented the Phantom Zone, where she traps Pet Force forever. It specifically mentions it doesn’t kill them, because it wouldn't be kosher to murder the heroes in a Garfield book~

The Lightspeed Lasagna has both onboard cameras connected to the heroes' belts as well as automatic return protocols, so within two days, Emperor Jon knows exactly what's happened to Pet Force. He needs help, so he calls upon his most trusted and powerful advisor: Binky the Sorceror. Binky's just as loud and obnoxious as in the main universe, but he's also a powerful magician. He conjures up a spell for Emperor Jon that lets him pierce the veil between universes. It's basically Equestria Girls rules: parallel universes have similar characters between them. So to replace Pet Force, they need the nearest genetic equivalents from another universe. And that's the versions of Garfield, Odie, Arlene, Nermal, and Pooky that we know and love~

Back in the main universe, it's another day entirely. Another cookout is taking place, and Nermal has received his special anniversary issue of Pet Force #100. The cover's really special, dripping with '90s cover gimmicks like glow-in-the-dark and embossing. A rarely used one, though, was "portal to another universe". That was pretty expensive to print, so you won't find many comics like Nermal's. Maybe he had something there with the collecting after all. The cover glows, and while Jon is distracted by the grill, Garfield and Friends disappear~

They reappear in Emperor Jon's wood-paneled throne room, now transformed into Pet Force. Emperor Jon and Sorceror Binky try to explain the situation, but Garfield--now Garzooka--is disbelieving of the whole thing. In fact, even the idea that Jon can now hear him talk absolutely floors him. Since he's about to deliver the exposition for everyone, can we talk about Compooky for a minute? This spell has just granted sapience to Garfield's teddy bear. I don't expect deep philosophy from a children's novella, but the ramifications of this are really under-explored. Like, never mind the whole idea of a teddy bear having the same genetic makeup as an alternate universe equivalent. He goes from inanimate object to fully conscious being, and he just rolls with it.

Anyways, once everybody gets caught up on what's going on and accepts the new reality, a training montage ensues so the group can all learn to use their powers without killing each other. Once at least reasonably trained, the reborn Pet Force is sent out to stop Pie-Rat. He's gotten sloppy in the times with Pet Force dead, so they track him down easily. After a brief scuffle where Garzooka takes his eyepatch, Pie-Rat flees in his ship. They follow Pie-Rat back to the Orbital Clinic of Chaos, but they can't go in the front. That led the original Pet Force into a trap. Finding an unguarded maintenance hatch--standard on any big space station--they enter Vetvix's lair for a final confrontation!

After dealing with the Waiting Room of Doom, which slowly fills with outdated magazines, they enter Vetvix's inner sanctum. Frustrated with Pie-Rat's failure, she uses her magic to turn him into an ordinary mouse. Vetvix then attempts to use her same weapon on this new Pet Force, but thanks to story contrivance, it only works on beings born in this universe. As other dimensional visitors already, they can't be banished to another dimension. She then pulls a Dr. Claw and runs off cursing Pet Force's name while her base self-destructs. Vetvix is a very "discard and draw" sort of villain, it seems. Pet Force, of course, makes a harrowing escape just in the nick of time.

Returning to Emperor Jon, they vow to be ready to return whenever they're called on, since evil never stays dormant for long. Odious even gifts Emperor Jon with the mouse-ified Pie-Rat as proof of their victory. Well, I'm glad they remember that, so they didn't accidentally murder a major villain in their first superhero outing. They're returned to their own universe, and the time differential between them places them back with Jon having not had time to even look up from the grill. Garfield begins to doubt the adventure even happened--until that night, when he finds Pie-Rat's eyepatch still on his person. Ah, definitive proof of... eyepatches, I guess~

Book 2: Pie-Rat's Revenge!

You have to wonder where, in a space-faring superhero setting, Pie-Rat got the inspiration for his classic pirate motif. It's a little incongruous is all I'm saying. And hey, remember when I said earlier that Garzooka's purple-and-green colour scheme was odd for a hero? Well, here he is as a villain! That'll catch your eye. This would be a terrific comic cover, which is what you want in a series like this.

The book opens with a brief recap of the previous story's events, then moves into the new plot. See, Emperor Jon has opted to keep the polymorphed Pie-Rat as his pet. How very Ron Weasley of him. That's pretty apt, actually, because similarly Pie-Rat has maintained his intelligence in his new mousey form. Pie-Rat gets sick of being Emperor Jon's pet and plans a daring escape, exploiting the emperor's dimwitted and loving personality against him. Pie-Rat jams the lock with a food pellet and makes his escape that night.

Once free from his cage, he encounters Binky's cauldron, still left in the throne room from when the sorceror summoned Pet Force from Garfield's universe. Figuring he has nothing to lose, Pie-Rat jumps in the leftover brew. Suddenly he finds himself growing. He returns to his original anthropomorphic state--but with a twist. He's now twice his original height, a staggering twelve feet tall. He scoops up the rest of the remaining potion for later, and sneaks out of the palace as best as a 12-foot rat can sneak. Desiring revenge on both his former employer and his longtime foes, he steals Pet Force's ship and makes his escape from the planet, headed for Vetvix's newest base.

After his guards help Emperor Jon put the pieces of the problem together, they decide they must once again call upon the powers of Pet Force to recover their missing vehicle and stop the newly embiggened Pie-Rat. Fortunately, Garfield and friends have been watching movies all weekend, so Jon doesn't notice when his pets disappear from the living room in a bright flash. Of course, once returned to the alternate universe and the situation explained, they still have a problem: how do they give chase to Pie-Rat when he's got their ship?

And speaking of Pie-Rat in their ship, he's followed the trail of a mysterious energy output, and it's led him right to Vetvix's new base, the Menacing Moon of Mayhem. See, this is why you don't blow up your base: the backup base is never as good. if it was, it wouldn't be the backup. Given that it's such a shoddy base, Pie-Rat is easily able to get inside and get close to Vetvix. She's expecting a technological attack, so she's unprepared when he pulls out that vial of magic potion and sprinkles her with it. And naturally, the potion that made him grow 12 feet tall makes Vetvix shrink to 5 inches. It's magic, we don't have to explain it!

Pie-Rat takes the magic crystal that Vetvix uses to fuel her powers, which of course didn't shrink because magic is just bullshit. See previous paragraph's last sentence. And while Pie-Rat takes over the base and begins plotting a further revenge against Pet Force, we cut over to them. They're at Sorceror Binky's own castle, and it's clear he's a bit of a hoarder. This is to their advantage, though, as they eventually piece together a working spaceship out of old car parts and other things, all patched together between Compooky's know-how and Binky's magic. This seems like the sort of book where I could use that "it's magic" quote every other paragraph. But craft a new--if small--ship they do, and speed off in the newly christened Planetary Pizza.

The rickety little ship does eventually find its way to Pie-Rat's base, saving him the trouble of being proactive as a villain. The magic thing keeps happening, and Pie-Rat basically becomes Discord for a bit while he fights them, doing things like turning Starlena's siren song into actual living music notes. One by one, the members of Pet Force are taken out, with only Garzooka is left. He and Pie-Rat struggle, while Pie-Rat tries to aim the magic crystal at Garzooka. Garzooka uses his claw to rip the crystal from Pie-Rat and defeat him.

Unfortunately, here's where the cover comes in. It seems the moments Pie-Rat was focusing the crystal during the struggle affected Garzooka's mind. He puts the crystal around his own neck. which turns him evil. He helps Pie-Rat to his feet, and the pair escape in the Lightspeed Lasagna. While Pet Force pursues them in their ramshackle ship, the new criminal duo strikes the storage planet of Deli to steal their food. Pet Force manages to catch up as the villains celebrate their spoils, and use a magic blast from the systems Binky installed to short out the Lightspeed Lasagna. This enables them to dock with the ship and climb aboard for a contfrontation.

The group fights, and once again the bearer of a bullshit magic crystal subdues the heroes easily. Annoyed now, Garzooka takes hold of Starlena and prepares to kill her or something. She taps into the one thing she has left: she's not fighting just Garzooka, but Garfield in his body. She drops some heavy put-downs, which resonate with Garfield, and he hesitates long enough for her to cut the crystal off him. The crystal hits the floor and shatters, undoing its evil magics on Garzooka's mind as well as on all his teammates. With Pet Force reunited, Pie-Rat is easily subdued and locked up.

The group waits for the ship to power back up, then speed off to apologise to the planet Deli. Following that, they head back towards Vetvix's moonbase. That night, though, the magic that was making Pie-Rat 12 feet tall wears off, and he escapes from his cell. He steals the remaining shards of the crystal, climbs into the Planetary Pizza, and makes a getaway. As a bonus, he also repeats the power-down spell against the bigger ship, giving him ample time to escape. And he's not the only one. Over on the Menacing Moon of Mayhem, Vetvix also returns to her proper size, and abandons this base as well. And when Pet Force fails to find her, they simply return to their own universe, ready to be called on once again in the future~

Book 3: K-Niner: Dog of Doom!

Another very basic comic book-style cover. K-Niner is a much more typical villain in style. This one's actually a wrap-around, and features the rest of Pet Force reacting to K-Niner on the back cover. Which is good because, other than the first cover, the covers all have a heavy Garzooka focus. Which makes sense for a book series, I suppose, you wanna assure the kiddos that Garfield's gonna be in the book. But as a comic book series, this would be a bad look for a team book~

So after our standard introduction and recap, we start off with Vetvix in yet another new base, the Floating Fortress of Fear. I'm sure it's very intimidating, if she can keep hold of it for more than a single book. She's picking up from the epilogue and putting the last touches on K-Niner, mostly enhancing his intelligence. Now, you look at the cover and tell me what kind of voice you'd expect. Some sort of German or Austrian accent, like the doberman on Road Rovers? Does anyone remember Road Rovers~? Anyways, but no: he speaks with a posh British accent. You know, the "I say, good chaps, looks like we're in a bit of a sticky wicket, eh wot?" type. Trust me, you can tell. But just because he sounds refined doesn't mean he's not evil.

I also love that after the initial "trapped them in the Phantom Zone" bit, the villains just go whole ham. K-Niner here demonstrates that he is indeed evil by threatening to rip out Vetvix's throat. Let your villains be villainous is all I'm saying. She's pleased he's so vicious, but feels he needs to learn his place as well. She force-chokes him until he complies. She then gives him his assignment: she thinks dogs should be liberated. The Boy Mayor of Second Life would approve, and so does K-Niner. Turning pets on their masters is just his style.

K-Niner takes a portable evolution gun, and immediately sets off. He begins on the planet Kennel. Isn't it neat how every planet is named after an English word that describes its function? K-Niner quickly takes over the dog population and turns them against their masters, because boosting their intelligence also makes them evil, of course. They use enslavement collars on their former owners, and within a few days, the dogs now run the planet. We cut over to Emperor Jon on Polyester, where a man has crash-landed a ship. He's an escapee from Kennel, and he's here to report the events so we can get the plot moving and once more summon Pet Force!

And summoned once more they are, Garfield and Friends once more conveniently disappearing in a split second while Jon's back is turned (this time they're outside playing volleyball). And once back in the parallel universe, Emperor Jon fills them all in on K-Niner's dastardly doings. Garzooka, naturally, takes great offense to dogs being in charge, and takes his duties as a hero completely seriously for once. Pet Force takes off for a confrontation with K-Niner in the Lightspeed Lasagna. And speaking of Pet Force's ships...

The Planetary Pizza, piloted by Pie-Rat, plants its pads down on polar planet Glacia. Pie-Rat is here seeking a way to restore his magic crystal and regain his mighty magic powers. He's sought out the home of a legendary evil wizard, who's known by the name of... Barfo. I see why Barfo keeps his location a secret. But anyway, Barfo is the one who made the crystal, so naturally Pie-Rat reasons he can restore it as well. Suprisingly once on Glacia, Barfo's evil lair is pretty easy to find. His manservant, Hobart the Gnome, brings Pie-Rat before the wizard, and within moments the crystal is restored! Pie-Rat turns to thank Hobart, but Hobart suddenly turns into Vetvix!

Yes, Vetvix knew all along that Pie-Rat's quest would lead him here. And as she was once Barfo's student in the ways of evil magic, she knew she could get the old coot to go along with her plan. Barfo returns the crystal to Vetvix, restoring her powers. And so Pie-Rat, a recurring villain in three whole books, is unceremoniously done away with, as Vetvix teleports him inside an asteroid, trapping him in solid rock. Even if the asteroid were hollow or he displaced the interior when he teleported in, no doubt he'll suffocate within moments. That's pretty harsh.

With that over, we rejoin Pet Force as they approach Kennel. K-Niner's battle cruiser spots them incoming, and shoots the ship down, even in spite of Abnermal's forcefields. Pet Force bail out of the ship, and Abnermal uses his powers to make snow to cushion their fall. Upon landing, a contingent of mutant animals attack. The mooks aren't much, but K-Niner himself puts up an impressive fight. However, one of the mooks pulls a gun and points it at Compooky. This is why Compooky usually stays aboard the ship, but that wasn't an option. Rather than let their friend get hurt, Pet Force surrenders.

Pet Force is held prisoner separately from Compooky, with both the cell's technology making it freeze-proof and threats of "don't break out, or we'll shoot your compatriot". Their imprisonment is not long, though, as suddenly the power goes out. Pet Force takes advantage of the situation and make their escape, quickly running into Compooky. K-Niner didn't think the hyper-intelligent teddy bear needed a high security cell, and just locked him in the basement. It was easy for him to then break out and shut down the local power grid. This also has the side effect of turning off the control collars the humans were wearing. How convenient!

With control of the planet now tilted in their favour, Pet Force now has time to both fix their ship and reverse the polarity of the brain-boosting weapons, turning the dog population of Kennel back to their normal selves. Though the experience did change the pet owners of Kennel. Having experienced life in their pets' shoes (so to speak) for a bit, they've resolved to treat their canine companions a bit more equally. More being allowed on the furniture, less stupid tricks for treats. Still, Pet Force can't stay long, and they head off in pursuit of K-Niner's battle cruiser. This is why most superheroes don't have spaceships (Jedis don't count): if your enemy also has one, they can flee way more easily than on foot.

Not willing to let another place go to the dogs, as it were, Pet Force catches up with K-Niner. With his previous success, Vetvix has stepped up the timetable and sent him after Polyester right away. Emperor Jon is in danger! They enter the planet's atmosphere, and are attacked by fighter craft. They fend them off, but their weapons system is damaged in the fight, so they can't simply use the reverse brain-rays and solve it quickly. The team splits up instead: Garzooka and Abnermal will go after K-Niner, while the other three will find the planet's power source and knock out the collars, since that worked so well the last time.

The two heroes quickly make short work of K-Niner's guards, and then turn the battle to deal with the Dog of Doom himself. While the struggle goes on, the rest of Pet Force reach the planet's power grid. Using a clever tactic, Compooky overloads the power and causes and electrical storm that simultaneously undoes the brain-boosting effect and shorts out the enslavement collars. There's only a few pages left, after all, and we have to wrap this up. K-Niner is reverted back into an ordinary dog, and the emperor is reverted to an ordinary non-enslaved person. The day is saved!

And now once again, Pet Force prepares to return to their own universe. However... when the spell clears, the five heroes are still standing there. Something is blocking the passage between dimensions, and Pet Force is trapped. And while Pet Force's adventures have taken place between mere moments in their own universe, they have always returned quickly enough that Jon didn't notice a thing. But this time, as Jon retrieves the volleyball and turns around to his pets, he's surprised to find they've all vanished into thin air...

Book 4: Menace of the Mutanator

This one's very striking because of its more painted look compared to the heavy black outlines the rest of the covers have. Does this one count as having the whole team on the cover? Because, spoilers, that's what the Mutanator is: the rest of Pet Force mashed up into a villain. Again, though, that's definitely a striking image that'd draw in readers to a comic cover. In fact, while Garzooka may be over-used as a cover focus, several of these also show him imperiled in some way, and that's nice for character stuff. That helps balace it a bit~

I wanna say, before we start, that I'm impressed by the continuity for the series as a whole. They could've just written each story as a standalone, but for a series of 100-page children's novellas starring Garfield characters as superheroes, things happen in these books. Like, maybe not sweeping status quo changes, but events affect the plot of each next book down the line. And that's where we pick up! Right where the last book left off, with Pet Force now stuck in the alternate universe, unable to return home to Jon. But if they can't go home to Jon, well, maybe then events will conspire to bring Jon to them~

Yep, because Jon happens to wander into the room where they keep the copy of Pet Force #100 that acts as a portal to their universe, he gets transported into the Pet Force universe. And since Emperor Jon is still an extant entity, there's just two Jons now. Jon, of course, is a bit freaked out, and it takes several pages to explain the whole deal to him, and also have a showcase of all their powers to pad out the book some more. Eventually, they decide to call in Sorceror Binky to examine the problem. When he has a go of it, a sudden tornado emerges from the cauldron and whisks away Pet Force--save for Garzooka, whose prodigious strength keeps him anchored.

Garzooka heads out in the Lightspeed Lasagna to track Pet Force's signature, glad to get away from a double trouble Jon. And while he's searching, the scene cuts to Vetvix's Floating Fortress of Fear. Hey, one of her bases actually lasted more than one book! This is where Pet Force has been transported to, once more in a power-proof cell. Vetvix monologues to the heroes, as she is wont to do, explaining that she's the one who cast the spell to keep them from returning home. And further, she's brought them here to mutate them into her servants.

While Emperor Jon exposits about his backstory (turns out he is not of royal blood, and has about as much legitimate claim to the throne as you or I do), the search continues. Sorceror Binky detects Pet Force, giving them all a view of what happens next. The trapped members of Pet Force are literally broken apart and reassembled: Odious' body, Compooky's brain inserted into the chest, Abnermal's hands, and Starlena's head. She christens this beast "Mutanator", and it is soullessly obedient. I also wanna say, Mutanator's kind of a non-binary icon, aren't they? (The comic uses "it", but it was 1998 and alternative pronouns weren't really a thing yet.) Muscular, masculine body, but confident enough to still wear lipstick. It's a look, is all I'm saying~

Mutanator continues to possess the combined powers of Pet Force as well. Vetvix sends them to attack the planet Armory to gear up before attempting to conquer Polyester. And meanwhile, thanks to the convenience of being able to scan all of Compooky's memories now that his brain is part of Mutanator, Vetvix has the perfect trap to spring on Garzooka--or should she say Garfield. Yes, she really knows the whole origin for Pet Force now, and now she knows all Garfield's weaknesses, likes and dislikes, and probably blood type and other dating profile stats~

Thus, when Garzooka receives the coordinates from Emperor Jon and arrives at the Floating Fortress, he finds himself menaced by giant spiders. Vetvix couldn't think of a way to get Mondays to attack him, so the Giant Spider Invasion will do. Spiders are apparently very formiddable foes, Garzooka's personal fears aside. They can swat gamma hairballs out of the air, they can construct webs as quickly as certain Marvel heroes, and their hairy exoskeletons are resistant to both claw and strength. But despite his fear and Abnermal's running commentary, Garzooka manages to trounce the spiders with a carefully applied flame--taking Vetvix's blueprints with them.

Garzooka heads out once again to track down the Mutanator, leaving his less-than-all-together friends in the safety of their forcefield prison. While he's off, we return to the perspective of his target. Using their combined powers, the Mutanator swiftly conquers the planet Armory and sets their sights on Polyester next. It's not a bad plan, honestly. With the stockpile from Armory, not only will the Mutanator be more powerful, Polyester won't be able to use the planet for backup. Fortunately for the two Jons, though, Garzooka intercepts the Mutanator before they can leave Armory.

The fight's actually pretty good. Very back and forth. But even despite Garzooka's great strength, the Mutanator wins in the end. Thankfully, Vetvix puts her conquest of Polyester on hold to take the time to retrieve Garzooka and add his power to the Mutanator. This, of course will be her undoing--in a completely ridiculous way, of course. For back in the palace, our universe's Jon is watching Pet Force's struggles with the scrying cauldron. And he leans in a bit too close. Sowhile Vetvix is prepping the machine to divide Garzooka's body like she did the rest of Pet Force, Jon suddenly tumbles through the dimensional warp caused by the cauldron and lands on Vetvix, which causes her to put the machine in reverse. A real Jonnus ex cauldrona there, eh?

The Mutanator disappears, their existance as a unique being wiped out as their pieces return to their proper Pet Force owners. With Pet Force reassembled, Garzooka takes out Vetvix with one of his gamma-radiated hairballs while she's distracted by Jon. Pet Force decides that the vile veternarian should have a taste of her own medicine, and stick her in the body-splicing machine with some of her guards. This divides them all up and mixes them into bizarre combinations. It also has the side effect of disabling Vetvix's magic, so they can return to their own universe now.

The book wraps up here. Pet Force first returns to Armory to both return the stolen weapons and also make repairs on the buildings that were damaged in Garzooka's fight with the Mutanator. That's the sort of thing I'd like to see in more superhero stories in general. The two Jons part ways, with the Emperor believing the other Jon's heroism to have been deliberate. And thus are Garfield and friends returned home. And just like the end of their first adventure, where Garfield couldn't be sure if it really happened, so too is Jon's memory fading. Had he really witnessed all that? Only his pets know for sure--and in this universe, they can't talk~

Book 5: Attack of the Lethal Lizards

This one's another wrap-around, showing the rest of Pet Force engaging the remaining Lethal Lizards on the back cover. This is one advantage books have over comics: a front and back cover you can use for your story-telling. The Lizard designs are pretty good for a villain group too. Like Pet Force, they don't adhere to a particular theme, but they do look good individually. Garzooka roasting a hot dog on a stick might be a bit too comedic for a superhero story, though. It sets the tone wrong. How "lethal" can they possibly be if Garzooka is out here roasting hot dogs in the middle of battle?

So here we go, last book. After the usual recap, we open with Jon explaining to Garfield and friends his latest plans: they're going to WackyWorld, a theme park dedicated to Jon's favourite cartoon, The Wackies. Both Garfield and Nermal think the show is lame, and if those two agree on something, you know it must be so. In less lame universes, however, trouble is once more a-brewing. So it turns out Vetvix's Floating Fortress of Fear has been orbiting the swamp planet Reptilius this whole time. And her various experiments in the last two books have been radiating the planet in magical energy...

From that magical power, three reptiles find themselves uplifted in intelligence and granted fantastic powers. Please say hello to our three main villains for this book: Snake, an enormous snake (the only one without an anthro design) with stretching powers; Chameleon, who can shapeshift; and Dragon, a komodo dragon with fire breath and the bad attitude to match. While Snake and Chameleon figure out their powers, Dragon declares himself the leader as he's clearly the smartest, strongest, and most powerful. They name themselves the Lethal Lizards and start plotting how to rule the planet.

After that exciting intro, though, the book kind of slows down. First we get a whole chapter of Emperor Jon also deciding to go on vacation, to planet Funlandia. With Vetvix out of commission for a while, there's no better time. In short, he's out of the castle and Sorceror Binky is in charge. This is followed by a chapter of Jon and his pets at WackyWorld. It's certainly an accommodating amusement park to allow pets on its grounds. Garfield at least gets along with the food, but if you know anything about amusement park food prices, the amount Garfield eats will make your wallet weep. Jon takes his mind off it by dragging the pets along to a ride. Surely they have to be under the height restriction~

Fortunately, we get back to the actual stars of this book, and we see a bit more of their dynamic. Snake is the sort who sucks up to whoever's calling themselves "Boss" at the moment. Dragon is power-hungry, and it's clear he'll sell out his allies at the drop of a hat. Chameleon is Starscream. Anyway, they trek through the jungles of Reptilius until they find a downed spaceship. Reviewing the logs reveals it was a scout ship from Vetvix, and they also learn of Vetvix and her mission. However, they don't know where Emperor Jon lives, so they crowd into the the newly christened Rapacious Reptile and set course for the stars.

The first planet they come across is a world called Klod. Quickly the Lethal Lizards beat up the populace and find the local government. Chameleon shapeshifts into a dignitary, pretending to be an advance entourage for Emperor Jon, schmoozing with the governor until he learns both what Jon looks like and the name of his planet. With this information secure, Chameleon nips out suddenly, and the trio sets forth towards Polyester. Governer Klutz calls up the palace as soon as the reptiles depart, and reports the incident to Sorceror Binky.

Binky wastes no time, and he dials up Pet Force. Since all five are in one place, he's able to pull them through even without them being near the gateway through issue #100's cover. Convenient! Pet Force, however, does waste time, as a lengthy comedy scene eats up several pages before we just get on with it. Eventually, the situation is conveyed, and they figure it's safer to keep Emperor Jon on Funlandia for the time being. Compooky stays behind to help plan some strategies, while the rest of Pet Force boards the Lightspeed Lasagna to intercept the Lethal Lizards before they even arrive.

Pet Force spends the next few minutes both scanning for incoming ships and bickering with each other, so I'm very glad when the Rapacious Reptile appears on their detectors before too long. Dragon threatens the ship, telling them to move or he'll knock them aside. It's a spaceship, dude, you can move in three dimensions. The ships trade shots, and while Chameleon's piloting is actually pretty good due to his independently-rotating eyeballs, eventually both ships crash land on whatever planet is nearby.

Both ships crash right next to each other, which is improbable but less ridiculous than some of the contrivances in these books, so I'm okay with it. Now you'd think what with the enemies being reptiles and Abnermal having freezing powers that this battle would be over really easily, but no. In fact, Garzooka and Dragon are pretty evenly matched. Snake turns out to be immune to Starlena's siren song because snakes don't have external ears. See, now there's a contrivance I find a bit weird. Snake swallows Abnermal whole, and Chameleon and Odious get literally tongue-tied. The Lethal Lizards actually live up to their name pretty well.

As the fight continues, half of both sides are laid out when Compooky comes rushing up, saying he has an urgent message from the emperor. And that's when he sucker-punches the team. It was actually Chameleon in disguise, having gotten knocked away when he and Odious separated. So yeah, round one goes to the Lizards, and they make their escape first. Pet Force regroups, and they give chase. The Lizards have enough head start to really lay siege to Polyester before Pet Force arrives, though. They even get access to the palace using Chameleon's shapeshifting, leading to Sorceror Binky letting slip the real location of the emperor just as Pet Force arrives.

Another fight ensues--see, now it's really a superhero story--and the Lizards leave again 2 and 0. This time Snake uses his venomous fangs to attack Starlena. This leads to the weirdest contrivance yet. Maybe not the worst, but definitely the weirdest. They have only minutes to save Starlena. So how do they do it? Well, they notice that Odious drools quite a lot. It's very "fluid output". So they have Binky magically reverse Odious' drooling, so that he has "fluid input" on his tongue instead. It becomes a big suction sponge and sucks the poison out of Starlena. They then restore the drooling, and he just harmlessly drools out the poison. What.

With their teammate saved, Pet Force pursues the Lethal Lizards to Funlandia. They get there just in time to rescue Emperor Jon from their clutches, with Garzooka and Odious combining their strength to literally rip a kiddie ride out of the ground. Starlena corners Chameleon in a hall of mirrors, turning his own trick against him. Snake is undone by Odious' strength. And Garzooka fights Dragon to a standstill, finally trapping all three on a roller coaster still operating. When the ride comes to an end, Abnermal freezes them all until the authorities can retrieve them.

Naturally, Emperor Jon thinks it's all part of the show (because Jon is dimwitted in any universe). The Lizards are sent to a lizard-proof prison (seriously, it specifies this), and Pet Force returns to their own universe. As usual, Jon didn't notice his pets go missing during the dark amusement park ride. The book concludes on an ominous note, however, as the ship carrying the Lethal Lizards makes its jump to lightspeed just as it passes the Floating Fortress of Fear. The shockwave knocks over some debris that reactivates the combining machine, restoring Vetvix to her full evil might once more!

The end!

No, really. Those five books are all there was. I hear it may have continued into the comics, but I don’t know how accurate that is. I didn’t really look into it.

But boy, what a ride, huh? Let’s dissect the books one at a time, since it only seems fair to take them as individual stories.

The Outrageous Origin: It’s a fairly basic origin story, I’d say. It kind of has to be. I guess my main gripe is that, like Rita Repulsa’s entire run on Power Rangers, the heroes never fight the main villain directly. In fact, there’s barely even an evil plot in this one. You have henchmen and some traps, and that’s about it for the menace.

Pie-Rat’s Revenge: A cautionary tale about why you treat your minions with respect. This one’s pretty good, but the events depicted on the cover make up such a small part of the book. Wouldn’t it have been more fun if Garzooka was turned at the beginning of the story? Book 4 would at least do the reverse of that, so it’s not a major complaint~

K-Niner, Dog of Doom: I think this one’s about as middle of the road as you can get. What a coincidence that it’s also the middle of the series! Like I said in the recap portion, it’s a shame that Pie-Rat’s story ended here. This one definitely feels more “villain of the week” than most.

Menace of the Mutanator: This one might be the best book in the series. Garzooka, alone, battling against the best parts of his team? That’s gripping stuff. I guess the main problem is that the Mutanator isn’t really a character in and of themselves. Like, K-Niner, he may have been a generic rent-a-villain type, but he had a personality. Mutanator is little more than an extention of Vetvix’s will.

Attack of the Lethal Lizards: I’m a bit split on this one. The bits with the titular Lizards are great. They steal the show! But the parts where it focuses on either Jon kind of drag, and Pet Force is a bit too jokey here. Like, I get the point is that they’ve relaxed into their roles now, and there’s not much point of doing it as a Garfield story if they don’t actually use the character personalities, but... I dunno. It’s good, but it could have been better~

And that’s it! Like, I dunno how to wrap this up. Pet Force was neither my first exposure to superheroes nor my first introduction to the Garfield brand (you can thank Saturday morning cartoons for both of those). But for some reason, maybe just the absurdly goofy premise, it always kinda stuck with me. And I think that’s a good enough reason to make it my 10th anniversary review, don’t you~?

#books #reviews #Garfield #Pet Force #Garfield's Pet Force #Taiblog

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aficwhore · 4 years

Text

Times Square Significance

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, oral(female receiving), cockwarming, lovemaking?, language

Word Count: 1,986

Summary: After Aaron proposes in New York City, him and the reader head back to their hotel for a romantic night.

A/N: It has been super duper long since I’ve last written but this came to my head and I HAD to put it out into the internet. Let me know if you like it! Send in requests!!! I also didn’t spell check… oops.

Reader POV:

It was about time that Aaron and I took a small vacation. The BAU had started to get really stressful with the amount of cases popping up and people needing our help. Finally died down and we decided to get away, even if it was just for a few days. We drove all the way to New York City, just because Aaron knew how much I loved it.

Today is our second day here, I’ve been so excited that I woke up early to find Aaron curled up on my side with his head resting on my chest. His deep breaths fanning over my exposed skin, his floppy dark locks tickling my neck. I began to card my fingers through his hair, not wanting to wake him, but that failed when he started to stir a little bit.

Aaron muffled, “What time is it,” still groggy from his slumber.

“It’s 10 o’clock sleeping beauty,“ I quietly giggled. He slightly shook his head at the nickname, a light blush making its way to his cheeks. Without saying anything he got up and went to the bathroom, only for the shower to start seconds later. Taking this as a sign to get ready, I climbed out of bed and opened up my suitcase. I wasn’t sure what to wear, I had no idea what her plans were for today on the town. Just as I was thinking Aaron yelled from the bathroom, “Wear something nice! We might go see if we can snag tickets for a show!”

My heart fluttered, he knows how much I love Broadway. “Oh yeah? Which one are you thinking?“ I question as he walked out of the bathroom with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.

“That I’m not actually sure of, what’s the one with the soundtrack you listen to? The ghost in the theater or something?“ He asked.

Giggling I reply, “Phantom of the opera, silly. But I will admit that was cute.“

He walked over to me, “I try.“ He quickly picked me on the lips in rummages through his suitcase for clothes.

I finally choose a red, flowy dress, with some wedges and curl my hair and throw a little makeup on. Aaron dressed in some nice dress pants and a cream colored button up, with the first but none done, which was unusual for Mr. boss man.

We walked to a cute little diner for something to eat, by the time I was finished getting ready it was already lunchtime. We ate and chatted about New York and what else we were going to do during our stay.

*tiny time skip*

We had just bought our tickets for the Phantom of the Opera, grabbed some drinks, and headed to our seats. The whole time I sat in complete awe, I was a total nerd for the show. Aaron kept staring at me, I could see from the corner of my eye. I whispered, “why do you keep looking at me?“

“I love you, and because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.“ He attempted to whisper back over the loud contents of the show in front of us.

“Shush! we are watching!“ Some random lady whisper-yelled at us, causing us to giggle and turn back to the performance. Aaron‘s hand made its way to my knee, slightly squeezing, earning a small smile from me. I leaned against the shoulder for the remainder. When it ended I cannot stop talking about how amazing life theater is, he would just check with my enthusiasm and let me continue on.

As we left the theater Aaron suggested we walk around Times Square and watch the lights. I agreed and we walked the block hand-in-hand. We arrive minutes later, the whole street not needing a single light, due to what seems like a 1000 billboards. We stood right in the middle, taking in the beauty around us. I got too caught up in the site that I turned away from Aaron. Basking in the smell of the city and the pictures that scattered the buildings. One billboard particularly caught my attention, for a second I thought my name popped up. Watching the same one to see if it happened again, a new message appeared reading, “Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?” confused, I turned around to see if Aaron was saying what I was seeing, but when I spun on my heel I was met with crowds of people surrounding us, filming us on their phones. I look down to see Aaron on one knee with a ring in between his fingers. “You have made me the happiest man on earth. You have made my life so amazing, from being a badass FBI agent, to a wonderful stepmom to Jack, and to being the most kind and selfless person I know. I can’t imagine my life without you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, will you do me the honor of marrying me?“ He stuttered.

Tears began to fill my eyes and spill out onto my cheeks, my first instinct was to lunch at him, causing his post to fall to the pavement giggling, “yes! Yes of course, I love you Aaron Hotchner.“ I wept. Allowed to hear from the people surrounding us, broke out, we got up and he put The beautiful diamond ring on my finger and we embraced in a loving case. There was no doubt our proposal would be all over the Internet, the team will find out soon but that didn’t matter at this moment. Only we did.

We slowly made our way back to our hotel, Aaron holding my hand and spinning me in circles, showing how happy we both were. We didn’t say much in the elevator, our smiles did most of the talking. As soon as the door opened to our floor, I gave him a mischievous smirk and began running to our room. “Come catch me!“ I yelled.

“Oh just you wait!“ Aaron laughed and followed right behind.

Right as we reached our door he swooped me up and spun me around, us in a giggling fit. He carefully placed me down and tilted my chin up for a kiss. Because it was innocent at first, but quickly turned needy. He pulled away, opening the door to reveal our room, dimly lit with candles scattered across the room. Rose petals let a small trail from the doorway to the bed. I guessed in all my heart swelling with love. I turn my fiancé, adoration in his eyes, healing down, taking my lips into a sweet kiss. His slightly chapped lips contrasted with my last ones. I wrapped my arms around his neck in an attempt to deep in the kiss. His hands slowly found their place at the small of my back, trailing down just a little bit to give my ass a squeeze.

His tongue swiped across my bottom lip, asking for insurance. Or tongue stance does the candles flickered across the room. I took in the moment, the roses, the candles, my man, and the way he tasted; like mint. I pulled back, glancing into his eyes, all while biting my lip.

He slowly let me backwards towards the bed, until my knees made contact and I fell back, him gently hovering over my small frame. One of his hands roamed up my thigh, to my hip, agonizingly slow between the valley of my breasts, and then gliding over my bottom lip. I think him down into a kiss, his hand found one of mine in and released our fingers as I opened my legs, welcoming him between them. I could feel his hard against my clothes core, bucking my hips up to him, I ground the sensation. He froze for a second instead up, still positioned between my thighs. He ended his button up throwing it somewhere in the dark corner. He ran his fingers along the hem of my dress, looking at me for permission, not going any further, “yes, take it off Aaron,“ need soaked in my voice.

He carefully lifted the red fabric up over my hips and head, discarding it into the blackness. As he started to kiss my neck, finding my sweet spot, I frantically reached for his belt and I’m doing the buckle and tugging his pants and underwear down. As I began to stroke him, he left marks across my chest and breast, a small groan from me. cool let me take care of my future wife,“ he whispered as he trail down my body kneeling at the edge of the bed. He peeled off my panties and one motion. He started to bite and suck on my inner thighs, causing me to whine. “I know baby, I can I’ll give you what you want,“ he smirked as he pulled me closer to him and put my legs over his broad shoulders. He placed a small kiss to my clit, leading to me putting my hands in his hair and slightly tugging. He moaned, sending vibrations to my whole body. He swiftly added two fingers in my wet cunt, pumping them and scissoring me open. He spit up a little, grazing my G spot, causing the coil in my stomach to tighten dangerously fast. I no longer held back my moans, nothing but my voice and what sounds filled the room. “Baby, I’m so close, I’m gonna c-“ I came crashing down with a loud cry. My leg started to shake as he rode me through my high.

Aaron came back up to meet my lips. I tried to flip him on his back so I could taste him, but he stopped me, “we have all the Time in the world for that my love. I want to be inside you.“ He said in his sultry voice. He situated himself between my legs once again, unclasping my bra and reconnecting our lips in a rough kiss. Our tongues fight for dominance.

I reached down and grabbed his cock, rubbing it against my wet slit, eliciting a moan from him. “Quit teasing Y/n”

I guided him to my entrance and he fully sheathed himself in my pussy. I have never felt as full as I do now. With only seconds to adjust, he started trusting, setting a slow bit rough pace. Each other’s names fell from our mouth, along with gas in months. As he thrusted harder, I rake my nails done his back, causing him to tense and speed up a little. I attacked his neck, sucking and biting along his jaw, allowing him to become more vocal, “I don’t think I’m going to last much longer sweetheart.”

“Me too,” I took out. His trust became erratic and fast, so I reached between us and toyed with my clit, chasing my orgasm. I came with a scream of his name, “Aaron!”

Seconds behind me, he released his load inside of me, struggling to catch his breath. He was about to pull out of me when I stopped him. “Can we just stay like this for a little while? I want to remember this, and today.”

He chucked, relaxing and laying his head against my chest. Not long after, we drifted to sleep. aim loving embrace of each other.

To think, soon i’d be “Mrs. Hotchner.”

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotcher smut #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #smut #fluff

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lemonjoonah · 4 years

Text

In Need of Orders (M)

Pairings: Seokjin x Reader Word Count: 15K Rating: M Genre: Kingsman AU, action, drama, romance, smut, comedy, rivals to lovers Warnings: violence, swearing, public foreplay, slight dom/sub dynamics which interchange (Seokjin is a bratty switch), discussion of safeword, light bondage, masturbation, voyeurism, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, small amount of cum eating, sexism in the workplace, referenced death of minor character, Seokjin and reader are bad at feelings.

Summary: After a disastrous mission, which lead to the destruction of your prized invention and the compromise of his cover, Seokjin is confined to your base, and placed under your command. Now that he’s stuck with little to do, he uses his time to investigate a past you simply want to forget.

A/N: AU based off the Kingsman Series, originally written by Mark Miller. There’s a mix of tech origins, the com-glasses, and poison-pen, were from the movie and the rest of the inventions are my own creation. Members will occasionally be referred to by their titles but I try and use their actual name as much as possible, here’s a list of members/characters and their corresponding titles: Reader - Merlin | Seokjin - Galahad | Yoongi - Percival | Hoseok - Lancelot | Namjoon - (current) Arthur |

....

“No, no, no. NO! Seokjin, what did you do to my beautiful baby?!” You circle around what was once your wondrous invention. Your masterpiece of a vehicle that had taken years to get just right. When Yoongi dropped in a couple hours ago and told you to expect an unpleasant delivery you never could have imagined this. Unpleasant doesn’t begin to cover the damage done, this is an act of desecration.

“Merlin, titles please! Without manners we are nothing,” Seokjin chides you, paraphrasing the principal motto as if it will save him from your wrath. You’ve reached your limit with him; there's no benefit you can see in maintaining pleasantries.

“You will get my manners when you deserve them,” you growl back. “Now why did you sink my prized creation?”

“The cloaking device was faulty.” He shrugs off the loss like it’s nothing, no harm to him and therefore no foul.

“I find that hard to believe.” You’ve run this car through every test, checked every parameter, you would never have let it leave this workshop if it posed a danger to exposing agents.

“It was! I was conducting surveillance on a target when they became aware of my presence. They retaliated, so I needed a quick escape. I was on the overpass near the river, I knew there was a small oxygen tank in the glove compartment for emergencies-”

“So driving it off a bridge seemed like the best option?” You never thought you’d regret seeing the day you installed that safety feature, one that you intended for use in case of a gas or chemical assault, but here it is. “Tell me,” You look from your precious machine back to the monster who destroyed it, “What exactly were you doing when you noticed the glitch?”

“Just driving, maybe going around eighty. Does it really matter?” He sighs. “They saw me coming so I had to take cover or they would have shot me.”

“Oh no, it works perfectly fine.” Your voice starts to echo through the workshop as your fury bubbles over. “When the user reads the manual and understands that cloaking only works when in a stationary position. I am a scientist not an actual fucking magician Seokjin! Of course you can’t travel when cloaked. If you had at least skimmed the booklet I gave you, you would have understood that!”

The technology you created doesn’t make the car invisible, instead it projects the images behind it to make it appear that way. It can only account for and cover small changes in movement, not whole vehicles travelling. Only an idiot would think that it could compensate for such drastic shifts to the backdrop. And for some reason that moron dares to continue arguing with you.

“Booklet? That thing was a thousand pages long! You actually expected me to read that?” He counters his voice rising to combat yours.

“Oh, I’m sorry would you like me to make an audio-book for you next time? Or better yet I could make a grade school reader complete with pictures. Maybe that’ll hold your attention!”

There’s a sudden shift in his expression, with a thick smile forming on his face. “I suppose I wouldn't say no to a recording if it was read by you.” His words ooze with flirtatious mire, intent on sucking you in.

Seokjin’s smirks and one liners have gotten him out of trouble many times with other agents. It’s not hard to see why, the man could be considered the most attractive of all your acquaintances, but you refuse to let this drop simply because he’s batting his eyes in your direction. You grit your teeth and continue to chew him out. “Lancelot and Percival read it, I don’t see why I can’t hold you to the same standard.”

“Fine, fine I’ll look it over.” He huffs in surrender, but even in defeat he still carries a playfulness in his tone. “When do you think you can get it back up and running again?”

“If you think I’m going to take time out of my schedule to fix this, only for you to go destroy it again, you have some nerve.” You can barely even register the destruction let alone process how much time it’ll take to repair everything. With the dents in the body work, the flooded engine, and the electrics most certainly fried, you're looking at weeks of work just to make it drivable again. But bringing it back to its full potential? That will require months of tinkering.

“What could you possibly have to do that’s more important than this.” Seokjin is clearly trying to hold back a snicker, but when a small snort escapes him, all remaining control of your temper vanishes.

“Seokjin, so help me god if you don’t leave my line of sight in three seconds, I’ll do those men a favour and shoot you myself.”

He chuckles at your threat, “You’re not-”

“One.” You reach for your holster and take hold of your gun.

“Serious.” The laughter in his face starts to fade.

“Two.” You disengage the safety and take aim.

“You won’t actually shoot me.”

“Th-”

“At ease Merlin.” Yoongi interjects, entering the room with his face buried in a file. His indifference is a true sign of how well he knows you. You were only going to relieve Seokjin of a few strands of hair, but maybe it’s better this way. The sound of gunfire would surely result in a slight loss of hearing, and Seokjin already has trouble listening. You sigh, lowering your pistol.

“I can only guess you’ve both been discussing the...” Yoongi comments looking down at the remains of the car. “Accident.”

“More like negligence,” You mutter, flicking a bit of mud off what was once a perfect paint job.

“Listen, I tried Percival,” Seokjin appeals to Yoongi. “We’ve been looking for this guy for months. I had him in my grasp, I couldn’t risk losing him.”

“I know Galahad,” Yoongi rubs his brow as his gaze returns to the document in front of him “but there’s concern that you’ve been compromised, after reading your report there are worries that you might be identified and expose the operation. You’re on lock down for the remainder of the mission.”

“No! I’m so close to bringing him in. Just let me assist,” Seokjin pleads. You would probably feel bad for him if he hadn’t just gone and destroyed your life's work.

“The rest of the order doesn’t seem to agree. In fact they’ve called your work on this case,” Yoongi flips to another page of the file, “Reckless, irresponsible, and fails to even remotely represent their request for a covert operation...” He turns the file around to push it in Seokjin’s face. “And they’ve written those last two words in all caps, see?”

You chuckle quietly, covering it with a cough but Yoongi doesn’t look convinced. His gaze shifts to you as he hands down the rest of the directive. “Due to these recent events, Galahad is to remain here for the duration of the operation. Under your orders.”

“Wait, what?! Why are they punishing me too?”

“It’s not meant to be a punishment Merlin.”

“The fuck it isn’t. Why can’t Lancelot look after him? It was his idea to allow him on the mission.” You admire Hoseok greatly, but in your opinion it was a bad decision to add Seokjin to the roster for this operation.

“If Lancelot or I are seen with him then our cover will be blown too.” Yoongi reasons, “You’re the only one who operates completely behind the scenes.”

“But why do I have to be put under command of another agent?” Seokjin interjects.

“Because, you are clearly in need of orders until you can get your rash instincts under control. Just be grateful it’s not a complete dismissal.” Yoongi starts to step away with the matter settled.

There goes your peace and quiet. Unless... you call out to Yoongi with one last shred of hope. “Permission to put him under a gag order for every possible topic of conversation?”

“Denied, but nice try Merlin.” Yoongi smirks as he enters the elevator which will bring him back above ground.

Yep, you’re truly going to be living your own personal hell in such tight quarters. A small work den and communications relay located beneath a PC bang in the heart of Seoul. The base was never intended to host more than one for a long term stay. It’s purpose is for agents to stock up, gather their orders sent from headquarters, and then leave. The only person who actually stays on site is you. “Well then, the bedroom’s mine but you can take the sofa. Don’t touch what’s mine without my consent and we shouldn’t have a problem. Is that clear?” You lay down the rules quickly not wanting to prolong any further conversation with your new resident.

“Yes Ma’am.” Seokjin answers looking truly defeated for once.

“If you’ll excuse me I have work to do.”You brush past him towards your computer, needing to assess what components you’ll need to order first for repairs.

“Wait, what am I supposed to do?”

“You’re a big boy, I’m sure you can figure something out.” You respond keeping your eyes focused on the screen.

“Could you show me how to fix it?” His unusually quiet request manages to break your concentration.

“Fix what, the car?” You glance back at him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out his angle. “Why would I do that?”

“Well for starters I probably can’t fuck it up any more than it is.” He laughs but your lack of reaction kills his joke rather quickly. “It would cut down your workload. Give me a better appreciation for what you do. You would get to order me around. And who knows, you might even enjoy my company.”

He’s right, you could use the extra pair of hands, and he might learn something. “Fine, you can start by reading this.” You fling the tome of a manual at his chest, causing him to grunt from the impact. “Report to me when you're done.”

...

“How can you even call that a couch? I’ve seen footrests bigger than that disappointment.” Seokjin comments as he enters the workshop. You slide out from under your car to find his hands tending to the muscles at the back of his neck, and heavy bags resting under his eyes. It's the first time you’ve seen him exist at a fraction less than perfection in his appearance, a gratifying perk in this unfavourable situation.

“It’s all that would fit.” You grab a towel laying on the floor next to you cleaning the dark grease of the car off your skin. Usually you wouldn’t bother wiping it off just yet, but having Seokjin in your presence has made you oddly self-conscious. “You might have noticed space is limited here.”

“Then who’s idiotic idea was is to make a base in this shoe box of a hole?” He grills you, probably intending to roast the architect of such a small site.

“Mine actually. After the data breach a year and a half ago we needed something more secure. There’s so much information streaming to and from this location that it makes it difficult for anyone to find our dealings. It’s the perfect spot.”

“Perfect if you’re a mouse.” Seokjin takes a seat in your straight-backed desk chair. Groaning as his fingers continue to knead, moving down to his wide shoulders.

“Are you implying I’m some kind of rodent?” You glare up at him, ready to defend yourself against the slight.

“You should take it as a complement, mice are cute.” He gives you one of his famed smiles, the type where you can’t tell if he’s sincere or mocking.

“Why are you down here Seokjin?” You ask preparing to wheel back down beneath the undercarriage of your car. “I can’t imagine you’ve finished reading the manual already.”

“I did actually. This is me reporting for duty.” He throws the book down on to the floor next to you, marked and dog-eared. “Not a whole lot else I can do while on lock down.”

“Is someone upset that Lancelot and Percival get to have all the fun? Maybe it’ll teach you to obey orders better, rather than getting stuck here with me.”

“I can follow them just fine... when they don’t conflict with the completion of my mission.”

“Not getting spotted was part of your mission Seokjin.” Your response is dry as you state the obvious.

“Yes, but so is recovering the data from that breach, before he can unload it on someone else.”

“You don’t know that he has it. That’s why you had to observe him.”

“Listen to me, Hwang’s a fence, one whose been trying his best to stay off our grid, of course he has it. Once we find him we can track everything back to his source.” Seokjin’s confidence is admirable. You can’t deny that you would like to catch the one responsible for unleashing one hell of a computer virus that caused you and many others weeks of havoc and restless nights. The worst part is you don’t even know what they were able to get a hold of, the sooner Yoongi and Hoseok can track this man down the better.

“You still should have exerted more caution, you're not the only one on this team Seokjin, people can get hurt if you're too brash.” You’re surprised to find Seokjin nodding with his head hung low. Since when does he ever agree with you on something? “Now that you’re done with the manual, I do have work to assign that I doubt even you can mess up. Every single electrical circuit and wire needs to be removed, it’s unlikely that any have survived the flooding so it would be safer just to take them all out. I’m going to see if I can save the engine.”

Seokjin gives you a cheeky two finger salute before he sets to work behind the dash.

Thirty minutes later he’s already back at it with questions. “Do you have any speakers set up for music?”

“No, we could have used the car radio if you hadn’t submerged it, but here we are.” You usually work in silence anyway, but getting to deliver another stab of guilt is better than admitting your regular tendencies.

“Ah no problem, I can fix that.” At first you wonder if he intends to repair the radio, but when he proceeds to hum loudly, you realize that’s not the case. Instead he treats you to a selection of unrecognizable songs which you don’t bother to ask the title of.

You let it go for as long as you can, but thirty minutes later when you move from under the car to beneath the hood needing to drain the cylinders next, you finally raise the white flag in pursuit of silence. “Seokjin, please just stop okay?”

His chuckle taunts you, “That’s what you get for pulling a gun on me yesterday.”

“If you’re not careful I’ll do it again.” Your tone turns salty once you realize that is was his intent to torture your ears.

“Can’t believe you lasted that long, I thought for sure you were going to crack after five minutes of my melodies.”

“That’s what that was? I thought you jammed your thumb and were screaming out in pain the whole time.”

“Ha ha,” He retorts. You're almost upset when he goes quiet with nothing substantial to follow up your jab, but then he opens his mouth again. “How can you work when it’s so quiet?”

“Helps me focus when there’s no distractions.” You answer hoping that he’ll take the hint and remain silent.

“But doesn’t it get lonely?”

You slow your pace as you loosen the bolts on the gasket cover, choosing your words carefully as you make an attempt to side step that minefield of a query. “I work better when I’m by myself.”

“That wasn’t my question.” Seokjin catches on to your evasion proceeding to look around the hood of the car trying to meet your eyes.

“We all make sacrifices Seokjin. This is mine.”

“If you spoke to Arthur-”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try to cut him off quickly not wanting to get him involved in your circumstances, but he continues.

“I’m sure he would listen.”

“Drop the subject Seokjin, that’s an order.” You take a deep breath trying not to lose more of your composure again. “I chose to work in this place for several reasons. I don’t need to explain every one of them to you.”

Seokjin is surprisingly quiet for the rest of the day. It’s doubtful that you scared him off with your temper, he’s too confident for that. It’s more likely that he’s frustrated with you’re bickering. You hang back a bit more only giving direction when absolutely necessary. If you have to live with him you might as well attempt to make it bearable for the both of you.

That night you treat him to ramen from the business upstairs, they don’t usually do take-out but they make an exception for you. He sits across from you in a desk chair slurping his noodles while his eyes bore into you. “What, do I have something on my face?” You ask, starting to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

Seokjin takes another slurp of his dish before he explains himself. “No, I’m just trying to figure you out.”

“Please don’t.” You plead, not wanting to broach the same subject from earlier.

“You’re passionate about your work. You’re good at what you do. Your superiors trust you.” You groan with exasperation, nevertheless he persists. “You're lonely here. The order could put you anywhere and you would most likely excel, and yet you bury yourself here, in this hovel.”

“It’s not a hovel...” You mutter, but you’ve run out of energy to argue and your appetite has now vanished. Rising from your seat you bid him good night. “I’m going to bed. Clean up this mess when you're done, and try not to throw your neck out cramming yourself onto my couch again.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He gives a muffled reply with noodles hanging from his mouth, and another fake salute.

You shake your head as you close your bedroom door behind you.

...

“You know,” Seokjin bursts into your room early the next morning, startling you awake. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen test scores as high as these. Are you sure you’re not a magician Merlin, because these results seem too good to be true. ”

You bolt upright in terror, “What are you looking at?”

“The start of your journey with the Kingsman.” He wanders around to sit at the foot of your bed as you drag the covers up to your chest. “I figured if there was an answer I would find it here, but I’ve never seen such an impressive resume. The last Arthur had you pegged from the beginning as the successor to your predecessor, he even recorded that his candidate didn’t stand a chance against you. You should be proud of this...” He leans to you reading the expressions on your face. “But you’re not. You’re scared. Why is that?”

“Stay out of my files Kim Seokjin.”

“Is that an order?” He asks his face still only a couple inches from yours when it pulls into smirk, looking pleased that he’s caught you off guard.

“Yes.”

“If I recall,” He closes the document in his hands, but his analysis continues, “You were moved here just shortly after Namjoon took over the position of Arthur. You were living the life before, testing and training new recruits, doling out orders and information. But then you fell into this pit. What did you do to piss him off?”

“Nothing, ju-just stop asking, okay? I don’t need your help, so stop trying to save me!” Your voice cracks as it reaches the point of yelling but he doesn’t back away. “Staying here alone, that was my choice. So don’t you dare try to take my one salvation away from me.”

“I’m not trying to take it away. I just want to understand it.” He answers his tone controlled and calm while holding your gaze firmly in his. When you look away he finally gets up leaving you with your files on your dresser.

...

A week passes and Seokjin continues to try and figure out why you chose to work in your closed off environment. Throwing out random and bizarre questions on what you might have done to Namjoon to get yourself stationed here.

“Did you expose his guilty pleasure for stuffed animals?” He asks as he helps you unbolt and remove seats, making room for the new chairs and bench which just arrived.

“Does he have a guilty pleasure for such a thing?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you.” Seokjin states with a snicker.

“No.”

“Did you lose his glasses?’’ Seokjin inquires next as he pulls the seat from the driver side all on his own. You can’t help but notice the muscles straining through the back of his shirt as he lifts the heavy chair from its place. When he turns back around for the next you berate your pitiful self-control. Yes he’s attractive, but he’s also the current thorn in your side. God must be a sadist for creating this enticing man, with such a sharp tongue and a plaguing desire to mock you.

“He does that just fine himself, he doesn’t need me to do it for him.” In fact, you have two pairs on backup for Namjoon at all times, just in case such a need should arise.

“Did you sneak into his house and switch the sugar to salt in his tea set?”

“That’s just cruel,” You chuckle at the idea, making a mental note to check your own sugar before your next cup of coffee. “But no I didn’t.”

“Well that’s it then, I’m out of ideas for today.” He heaves the passenger chair next to the other with an exhausted breath. A bead of sweat drips down his brow as he collapses on the new back bench waiting to be installed.

“Really? I’m surprised. You haven’t asked the obvious question.” You lay the statement as bait hoping he’ll take hold so you can reel him in. To your delight, he does.

“Oh and what’s that?” His eyes light up, with the chance that you might actually tell him something informative.

“Did I destroy his favourite vehicle? I mean, that’s why you’re stuck here isn’t it?” Seokjin glares at you in frustration, his gloom making you giggle. “But the answer to that too is no, I didn’t. I’m not a scoundrel.”

“Is that what I am to you now,” He presents a gleeful smile with a raised brow. “A scoundrel?”

“Why do you look so proud about that?” Your question is full of judgement, but his delight is not swayed.

“Because, scoundrels are sexy.” He tilts his head and bites his lip with a nod as if to make a point.

You let out an obnoxious laugh. “Maybe to some. I fail to see the appeal.”

“Then what do you consider sexy?”

“Someone who’s attentive, and dutiful. You know, an adult.” You attempt to describe the very traits he appears to lack to make your point. Though Seokjin’s looks might draw you in, you are in need of something more.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Where’s the fun in that?”

“It’s not always about the fun, I just like someone who I can depend on.”

Seokjin’s about to respond, his mouth open with a solemn stare in his eyes when the elevator chimes. It’s doors open for you to find a haggard Hoseok with two black empty bags. You greet him with surprise, having completely lost track of time, he had mentioned that he would be stopping by to pick up supplies.

You hurry away to unlock and ready the stock. While Seokjin rushes in, barely even letting Hoseok off the lift, launching into an interrogation about the mission and any progress they’ve made. There’s only a few short words exchanged before the man left in your charge storms away slamming the door behind him as he exits the workshop to your common room.

“Lancelot?” You call out to Hoseok with hesitation, noticing that he’s still standing in place where Seokjin left him. Stepping in you help to take and load one of his duffles with surveillance equipment he requested. After Seokjin’s barrage he looks like he might rupture if you’re not careful.

“Please no formalities,” He sighs in exhaustion, while he too starts to pack up what he needs. “I would prefer not to be an agent right now, even if it’s just for five minutes.”

“That bad?” You wince for Hoseok’s sake, he’s usually so optimistic, it’s worrisome to see him so beaten down.

“We know Hwang’s back in Seoul, but any time we get a whiff of a more detailed location he vanishes. Yoongi and I have brought in more agents. We’re stationed in the south end of the city now, trying to keep an ear to the ground.” He zips up his case and then turns the conversation to you. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine I guess, but Seokjin’s been looking into my assignment here. He keeps trying to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.” Hoseok is one of only a few who know why you chose such an assignment, and you would like to keep it that way.

“Maybe you should give it a smack then. Or better yet put him on a leash.” Hoseok finally breaks into a smile as he pats you on the back.

“He’s not a dog Hoseok.”

“Really?” Hoseok raises his eyebrows as if it’s news to him. “Cause he looks at you with those puppy eyes all the time. I’m surprised you don’t see it.”

“I don’t need someone who doesn’t listen to me Hoseok.”

“Okay yes, that accident with the car was a major misstep on his part...”

“And the constant prodding into my past?” You groan, you were hoping Hoseok would have your back immediately. Why does he have to take the role of impartial referee when you need his bias the most?

“He probably thinks you’ve been wronged, and that you deserve better. Is it not natural to what's best for those we care about?”

You tilt your head starting to question your fellow agent’s sanity. “I doubt that’s the case Hoseok, he just likes to be nosey.”

“Fine, have it your way, live in denial. I’m sure he’ll be out of your hair soon anyway. But if I were you I would try and explain the situation. He might not be living here but you’ll still have to work closely with him in the future.”

“You’re saying I should tell him?” You challenge his suggestion, he must be overworked since he’s definitely not thinking clearly.

“I know it won’t be easy, but if he knows what’s really bothering you, he might try to be more tolerable.” He lugs the cases off the table crossing the straps over his chest.

“Either that or he’ll use it as ammo to really gun me down.” You curl your lip at the thought pacing behind Hoseok as he moves towards the elevator to head back above ground.

Before the door closes between you he holds it open to give you the support you wanted along with a sigh. “I really don’t think that’ll be the case. But if he does... I’ll be your witness when you tell Arthur you shot him in self-defence.”

“Deal.”

...

You find Seokjin on the couch with a pile of files and a coffee on the small table, his brow furrowed and his mouth pulled tight as he scans through each one at a rapid pace.

“I take it you weren’t happy with his update?” You call out as you enter the room advancing towards him.

“No, I wasn’t. They had to pull in lower level field agents because I can’t be out there to help them. We probably would have caught Hwang by now if I was still working on the case.”

“Seokjin, I have every camera in the city looking for him, there’s not much else we can do from here. And your not going out there to track-”

“I know I’m not Merlin. I just want this to be over so I can get my shot at redemption.”

You nod looking down at the files in front of him.“What are those?”

He lets out a panicked laugh as he tries to scrounge them together. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Seokjin.” You draw out his name with intent to reprimand, leading him to respond with a nervous grin. He shifts his hands away giving you a better view of what he’s up to.

“Since you said I couldn’t look through your files I thought I would take a general overview of those you’ve trained or worked with.”

You shake your head, tired of this never ending battle between the two of you. “You’re not going to stop are you?”

“Nope.” He takes a sip from his mug as he looks back down to the information he’s gathered. You scan through the names and pull out the file that haunts you to this day. Dropping it in front of Seokjin before taking a seat in the armchair across from him. He reads the name off the tab. “James Paxton the third, he sounds like a pompous prick.”

“Oh I can confirm he was, and definitely one of the most hard-headed recruits I’ve ever tested, but we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” You mutter as Seokjin opens his file to find the word deceased stamped in bold red letters. He stares up at you with his mouth agape, you can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out how this fits into your narrative.

“Why didn’t I hear about this?”

“It wasn’t really broadcasted through the regular channels, if you weren’t at the main headquarters you didn’t know about it. It happened just over a year ago.”

“I would have been in Lhasa...” Seokjin mutters.

You nod, not surprised that information flew under his radar. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but the last Arthur, he saw me as a bar for people to cross. He thought if recruits could take orders from a ‘bossy woman’ they could take orders from anyone. James Paxton didn’t pass that test, and he paid for it with his life.”

Thankfully for once, Seokjin doesn’t have a comment, instead he sits there, waiting for you to continue.

“Paxton thought me pushy, and overbearing, told me so to my face, several times in fact. I should have had him kicked out, but I was determined to prove him wrong. There was a mission to recover the stolen data a couple months after the breach. There was a lead, before we learned of Hwang. We thought we had the location of where the data had been transferred to. I was supposed to go on the mission, but at the last minute Arthur told me to direct the team from off site.”

Your hands start to shake as the story continues. A mixture of both anger and fear coursing through you. You shift to hide them beneath you, gripping your legs to keep your fingers steady, but they fail to escape Seokjin’s notice.

His eyes are downcast in shame. “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to Merlin. I’m-”

“You wanted to hear this Seokjin. I told you to leave it alone, I told you I didn’t want to talk about it.” You take a deep breath trying to rein in your anger, “Either you let me finish or never question me about my situation again.” He shuts his mouth instantly letting you continue. “It didn’t take me long to realize the lead was a trap once they got on site. I ordered a retreat, everyone else followed except for Paxton”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Seokjin interjects sitting on the edge of his seat.

“That doesn't mean I can’t be upset by it! Instead of trying to curb the discrimination the previous Arthur used it, and I didn’t even understand what he was doing until I lost someone. I found out that he enforced the idea among the recruits, that I was an overly authoritative woman, one who fails to take proper risks. Forget the fact that I am highly qualified, that I have more experience and knowledge of many of the situations than the other leaders, my lack of dick disqualified me from being taken seriously.” Seokjin falls silent again. He must realize that he too has failed to take you seriously in the past, then again, he’s that way with everyone else too.

“When Namjoon became the new Arthur shortly after, I was able to address my grievances. He was ashamed of his predecessor and wanted to do right by me, so I requested this place as a base. I wanted somewhere I could work on my own for the most part and not have to worry about people thinking me conceited or bossy. I needed a break from giving out orders.”

You finally finish to find Seokjin with a narrowed brow and clenched jaw. His tone matching the anger in his stance, “You’ve been here a year-”

“I know.”

“You’re telling me you’ve been punishing yourself for a year?” He’s question is poised with what looks to be genuine frustration, “Over two assholes who couldn’t understand how valuable you are?”

“It’s not a punishment, it’s a safety net.” You explain.

“It’s a cell!” He gestures around him. “You’re basically living in solitary.” You shift awkwardly not knowing what to say, and definitely not expecting this reaction. “Come on, we’re going out.” He orders, getting up from his seat and pulling you out of yours. “There’s a bar I know close by. I’m taking you out for a drink.”

“You think it wise for you to leave?” You question him, not knowing how else to diffuse the situation, not when your focus is drawn to his grip which wraps your shoulders.

“It’s only a couple blocks away. If we see anything suspicious I promise we’ll head straight back. It’s your call, but I think you could use a night out.” He pushes you in the direction of your bedroom. “Go change into something that doesn’t have oil stains all over it.”

You should probably put your foot down, there’s no saying what could happen. But seeing Seokjin act like this... maybe Hoseok was right, he actually cares. The problem is now that you can see this side of him you don’t want to lose hold of it just yet. “Fine, but if anything at all is amiss-”

“We’ll hightail it out of there, and barricade ourselves in here for the long haul.” He rattles off the promises. “Now go get ready.”

...

Seokjin maintains the persona of a caring companion as he drags you to his favourite bar in the city. “It’s quiet and the owner, Choi, is an old friend of Percival’s, he knows not to ask too many questions. There’s almost always at least one or two of us from the order or field agents hanging out there.”

He holds the door open for you to enter and you're greeted to the sight of a worn down ale house. A robust and stained wooden bar takes the focal point of the room, and there’s not a single other patron in sight. You can’t help but regret being forced to change out of your usual attire. You didn’t want to look out of place, but with no one here to take notice, your black dress it’s an unnecessary and uncomfortable gambit. Seokjin on the other hand looks very pleased to be back in his usual attire, a three piece suit that’s been confined to the closet while he’s with you in the workshop.

“Like I said, it’s quiet.” He chuckles while he helps you take off your coat.

From out back steps the barman to greet you. He’s an unexpected yet welcome gem of a sight among the rubble, a handsome face with a wide smile which he presents to you. You might have to stop by here again just to take in this view, maybe study some of the tattoos he has scattered across his arms.

“Choi not in tonight?” Seokjin asks after seeing your reaction to the man behind the counter. He must not be the usual staff, it’s a shame really, but it’s funny to see Seokjin look so displeased. Realizing that for once he might not be the most attractive person in the room.

“Oh you know him?” Your host inquires with surprise, “No he wasn’t feeling too good, probably will end up spending the night by a toilet from the looks of him. I offered to take over tonight so he could get some rest.”

“That was nice of you.” You extend the man a warm smile.

“I like to think so.” He responds while beaming back at you. Seokjin hastily gives both your orders, allowing the bartender to leave you with a lingering stare as he walks back to grab your drinks. Maybe your efforts with the dress weren’t such a waste.

Seokjin glares at the man, mumbling a few choice words from which you manage to pull the word, ‘Flirt’.

“He was just being nice.”

“My god you can’t read people when it comes to the way they look at you. You’ve clearly caught his attention...” Seokjin drops unexpectedly.

“I can read people just fine.” You bite back in confidence.

“Really?” He challenges you, leaning forward with a whisper, “Then I suggest you look a bit closer.”

The bartender hammers Seokjin’s drink down in front of him while he slides yours along gently, giving you a chance to inspect a stunning work of art on his hand, a flock of birds flying in formation following the trail between his thumb and index. He catches your stare and while you might be embarrassed at your lingering eyes he teases the skin of his lip between his teeth. “I’ll let you get back to your date.” He gives you one last flash of a grin as he backs away into what must be a stock room.

“It’s not a... date.” You start to explain but it’s reduced to a sigh once the man leaves your sight.

Seokjin presses a napkin to your mouth prompting you to look back at him in utter confusion. “Sorry, thought I spotted some drool,” He dabs the corner of your lips. “Just there.”

You steal the napkin from his hand and toss it on the bar. “Thank you for your concern.” You take a long draft of your drink refusing to look at your fellow agent.

“Someone must be thirsty.” He snickers, not bothering to keep his laughter hidden.

“What can I say, the refreshments at the base have been far from gratifying.” Your quip might be implied but it hits its mark with flawless execution.

“Hey!” The volume of Seokjin’s voice rises to a new level to aid in his defence. “I’ll have you know I’ve been called an acquired taste.”

“You’ll have to forgive my pallet for not meeting your standards then. I’m in need of something that goes down a bit easier.”

You take your victory in the form of Seokjin’s reddening ears and sputter from his lips. “After that confession, I’m almost sorry to be standing between you and that tall drink. Almost.” He reiterates with a wink.

“It’s probably for the best.” You sigh, finally dropping the banter. “He might be interested now, but I bet that would change pretty quickly if he got to know me.”

“I doubt that.” He whispers right before he takes a sip. You can’t be entirely sure that he intended you to hear his comment.

“Oh really? You’ve spent the past week in very close proximity with me. How would you describe me?”

“There’s definitely a mix of frustration, with a side agitation, and a need for provocation. ” You let out a heavy groan while he continues. “Now some might find those to be unlikable traits, but I’ve come to find them very endearing.”

You snort into your drink. “That’s the best joke you’ve told yet.”

Seokjin nods carrying the weight of a small smile on his lips. “What about me? I’d be curious to hear how you read my personality.”

“Are you sure about that?’

He nods, “Hit me with your best shot... if you can.”

He might think you unable to read people, but you can’t wait to prove him wrong. Your words spill faster than you intend, creating an improvisational soliloquy into his psyche.“You deflect with humor constantly, which in turn prevents anyone from getting close because they can tell what you truly feel about them. Can’t take an order without asking a question. You’re determined to a fault, but you also use that drive when you’re concerned that something’s wrong. Not letting anything rest until you’ve fixed what can be fixed.”

He holds your gaze, sitting there in silent disbelief before he comes to and lashes out, “Completely incorrect, it’s a wonder you became an agent.” He shakes his head with a scoff before finishing his drink in one sip.

“Nice deflection,” you counter. “I rest my case.”

He narrows his eyes and gives no response other than to call for another round.

...

After finishing the second you’re about to suggest your return to the base, but the frown on Seokjin’s face as he looks into the bottom of his glass stops you. It should be an unwritten rule that men who look as good as him aren’t allowed to pout. How are you supposed to remain in charge when he can disarm you in seconds with a simple jut of his lip? It’s the one tool in his arsenal he has yet to use, you can only hope he doesn’t realize how effective it is on you.

You’re quick to order the next batch, and half way through the third he poses a question that he must have been holding on to. “You said in your analysis that people have trouble reading me because of my humour, how do I act when I really like someone?”

“How would I know?” You raise your brow along with your drink.

“Then how do you think I should act? You know, so it’s not misconstrued as humour.”

“Level with the person, have a serious conversation for a fraction of a second.” It feels odd to be giving him your input on such a matter. Why would he ask this of you? And why do you mentally recoil when you start to think of him using that advice on someone else?

“If that's the case, I should probably tell you...” He leans in towards you, his face just inches away. Your heart stops as his hand reaches out to cover yours. He pauses there for a moment watching your expression, “I need to,” The gaps in his speech are big enough for your mind to flee from reality, creating a scenario where he admits... “I need to go use the facilities.” A half-hearted chuckle pours of him along with the words which break you from your daydream.

“Then go,” You snap, your tone surprising even to you. It’s not like you wanted to have a serious moment with him, right? But the pain in your chest says otherwise.

“Are you... I was just kidding around,” he stammers.

What did you expect him to say, that he thinks of you as more than just an agent, even more than a friend? Did you want him to close the gap and kiss you? Oh god, you did. You like him. You like Kim Seokjin, and right then and there you wanted him to confess the same to you.

“Yeah I got it,” you mutter back, trying to cover your internal shock. “That’s all you ever do.”

Seokjin gets up from his seat and heads to the washroom. Leaving you at the bar to contemplate his words.

You feel like you’ve fallen into every trap you told yourself not to. But that can’t be right, it’s not like you fell for his fake smiles or flirtation. You must be drunk, that’s the only explanation. How else could you ever think that he might actually hold even a shred of feelings for you. He feels sorry for you, that’s all, that’s why you're here with him now. And once he’s treated your wounds, once he no longer feels guilty, he can go back to flirting with you and everyone else to get whatever he wants.

The bell over the door chimes as a large group of people enter. You immediately look away, embarrassed by your current distress, turning your head to focus instead on the photos of the owner and his patrons pinned to the walls. Dabbing the corner of your eyes with the tip of your finger.

Despite the number of newcomers the bar still remains oddly quiet. From a group of six you would expect the volume of conversation to be a bit more boisterous. With your instincts and suspicions now aroused, you keep an eye on them in the mirror over the bar. Darting your eyes back to their reflection every few seconds, never wanting to linger too long. You’re about to throw away your apprehension, blaming it on your current level of anxiety on Seokjin, when something inexplicable happens.

As the man seated in the middle leans towards one of his companions for a chat, his hand rises to rub his long nose, and in what you can only describe as a rendering problem, it passes through. You try to remain calm grabbing your glasses from your purse, turning yourself slightly you manage to edge his face in the very corner of your frames. With the tap of your finger to the rim of the specs you launch an application you created but never had the need to use personally.

When you had first designed your car, Yoongi had complained that even with the locater he had difficulty finding the vehicle when he left it cloaked. It was a reasonable request that prompted you to create a function that scans for visual distortions and creates a digital replication of what lies beneath the camouflage. And now as you activate that function you find what Seokjin and the others hadn’t been able to track down for months, the face of Hwang.

He must be wearing what you can only guess is a variation on your technology, but instead of making his face invisible it projects different facial features over some of his own. It takes all of your restraint not to let out the swear taking up residence on the tip of your tongue. Why are they here of all places? Do they know that Seokjin is here? They look as if they’re waiting for someone. A potential mark, a seller, or maybe a buyer?

Regardless of motive if your colleague steps out of the bathroom he’ll walk right into their view. You pull your glasses off leaving them on the bar, and call out to the keep. “Would you mind watching my stuff for me?” You gesture to your coat and specs putting on a fake smile. “Don’t want to lose my seat.”

“Don’t worry.” He confirms with a soft tone along with a grin. “I’ll keep them safe.”

Gliding off the stool, avoiding the stares of the target and his men, you slip into the hall and behind the men’s room door. Thankfully Seokjin’s already at the sink by this point. You find him hunched over hands pressing down on the counter as he lets out a long sigh.

As he combs back his hair with damp fingers he looks up. Meeting your eyes in the mirror with embarrassment and disbelief, he lets out a small self pitting laugh. “Listen if you’re here to tell me off I get it, I didn’t mean-”

“Put your glasses on. You have them right?” You join him at the sink while his pity turns to confusion.

“What-”

“Just do it.”

He fumbles to retrieve them from his jacket pocket before sliding them on. You move in as close as you can, bracing yourself on his arms so you can speak into the receiver embedded. Seokjin looks taken aback but remains still as you encroach on his space. “Call Merlin, auto-connect override authorization 2769.” That creates a connection between the two glasses without you having to be there to answer it, allowing Seokjin to see the issue at hand.

“Fuck.” He whispers right next to your ear as you remain close, getting ready to call in for backup.

“My thoughts exactly.” You mutter, unable to decide if this is a stroke of good luck or bad. “Add secondary line, call Lancelot.”

Seokjin leans his head down so the speaker falls next to your own ear. It’s not the best connection with the audio from the bar, but at least you can hear Hoseok. “Merlin, Galahad. What- am I seeing this right?”

“Yes, Hwang’s at our location, Choi’s bar. We’re not sure of his purpose here, but he’s brought a few friends.”

“I can see that, but why are you both there?”

“Not the time. We’re in the restroom but not in an adequate state to take on so many and secure the target. How long will it take you to get here?” You try to gloss over your lack of sobriety, but Hoseok doesn’t fall for the guise of your paraphrasing.

“Not in an adequate state huh? That’s an expression for drunk I haven’t heard before. Sending a message to Percival, I can have him and the team on site in 10 minutes. Can you maintain your current position?”

“Yeah small problem with that...” Seokjin comments.

“I heard it too, maintain cover at all cost. We can’t scare them away.” Hoseok’s voice flutters, sounding almost nervous.

“Heard what?” You can barely make out Hoseok’s words, let alone the taproom.

“Someone’s coming to check the bathrooms. They’re looking for any people of interest.”

“We could try slipping out the back door,” You offer.

Only for Hoseok to throw a wrench in your suggestion. “If it’s a business dealing they might have people posted there.”

“We need a distraction then?” You ask and Seokjin returns with a nod. Just hiding in a stall won’t do either, they’ll likely wait for the occupants to come out. You have to make them uncomfortable enough to leave without looking too close. You’ll probably regret what you're about to do later, but right now your options are limited.

You reach out and grip Seokjin’s shirt, drawing him into you so he has you pressed against the counter. He catches on quickly, putting his hands on your waist he lifts you up and onto the marble surface. “Make it look good Seokjin. Shouldn’t be hard for you to put on a show, you’ve had so much practice with me already.” His act of concern, and portrayal of affection have shown you he should do just fine when it comes to a performance of lust.

“It wasn’t my intent to toy with you.” He growls back before snatching your mouth with his, forceful enough to ensure swollen lips and smudged lipstick. One of his hands rises to your hair pulling the elastic out of place. Allowing his fingers to weave between the strands, he delivers a slight tug to your roots while you drag your teeth across his bottom lip.

You push his suit jacket off his wide shoulders, throwing it down on the counter next to you, before forcefully opening the top of his shirt, accidentally ripping the button off his collar in the process. He pauses his assault on your mouth for a moment, investigating the damage you imposed.

“It wasn’t my intent to destroy your shirt, but here we are,” You explain unfastening the next two buttons with a bit more care. Your fingers dip under the crisp white cotton of his shirt, raking visible lines down his chest. “Take responsibility for your actions for once. Tell people your true intentions or you will hurt them.”

“You want me to know my intentions? Fine.” He unzips your dress a few inches to bare your collar and shoulders before his lips target your neck. You close your eyes letting your head roll back. “I want this.” Seokjin grabs your upper thigh compelling a gasp to escape you. “I want you.” He confesses the same time the door creaks open.

There’s not much movement from Hwang’s lackey. Your new audience doesn’t come in far, instead he freezes in place when he spots the both of you. Seokjin addresses him in a gruff manner without turning his face away from you . “It’s not a free show buddy, take your piss and leave.” The man clears his throat, turns round and closes the door in his wake, leaving you once alone with Seokjin. Though revelling in his soft bites to your neck, gaining back your composer is a more pressing matter. “I think he’s gone.”

“We can’t be too sure,” Seokjin counters your observation as he continues to nip at the column of your throat. “He might come back.”

“Shit, I just lost visual of the bar.” Hoseok interrupts much to your embarrassment. You somehow forgot he was on the com-line during your effort to teach your fellow agent a lesson. “We’re running blind, maintain cover for now.”

“See?” The breath of Seokjin’s laughter is felt on your skin as he wins the debate.

“You really want to keep going with this?” You’re surprised, just a few minutes ago the man was making you the butt of his joke. Why the change?

“I wouldn’t mind. I’m just sorry we couldn’t be somewhere more intimate, or private.”

“You and me both,” Hoseok deadpans.

“Lancelot, I suggest you find something else to watch while we maintain cover as directed,” Seokjin instructs. You find his mouth back on yours before he gets a response on the com.

He’s right though the circumstances are less than ideal for a romp. The damp counter beneath you, the flickering fluorescent lights, and the out of order stall in the corner are all enough to make you cringe. No part of this is glamorous except for the man standing in front of you, which makes him all the more appealing. “We could just lock the door you know.” You offer a logical substitute plan. “I’m sure after what they’ve seen they would understand and we could stop this charade.”

“But where’s the fun in that? I’m sorry but I am too dedicated to this cover. I want to see it through.”

“Percival’s team will be dropping in two minutes.” Hoseok cuts in.

“Yes sir,” Seokjin mumbles against your lips while he responds to Hoseok, not dwelling on the interruption. “We should probably make the act more realistic, you know gasps, moans, they might be listening.”

You highly doubt that, but if he wants to play, fine. You’ll show him what he’s missing when he casts you aside. “You first.” You respond, tugging him between your legs, causing the hem of your dress to ride back. His cock erect beneath his pants and pressing against your clothed core. He lets out a groan of relief. “So unlike you to be already standing at attention.” You tease him.

“What can I say, you bring out the best in me,” he gasps in response.

Seokjin takes your legs in his hands driving your dress even further up your thighs as he proceeds to grind against you. He tilts his head with a smile while you react. “Too far?” He whispers.

You shake your head. If only he knew what he would find if he pulled your underwear aside. Your cunt, committing the ultimate treason against your better sensibility, is ready and willing. If he’s not careful he might get a darkened spot on his suit pants.

As one hand slides further up the inside of your thigh, the other takes your chin directing you to meet his eyes. His fingers tease the edge of your underwear making their presence known and as he waits for permission to go further. You nod back at him. His fingers slip behind the strip of fabric, separating your sopping slit from the damp material. “Looks like you’re well prepared too Merlin.”

“I guess so,” You tease, “Do remind me to give a big tip to the bartender for that.”

“I have a hard time believing that none of this belongs to me.” Seokjin murmurs back to you, but just as his knuckles graze your slick folds and clit, Yoongi announces his team’s arrival. “Another time I guess,” Seokjin whispers with a final kiss to your cheek. He helps you off the counter and pulls down your dress to a more respectable length while he takes one last stroke of your thigh.

“I take it’s safe to restore visual now?” Hoseok asks with a hint of laughter. You’re never going to hear the end of this. “Percival’s about to enter, I do suggest locking the door this time though. In case anyone does make a run for it, we’ll catch them outback. I don’t want you two engaging in this capture if you don’t have too.” You roll your eyes over Hoseok’s word choice. “Galahad, give Merlin the glasses. I want her input on the scene.”

Seokjin hands off his glasses to you and proceeds to lock you both in.

“Where are they stationed?” You inquire trying to get a full view of the task now at hand.

“The majority including Percival are entering through in the front, and a couple men out back, there was no one there so they must not be expecting a scene. Were there any civilians on site?”

“Just the barman.”

“Okay hang tight.” Hoseok orders.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be helping?” You ask, wanting to distract yourself from the tension between you and Seokjin.

“Nah, Percival’s got this. Besides I saw your reflection and you’re looking a little flushed Merlin, you doing okay?”

“Shut up Lancelot,” you grumble back in a muffled tone.

“Was it the alcohol or was it Galahad?” Luckily Seokjin was too far away to hear Hoseok's last question letting you ignore the comment as the team makes their entrance. Yoongi’s glasses give you the full view of what he sees. Hwang, much to your surprise, actually looks interested in the presence of the new arrivals. They’re obviously waiting for someone to show, but it’s clear that they have no idea who to look for.

“Don’t jump on the arrest so fast.” You direct, looking to gain any positive out of this awkward mission. The reward very much outweighing the risk. “You might be able to get some information first. Come off as a buyer, they might be trying to move the information or the tech.”

“You heard her Percival, get as much as you can before we make the catch.” Hoseok confirms your plan back to the rest of the team.

You watch barely drawing breath as he takes a seat across from the target. Hwang opens up the conversation first, “I didn’t think you would bring so many men just for a demonstration.”

“I prefer not to take any chances.” Yoongi’s response is blase, as he beckons the barman over to give his order.

Hwang looks uncomfortable, for someone with a product to sell he’s lacking the usual confidence that you would expect to see. “Well this should provide for your needs then. You ask me to come to the thick of their territory and as you can see I’m still here.”

“You are, but how do we know they aren’t waiting to make a strike? Have you ever seen one?” Yoongi pushes, he must be taking great enjoyment out of finally being able to pull one over on the man who’s kept them searching for so long.

“I have, once, but I’ve been able to keep myself hiding for months with this.” He taps something a bud placed in his ear. It must be what’s projecting the image overlay on his face disguising his true features. “Camera’s can’t pick up my face underneath, it’s better than any mask you can buy, as requested.”

“Where did you get the tech?”

“You-” The man pauses, his brow furrows before his expression shifts to a blank slate. He makes a subtle reach for his jacket pocket, but Yoongi is quicker on the draw. Lunging across the table he grabs the back of Hwang’s neck and smashes his head down on the table.

It’s hard to see the rest of the fighting with only Yoongi’s perspective. You catch flashes of the scene as the target’s men retaliate. There’s a flurry of pint glasses to distract as firearms are drawn. Broken shards scatter the establishment as the bartender flees away from danger towards the back exit with a phone to his ear.

The altercation ends rather quickly, with those who are still conscious held at gunpoint by Yoongi’s men. It’s a relief to see the target secured, and the tech recovered, but you are left with disgust after having your own work be used against your team.

Hoseok gives you the all clear to leave, but you're not sure you're ready to face the others just yet. “Could you give me a minute?” You request from Seokjin as he goes to open the door. He gives you a nod along with your hair tie, while you hand back his glasses.

“Yeah, I’ll just go... fetch our coats.”

“Could you find my glasses too while you’re out there Galahad?”

He freezes for a fraction of a second before giving you a hesitant response, “Yeah... yeah sure thing.”

What, no funny retort? No rebuttal? You thought calling him by his title would cause him to taunt you a little, but nothing comes of it. “If you can’t find them, the barkeep might have them.” That’s probably why the signal went dark, he must have moved them for safe keeping.

“Great. Just who I wanted to see.” He responds with a forced smile and gritted teeth.

“If it’s that much of a problem I’ll go get them back myself.”

Seokjin leaves you with a grunt, “No, no, I’ll go see the cowardly Casanova.”

The second he opens the restroom door you can hear Yoongi shout a request. “Galahad can I leave the team out back in your care? I need to move out and take this thief to Arthur for questioning.”

Hwang had apparently regained consciousness, and starts arguing in his defence. “I didn’t steal that data! I just set them up with someone to make their tech. They were supposed to come here, they asked for a demonstration here and then stood us up!”

Yoongi chooses to ignore him while he continues to give orders to Seokjin. “Make sure they drug the civilian, and then toss him behind the bar. Shouldn’t need to do much more than that, it already looks like standard bar brawl damage.”

“That I can do,” Seokjin responds with satisfaction as he steps out letting the door close between the two of you. It’s amazing how much one flirtatious bartender appears to have got under his skin.

You take a few minutes to straighten yourself in the mirror. Tying up your hair and closing the zipper on your dress when you spot several smudges of lipstick across your skin. You reach blindly for the paper towel, only to knock your purse to the floor in the process. A couple items roll away. Your pen, to your frustration, makes it all the way into the out of order stall. As tempted you are to leave it, you know it wouldn’t be wise to have something so lethal on the floor of a public bathroom.

With a groaning you crouch down, peering through the couple of inches between the stall door and the floor. Finding the missing item next to a pair of well worn leather shoes. You throw yourself back in shock grabbing your pistol from your overturned clutch, taking aim at the door bearing the sign. With a swift kick you force the stall open, and there passed out on the toilet is the man from the pictures behind the bar, the owner that Seokjin was asking after.

“Shit.” You lower your gun as you run out of the bathroom calling out for back up. The bar is deserted though, Yoongi’s team has already left, forcing you to head down the long hall to the back door alone. You slow your steps as you reach the end of the corridor, starting to pick up bits of conversation between Seokjin and the imposter. You keep yourself plastered to the wall trying to assess the situation with a narrow view through the window next to the door.

The once friendly bartender points a gun at Seokjin. The other agents, those that were supposed to be keeping an eye on the ‘civilian’ are out of commission, all laying on the ground around him.

“Call her out here, now.” The barman still holds onto his smile as he makes his demand, but now it only gives you chills as you try to puzzle out the motive behind it.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Seokjin keeps his hands at eye level, he’s trying to play the role of innocent bystander but that’ll only get him shot if he’s not careful.

“The woman with you, that was Merlin, was it not? She designed this tech didn’t she?” He lifts your glasses for Seokjin to see. “And created the original cloaking program. I never should have outsourced it, she saw right through their guise. Since their product was faulty, I’ve been given a new directive.”

“Merlin? You mean like the magician in the old tales? Trust me that woman is nothing of the sort.” Seokjin is actually now chuckling despite having a gun held to him.

“Very well, if you won’t comply. We’ll just have to go retrieve her together.” He gestures Seokjin to the door with his gun. “After you.”

You shift yourself into position behind the door, when Seokjin opens it you remain concealed on the other side. Your fellow agent steps through, moving backwards to keep his eyes on the assailant, allowing him to spot you once he’s inside. You raise a finger to your lips holding your gun to your chest. You can’t let him give off any indication that he’s seen you.

When Seokjin’s a few feet down the hall the aggressor proceeds to follow, and once his arm crosses the threshold you ram your full weight against the door. There’s a howl of pain as you trap his forearm in the door frame. The gun drops from his hand and hits the floor. Seokjin moves first taking the weapon and then the arm of the man who pointed it at him. You release the door and Seokjin drags the enemy in, throwing him against the wall. There’s a sickening crack as his head meets the concrete behind him.

Though his body is now lip and eyes in a daze he still chuffs when he spots you, “So nice of you to join us Merlin, we were just talking about you.”

Seokjin pulls back a fist letting land on the man's face with the full force of a brutal punch, finally sending the culprit into a comatose state.

“You okay?” You ask, noting his unusually rigid composure.

Seokjin nods, straightening his jacket as he lets the imposter fall to the floor. “Looks like I was right, you did catch his attention.” He boasts, with levity returning to his voice. “How did you know to come find me?”

“Found Choi, right where he said he’d be too...” You watch as Seokjin crouches down to retrieve your glasses from the man. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know, but I doubt he works alone.” Seokjin comments while staring at the tattoo that had caught your eye earlier, a flock in the shape of a V.

...

Yoong makes a return trip, picking up the new captive as well as aiding the unconscious agents. The detainees will be moved to headquarters where they’ll be held for questioning before they’re turned over to the authorities along with a list of transgressions and admissible evidence.

After returning from the bar your base is busier than ever, with everyone following standard procedure and filing reports. There’s hardly room to move, let alone have a private moment with Seokjin to discuss what transpired. A full night and day go by with you only being able to lock eyes with him across the room. As much as you want to talk to him, your duty comes first, ensuring that everyone receives their new orders after the unusual turn of events.

You retreat to your room after a long day of report processing. There are still a few statements left to grab but those can be done tomorrow. The first recordings of the interrogation have come in and you're desperate to hear what Hwang has to say about the tech you found him with. To your delight it’s that exact question which Namjoon poses first.

Hwang rattles off the information, needing little prompting, they must have already cut a deal. “I was contacted by an anonymous client over a year ago, they asked if I might know of someone who could utilize a cloaking program they had picked up, and apply it to something else. They wanted a mask, a way to hide in plain sight. I offered up a tech company who does some backwater dealings in armaments and weapons, and became the middleman between the two parties until the project was finished.”

“And you have no idea who hired you?” Namjoon asks. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Their wallet was big enough their identity wasn’t a concern, my main contact only referred to himself as V. He called me to the bar last night to provide a final demonstration to prove it worked before his agency made the purchase.”

Seokjin was right, Hwang was just a fence. Which would confirm the other man part of the group who orchestrated the data breach.

You switch between the video files, hoping to find the other more enlightening. In the very centre of the shot sits the man dubbed as V. He answers none of the questions directed to him. Minutes pass while he remains silent looking directly into the camera with a jeering grin and narrowed eyes. It’s off putting to say the least, no offer or deal can sway him to spill his knowledge. He looks content almost as if this is exactly where he wants to be. While the interrogators become increasingly frustrated, his smile only grows wider.

You close out of the recording unable to take the silent stares any more. There’s nothing in his file they’ve attached other than physical attributes. As you search the empty pages for a scrap of knowledge, a call request comes in from Arthur. You throw on your glasses answering in haste hoping he’ll have something new to share.

“Sorry to bother you so late. It’s been quite a day.” His voice is full of cracks and weariness.

“It’s no problem. I can only imagine after seeing the footage. Any new information on who this man works for?

“No, nothing.”

“Oh,” Your voice echoes in confusion, “Was there something else you needed? Did you get my report?”

“Yes I did, thorough as usual. But it’s not your report I wanted to discuss.” Namjoon pauses again. ”I received an unusual request from Galahad at the end of his. I wanted to talk it over with you before I gave my answer.”

“Go ahead.” You cringe fearing what he might have said in his statement.

“I freed him from lock down, and offered a new assignment, but he requested permission to stay and assist you with the vehicle repairs until they were completed. I would permit his extension, but I don’t believe that the answer to this decision rests fully with me, so I’m leaving it to you.”

“Don’t you need him back in the field? We don’t know who this man V is, or who he’s working for.”

“And it’s doubtful that we’ll learn anything more anytime soon unless he starts answering our questions. There’s little direction in where we can take the investigation right now. I don’t have anything that requires urgent attention, that’s why the choice is yours to make. If you need help or want assistance he’s offering it to you.”

“Thank you sir,” You’re grateful that he has left you with the final decision on the matter. “Would you mind if I spoke to him first before I decide?”

“Not at all.”

...

You creep out into the common area, Hoseok is splayed out on the couch while Yoongi’s curled up on the armchair, but Seokjin is nowhere to be found. Did he leave the base taking advantage of his newly acquired freedom?

You doubt you’ll be able to sleep, not with the questions you have running through your head. Looking to keep your mind busy you descend the stairs and enter the passcode to your workshop, only to find the lights already on and Seokjin’s long legs sticking out from under the car. There’s a swear and a clang of a metal tool hitting the cement floor. You hold back a laugh as you approach, choosing instead to surprise him by pulling on the roller bed to tug him out from beneath the car.

The initial shock on his face quickly changes to a smug grin. “I guess I’ve been caught.”

“Trying to sabotage my work again?”

“No, if you can believe it I’m actually trying to be an aid rather than a hindrance.”

“I’ll alert the media.” You fire back before diving into the more serious topic at hand. “I just got off the line with Arthur. He said you’ve been cleared to return to duty...”

Seokjin’s face falls slightly as he sits up on the rolling platform, “Oh-”

“But you also requested an extension here.”

“I did.” He looks up at you with sincerity, one that’s rarely seen on his face. No deflection to humour. This is just him.

“I need to know why.” You keep your expression even, not wanting your feelings to influence him in any way.

“I want to help fix the car.”

“I need more of an explanation than that Seokjin. A few days ago you couldn’t wait to get out of here. ” This is it, there’s no room to spare feelings. He’ll tell you he feels guilty, or that he feels sorry for you, leaving you to send him on his way and that will be the end of this trial.

“I don’t want things to go back to the way they were before. I like working with you, being here with you. You're not afraid to let me know when I’ve crossed the line.”

“So what, you just want to use me to keep you in check? I’m not here to fix you Seokjin.” You start to back away ready to send word to Namjoon that he’s free to assign him elsewhere when Seokjin grabs your hand, he rises from his spot on the floor in a rush to stand between you and the door.

“That’s not what I meant. You make me want to be better.”

You pull yourself from his grip backing into the side of the car, “And after you’ve used me to better yourself, what then? You’ll just move on to your next project?”

“No, fuck... I don’t know how else I can say it other than I like you Merlin. You aren’t the plan, you’re the objective.” He pauses for a moment, watching as his words sink in to you. “If you’re not interested in what I want to offer... I get it, but stop being so blind when it comes to yourself!”

You fall still as you hear his confession, but you’re not ready to believe or condemn his words just yet. “If that’s the case why did you mock me at the bar?” Your voice wavers as you question him. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I was going to, but I didn’t think you would appreciate a drunken confession. You wanted a serious conversation, here it is. I want to stay here with you. Even if you’re not interested in a relationship, I respect that, but I still think we could both benefit from working together.”

He’s right, you might have believed him right then, but later, once the effects of the alcohol had worn off you would’ve thought it another game of his. You shift against the car embarrassed by your misreading of his motives, but pleased to see that they fall in line with your own.

“I wouldn’t say that I wasn’t interested...” You mumble your own confession carefully as he shifts in closer to his mouth catching a grin when he hears your words. “But staying would put you in a problematic position when you’re required to follow my orders. If we’re to continue down this path there wouldn’t be an equal power dynamic.”

“Good.” he mutters along with a chuckle. “Is that your only objection?”

“Yes, but-”

“Arthur released me from under your command. Any order you give will be discretionary.”

“Discretionary orders?” You scoff. “You can barely follow mandatory orders.”

“Yes but it solves your problem, doesn't it? This way you can be sure that I will only follow an order if I want to.” He leans in placing his hands on either side of you on the hood of the car. “So Merlin, do you want me to stay?”

“Yes...”

“Do you want to continue what we started yesterday?”

You nod biting your lip at the thought of it.

“Then I await your orders.” He stands still not moving an inch while you remain caged between his arms and caught in his eyes.

“Let’s be clear on something first,” You state, trying not to focus on how close his lips are or how soft they’ll feel when they touch your skin.“I don’t want you to think you are in any way saving me.”

“I am well aware of that now. I finally realise I need you to save me.”

“From what?” You can’t help but laugh at his conclusion.

“My impulsive actions.” He lifts you onto the car just like he lifted you onto the bathroom counter. “My runaway mouth.” He closes the distance for a swift kiss. “And my very unprofessional desires.” His fingers flirt with the bottom of your shirt taking up residence underneath the garment against the skin of your waist.

“Yet you combat every effort when someone tries to restrain those tendencies,” You scold with a smile.

“You told me yourself I don’t go down easily... If you want to put me in my place you’re going to be more commanding.”

“And you would like that?” You ask in disbelief.

“Why don’t you find out...”

“Seokjin I-I don’t know if I-” You start to panic, stammering at the thought of going too far and becoming what others have thought of you before, “I don’t want you to hate...”

“If I need to stop I’ll tell you to brake. But right now I really want you to take the wheel, and put your foot down. No detours, just floor it.” He tightens his hold on you leaning in next to your ear with a growl. “Don’t get shy on me now. Give me your orders.”

The cheek in his tone at last sets off the need for retaliation in you, evoking a desire to finally see him begging you for more. He’s never backed away from you, leaving you with no reason to believe he’ll do so now. If this is what he wants you’ll be happy to try and make him submit. “You can start with losing this.” You tug on his grease stained shirt. “And these too.” Dragging your finger over the waist of his jeans.

He strips looking eager to play along. Leaving him in a pair of black boxers clinging to his swelling girth. “Like what you see?”

“You’ll do.” You snicker back at him. You take the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss, as he moves to hold your lower back. He finds his way between your thighs once again but this time there’s nothing to stop you both from going further.

“Do you want to take those off?” You brush your hands on the elastic of his underwear.

“Yes.” His answer is short and sweet, with nothing to misinterpret. You could get used to this side of him.

“Then you’ll have to do something for me first.” You shift your pants down kicking them to the floor. Taking one last kiss of Seokjin’s lips before pressing his shoulders down to make his mouth level with your hips. The grin he gives is something to revel in, finally seeing it as a sign of desire rather than a farce.

He pulls your underwear to the side. The first lick is short and sweet causing you to flinch from the flick of his tongue. The second he takes care in following the line of your slit but he doesn’t pull away at the end, instead he latches on to your clit taking deep drags which pull you under in an instant.

Your hand reaches out to grip his hair needing something to hold on to and hold him back with if necessary, but once your fingers tug at Seokjin’s locks he moans into your flesh. His hands pull you closer to the edge of the car allowing him to bury himself even deeper.

He slowly gains a rhythm with his tongue and lips, but every time you come close, when your breathing becomes shallow he starts to pull back. He’s teasing you, clearly goading you to become more strict with your desires.

“No more games Seokjin. If you can’t get me there in the next minute, I promise you’ll regret it.”

He pulls away for a moment to draw breath while giving you a taunt. “I’d like to see that.”

He’s about to return to his task when you push him back, no longer giving him the chance at redemption. You point to a straight back chair facing away from you , “Sit down, with your head forward.”

He does as you ask with a smile still stuck to the corner of his mouth. You slide off the car and move behind him towards your work desk, stripping off your shirt, and undergarments as you stray from his line of sight. Grabbing something from the inventory closet before you return to him, still hiding from his gaze .

He tries to look back at you but you put a stop to that. “Did I say you could look around?”

“No ma’am.” He chuckles back.

“Since you like games so much I thought of one to play. Give me your hand, and tell me what I put in it without looking.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with-” You cut off his complaint quickly by placing the metal object in his hand reaching out behind him. “Handcuffs?” Seokjin questions with surprise. “I stand corrected, this seems like a fun game.”

“Put them on,” you order. He complies instantly, letting you check the tightness once he’s done. “Safey’s there if you need it. Just tell me to brake.”

“Oh no, I’m quite comfortable thank you.” He grins proudly as if this is what he was hoping for all along.

As you move in front of him finally gracing him with your nude form he stares back at you dumbfounded. You reach out to the corner of his mouth, which sits agape, wiping at the edge of his lips with your thumb. “Sorry I thought I spotted some drool.” Seokjin smiles at your mimicry and jab, but he has no words to follow with.

You kneel down in front of him, your hands trailing up to reach for his boxers. “May I?”

“Please do.”

You tug them down releasing his erection from the confines of the fabric. You're careful not to touch him, not wishing to give any satisfaction or stimulation. Once they’re pulled down to his ankles you move to the uninstalled backseat of the car sitting right across from him. Seokjin furrows his brow in confusion.

“Something wrong?” You prompt hoping to have him admit that he wants you to return to him.

“No, just admiring the view.”

“Really?” You persist in teasing him a little more, “Because it looks like you need something.”

“Only to know the next step in this game of yours.”

“You get to watch while I play.” You lay back on the car bench resting your feet on the soft leather. Your hand moving down between your legs picking up where Seokjin left off, with a slow rub to your crest.

“That seems unfair.” He flexes his arms, testing the cuffs as he watches you.

“That’s what happens when you don’t read the instructions, I get to make the rules.” He lets out a groan as you close your eyes ready to concentrate on your own pleasure. You know you’re wet enough already but for good measure and Seokjin’s torturous show you prep your fingers in your mouth before slipping the tip of your index finger inside yourself.

There’s a small whine from Seokjin, you look over to him, your eyes take a moment to focus on his face, his teeth digging into his now swollen bottom lip. “Let me help you, please.”

“That’s not how punishments work Seokjin. You had your chance, and you disobeyed.”

Giving him a side profile allows your thigh to hide the sight of your fingers dipping in. The sounds though, those are his to enjoy. You continue to satisfy yourself for a while longer enjoying the little jots of pleasure you can give yourself and Seokjin’s moan every time you twitch. It’s hard not to pay attention and give in to returning to him. With his cock pulsing against his leg with a drop of precum growing at the tip. His lip must be sore with how hard he’s biting down.

Unable to ignore his whimpers any longer you get up from the leather bench. You present your fingers to his mouth damp from your ministrations. You don’t even get the chance to ask before he takes them into his mouth and licks them clean. When you pull them from his lips, he beams back at you. “Was that attentive enough for you?”

“Very...” You commend him, straddling his legs facing him as you lower yourself. Your hand grips his cock while the other rests on his shoulder balancing yourself as you guide him inside.

He gasps out a swear along with your real name as you sink down fully onto his lap. You lean into him letting your chest push against his as you rise and fall on his shaft. Pressing and grinding yourself against his seated form has him throbbing inside of you. He’s quickly become a breathy mess beneath you, a sheen of sweat covers his forehead, with even more dripping down his pecs.

Your pace increases in speed as you edge closer to your climax. The warmth begins to spread to your extremities as you continue to thrust down. When the wave finally washes over you can barely move. “Fuck-” You whisper along with a plea. “Don’t you dare come yet.” You collapse against him riding it out, clenching while Jin groans.

“Take the cuffs off.” His moaning request is impossible to deny. As fun as it was to see him at your mercy you long to have his hands back on you.

You reach for the restraints behind his back, with a quick press of a hidden release he’s free. Wasting no time he grabs you, helping your legs to wrap around his waist. Positioning you securely against him, he rises to move two steps required in order to ram you back down onto the car bench.

He pulls one leg up and over his shoulder while he holds the other level with his hip. Despite your sensitivity, he’s relentless in his thrusts, pushing you directly from the wave you just finished and on to the next.

He’s so close to his end, his muscles tense, his face stern with a clenched jaw, it takes a moment for you to realize he’s waiting for your permission. He’s holding back until you give him the okay. “You can come Seokjin.” Upon hearing this his thrusts suddenly hit harder forcing you to cry out. “Fuck, please come.”

He shudders with the last impact. Releasing your legs, he lowers himself onto you while his cock still pulses inside. His head rests on the seat beside yours, the hot air from his heavy pants flows down your neck as you lay there trying to catch your own breath.

“I think we might have ruined the new car seat.” You chuckle at him, your laughter restricted by the pressure of his body on your chest. “I should probably order another.”

“And miss out on Hoseok’s expression when he realized what the stains are from?” He nudges closer, kissing the spot behind your ear with his swollen lips. “Not a chance.”

You start to drift beneath him content with the warmth and weight of his form. He gives you a few minutes rest caressing the side of your face with the tip of his finger before he poses an important question. “You’re still okay with me staying here then?”

You turn your head to meet his eyes with a smirk. “Yes, but you still have to earn your keep if you want a stay.” You gesture to the state that he’s left the workshop in, “In addition to cleaning up your mess.”

Seokjin briefly glances to the tools strewn along the ground and then back at you with a smirk. He then shifts his whole body down, dipping his head back between your legs. “Yes ma’am.” His tongue takes a long stroke, cupping your cum filled cunt. “Hope you don’t mind if I start here.”

#bts smut #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts reader insert #jin x reader #bts x reader #bts kingsman au #bts in need of orders #jin smut

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glassworkspiderlilies · 3 years

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every ribbon you used (to tie yourself to me)

Genshin Impact | Albedo & Rhinedottir, Albedo/Lumine | AO3 Summary: A life is created within a flask and learns to be human. A shooting star from another world falls to the earth. There are words for such things, and for when such things come together. And when they fall apart. (Sometimes, even when a Prince and a Princess meet against the odds, they do not get idyllic ever afters.) Notes: approx 9k words. another albelumi fic that i basically speedwrote to ride the strength of my albedo feelings before xiao drops bc i don’t trust my own fickleness!! aka...will i abandon my sad good boy for one (1) sad rudeass boy....:'(

“Look at her, touching his cheek to make a truce, her fingers cool with spring rain; in thin grass, bursts of purple crocus—

even here, even at the beginning of love, her hand leaving his face makes an image of departure and they think they are free to overlook this sadness.”

—From “The Garden”, by Louise Glück

Albedo’s first memory is, of course, of his Master. His vision is filled with her when he is newly born, and though the sight from within the flask is a little distorted, he knows the hands that created him. Much later, when he gains the knowledge to formulate opinions, he will describe her as stern and severe, but at present, scant moments after his birth, his Master smiles at him with something that might be affection.

Otherwise, Albedo does not remember much of his early, early life. Still so new to existence as a whole, it was a long process to just learn—to learn to learn. He starts from the very basics on how to function like a human being, especially once he outgrows his flask. By all appearances, he is a human, and the differences are minute, or simply indiscernible by humans proper.

To breathe, to eat, to talk, to move. The constant asking of questions comes much later, when he becomes an actual thinking being—and that is when he earns his name too: Albedo, the stage of alchemy in which change begins. Rhinedottir is exceedingly patient with him, never once growing angry at the crawling slowness of this entire process.

She knew, and still knows, what it means to take responsibility for one’s actions.

Once Albedo becomes—properly situated, he takes to learning anything and everything with a voracious appetite. This appears to please his Master as she teaches him everything she knows—and her knowledge never seems to run out. She seems to have an answer for everything, though she does not always give them to him so readily, preferring that he come to his own conclusions with less guidance now that he can think for himself. Eventually, she starts asking him questions, knowing he does not have an answer. He learns to formulate his own theories and conduct his own experiments in order to find them, and such projects take anywhere from a few scant minutes to several years. Both of them are rarely working on only one thing; there is always some study or another in progress, and Albedo does not think it remiss to think that Rhinedottir is pleased to have another being keep up with her. His Master has had other students before, he learns, but none whom she could impart her knowledge to so fully, for various reasons.

It is a joy, for a very long time, to live his life like this. There is simply so much, to do and see and hear and figure out. But as the months pass, then years, then decades…life begins to grow monotonous.

It is not that he begrudges it overmuch—Rhinedottir still has things to teach, orders to give, and expectations to be met, which only increase in difficulty. Still, he comes to recognize a certain dullness in his pattern, and he cannot fully ignore this knowledge now that he is aware of it.

Nevertheless, his routine has been as such for so long that he does not even consider the possibility of it changing.

But it does, one day, when the sky lights up in a brilliant blaze of solar gold and electric white, and a shooting star plummets to the earth.

It is a phenomenon that even his Master has never seen in all her years, so it is inevitable that they go searching. The landing site of the mysterious star is not so far away according to Rhinedottir’s calculations, which furthers the imperative nature of their search—for how could they pass up such a golden opportunity for an absolutely unprecedented study? Albedo feels excitement beat warm in his chest, primarily owed to his Master’s enthusiasm. It is a new expression on her, this anticipation, which he finds fascinating; it is exceedingly rare that he is able to observe new facets of his Master. Even after all this time, there is still much he does not know about her, and she thus remains one of the greatest mysteries in his life.

Neither of them make any fantastical preemptive guesses as to what they might find from such an occurrence, but they do consider unusual possibilities—though logically, the basis will likely be rock Yet despite their openness of mind, they are not prepared to find what they do: an unconscious young girl, dressed in foreign white clothes, curled up in the center of a scorched crater.

Rhinedottir, usually always so sure of herself, checks her coordinates again to make sure there is no mistake.

“Well,” she says finally, moving closer to the figure, “This is unexpected, indeed.”

She tries to wake the girl to no avail. Albedo half-unpacks their supplies to take out his sleeping bag, unzipping it and laying it over the strange girl in attempts to keep her warm. After she is neatly tucked in, the two of them set up camp a little ways away, so as not to startle her overmuch with strangers looming over her when she does wake.

The girl opens her eyes as they are making dinner for the night, the slight rustling of the sleeping bag alerting Albedo and Rhinedottir of her wakefulness. They watch from the distance as she sits up, slow and lethargic as if every bone in her body hurts. She turns her head to the side a little then looks up to the sky, not yet spotting them, coming to the realization that she is in an unfamiliar place.

A small sound escapes her, like an aborted sob, hopeless and despairing.

It is at that moment that the wood in their fireplace pops, and her head swivels around at the loud noise. She throws herself back when she spots them, a sword suddenly in her hand, her stance combative; she says—something, her voice sharp and demanding, but they do not understand whatever language it is that she speaks.

Rhinedottir raises an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of a weapon from thin air, but puts out her hands in a placating manner to show that she means no harm. The girl glances at Albedo, who inclines his head towards her in greeting and continues to stir the stew that is beginning to bubble.

Her sword disintegrates from her grip as she does so, much to the alchemists’ surprise. To her credit, she seems to work out the situation fairly quickly, and slowly makes her way to the fire. It is not so much trust but logic that wins out—given their already laid out camp, if they had wanted to do her harm, they would have done so earlier when she was unconscious. She does not miss the sleeping bag that had been draped over her either, and brings it with her, saying something that might be a thanks when Albedo reaches out to take it.

Gingerly, she sits down, drawing her knees up and crossing her arms atop them as she stares into the flames, then looks between Rhinedottir and Albedo. She says—or asks—something, but neither Master nor student can understand her, and they reply so in Teyvat Common. She furrows her brows and tries again, as if testing whether or not they are pretending, a lengthy monologue spilling forth. But after a while, they notice that the sounds and syllables change every so often, and realize that she must be trying other languages as well.

But no matter how many she knows, it becomes apparent that she does not know Common.

Her distress grows as they fail to recognize sentence after sentence, and she eventually falls quiet, looking close to tears before she buries her face in her arms. Rhinedottir is nevertheless even more fascinated, for even though they cannot communicate at present, it is evident that the girl is something extraordinary.

Albedo too, is curious, if perhaps in a different way. There is something—familiar, about her situation, something that he thinks he might be able to understand. He finds himself reaching out a hand, lightly touching her arm to draw her attention. She raises her head, blinking as she focuses on him, her eyes both wary and despairing.

He points to himself, then enunciates his name very slowly.

“Al-be-do,” he says, and then, pointing to his Master, “Rhine-do-ttir.”

The girl’s lips purse, and he repeats himself several times, until finally she puts a hand to her chest and stares him straight in the eye. He does not think he mistakes the brief flash of gratitude before she speaks.

“Lu-mine,” she says, and Albedo smiles.

Lumine has nowhere else to go, of course, and so it is a given that she travel with them. She seems alarmed at first when they pack up their camp, but is relieved when Albedo holds out his hand, and tilts his head in question.

She doesn’t take it, but she nods and follows after them.

She is merely a silent shadow for some time, trailing along and watching them perform their experiments, both combined and separate. It is interesting that she raises her brows at the alchemy, yet does not seem entirely surprised at the art.

Even so, she is not dead weight. She is an able fighter, a fair huntress, and surprisingly, a decent cook. For the two alchemists whose meals tend to be the same time after time and primarily focus on nutritional value only, her cooking skill may perhaps be the most valuable skill that she can offer.

Lumine’s most interesting skill, however, is solidly her fighting prowess. It’s the sword-summoning she had done that first night that draws their attention the most, initially, the weapon appearing out of thin air and disappearing the same way. She seems confused by their fascination with it, but patiently performs it a few times for their observation.

The three of them soon form a comfortable routine. Lumine does not speak again for quite some time, and while the alchemists are intensely curious, they give her the space that she needs. There is no point to rushing her.

When she does finally begin to warm, however, it is Albedo that she begins drifting closer to. It is likely because he looks to be of the same or similar age, and compared to the forbidding severity of Rhinedottir’s countenance, he is much more approachable.

Rhinedottir watches, the first time that Lumine engages Albedo first, bringing him an apple and making a questioning noise. He blinks at her, looking at the fruit in her hand.

“Apple?” he asks, and she tilts her head at him.

“Apple?” she repeats, very slowly, adjusting her mouth around the sounds.

“Apple,” Albedo repeats, also very slowly as he touches the fruit, understanding now what she is trying to do.

“Apple,” Lumine says back, with the proper accent, her lips quirking up in a smile.

She says something more, then, and of course he does not understand, but she gestures to various things around her, then points back to herself. She taps two fingers to her lips, then holds them out to him, and then gestures between them both.

“Ah,” Albedo says, smiling back, “Yes, I will teach you.”

Rhinedottir watches this all, and wonders about the results that will come out of this union.

Lumine is a quick learner, picking up the basics of the language in a few scant months. In return, she begins teaching them a little of her own language—the one of her homeland, they learn much later on—but the accents and conjugations are much harder to get down, so utterly different from Common as it is.

Albedo takes to it far better, as he practices it more, fascinated by this new thing to learn given to him outside of his Master’s expectations. Lumine is inordinately pleased once he starts to string sentences together properly, and Albedo finds that he enjoys her pleasure.

In any case, they finally start to learn Lumine’s story from her in bits and pieces. She and her twin brother, Aether, spent their time traveling different worlds, but at some point, they had been blocked by some unknown god, and cruelly separated. The last she saw, the god had sealed her brother into a small red prison, and then done the same to Lumine.

When she woke up, she was here and stranded, without much of her previous powers.

Now, with enough language finally at her disposal, she can finally ask the question she has wanted to since the beginning, though she knows the answer by now.

“Have you seen him?” she asks, and Rhinedottir shakes her head.

“No, child, my apologies,” she says, and despite expecting this, Lumine’s face falls a little before she composes herself.

“I see,” she says softly, looking down.

She hesitates before she speaks again, meeting Rhinedottir’s eyes with determination, and without fear.

“I will leave you one day,” she says, and Rhinedottir smiles faintly.

“We all leave one another someday, child,” she replies, and Albedo glances at her, then at Lumine as well. “But you will stay for now, will you not?”

Lumine looks up at the sky for a moment before answering.

“Yes. I will.”

The years continue to pass less dully. Lumine picks up more and more of the common language, Albedo continues to pick up more and more of hers. She also learns a bit of alchemy during this time, enough to play assistant to the two alchemists proper if necessary.

And—also during this time, she consents to have tests and experiments run on her, in attempts to understand her better and perhaps find a way to regain her past abilities. Though she shows a little apprehension at first, the tests turn out to not be even remotely fearsome; she drinks potions and has her movements observed, and though the potions are not tasty and the physical regiments are sometimes rather strenuous, the tests are almost boring.

It is Albedo who does most of the testing and observing and compiling of research on Lumine, later bringing his notes to Rhinedottir for review. His Master is content to let the two youths spend more time together as she focuses on her own work—and anyway, unbeknownst to them, she is conducting her own new study. Albedo has grown much since his creation, and she tracks each minute difference—which have grown more steadily now—with precision. Lumine still has many unfathomable mysteries about her, but even so, Rhinedottir can see the changes about her as Albedo teaches her the names of various flowers and words like “grace”, “strength”, and “gentleness”.

In return, Lumine teaches him the words for “happiness”, “kindness”, and “warmth”.

These children know not what it is they are doing, Rhinedottir thinks, as she watches Lumine trace letters onto Albedo’s bare palm, but oh, she does, old crone as she may be.

And so, she watches, and does nothing to encourage or deny them.

Albedo cannot yet recognize what the slow molten, seeping feeling is that is growing inside of him, only that it reminds him of rubedo.

Lumine has an inkling of where the path of her feelings could go when she looks into Albedo’s sky blue eyes, but pushes it aside, for she cannot afford to take it.

He is not meant to share the secret of his birth—or rather, creation—carelessly, but Lumine is not just anybody, and nor does she seem particularly surprised by this revelation when he eventually entrusts her with this knowledge.

“Soil is the origin of alchemy, and the basis of all life,” he explains, using Lumine’s native tongue, for he likes the way her eyes shine when he does so, “And chalk, spotless soil, is the substance which primal life is molded.”

She hums, musing over this new information.

“And stars?” she asks, “What about stars?”

Albedo purses his lips, thinking.

“I don’t know,” he admits, “And it may be too difficult to be able to study, when one is so land-bound.”

She chuckles a little, tilting her head back to look at the sky.

“My first memory is of the sky,” she says, “And the light. So perhaps Aether and I were born of stardust. You said, didn’t you, that the day I appeared, I had looked like a shooting star?”

“It was a brilliant sight,” Albedo says, with a nod, “Neither Master nor I have seen anything like it, in all our years. Hmm…chalk and stardust…I wonder what could be created by the two combined?”

Lumine glances at him, eyebrow raised, but he is not looking at her nor thinking about the implications of what he’s said, hand to his chin in deep thought.

“Well, we are here,” she says after a pause, her tone light, “A child of chalk and a…potential child of stardust. What will you call us?”

He looks at her then, responding without hesitancy.

“Remarkable,” he declares, smiling.

Lumine’s eyes widen at his response, and then she throws her head back and laughs, bright and delighted.

“Yes,” she says, “Yes, remarkable indeed.”

There is a market happening in the nearest town, and so Rhinedottir sends Albedo and Lumine on an errand to pick up things they usually cannot get so easily. Normally, the three of them camp out when they can, and head into civilization only if strictly necessary—they cannot conduct the bulk of their experiments in such quarters as an inn. Of course, they must make exceptions when the weather turns for the worse, and there are no caves or such shelter to bunker in. But neither alchemist is overly fond of human interaction, and they avoid it to diminish various complications.

In the past, picking up supplies was a task Albedo had never thought much of previously. But now, with Lumine by his side, he finds that the errand has a new color. They peruse the market, Lumine looking around with more curiosity than he, and Albedo watches her take in the sights and wares. Since the time she has joined them, they have not had many chances to go into towns, and none so far had a market as lively as this—apparently due to some celebration going on.

Just as he is musing what kind of festival might be happening this time of year, he realizes that Lumine is no longer by his side, and has to backtrack a little to find her stopped in front of a taciturn stonecutter’s stall. Her fingers have half-lifted a pendant from his display closer to her as she scrutinizes the stone.

The man’s necklaces are no expert things, their focus mostly on the stones themselves with a chain looped through them, though some are a little more interestingly caged or bound with metal. The rather intimidating stonecutter himself does not push them to buy, and merely watches them with keen eyes as they browse.

“It is a good stone,” Albedo supplies as he steps closer, and Lumine looks to him. The stonecutter smiles faintly as well, pleased that someone is able to recognize its true worth. “I did not know you were interested in such things.”

“It’s the color of your eyes,” Lumine says simply, and Albedo blinks in surprise. “I’ll take this, sir.”

The man’s smile deepens as the transaction is completed, his visage not so frightening like this.

“If I may ask…” Lumine says, just a touch hesitantly, “If I…gave you a stone, could you make another pendant of it, like these?”

The man raises an eyebrow, but gestures for her to show him. She reaches into her pocket, then drops the stone into his palm. The stonecutter’s eyes shoot up when she moves her hand away, and Albedo also blinks at the multicolored facets of a kind of yellow diamond he has never seen before.

“…Best take it to a master,” the man says, but Lumine shakes her head.

“I haven’t the time,” she says, and Albedo blinks at her, unsure why she says such a thing, “Nor do I want this to turn into something too…flashy.”

The stonecutter hums, then shrugs, reaching for some tools, and they wait as he fiddles with the gem. In a few moments, he has it bound up in a simple cage of silver wire, and a chain looped through a little opening. Lumine smiles with satisfaction when he hands it back.

“How much?” she asks, and the man shrugs.

“No need,” he says, “Got to see something incredible. Not every day you get to see a stone like that. I’d like to ask dearly where you got it, but I shan’t.”

Lumine smiles, and pays him for the chain anyway.

They complete the rest of their task with quickly; Lumine says nothing more about her purchases, and Albedo does not ask.

It is Rhinedottir who notices something remiss with her when they return to their camp in the outskirts.

“Oh,” she says, “It is time, then?”

Lumine’s lips thin, her expression mulish as she tilts her head down a little.

“A few more days,” she sighs, not looking at her. “But no more.”

Albedo attends to his chores, and pretends not to know what they are speaking of.

It is a parting gift, the necklace she had made.

She drops it into his palm the day she leaves, looking apologetic. Albedo knew this day would come, of course, but it does not lessen the sting.

He stares at the pendant while Lumine says her goodbyes to his Master.

“You’ve come a long way,” Rhinedottir says, her gaze piercing, “Do you finally feel welcome in this world?”

Lumine glances at Albedo before looking back to the older woman.

“Perhaps,” she says, “But the red god did not call us Outlanders for nothing.”

Rhinedottir shrugs.

“Then make your place,” she says simply, “And you will be an outlander no longer.”

Lumine purses her lips in thought. But she is in no place to consider this with the depth that it needs at present.

“Thank you, Madam,” she says instead, “For your care and teachings all this time.”

Rhinedottir simply cackles and waves her hand before making her way back to the camp, so that the two youths may speak alone. There is no parting gift for her; she has no need for such sentimentality, and she has already been given the greatest gift by being able to observe and test and research this fallen star of a girl.

Lumine turns to Albedo, and the two are silent for a while. Then, she reaches out to take the necklace from his hand, and gently loops the chain over his head.

“Will you stay upset with me long?” she asks quietly.

Albedo looks down at the brilliant stone of the pendant against his chest, turning it this way and that in his fingers. It sparkles in different colors as it catches the light.

“Of course not. It is not—your fault.”

She smiles a little at that.

“Ah, but I am undeniably the cause.”

“We have known since the beginning that you would leave one day, to search out your brother. I must simply confess that I…enjoyed our time together so greatly that I no longer thought of that fact so consciously.”

He finally looks at her, and her breath hitches for a second. They stare at each other for a moment before she reaches into her pocket and pulls out the other necklace she had purchased at the stall, holding it out to him.

“Will you do the same for me, please?” she requests, and he complies.

He steps closer to put the chain over her head, and does not step away when he is done.

“I enjoyed our time, too,” Lumine whispers, her eyes gentle, “More than I thought possible, after I fell to this land. Thank you, Albedo, for…for bringing me back to life.”

He blinks, unnamable emotion welling up inside him, and he does not know what to do.

Lumine reaches out to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing gently across his skin, and he sighs as he leans into her touch.

“Do not forget me,” she murmurs.

“I will not,” he promises.

She smiles, and steps back, his skin cold when her hand leaves him.

“Goodbye,” she says.

“Goodbye,” he echoes.

He grips the pendant as he watches her go, and cannot help but wonder—

If finding those necklaces at the market spelled her departure…if she had not seen them, if he had not received this gift, would she have stayed a little longer?

He mopes afterwards, though he does not know it for what it is. Albedo is ashamed to say that he is unable to properly notice his own behavior until his Master snaps him out of it.

Rhinedottir does not do so in a scolding manner—rather, she brings it up lightly, with amusement.

“Tell me,” she says, her attention more on the bottle in her hand, as she shakes it and considers the changing color, “Do you know what it is you feel?”

He realizes he does not. There is an emptiness inside of him, not exactly great and yawning, but palpable and difficult to ignore. It is heavy even as it is intangible, and though it feels so much like a stone within his chest, he cannot take it and toss it away.

He is not miserable. With Lumine’s departure, his life has simply returned to its old routine with him and his Master. It is not even as dull as he remembers, and he is still glad to be by his Master’s side, learning and working alongside her. There is still value that he finds in his experiments, and meeting his Master’s high (and rising) expectations.

Except—every so often he cannot help but wonder…where is Lumine now, and how is she doing? Has she managed to find clues to her brother’s whereabouts, or has she found him entirely?

At night, Rhinedottir watches her protégé’s face furrowed in deep thought as he reflects upon himself. It is a difficult thing to do, but Albedo has always performed admirably, and this is yet another part of his growth. Distantly, Rhinedottir thinks that for the everyday person in a similar situation, what Albedo is currently experiencing is meant to be part of a rose-colored period in their life.

But she, he, and the one in his thoughts…well, none of them are everyday people.

Rhinedottir tucks a hand under her chin as she muses, ready when Albedo turns to her.

“Master,” he says, perfectly calm, “Is this loneliness?”

Only a faint upward twitch of her lips confirms the correctness of his answer.

“Albedo,” Rhinedottir says, “You have grown up well.”

He blinks, unsure of where this is going. Her praise never comes lightly, and she is not a warm person to give such compliments undue. This acknowledgement makes him…apprehensive.

“And yet, this is only the beginning,” she adds, and Albedo furrows his brows.

Rhinedottir turns away to prevent further discussion. Even with Lumine gone, there is still his Master. Though he has determined what loneliness is, he has not yet realized what it means to be alone.

He has grown well, and continues to do so—but this is not the first of hard lessons, nor will it be the last.

Change comes again some years later, in the form of a letter, delivered to them by the hands of a hilichurl.

It is Albedo who receives it. He’d been trying to observe the unique patterns on its mask that he has not seen before, but when it spots him, it calls out to him. His name is mangled, yet still recognizable, but despite the address the hilichurl is wary and holds out the letter as if it thinks it will be the last thing it does.

But it completes its mission; Albedo takes the envelope gingerly, nonplussed at this sudden, unexpected interaction.

The hilichurl scampers away the moment Albedo’s fingers close on the paper and secures it.

“Master,” he says, when she ambles up beside him, having noticed this interaction from afar, “Have you ever seen the like?”

“No,” she says, her voice absent as she stares at the envelope in his hand. “Open the letter, Albedo.”

He obeys. Inside in a single folded sheet, with a single line in careful print.

I’ve found my place.

“I see,” Rinedottir murmurs.

She looks thoughtful but says nothing else, merely looking to the sky before walking back to their camp.

Albedo stares at the letter, at the familiar handwriting, at the emptiness of the remaining space. He should be glad for Lumine, and gladder still that she has managed to notify them that she is alive and well.

But the fact that it arrives to them after all this time, not from her directly but in the hands of a hilichurl of all things…he knows how to read the letter for what it is.

A severance.

Her place is elsewhere, somewhere out of reach, some place that he cannot understand.

(And yet…to turn the unknown into the known…that is what he does.)

Albedo stays out for a long, long time, until the sun sets, and his fingers turn cold.

Rhinedottir watches as her boy stands outside in the wilderness and navigates through heartbreak.

When Albedo comes back to the fire to warm his hands, she smiles a little at the resolution set on his face. He has nothing to ask her.

Yes, she thinks.

Soon, she will have nothing left to teach him.

Albedo wakes one morning with his Master nowhere to be found.

Her tools are gone. Her notes are gone. Nearly every trace of the fact he had been traveling with another person is gone.

All she leaves behind is a note, a recommendation later, and the Opus Magnum, the ancient alchemical manuscript which she had so carefully protected during their travels.

He reads her note with trembling hands.

Albedo, when you have put your own affairs in order, go to Mondstadt. Find my old friend, Alice, and give her the recommendation letter. Complete your final assignment.

He surveys the camp once more when he is done, still in disbelief. His Master, Rhinedottir, suddenly gone from his life with nary a warning. He had feared such a thing before, that if he had failed to complete the assignment he’d been given, she would leave him—she had threatened to do so before often enough, as a motivator. But he had and has done everything she has asked, met every expectation and even beyond.

He had not thought that the opposite too could be true, that she would eventually run out of things to teach him, and leave him thus. What she deems her final assignment had not been delivered in any unusual manner the other day. The truth of this world…he had thought like any other task—that she already had the answer, and would watch over him like always as he struggled to reach the same enlightenment.

The sun is already high in the air but the morning is nonetheless dark. He cannot move. The routines he performed with his Master are gone, because his teacher is gone. Nothing is the same. He does not know how to adjust.

Albedo reads her letter over and over again, until he finally reads the recommendation letter she has left too. It is an impersonal detailing of his abilities and accomplishments—so like his Master, and not at all unexpected, and yet he feels emptier having read it.

“Master,” he whispers, “Is this what true loneliness feels like?”

It is more debilitating than he could have guessed.

He watches the sun rise and fall, rise and fall. He does not eat or sleep.

He does a study in hunger, in dehydration. In inertness. He presses his cheek to the ground and watches ants and beetles traverse the dirt. He is not looking to die—though he would not be able to die in this manner to begin with. But nor can he bring himself to move.

And then, one day, a sunsettia plops onto his head.

And then another, and another. He peels his eyes open and looks up to see a hilichurl retreating to a safe distance. It watches as he slowly rises to his knees before running away fully.

If he recalls correctly…it is the same one that had delivered him Lumine’s letter, the one with the unique mask patterns.

Lumine.

Do not forget me, she had said, and he promised that he would not. But he confesses he did, for this snatch of time where he could not think of anything at all.

Complete your final assignment, Rhinedottir had said, and as her loyal student, his compliance was inherent. But that is not the path is he currently on, nor attempting to be on.

…There are still things he has to do, wants to do.

Albedo eats the sunsettias slowly, and then goes searching for more when his stomach settles. The hilichurl does not appear again, but the reminder was enough. His studies in stagnation are done; they do not achieve what he actually wants to achieve.

Logically, he knows, but pulling himself back together is still slow going. He takes one step at a time, and begins going through the motions of the everyday life he had shared with his Master. It becomes familiar again in due time, and he realizes, perhaps, that Rhinedottir had prepared him for this for quite a long time. He has everything he needs, including the routines, even if he is alone.

The rest depends on him.

For the first time, he cries. He does not realize he is doing so until the tears drip off his chin and onto the back of his hand. It is a curious feeling; a part of him marvels at this new, uncontrolled response, the force of his feelings so overwhelming that he cannot contain them.

“I am still learning, Master,” he whispers, and wipes the tears away.

When you have put your own affairs in order, Rhinedottir’s letter had begun, and so he shall begin to do so.

The first order of business: to once more find the shooting star that had fallen to the earth.

It takes a few months, though even that is sooner than he expected. He spends that time simply roaming…and attempting to communicate with hilichurls. Not all the encounters go well—he cannot always get close, and sometimes even if he can, it results in battle. He does not know how to begin learning their language, but he can observe their culture. He seeks out the shamans and brings food to showcase goodwill, shows Lumine’s necklace to them if he is able to establish communication. Albedo cannot tell if they understand, but he tries anyway, and continues to try.

It pays off.

After many other failed attempts, this group of hilichurls exclaims after looking at the necklace a bit, and gestures wildly for him to follow. They lead him to a field of sweet flowers, and at first, Albedo takes this to be another misunderstanding, sighing.

But then he sees the Ruin Guard ambling towards it, and the figure perched in its hand.

The Guard stops in front of him, and Lumine’s face is expressionless as her eyes meet his. The Guard lowers its hand for her to step down, and he sees that there are also apples and sunsettias in its palm.

These she gives to the hilichurls, who exclaim in delight, carrying off the fruits immediately. The Guard itself ambles away slowly once its hand is empty.

“You’ve been kind to them,” she murmurs, watching the hilichurls go. “Thank you.”

“Lumine,” he breathes, his voice hushed.

“Albedo,” she says back, turning to face him.

For a moment, it feels like they are meeting for the first time again, though now they already know each other’s names. Like him, she looks the same as she did all those years ago, and yet much has changed since then.

“You’ve been looking for me,” she says, her voice flat, “Why?”

“I felt I was in danger of losing you,” he replies, not at all offput by the coldness of her attitude, “So I came to keep my promise.”

Her expression changes at that, a flicker of pain flashing across her eyes.

“I am not the girl you once knew,” she tells him.

“And yet, my life’s purpose is to turn the unknown into the known.”

Her brows furrow at his response, the corners of her mouth tugging downwards.

“This is not for you to know.”

“All knowledge is worth having. If you will not share it, I will attempt to discover it myself, in due time.”

Her lips thin with displeasure, her eyes bright with anger. He tilts his head a little as he scrutinizes her.

“You let me find you,” he says gently, “Why?”

Lumine tenses and does not answer him.

“You are afraid,” he continues, and she begins stepping back, her eyes wary, “…And you are lonely.”

At that, she hisses and turns away as if she will leave him entirely, but he reaches out to grab her wrist.

She stills at his touch, and does not pull away.

“How funny that I should feel the same,” Albedo says, with something of a self-depreciating laugh.

Her head whips back to look at him, and the two stare at each other before she finally sighs, the tension draining out of her body. She looks…small, like this. Terribly so.

“Madam Rhinedottir left you,” she says, her voice defeated.

“Yes.”

“You almost died.”

“That is not true, though I was indeed indisposed for some time.”

She raises her eyebrow at that, and he gives her a sheepish look. There is not much more explanation he can give about that, and Lumine shakes her head.

“I did not send that letter so that you would come find me.” she says, her voice distant.

“I know. But why did you send the letter?”

She hesitates before responding.

“…I…thought you would rather know, than not.”

“Ah—a kindness then.”

He smiles a little here, tilting his head just a little teasingly, and her face softens against her will before she turns her face away.

“If…you wish to view it as such.”

A few heartbeats pass before they speak again.

“Are you still searching for your brother?”

“…Yes. But so far, it has been fruitless. I suspect I will only see him when the dust settles. In the meantime…I’ve discovered something else I cannot walk away from.”

“And will you tell me what it is?” he coaxes warmly, but her response is icy.

“Do not ask of me such a thing Albedo, when you are not here to stay.”

He pauses, deliberating whether or not he can answer otherwise to hear her answer, but he will not lie to her. Her lips quirk up at his quietude, but her expression grows melancholy after a moment.

“There is something you cannot walk away from as well,” she says, and he nods.

“My Master’s final assignment is to find the truth of this world,” he says quietly, “I…wonder if I will be able to see her again, when I do.”

Lumine blinks, faintly surprised, though she says nothing on the subject.

The two fall silent then, looking at each other. Albedo is still holding onto Lumine’s wrist, though neither of them comment on the matter.

After a while, Lumine sighs, and reaches out a hand to touch his cheek.

“Albedo,” she says, switching to the language of her homeland, “I confess it is good to see you. But it was not…a good choice.”

He blinks at her and leans into her touch, holding her gaze.

“I wanted to see you,” he says simply, and she shivers to hear the language from him in return.

“Do not do this again. The next time you find me, I will kill you.”

He smiles a little at that.

“Then when it is time for me to die, I will come to you.”

She frowns, and drops her hand as if burned.

“Ah, so you intend to make me do it,” she says, shaking her head. “You are cruel, Prince of Chalk.”

“It is not about making you do it. It is about having a reason to do so.”

She looks at him sharply, her eyes and posture demanding. But he smiles, and says nothing more. The bargain for this information is not something she is willing to make at present.

“Don’t come,” she hisses.

“I will, if I must. You have already made the declaration.”

Her jaw is clenched at his refusal, her body trembling slightly, and it is another moment before she speaks again.

“…Then if you must come, at the time, if I am nothing like you remember, if I am no longer who I say…you must be prepared to do the same. You made me a promise. Do not forget me. Me. As Lumine. Do not let a stranger kill you.”

He tugs off one glove, and holds out his hand.

Slowly, she takes it, intertwining their fingers. Hers are warm as his are cool.

“So once more, we make an exchange,” he says lightly.

She blinks at him, then peers at his neck. She reaches under his collar and tugs out the pendant she had gifted him so long ago by the chain, the yellow diamond still glittering as brilliantly as ever. He reaches under her scarf to tug out hers, the blue crystal still beautifully clear and luminous.

Lumine sighs, and leans her forehead against his.

“You make this difficult,” she mutters.

He chuckles.

“Master used to say that if it was easy, you were not learning.”

Her lips quirk up into a wry smile. After a while, she squeezes his hand, and does not let it go when she steps back.

“Go,” she sighs, “This is hard enough already. Do not make it harder.”

He looks at her, then lifts her hand to press her knuckles to his lips.

“Until death unites us, then,” he says, and lets her go.

She does not say goodbye this time, and he does not turn back. She watches him, until he is out of sight, gripping the pendant hanging in the center of her chest so hard it hurts.

Mondstadt welcomes him with open arms, and his skill is so far beyond what everyone else is used to that even without the recommendation letter, he could have easily made a place for himself. Even so, he is new to the city, so to make him Chief Alchemist is too hasty still.

He does not mind; he does not need a position at all, so long as he is still allowed use the resources that they have.

Instead, he accompanies his Master’s friend, Alice, and her little daughter Klee, on various adventures to better acclimate himself to the country. It is very different than traveling with his Master; Alice is rambunctious and destructive, attentions everywhere all at once with whatever new thing catches her interest. Klee watches her mother with big eyes and a wide smile, and listens with rapt focus whenever Alice sits her down to teach her how to make bombs. (Surely that is not conventional, but…Albedo has not exactly lived a conventional life, and does not have “normal” parenting to compare Alice’s to.)

It is chaotic, and yet he does not wholly mind. It is a new experience to consider.

And yet…in three years, Alice too is gone. She leaves Klee with Albedo and the Knights of Favonius, and then she and her partner are gone in a flash, into the depths of the world.

Klee holds Albedo’s hand tightly when her parents leave with nary a backwards glance, and he squeezes it gently back, understanding her feelings. They are similar—an absent mother and an absent Master, the ones left behind and lonely, their abilities just a little too much for Mondstadt’s walls.

He and Klee sleep side-by-side that night, and for a little while to come. But the little girl handles it better than he, ultimately; she is perky and bright within a few days, pouring her attentions into crafting new bombs and terrorizing the fish in Starfell Lake. (He mitigates this where he can, but…Klee’s shenanigans become commonplace and well known amongst the Knights as they all pitch in to watch her.)

During their travels, Alice had said they were now a family, and that Albedo could call her Mother, if he so wished. But he did not, and the word stuck oddly when he tested it.

But as for Klee…it is not so strange to call her little sister. She had already endeared herself to him early on, with an unprecedented affection so whole and pure and innocent. Despite his lack of previous interaction with children, he does well in caring for her, and he cannot help but marvel a little at the responsibility of watching over another life like so, perhaps a little like the way his Master had when he was brought out of his flask.

They are, perhaps unexpectedly, a good pair. With Klee, Albedo learns about a different kind of contentment, and comfort. There are nights, after Klee has had a nightmare and Albedo simply cannot sleep, that they sit together and watch the stars with a hot drink, or go out to catch fireflies. Together, they forget to be lonely.

“Albedo,” Klee says sleepily on one such stargazing and hot-drink night, nestled up beside him, “I’m really glad that you came to Mondstadt.”

Albedo strokes his sister’s hair, and smiles tenderly.

“Thank you, Klee,” he murmurs, picking her up with great care to put her to bed, “I’m very glad I did too.”

Regardless of previous misgivings, Albedo gains two titles, aside from the one his Master left him, very quickly: Chief Alchemist, and Captain of the Investigation Team. He is truly a Knight of Favonius by the time this happens, with even his bladework adjusted to better suit their style.

Besides Klee—and Sucrose and Timaeus, whom he has taken under his tutelage in the past months—he still primarily keeps to himself. He is satisfied with the relationships he has, and is not interested in cultivating too many new or deeper ones. The work that is required for such things…it is troublesome.

The official assignments required from him by the Knights are, quite frankly, easy, just barely requiring five percent of his energy. But this suits him just fine, as it allows him ample time for his own pursuits.

His life in Mondstadt is colorful, and though here too he forms his routines, there is never a dull moment—especially with Klee, and two students to teach.

Albedo wonders if something like this was the reason his Master sent him to Mondstadt. He is…happy here, in this gentle and free city.

He wonders if, as they had traveled the world just the two of them for so long, his Master had been, too.

He is not in the city proper when Stormterror attacks, but he hears about the Traveler the moment he returns. The knights on duty inform him that the young man and his floating companion had been taken to see Jean in her office, and then the group of them had headed out again afterwards posthaste. Albedo walks towards Headquarters with renewed curiosity, but expects he’ll hear more about everything in due time, and simply goes to his workshop as usual.

There is a knock on his door a little while later, and he calls for whoever is on the other side of the door to come in. He is observing the color change of a potion in his hands, and turns only when it has settled into the proper pale shade.

When he finally looks up from the bottle, he nearly drops it in surprise.

A young man in foreign clothes stands next to Jean, about the same height as Albedo, if perhaps a touch taller. He is slim, his long blond hair tied in a braid, his golden eyes open and curious. A small fairy-like child floats next to him, but Albedo’s focus is on the Traveler, and blinks as he takes in his visage.

They are not identical, but nevertheless, Albedo knows him for who he is.

“Good afternoon, Albedo,” Jean greets, “You must have already heard the stories, but this is the Traveler, Aether, who I’ve deemed an Honorary Knight of Favonius for his assistance. His companion is Paimon.” She gestures back and forth as she introduces everyone. “This is Albedo, Chief Alchemist and Captain of our Investigation Team.”

“Hiya!” Paimon says, waving cheerfuly while Aether dips his head politely in greeting.

“Hello,” Albedo returns, finally settling down the bottle into a rack. “Thank you, for your service to Mondstadt. What brings you here to see me?”

“He is looking for his sister,” Jean explains, and Albedo keeps his face impassive. “I was hoping that he might sit with you awhile to tell you about her, and you could sketch her likeness for some missing person posters?”

“Ah,” Albedo says. “Yes, of course. I will clear some space.”

“Excellent,” Jean smiles, making to leave. “My thanks, Albedo. And—Aether, Paimon, please get some rest afterwards. Arrangements with the inn have been made, and they are ready to accommodate your stay for as long as you need.”

Aether bobs his head again, murmuring a thank you, and in the next moment it is just the three of them.

Albedo is curious about the floating child, but…he puts this aside for now, clearing some notes off a stool for the Traveler to sit. He does so gingerly, looking around the workshop with fascination. Paimon floats, of course, but she moves this way and that in excitement.

“We heard that you’re really great at drawing—Paimon can’t wait to see a master at work!” she exclaims, and Albedo smiles wryly.

“I hope I will not disappoint,” he demurs, as he moves around to locate his materials.

“Thank you, for agreeing to do this,” Aether adds, hesitating a little on the words. “I’m sorry—my mastery of the language is…not so good, yet.”

Albedo prepares the proper paper and pencils, then glances at him sidelong.

“You speak it well, but would you prefer to use a language more comfortable to you?” he asks, and watches Aether’s eyes go wide with shock.

A heartbeat passes, and Aether rises from his seat—

And slams Albedo into the wall by the collar, his hands fisted into his shirt.

It is an aggressive action, yet not one fueled by violence, but desperation. Aether’s eyes are begging as they well up with tears, and his entire body trembles. Paimon watches with her hands over her mouth, completely taken aback by this turn of events and unsure of what to do.

“Where? How?” Aether chokes out, his voice raw, “Tell me—you’ve met her, haven’t you? She taught you. There is no one else left besides she and I who know this tongue.”

“It was many years ago,” Albedo says, putting his own hands gently over Aether’s. There is already a lot understood in that statement; neither Albedo nor Aether are quite human, and neither are quite willing to reveal such personal secrets so openly just yet. “The last I saw her was in a nameless flower field, when I was on my way to this city. I know not what she is doing, nor where she is now. I am sorry.”

Aether loosens his hold, breathing ragged, and steps back.

“I am sorry too, for my reaction,” he says, running a hand through his hair, still distressed. He paces a little, unsure of what to do with all the adrenaline thrumming in his veins. “It has been…quite some time, that I’ve heard our language, and from someone other than Lumine.”

“No harm done,” Albedo assures him, though he suspects his back will be a little sore.

The two regard each other for a moment, and Paimon looks between them.

“Will someone please explain what is going on?!” she demands, and Aether rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

“He…knows a language I thought was lost,” Aether says, then pins her with his gaze. “Paimon…you can’t mention what happened here to anyone else, I mean it. Please.

“Wha? Paimon doesn’t get it, but…if you say so. It’s unfair to leave Paimon out, though!”

“I’m sorry,” Aether says, ruffling her hair. “I’ll…explain to you later. And I’ll buy you more Sticky Honey Roast.”

“Yes! Alright, Paimon will do whatever you say!”

Albedo smiles a little, and motions for Aether to sit.

Neither are sure how much to reveal, and also in front of Paimon, so they go through the motions of the situation. Aether describes Lumine in vast detail, and though Albedo does not need it, it is fascinating to hear of her through the eyes of her brother, and match his words to what he knows.

By the end, Paimon marvels over the final drawing, and Aether goes quiet over the portrait. It is a remarkable likeness, down to the way she holds herself and the gleam in her eye.

“Thank you,” Aether murmurs, and Albedo knows he means more than just for the drawing.

“Alright then! Let’s go to Good Hunter now!” Paimon cheers, and flies off first without waiting for an answer.

Aether lingers, as expected, handing back the sketch with reluctance so that it can be copied.

“You may have the original, once the posters are produced,” Albedo tells him, and Aether smiles.

“My thanks,” he says, then hesitates before continuing. “Please…could we meet up again? I’d…like to speak more to you, about…a few things, really, but about Lumine especially. And...I cannot express how much it means, to be speaking this again.”

“I may be difficult to find,” Albedo admits, “But if you can get word to me, I will make time. I would like to speak to you, as well.”

Aether’s smile is brilliant, and he leaves the workshop in a mood just as bright.

Albedo watches him go, and wonders what to tell him, and how much. He looks at the sketch in his hand, unsure of the result of putting up these posters will be. There may be a danger in that it is too good a likeness.

She had said…not to look for her. The next time you find me, I will kill you. But surely that did not apply to Aether, whom she was looking for to begin with all the years.

He sighs deeply and wonders—

Lumine’s goals, and the truths she has found…what are they?

A thousand miles away, underground, Lumine stares down into a pit she cannot see the bottom of, gripping her blue pendant tightly. She holds it over the edge of the abyss, then loosens her fingers, the stone swinging freely.

After a moment, she sighs.

She retracts her hand, holds her fist to her chest.

She slips the chain back over her head.

#genshin impact #genshin lumine #genshin albedo #albelumi #rhinedottir #homunculus albedo #abyss princess lumine #kreideprinz #fanfiction #genshin impact fic #good luck to everyone rolling!!#i pray xiao comes home

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lailoken · 3 years

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“The Lady of Norfolk: Our Lady of the Chalk

Twice in any twenty-four-hour period, it is possible to watch the Lady of Norfolk stepping from the sea. As the tide recedes, just to the East of Sheringham, She begins to appear, in the form of an outcrop of rocks, sometimes white and gleaming in the sunshine, but sometimes more subtle, and draped in seaweed. This small sliver of rock provides us with a little glimpse of Norfolk's Chalk reef, which is a rich and diverse marine habitat, our Lady's submerged treasury, from which she offers many magical gifts, and tells her wordless story of the ancient history of the landscape. For the physical aspect of this technically and unromantically given the chemical name of calcium carbonate, is made up of the solid remains of millions of creatures, whose lives and dramas unfolded long before the Ice Age, when most of the land was still beneath the sea. So, every piece of Chalk we casually pick holds within it something of these ancient memories.

Of course, the concept of a White Goddess of love, beauty, caring and nurturing, stepping from the sea, is found in other traditions worldwide. I have been fortunate enough to visit the birthplace of Aphrodite, in Cyprus, and to see the brilliant white rock which represents her emerging from the blue green of the Mediterranean, lapped all around with perfect white sea foam. She is indeed grand and dramatic, and tourists arrive constantly to see her and pay their respects. Our Lady of Norfolk is much quieter, less theatrical, and only ever whispers her secrets. However, there is nothing more lovely than watching her appear from a cold, grey North Sea, when only a few dog walkers or beachcombers are around, and far too distant to disturb our musings. The Lady of the Chalk, our White Lady, is Mother of the Flint, although precisely how the Flint forms within the Chalk remains a mystery, as so it should. It has been suggested that burrows within the Chalk become filled with dissolved silica, which is derived from the skeletons of sponges (Hart, 2000). These form nodules which become freed from their Mother over millions of years of erosion.

We see the Lady of Norfolk as a nurturer of crops and a nourisher of the creatures and the people of the land. This is reflected, in practical terms, in the process known as "marling", which was particularly popular in the 18th and 19th centuries, when Chalk was dug from pits and spread onto the fields to enhance the soil structure and to neutralise acidity (Williamson, 1993). We may not need to spread physical Chalk on our own small areas of land, but we can certainly call on the Lady to bless our gardens and the places for wild fruits, nuts, herbs or craft materials, for on all levels, she can help make the conditions right for things to thrive. She can do this on the inside as well as in our environment, since Chalk tablets are taken by many people as an antacid, and many toothpastes contain finely ground Chalk.

The Lady of Norfolk is also associated with the white milk of fostering, for just as she is Mother of the Flint, she is also a Mother to us all. It is interesting that, at the Christian shrine at Walsingham, there was a vial of "Our Lady's Milk", brought to Norfolk from the Holy House at Bethlehem, where Jesus was born. This "milk" was long regarded as a precious relic, full of miraculous potential. Yet, what it appears to have been (and even modern Christian scholars agree on this point) is scrapings of Chalk from the walls of the place of the Nativity (Spencer, 1980). So, powdered Chalk, from a distant Holy Land, representing another White Lady, has been brought to a hallowed place within our own sacred, Chalk landscape (Wood, 2017). From a magical point of view, this adds many more layers of meaning and interest, and merits much thought and meditation.

Like a good Mother, the Lady of Norfolk is one who can hold together her magical family, just as the mortar, of which her physical being is a part, holds in place the Flints or the bricks of the buildings which shelter us. We might barely notice her in this aspect, but she is there, informing the subtle patterns which we create together, as she fosters cooperation and community.

The Lady may also be called upon to protect our communities and our own hearths and homes. This is enhanced by chalking protective symbols onto fenceposts, doorsteps and pathways. Various runes may be used for this purpose. Particularly popular is the bindrune known as the Helm of Awe, although "running eights" work especially well on doorsteps. Although it is sometimes tempting to create the more elaborate patterns from colourful, commercial chalk (which is usually made out of gypsum or talc), to invoke the Lady's protection to its full extent, it really needs to be worked with Chalk found locally.

Because it is physically possible to write with Chalk, the Lady can also be called upon to assist magically those of us who work with the craft of writing, while the practical uses of her gifts in numerous other crafts (for example, tailor's chalk for those who sew, checking the fit of joints in woodwork) provide a route to summoning her assistance in all the skills of the hand and the imagination. Thus, both the Lord and Lady of Norfolk have very strong associations with the practical crafts, which are so embedded in the magical work of the county.

Chalk carving is a craft which can certainly be said to have been associated with the Goddess in ancient times, and one controversial depiction of her was "discovered" in 1939, in Pit 15 of Grimes Graves, by the archaeologist A. Leslie Armstrong. She was sitting on a Flint plinth, with antler picks, and a Chalk vessel beneath it. There was a carved Chalk phallus on the floor and Flint nodules arranged, in a phallus shape, in a gallery not far away. This "Venus of Grimes Graves", or "Chalk Goddess", became an iconic figure, appearing on the official site guidebooks and attracting much academic speculation about her role as an Earth Goddess, reminiscent of other European, Palaeolithic "Venus" figures. She is indeed very well rounded, with large, pendulous breasts, and appears to be pregnant. It was also suggested that she might have been placed in the pit, to petition for a more abundant seam of unweathered floorstone in the next excavation. However, there have been many questions raised about the authenticity of the figurine. Armstrong, who had been implicated in other fraudulent finds, had been alone in the pit, prior to the discovery, having forbidden other colleagues from joining him. Then, when he brought his finds to the surface, his friend, Ethel Rudkin, angered him by making a copy of the figure from a discarded piece of Chalk, using a Flint knife, thus proving how easy it was to make a "goddess" of this kind (Russell, 2000).

For historians and archaeologists, the matter of whether or not the Chalk Goddess is real is obviously of importance. However, for magical practitioners, this need not necessarily be the case. Even if the figure was made by Armstrong or any other hoaxer, it has already developed a considerable aura of power and presence. This was evident from her appearance at the Unearthed exhibition at the Sainsbury Centre, in Norwich, when this Chalk Lady returned to the county, from the British Museum, where she currently resides, to take her place amongst a wealth of Japanese figures, known as dogu, and a collection of South East European figurines. She was placed in a large glass display cabinet, some distance from the other exhibits, in an area of dim lighting. Rounding the corner, and coming face to face with her, was a breath-taking experience. She exudes enchantment and significance, small and simple as she is in mundane terms. Of course, she could well have the ability to embody the Lady, however recently she was made. Magical practitioners are well aware of how quickly depictions of deities can become ensouled, and it must have delighted her to return to Norfolk, if only on a temporary visit.

The face of the Grimes Graves Goddess is very simple and plain, with no adornments. However, the Lady of Norfolk most definitely has an aspect as a horned goddess. Sometimes these are the antlers of a Deer, unusual in Does, of course, but an apt crown for a one of such quiet power.At other times, she appears to bear upon her head the points of the crescent Moon, reflecting the soft whiteness of her stone.

Although the Lady of Norfolk is a gentle and approachable deity, abuse of what she offers us met with retribution. Her gifts have been quarried and mined for centuries, and the city of Norwich still has many places where it is obvious that quantities of stone have been removed, leaving strange, scooped out forms in the hillside. Chalk mining was at its height during the industrial revolution when large quantities were required for quicklime, and an unmapped labyrinth of old mining tunnels extends for miles underneath the city. Occasionally, one of these tunnels collapses, opening up a vast chasm in someone's garden, bringing down part of a building, or stopping traffic, as famously happened in 1988, when a bus fell into a hole which opened up on Earlham Road, not far from the city centre.”

—

Of Chalk & Flint:

A Way of Norfolk Magic

by Val Thomas

#of chalk & flint #Val Thomas #witching goddess #traditional withcraft #Norfolk Magic

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thejudgingtrash · 4 years

Text

[ID: A dark camping side with a fire pit in the foreground. A white frame highlights the logs and the fire. Orange sparks ascend into the sky. Underneath the white frame stands the title ‘A Warm Place at the Fire’. End of ID.]

As promised, @goldendaysareahead a little fanfic about my Camp Hestia AU!

I hope you enjoy it and thank you for @the-real-annabeth-chase for being yet again an amazing beta!

A Warm Place at the Fire (3,8k)

“There! We’ve almost made it!” yelled Bode. His hooves would have brought him much faster near his goal if it weren’t for the mortal legs next to him that trampled to keep up with his speed. Thunder crackled in the distance which made Bode’s brown skin glow in an unusual pale blue.

The satyr looked over his shoulder. His enhanced hearing made him filter out the noise much better. It also helped him focus on the danger behind him. The growls, the hissing and the mass that the animal carried as it surged ahead to kill its prey. “Don’t look behind you!” panted Bode as his friend was about to turn his head.

“Are you kidding me?” coughed the young boy. His legs were burning, and his lungs felt like they were set on fire. “Look who’s talking!”

“Parker, now’s not the time!”

Thunder.

Everything today fell apart. Everything today was nothing but a major disaster. Everything… was simply strange. Parker was used to strange things. He had a vivid fantasy as a kid and always talked about the plants singing for him before he started elementary school. But today really took the cake.

It started with Parker failing three reports at school and slowly peaked to Parker’s father getting robbed in his shop, to said father calling Bode to tell him to put Parker far away in a summer camp for gifted kids out of all places and now after running through the busy streets of New York City, a hell of a ride in a taxi cab that three blind ladies who fought over one single eyeball drove, some weird animal hybrid had sensed them and decided to hunt them the minute they arrived in Long Island.

Oh, and Bode Underwood, Parker’s newfound best friend and neighbor who had just transferred to his middle school, was apparently a satyr with the hairiest goat legs Parker had ever seen and he even had tiny horns hidden in his tight black curls.

The earth shook. It was an earthquake. It had to be an earthquake. But the way the ruptures of the earth had shifted it was clear that it could not be an earthquake. The massive body of an animal still wanted its prey. Tearing two children apart was what he desired.

“There! We’ve almost made it, hold on, Parker!” hissed Bode.

Parker was trying to not land on his face as the path became muddier. It had rained the previous days in New York. “Look! The sign!”

Parker’s eyes followed Bode’s arm. It was true. Deep into the forest there was an archway. It was made out of marble and a wooden sign said New Athens. Behind the archway were… buildings? Houses? Didn’t Parker’s dad tell him that he would be brought into a summer camp? As the two boys came closer Parker could even read the small insignia underneath: formerly known as Camp Half-Blood.

A roar made both nearly jump. The animal. The monster. It also hissed?

Parker jumped over a fallen tree branch and Bode bleated. Oh, he’s really a goat, Parker thought.

A roar. Parker felt the heat in his back. Was he imagining acid tearing his jeans jacket apart or was it truly happening? He had no time to care about it.

The two boys nearly reached the archway. “JUMP!” yelled Bode and Parker did. The both of them slid through the archway and were greeted with silence. Parker vowed to himself to never slide on mud again. The taste of grass and dirt was truly displeasing. No wind was howling and only the echoing songs of the cicadas kept them company.

This so-called camp looked strange. It was a clash of cultures. It was a fight between new and old. To Parkers right it did look like the old grounds of a camp. They looked like they had sporting events, a dinner area and a large area for all kinds of other activities. It would have been fairly normal if it weren’t for deadly ancient weapons lying around in front of a cabin and the dozens of cabins themselves. Each cabin had a different character to it as if they were dedicated to someone. They radiated a strange force. Parker instinctively knew that it was old and ancient, that it was powerful.

The left of the campgrounds were the polar opposite. It wasn’t just buildings and houses. It was an entire city. It was a huge construction side with many finished and unfinished buildings. A city so big yet so hidden deep in the woods of Long Island. The architecture was astounding, and the design was precise and heavily inspired by the world of Ancient Greece.

Was that a CVS out of all things placed into something that looked like the pantheon? And it had a Trader Joe’s next to it in something that looked like another temple? An entire Ancient Greek Taco Bell with a crunch wrap supreme advertisement that had a lightning bolt pressed into its side?! And in the middle of the city was an old market place like in Hollywood movies?

What’s going on? asked Parker himself.

A big blue house seemed to draw the line between old and new. The old ways and the new life. The yesterday and the new beginning at dawn. The old life that Parker had and the new one that rose like a phoenix from its ashes.

Yes, Bode and he made it. The boys had truly made it. They were alive and safe! For now. They gave each other a high five as they rested on the ground and thanked the shining stars above them for their guidance.

A clash disrupted their celebratory mood. The beast. Parker finally saw it in its entire glory. The head of a lion. The back of a reptile? Was that a dragon? And its tale was a snake out of all things?

Fearsome snarls and growls were drowned out behind the invisible layer that prevented the beast from entering campgrounds. The piercing yellow eyes shifted and tried to find the mortal flesh it desired only to be disappointed. The barrier was too strong to be penetrated. The massive beast turned around and was lost from Parker’s sight as it became one with the forest’s darkness. Parker’s adrenaline rush slowly faded away and his heart rate returned to normal.

What he felt rushing over him was a wave of fatigue. He felt the aching pain of his burning lungs that demanded more oxygen, the pain in his bones and muscles that wanted some rest. The young boy sank into the soft grass and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Bode only patted his shoulder as he sat down next to him. The satyr was tired but not as exhausted as the camp’s newest family member.

“You’ve made it,” Bode whispered.

“You’ve made it here, safely! Everything will be alright once the moon chariot sets and the one of the sun rises, we’ll take the entire day to truly process what happens and make a plan about what your father had said, alright?” Parker was too tired to realize the true meanings behind Bode’s words. He only mumbled a “yeah,” and tried to breathe with a steady rhythm.

“Hey Parker,” Bode started, “You just survived the chimera which is something I’m incredibly thankful as that beast has killed other kids prior.”

Chimera? For some odd reason that weird Hercules movie from Disney came to Parker’s mind. “It did what now?”

Bode raised his hands in defense. “Woah hold your horses! No one was seriously injured – this time.” he said.

“What’s important is that you’ll catch your breath and meet the new camp director. Right there at the fireplace.” Bode pointed into the distance and Parker’s gaze followed. “I know all of this is new and weird to you, especially since this place isn’t the most organized, but trust me.”

It was true what Bode said. The juxtaposition between the two worlds that clashed at Camp Half-Blood were simply weird to Parker’s unaccustomed eyes. But there! At the old camp site, right at the edge of old and new, there she was. A woman poking a log with what looked like a golden hook. She wore a brown gown and held a hand to the flames. The flames rose and Parker was worried that the strange lady might have singed her eyebrows accidentally. But no. It was the opposite. It was as if the fire were dancing for her. As if it’s flaring was a beautiful melody for her eyes and only her eyes.

The orange and yellow and golden streaks of the flames were hypnotizing. Parker didn’t even realize how he was already standing up on his two feet and walking towards the pit. Bode followed him. The pit looked small in the distance but only enlarged close up. Parker didn’t feel fear – it was the polar opposite. He felt as calm as he had never been before. The young boy stopped.

“Parker Mbata,” the woman smiled and turned her head to him. The reflection of the flames danced in her eyes and Parker knew that the orange highlighted his beautiful black skin. Beautiful dark skin that she had as well.

“How do you know my name?” he asked her and raised an eyebrow. His voice cracked; he didn’t want to appear impolite as that was what most people thought wrongfully about him. The woman only smiled and pointed to a seat next to her. She was middle-aged and her black braids would probably reach her knees if she had been standing upright. She was pretty. A round face that loved to smile. It wasn’t the movie star look, but she had the calm and grace of someone who had seen much of the world and was able to see the wonderful side of things.

For Parker, she had the aura of a friendly aunt that would help out with homework, try to play on a console with you and would bake here and there from time to time with you. Rib crushing hugs, hands that drove through hair, a pat on the shoulder that said: “No matter how far you’ll go, remember that I’ll always be proud of you.”

If it hadn’t been merely the surface level of her being. She was no ordinary woman like his math teacher – of that Parker was certain. Her eyes. The gleam of the orange nourished her skin and highlighted her beauty. The warmth in her eyes radiated the power of a thousand hugs.

She reeked of power that should never be underestimated.

“I know the names of all new campers,” she simply answered with an honest smile on her face.

“Thank you, Bode.” The woman said and shifted her gaze to the young satyr next to him. Parker could have sworn that he saw his best friend blush at the compliment. That or it was a simple illusion from the fire. “You may now go to your parents’ house. I’m sure Juniper is still waiting on the porch, and Grover will be over the moon with your first search that was a successful one at that.”

The corner of Bode’s mouth threatened to tear his face apart from grinning so big. “See you tomorrow, Parker!” he said before he bowed to the weird lady.

Parker waved goodbye and saw how lights of lanterns turned on in the modern part of the camp as Bode crossed the streets. They turned off again automatically as he turned to the left.

“You may call me Hestia. I’m the new camp director of Camp Half-Blood.”

“Hestia,” Parker repeated, and he saw how she nodded.

“This is a camp for very special people,” Hestia continued and poked the fire. A flame erupted and rose to the sky. “You are safe in here. No monsters or other meddlers will interfere within camp boarders or in the wider city of New Athens. You will train like other half-bloods, find your strength and weaknesses so that you may survive into adulthood and now how to protect yourself and those that you love.”

Half-blood? Monsters? Survive into adulthood? The questions stood bright on Parker’s face as his dark brown eyes widened.

Hestia laughed and patted his back. The warm feeling of being comforted flooded Parker’s body.

“You look an awful lot like my sister,” Hestia said after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

“People just say that I look like my dad only with a better fade on the sides of my head,” Parker denied. “Also, how can I look like your sister?”

Hestia grinned yet again and shook her head. The golden jewelry on her braids clanged. “That is not what I mean, Parker,” Hestia stated.

“Her personality. Her abilities. Her capabilities. All of that and more I see in you. After all, she is your mother.”

Parker’s jaw dropped. Hestia was actually his aunt? She knew his mother? How?! His father had always told him that his mother was a busy person and big in the botanic scene, chasing new discovery after new discovery and that that was the reason why she was never around. Also, Parker had the suspicion that she had fled the country so that she didn’t have to pay child support.

“But I see more in you. Further down your line.” Hestia placed her index finger underneath his chin and lifted it up slightly.

“I can see Morpheus as your great-grandfather. I can see Hermes even further down there.”

“Hermes like the Greek god?”

“Yes, my nephew is a funny albeit sometimes exhausting one.”

“So you want to say that I’m a descendant of Greek gods?”

Hestia nodded. “That I do.”

Parker coughed. Hestia was worried. She waved her hand in the air and Parker had to suppress the scream that was bubbling inside of him as a bottle with a clear liquid appeared. Now he definitely believed her. It wasn’t for the fact that a terrible monster had hunted him for nearly two hours earlier.

“Here drink this slowly. Do not haste, I’d rather not clean up the burnt remains of my newest nephew,” she winked. Parker took the bottle and a first sip.

“Nectar. The drink of the gods. It heals you demigods but too much and it’ll set you on fire.”

The drink tasted like good times. Like the fondest memories that had been deeply buried inside of Parker. The fudgy chocolate brownies with a hint of peanut butter that his father used to make for him whenever he had a good mood. And now his father had sent him away.

The disappointment hit Parker harder than the strenuous activity that had been fleeing the chimera earlier. Hestia sensed his mood and decided to distract him.

“Normally I start camp tours and initiations in the mornings, but I see that I should start out early. You aren’t the only new camper but who would mind a little head start?”, she winked again. “Let me do it differently as well. We used to show a terrible introduction movie around to introduce you into the new world but the reception has been mostly negative.”

Okay thought Parker and nodded slowly.

“How do you feel about your classmates? The Jackson twins?”

Parker narrowed his eyebrows. The twins were weird in a way that most twins were. They were definitely the sort of twins that could read each other’s minds and answer for one another if it weren’t for the fact that they seemed to annoy each other. Apart from that, they were also very friendly and sat down at lunch with him at school despite their constant bickering going on Parker’s nerves.

Ari was the more out-going and bold one and her twin Theo was quieter and more reserved. And he wore glasses that he always readjusted. Parker was definitely not fond of him. No, he was absolutely not. And the swoon in the pit of his stomach that he felt was something he would ignore for the time being.

The more important question: what did the twins have to do with all of this? Hestia grinned as if she had read all of his thoughts and emotions. “As much as I adore Ariadne and Theodoros, we need to begin a generation earlier with their parents. I have much to thank them for.”

Hestia’s immortal memory brought her pictures back that happened decades ago. As her brother threatened to smite Perseus Jackson for daring to stand up to him and ask him for another wish instead of the gift of immortality.

“From now on, I want you to properly recognize the children of the gods. All the children . . . of all the gods,” young Perseus Jackson wished. “I want you to promise to claim your children—all your demigod children—by the time they turn thirteen. They won't be left out in the world on their own at the mercy of monsters. I want them claimed and brought to camp so they can be trained right and survive.”

Oh, how her youngest brother had been furious. “And the minor gods,” Perseus exclaimed. “Nemesis, Hecate, Morpheus, Janus, Hebe—they all deserve a general amnesty and a place at Camp Half-Blood. Their children shouldn't be ignored. Calypso and the other peaceful Titan-kind should be pardoned too. And Hades as well. As for Hestia and him, I have another wish for them. Give them their seats in the Olympian council back.”

That demand made the eyebrows of Poseidon and Athena rise as Zeus’ mouth grew into an even thinner line.

And then Perseus Jackson had turned around to her and had given her the biggest gift she had ever received in her immortal life. “And aunt Hestia, you are the heart and soul of Mount Olympus. You are the guidance and comfort we seek, the hope that remains in our very core. With your permission—the permission from all gods—I’d ask Hestia if she would like to lead Camp Half-Blood as a new co-camp director alongside Chiron and Dionysus until he is done with his punishment?”

Then Hestia did only two things. Hug the savior of Olympus and accept his gracious gift to her as Zeus was legally bound to make his nephews wishes come true.

“Mr. Jackson did all of these things when he was a teenager? With his—uhhh—future wife? And Bode’s dad?” The tales of him having that much influence seemed too great and big and so… unrealistic? Parker couldn’t believe that Percy Jackson was that sort of man. He was a pastry baker and started crying whenever his wife butchered the name of one of his fancy creations according to Ari. That and he was supposedly very busy with his bakery Blue Jackson’s in Downtown Manhattan and another subsidiary in Los Angeles. And that person persuaded Olympian gods as a teenager? Saved the world as a child?

“I mean Mr. Jackson is just a baker,” Parker shrugged. “And Mrs. Chase is this crazy busy architect that also plays mom taxi somehow and drives her kids around while she’s running from meeting to meeting?” At least that was what Theo had texted him ages ago.

Hestia pointed to the beautiful city of New Athens. Not the majestic buildings that stood proudly there surrounding the market place but beyond that where the façade began to crack as the largest construction side he had ever seen. “Yes, Annabeth is incredibly busy with her occupation. As it was she that bore the grounds of New Athens as a safe haven for your kind. Do you see that house on the hill?”

It was pompous, enormous and combined the modern and ancient style beautifully. A light on the second floor was on. “The residence of the Jackson-Chase’s.”

Parker’s jaw dropped. These people must have been filthy rich. No wonder that Mr. Jackson ordered flower arrangements on the regular from his dad. Those pieces were expensive. Parker’s eyes shifted slightly to the left. A few feet away was a Blue Jackson’s bakery right next to the house. Easy commute for Mr. Jackson.

“The illuminated room is Annabeth’s office. It seems like she is still working on her designs.”

The light was suddenly switched off. “Oh!” Hestia sounded surprised. “It looks like Perseus was for once successful in telling his wife she ought to sleep. Oh well.”

Parker snickered.

“After all it is way past two in the morning. You should also rest so soon.”

But Parker didn’t want to. He was wrapped up in the tales that Hestia told him. The middle schooler reassured Hestia that he was yet not entirely worn out. The goddess sighed like a tired mother.

“And it was she, Annabeth, that restored the honor of the gods and built a cabin for every one of us gods—even the ones without half-bloods—so that we have places for our children, visitors and prayers. Until you are claimed, you will stay at Cabin Zero—my cabin,” Hestia smiled.

“We all start at Zero. We all start from nothing only to learn and to grow into something. You will find new friends, a new life, a new home. Just like your parents intended and. I am sure that Mr. Mbata will arrive soon safely at camp. I have given him instructions to hide in a secret place due to the monsters starting to sense you.”

That made Parker smile and relief spread throughout him. He would be reunited with his father very soon.

“You remind me very much of Perseus Jackson, Parker Mbata. Since the introduction movie left a sour taste in many campers and inhabitants of New Athens and you do not appear to be so sleepy, let me retell the tale of Perseus Jackson from the beginning. The most famous demigod of them all. Greater than any other hero the Greek pantheon had ever seen.”

The flames seemed to dance around goddess and demigod. “He was just like you. Small, a little bit on the scrawny side…”

Parker frowned a little bit, but Hestia giggled at her backhanded compliment.

“A half-blood. A child of man and god… Perseus gets quite frequently asked to retell his story. At first, he did so begrudgingly. He wrote his memories down. For his and anyone else’s sake. Had an entire folder with papers in his hand as he sat down. But now he grew confident and into an incredible speaker. He speaks from his heart and not from paper.”

Hestia inhaled sharply. The eldest child of Kronos turned her face to the red of the flames to recount the events that happened nearly twenty years ago.

“Perseus always starts his stories with ‘look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood’…”

The End

I’m not really an OC person but I hope you enjoyed this little thought experiment regardless ;>

If anyone is interested in my other fanfics, I can offer you How Could You (Percabeth, sad, finished) and The Fool (Percabeth, mystery, on-going) :3

#pjo #Percy Jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #camp half blood #chb #hestia #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo fanfic #mel writes #demigods of color

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breathingmotherearth · 3 years

Text

Fig Tree

By Mike Shanahan

17 January 2017 BBC Earth

Over 2,000 years ago, an important tree had one of its branches removed on the order of Indian emperor Ashoka the Great. It was under this very tree that the Buddha is said to have attained enlightenment. Ashoka bestowed kingship on the branch, and planted it in a thick-rimmed solid gold vase.

He then took the branch over mountains and down the Ganges River to the Bay of Bengal. There, his daughter carried it aboard a ship and sailed for Sri Lanka to present it to the king. Ashoka loved the plant so much that he shed tears as he watched it leave.

This story, from the epic poem The Mahavamsa, is about a kind of fig tree scientists call Ficus Religiosa. True to its name, an unbroken line of devotion towards it stretches back to thousands of years before Ashoka's time.

But F. Religiosa is not alone. It is just one of more than 750 fig species. No other plants have held such sway over human imagination. They feature in every major religion and have influenced kings and queens, scientists and soldiers. They played roles in human evolution and the dawn of civilization. These trees have not only witnessed history; they have shaped it. If we play it right, they could even enrich our future.

Most flowering plants display their blooms for all to see, but the Ficus species hide them away inside their hollow figs. And while most plants bury their roots underground, the strangler figs and their kin show them off.

They can even smother and kill giant trees, growing into colossal forms.

Take Ashoka the Great's F. religiosa. Buddhists, Hindus and Jains have revered this species for more than two millennia. The same tree featured in battle hymns sung by the Vedic people 3,500 years ago. And, 1,500 years earlier, it appeared in the myths and art of the Indus Valley Civilization.

Elsewhere in Asia — indeed across the tropics and subtropics — cultures have adopted fig trees as symbols of power and places of prayer. These figs feature in creation stories, folklore and fertility rites. The champion is the Indian banyan (Ficus benghalensis), a tree so big it can resemble a small forest from afar.

Banyans grow so large because the roots they drop from their branches can merge into stout pillars as thick as English oak trees. These false trunks support the banyan's huge branches, enabling them to grow longer and send down even more roots.

One banyan in Uttar Pradesh is said to be immortal. Another in Gujarat is said to have grown from a twig used as a toothbrush. A third is believed to have sprung up where a woman threw herself onto her husband's burning funeral pyre and died. That tree, in Andhra Pradesh, can shelter 20,000 people.

The first Europeans to enjoy a banyan's shade were Alexander the Great and his soldiers, who arrived in India in 326 BCE. Their tales of this tree soon reached the Greek philosopher Theophrastus, the founder of modern botany. He had been studying the edible fig, Ficus Carica.

Each Ficus species has its own wasp pollinator.

Theophrastus had noticed tiny insects entering or emerging from figs. Their story would turn out to be one of the most astounding in all of biology. More than 2,000 years would pass before scientists realized that each Ficus species has its own wasp pollinator, while some even have two. Likewise, each fig-wasp species can only lay its eggs in the flowers of its partner figs.

This relationship began more than 80 million years ago and has shaped the world ever since. Ficus species must produce figs year-round to ensure their pollinator wasps survive. This is great news for fruit-eating animals that would otherwise struggle to find food for much of the year. Indeed, figs sustain more species of wildlife than any other kinds of fruit.

More than 1,200 species eat figs, including one-tenth of all the world's birds, nearly all known fruit-bats and dozens of species of primates, dispersing their seeds as they do so. Ecologists therefore call figs "keystone resources". Like the keystone of a bridge, if figs disappeared everything else could come crashing down.

Figs do not only nourish animals. The year-round presence of ripe figs would have helped sustain our early human ancestors.

High-energy figs may have helped our ancestors to develop bigger brains. There is also a theory that suggests our hands evolved as tools for assessing which figs are soft, and therefore sweet and rich in energy. While the first humans benefitted from fig biology, their descendants mastered it. Ficus species are among the first plants people domesticated, several thousand years ago.

Farmers even trained monkeys to climb trees and harvest them

The ancient Egyptians seized upon a species called Ficus Sycomorus, whose pollinator wasp was either locally extinct or had never arrived. By rights, this species should not have yielded a single ripe fig. But through a stroke of luck or genius, farmers worked out that they could trick the tree into ripening its figs by gashing them with a blade. Before long, the figs were a mainstay of Egyptian agriculture. Farmers even trained monkeys to climb trees and harvest them.

Egypt's fig trees fed both bellies and beliefs. The Pharaohs took dried figs to their graves in order to sustain their souls on their journey into the afterlife. They believed the mother goddess Hathor would emerge from a mythic fig tree to welcome them into heaven.

To the north and east, the Egyptian fig's sweeter cousin, F. Carica, became an important food to several other ancient civilizations. The Sumerian King Urukagina wrote about them nearly 5,000 years ago. King Nebuchadnezzar II had them planted in the hanging gardens of Babylon. King Solomon of Israel praised them in song. The ancient Greeks and Romans said figs were heaven-sent. Their allure can perhaps be explained by another crucial point. Aside from being sweet and tasty, they are also packed with fibre,vitamins and minerals. These nutritional benefits have long been known. "Figs are restorative," wrote 1st-century Roman philosopher Pliny the Elder, "and the best food that can be taken by those who are brought low by long sickness."

A famous example of the healing power of figs appears in the Bible. Hezekiah, King of Judah, was "sick even to death" with a plague of boils but recovered after his servants applied a paste of crushed figs to his skin.

These chimps may have been self-medicating

The healing power of fig species is not limited to their fruit. Medicines developed over millennia by people throughout the tropics make use of their bark, leaves, roots and latex.

The use of fig trees as living medicine cabinets may even pre-date the origin of our species. Our closest living relatives, chimpanzees, also appear to turn to these trees for their curative powers, suggesting our common ancestor with them did too.

Researchers working in Uganda occasionally observed chimps eating unusual foods, such as the bark and leaves of wild fig trees. These chimps may have been self-medicating, the researchers concluded. And for good reason, tests show that compounds in the fig leaves and bark are effective against bacteria, parasites and tumours.

Fig trees have not only helped civilizations and cultures rise. They have also watched them fall, and have even helped to hide their ruins. For instance, the great cities of the Indus Valley Civilization boomed between 3300 and 1500 BCE, but they were lost to history until 1827, when a deserter on the run from the East India Company called Charles Masson arrived there. The fig trees helped forests return and overwhelm the abandoned buildings Giant Strangler trees dominated the landscape. Ruins poked out of mysterious mounds. Local people told Masson they were relics of a society that collapsed after some divine intervention corrected the "lusts and crimes of the sovereign". In fact, it was a prolonged drought that brought down the Indus Valley Civilization Strangler figs also replaced drought-stricken people at the Mayan pyramids at Tikal in Guatemala, and the Khmer temples of Angkor Wat in Cambodia. In each case, the fig trees helped forests return and overwhelm the abandoned buildings.

Their seeds germinated in cracks in the stonework. Their roots ripped masonry apart and crushed walls with their weight. Their figs attracted animals that in turn dispersed seeds of dozens of other tree species. And so, the forest reclaimed these sites. This power has also been observed on volcanoes like Krakatoa, whose 1883 eruption purged the island of all life. Fig trees that recolonized the bare lava were instrumental in encouraging forest to form anew. Across the tropics scientists are now replicating this effect, planting fig trees to accelerate rainforest regeneration in areas where trees have been lost due to logging. All this means fig trees can provide hope for a future with a changing climate.

Fig trees could also help us adapt to extreme conditions.

In north-east India, people encourage fig roots to cross rivers, enlace and thicken to form robust bridges, saving lives in monsoon rains. In Ethiopia, fig trees are helping farmers adapt to drought by providing vital shade to crops and fodder to goats. These two approaches can also be applied elsewhere.

In all, fig trees can help us limit climate change, protect biodiversity and improve livelihoods, as long as we continue to plant and protect these trees, as humankind has done for millennia.

Many cultures around the world developed taboos against felling fig trees. Unfortunately today, these beliefs are fading from memory. We would do well to revive them.

Their long history serves as a reminder that we are the ones who are recent arrivals on an Earth in an 80-million-year-long Age of Ficus. Our future will be more secure if we put these trees in our plans.

Mike Shanahan is a freelance writer with a doctorate in rainforest ecology. His new book about fig trees is out now (published in the UK as Ladders to Heaven and in North America as Gods, Wasps and Stranglers).

#figtree #nature #motherearth #spirituality #happy tree friends

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make-me-imagine · 4 years

Note

I would love a ship please! For Stargate (SG1 or SGA) and Sherlock. With the prompts "Friends to Lovers" and "Fake gf/bf" however you see fit. I am female but don't care about the ships gender. I changed from working in science to being a science teacher. I love learning about anything and working out. People say I am loyal, determined, honest and analytical but can tend to be too ambitious / overwork. I am very fit and play soccer but also enjoy videogames and guitar. Flannel leather j. style.

Special 5k Ship Event (Read post if your going to request)

Hope you like them! I’m having a bit of trouble writing today so forgive me if the drabbles seem a bit lazy, I cant seem to focus on being creative today :/

Stargate:

I ship you with Jack. He would appreciate your ambitious and determined behavior, but would chastise you if you overwork yourself. You two often work out together, and do outdoor activities on the weekends. He trusts you more than most people and knows that you always have his back, just as he has yours.

Prompt: Fake Boyfriend/Girlfriend

You stared at the other people around you as you thought about how you got into this situation. Siting side by side with Jack, closer than you’ve probably ever been. You were stranded on a new planet, having been separated from the gate as well as the others due to a storm. The people in a nearby village took you in, though you found that they had an odd social behavior in which men and women could not associate unless married.

“Well, it’s a good thing we are married then” Jack had said, when the people first pointed out that you two were so close and that it was taboo.

You took a sip of the unusual drink one of the villagers had given you as Jack leaned in to whisper into your ear “We’ll stay here for the night and head back for the gate in the morning”

Nodding you noticed one of the village leaders smiling at you, returning the gesture he leaned forward a bit “I can see that you two have a strong bond, you must have been together for quite some time”

You and Jack shared a look before Jack smiled at the man “Oh, well, we’ve been together for about, two years, give or take” he said, taking a drink as you nodded along, ignoring your pounding heart.

Two years is as long as you had been working at the SGC, and two years since you met Jack. Two years since you developed feelings for him. Feelings that were returned by him. But though both of you knew of these feelings for each other, a relationship between you two was not allowed.

Knowing that he’d probably not get the chance again anytime soon, Jack wrapped his arm around your side, pulling you a bit closer. He knew that he could use the excuse that it was to keep up appearances, but, there was no need for excuses. Not around you, so instead he would cherish these intimate moments with you while he could.

After having been shown to small cabin to sleep for the night, you and Jack stared at the small bed.

“Want to rock paper scissors for it? you asked as he began taking of his shoes.

“Nope”

“No?”

“Why would we?” he said as he sat on the bed “We’re married remember?” He glanced at you, smirk on his face “Besides, what if one of those snoopy villagers peaks in tonight and sees us separated like that? Can’t offend the locals now can we?” he relaxed lying back on the bed patting the area beside him “Now come on, we need to get some rest”

You stared at him for a moment, wondering when he got so brave. He really wanted to take this chance while he could didn’t he? Pushing back your nerves, you took off your shoes and lied down next to him.

Your bodies were touching as you lied in the small space, both of you staring up at the roof in silence. After a few minutes Jack broke the silence “Nice folks here, odd, but nice”

You chuckled quietly at his attempt at conversation “Go to sleep Jack”

He smiled to himself at he use of his name, you only ever referred to him as Colonel, except on rare occasions, and every time it made his heart flutter. “Yes m’am” he muttered as he turned over, blowing out a lantern on the side table.

As you lied in the darkness, slowly drifting to sleep, you both thought silently of how you would keep the intimate touches at the dinner between you, there was really no need to go into detail on reports. Just like there was no need to mention you sleeping in the same bed, or how Jacks arms wrapped around you in the darkness as he held you against him throughout the night.

Sherlock:

I ship you with John. He would find you to a refreshing presence in his life. You listen to his rambles and rants about something stupid Sherlock did, and he listens to you talk about your work and things that are stressing you out. He enjoys your company so much that he hates days when he cannot see you. Though he is not one for video games, he will play with you sometimes when he wants to cheer you up.

Prompt: Friends to Lovers

Somewhere along the way, your’s and John’s nights-out to a bar to have dinner and rant about your day became less like two best-friends going out for a fun night, and more like date-night.

And at some point, your quick walks home became John walking you home to make sure you got home okay. And then those walks became detours through the park as you two talked and laughed.

One night, things changed even more so, not so suddenly, but naturally. You and John walking side by side, shoulders brushing. And as a large group of people went by, you two moved aside, backs up against a fence, Johns hand slipping into yours as he helped you maneuver past the crowd.

Without even realizing, his hand never left yours. Not until you got to your apartment and he realized he had still been holing on to you. You shared a shy chuckled before you decided to give him a kiss on the cheek as a parting goodbye.

The next night out, you didn’t hold hands, but the cheek kiss became a normal thing, And eventually, hand holding did as well. You never talked about it up front, instead you relished in each others company and the gentle intimacy of your intertwined hands. It became so natural, so normal.

Until one day, when a man during a case you were helping out with decided to flirt with you. You patently and kindly went along with his conversation, not really responding to his flirty remarks.

Eventually, John, having picked up on the situation (after a hint from Sherlock), he came over to save you. Introducing himself to the man with a not so subtle annoyance at the mans presence.

“So are you two colleagues?” the man asked, referring to you and John.

“Yes” John answered “And I’m her boyfriend” he added on quickly.

The man, having suddenly felt awkward, came up with an excuse before shuffling away.

You smiled, amused at his sudden departure. Turning to John you chuckled “Boyfriend huh?”

John smiled cheekily at you “Of course, it’s only natural. Us being together.” Taking your hand in his, he lead you out of the room, ignoring the smirk from Sherlock as you passed by.

#ship #ship request #5k ships #5k event #5k event ships #special ships #ask #stargate #sg1 #jack o'neill #sherlock #john watson #drabble #Anon #jack o'neill x reader #john watson x reader #o'neill x reader

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renee-writer · 4 years

Text

Autumn

One Shot Moodboard challenge. Thanks to @molecularstardust for the beautiful moodboard.💓💓💓💓

It is her favorite time of year. With the beautiful colors and the crisp but, not yet cold, air. She doesn't like the common name for it, fall. Autumn more describes the taste of cider, the sound of crunching leaves under her boots, smell of the coming winter.

Besides, autumn is when she meet him. She was sitting on a bench in the park, her head laid back, doing nothing more then enjoying the feel of the breeze against her skin. Between classes, she can't handle being inside.

“May I join you lass?” She looks up into the bluest eyes, the color of the cloudless sky above her and a head of hair as red as a changing maple leaf.

“Ah sure.” He sits beside her, drawing his long legs under the bench.

“Jamie Fraser.” He offers his hand.

“Claire Beauchamp.” She takes it. He gently squeezes it.

“Beauchamp? French but your accent is English.”

“I had a very unusual childhood. I am surprised you picked up the English Mr. Fraser. Must people hear the many combined ones and can't quite place it.”

“Jamie. I've an ear for the English accent.”

“Growing up in Scotland?”

“Aye. I guess we are both outsiders here.”

“Yes. My Uncle said Harvard was the best so..” she shrugs.

“My da said the same. What is your field of study, Miss Beauchamp?”

“Claire. Medicine and yours Jamie?”

“Law. Seems we are two ambitious people, eh Claire?” She thoroughly enjoys the thrill that runs up her spine at the way he says her name.

“Seems so. Oh, I must be off. Have class. I will see you around Jamie.” She stands and he stands with her.

“Wait lass.” He places something in her hand. She looks down to see an small index card with his name and number on it. “So we can stay in touch, eh?”

“Thank you Jamie. Not much of a caller but will text you.”

“That will be fine Claire.” She walks to class on lighter feet.

She does text him later that day. She had returned to her little apartment, a mile of campus and pulled the card out of the front pocket of her jeans where it had been all day. She smiles as she enters his number in her phone, saving it under Jamie, the scot. She then kicks of her boots and, curling up in her favorite chair, she text him.

“Hi Jamie. It is your favorite future doctor.” She then turns to her course work. She is in the midst of studying the names of the bones in the hand, when her phone dings.

“How do you know you are my favorite future doctor, eh?”

With a smile, she replies,” So I've competition?”

She watches as little dots appear and disappear, as he changes his mind. Then.

“No.” A few more dots. “No in no way Claire.”

She stares at the phone. What she had meet as a tease, he had made serious. How was she to respond?

“I was teasing.” She decides on honesty.

“I wasn't. Don't..” Dots appear and disappear again. “Run Claire. I know... Bloody. Can I call?”

She debates only a second. “Yes.” Her heart hammers as she waits for it to ring. Finally.

“Hi.”

“Hi Claire. Have I scared you? Will you block my number?”

“I wouldn’t have answered or even gave you permission to call, if that were so. I am puzzled though.”

“At what?”

“I was really teasing. Your response..”

“Yah. I thought about joking back but… I know we just meet and hardly know each other but I feel a pull between us that won't allow me to be nothing but less then honest.”

“I do too. What is this?”

“I don't know but I know I want to see you. Want to talk with you. Want, well, a lot. But will start with dinner. Will you let me take you out?”

“Yes.”

She is in a semi panic state as she gets ready that night. She hasn't had a serious boyfriend for years and that was in upper school. Never as an adult. This feels serious. As serious as they come.

She pulls her hair up then lets it back down. Slips on slacks then changes into a dress. “Get a grip Beauchamp.” She firmly orders herself. Finally she decides hair down and a red dress that shows her figure to perfection.

He knocks on her door right on time and she almost trips over her heels getting to it. She will never make it through dinner if she doesn’t get her nerves under control. So before opening the door, she takes several cleansing breaths.

She opens the door to find Jamie in kakis and a blue button down shirt that shows off his eyes. Lord, he is gorgeous. She finds him staring at her.

“Jamie?”

“Lass, God you are so beautiful.”

“You are quite handsome yourself. Shall we go?”

“Ah yes before I.. Yes let's go.” She locks up and he takes her hand. It feels good and she links their fingers. With their wrist resting against each other, she can feel his heartbeat. It is as fast as hers.

The restaurant he chose has a stunning view of the changing leaves. He pulls out her chair and she glazes out the window at them. They bring her some much needed peace. After their drink orders are taken and the hostess leaves, she fully turns to Jamie.

“You like the changing of the colors.” He states.

“I do. It is my favorite season, Autumn. With the cool but not cold nights, the beauty of the changing leaves, hot cider and sweaters. Truly what is not to love.”

“Aye but you missed one.” He is smiling mischievously at her and she can’t resist the bait.

“That is?”

“It is also cuddle under a quilt or tarden weather. Cuddle weather, eh?”

“Yes.” Her breath is coming short again. His hand reaches across the table to cover hers. Their waitress arrives with their drinks and take their orders. Jamie asks her to come back as they hadn't even taken time to look at the menus yet.

“Shall we decide and then talk?”

“A good idea.” She agrees.

He looks down at the menu then up at her and finds her doing the same. She blushes and he smiles. After they order, he reaches out to take her hand again.

“Shall we talk about it?”

“Yes let's. This thing between us, it is quite powerful. I've never felt anything like it. I dated a bloke in upper school. Went as far as to sleep with him but never felt like I do when you simply rest your hand on mine. I am fascinated and scared. Thrilled and terrified.”

“There has never been anyone who made my heart pound with just a touch, a look. Never been anyone I can see sharing a life with, children with. Grow old with. There is heat, aye. But it is more then the urge to join bodies. Oh, and it scares me to death too.”

“Oh!” she is breathless and speechless. To know it isn’t just her is reassuring. But, he is talking marriage and babies on their first date. It is all a bit overwhelming.

“Not that I am proposing anything but dinner right now.” He is quick to add when he sees her face. “We need to go on dates. Get to know each other.”

She lets out her breath and he smiles. “That is what we will do. So Jamie, tell me about your family?”

“I've a big brother William and sister Janet, called Willie and Jenny respectively. Willie runs Lallybroch, our families estate since my da, Brian retired. Jenny married my best mate, Ian, five years ago and they have three bairns, Jamie, Maggie, and Kitty.”

“Three, in five years?”

“Aye. Jenny wants a large family and none born after she is 35.”

“Sorry, go on.” He grins at her. They still hold hands across the table. He starts to run his thumb over her palm and she lets out a deep sigh.

“Jenny stays at home with the bairns. Ian runs Lallybroch Distillery. You see, Lallybroch is many things, a working farm, a historic site( it has been in our family for over 300 years), and, the extra grain is made into spirits.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

“It was a good childhood.”

“Your mam?” That he hadn't mentioned her didn’t escaped her notice.

“Ellen. She passed two years ago from cancer.”

“Oh Jamie!” She moves to his side of the bench seat and draws him into her arms. He buries his face in her neck and let's her comfort him. That is how the waitress finds them when she delivers their orders.

“Is all alright?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Claire replies. She gives them a concerned look before setting the food down.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Claire, tell me about yours.” He needs a distraction. She stays on his side and tells him.

“I am an only child. My mum and daddy tried after me but.. So, I was fairly spoiled. My dad and mum are both doctors. My dad a surgeon. My mam an OB/GYN. Growing up, I knew a lot more then I should about the human body. When I was ten, my parents, Julia and Henry, let me spend summer holidays with my dad's brother, Uncle Lambert, who I call Lamb. He is an archeologist, so I spend my summers all over the world. It was wonderful.”

“Wow. That is quite nice Claire. That you was able to experience so much.”

“It was.” They stop talking to eat.

“What was the most unusual thing you saw? When with your Uncle Lamb?” He asks as he walks them back to his car. He holds her hand and she leans against him.

“Hmm, I guess it would be a completely intact room. He and the others uncovered it in Israel. It was a kitchen. The table was still set. It was awesome and strange at the same time. Like the people were just lifted out. Uncle Lamb and the others were quite excited. I was 13 and just wondered where the people went.”

“Did they figure it out?”

“Yes. Seems that it dated to the time of the Roman occupation. They fled and left everything as it was.”

“Wow.” They had reached his car and he opens the door for her. She grins and enters. He joins her. “Is that what fueled your desire to be a doctor, all you saw those summers or was it more your parents?”

“A bit of both. Seeing all the needy people. People dying from lack of simple meds, simple hygiene and clean water. My parents have always done what they could. They have did medical missions, volunteered at free clinics. So yes, both I would say. How about you? What drew you to the law?”

“”Well, I was always argumentative as a child. Had an answer for everything. My sister would tell me,’ You should be a barrister, Jamie. A joke between us, at first. As I got older, I started to see the appeal of it. At first, it was just the idea of getting paid to argue. But, as. I started to research it, I was drawn to the since of fairness, rightness. The idea of justice. Of setting things right again.”

She smiles at him as he starts his car. “A romantic not just monetary draw. Something else we have in common.” She lays her hand beside him and he covers it with his own.

“Aye. Anyone who gets into the law just to get rich, is in it for the wrong reason. Whether on the prosecution or defense side, you are serving the public good. That should be the motivation”

“I feel the same about medicine. You can't be in it for what you get out of it. A public good, as you say.”

“Aye.” He links their fingers as he drives off. He doesn’t want this date to end but knows it must. They need to do it right. This, what is between them, is to important for less.

“I feel it too, you know.” He turns quickly to look at her. “The hesitation about ending this date. I want to..” she trails off with a blush,” But, it is far to soon.”

“Aye, I was thinking the same. You are worth more then that.” He had arrived back at her place and they both sigh. He parks and gets out and opens the door. Taking her to the door “I really want to kiss you., which is why I mustn’t.” Another sigh. He bends down and brushes his lips across her forehead. He then lifts her hands up and kisses them.

“I've classes and then a test to study for tomorrow night. But, the next night can I take you out?” she asks him.

“Aye lass. Can I text you tomorrow?”

“Yes please.” She stands on her toes to reach his own forehead. “I will miss you way to much if you don't. Good night Jamie.”

“Good night Claire.”

She wakes up to a text from him.

'Good morning beautiful.’'

She smiles as she responds.

'Good morning my handsome scot.’

She is making the bed when her notification bell rings.

‘My. Like that.’

A flush covers her face. She had claimed him and isn't sure if it was intentional or not.

‘We do belong with each other.’ She text back, recalling what he said about honesty.

'Aye. And to?’

She swallows hard as she stares at her phone. He is right but, it had been just three days since she meet him.

'Claire, I'm sorry. Don't run.’

She feels the fear coming through his text. Her heart gives a lurch as she quickly replies.

‘You are right. And to each other. I am scared Jamie.’

A few seconds later.

'Don't be. There are two of us.’

'Coffee? Before class. I need to see you.’

‘And I you. Coffee aye.’

Her heart slows as soon as she sees him. He sees the relief reflected in his eyes too. He draws her into a hug, unmindful of the other people waiting.

“Better.” She says against his chest.

“Aye. Much better.”

She giggles. “How are we ever to do this Jamie. Not able to go a day.”

“Coffee and talk, eh?”

“Yes.” They order and he takes her to the table farthest away from the others.

“I've a crazy solution.” She looks at him with a head tilt. “Hear me out. Okay?” She nods. “We could get married.” Her mouth starts to open and he reaches across and covers it with his hand. “I know insane. But so is this. All of it. I am not saying jump into bed. Just join names and households. So we can live together.”

“We can do that without marriage.” She replies under his hand. He moves it. “It is 2019.”

“Aye. It is just not how I was raised. We are heading there. We both know it. So, keep doing this. Longing for each other. Or. Marry. Share a house and a bed, when we are ready.”

“Give me a day or so.”

“I guess I can do that.” She grins at him, reaches over to kiss his cheek. “Have class. I love you Jamie.”

“I love you Claire.”

“Marry!” her mind screams as she tries to focus on her classes. “It is crazy. Insane.” But, it has a strange appeal. A pull. To wake up in the same place, the same bed, well, it makes more sense then this crazy longing. Then finding herself unable to go a day without seeing him. Touching him. But, on the other hand, should she be running from the strange power of this? Shouldn’t it scare her? It does but in a thrilling way.

“Did I just propose, to a lass I've known for three days, at a coffee shop?” Jamie thinks in a kind of fascinated horror later. “Have I lost my mind?” Aye, his mind, his heart, his soul, his future, everything important to him, is hers. Totally and completely hers. They are heading towards marriage. Despite how crazy it is. They were made for each other. So, in that regard, it makes sense. He shakes himself and refocuses. He decides to do it right. Well, as right as he can now. He will get a ring and ask her proper.

His last class is over an hour before hers. He hurries to his apartment and takes out his lock box. He opens it and takes out the ring that is inside. A silver and gold mix that has a diamond crown cut in the middle. It had belonged to his grandmother. At her death, his mam had gifted it to him. “Fot the woman who will be my daughter-in-law.”

He bounces in his hand, the ring that his grandpa Simon had placed on his grandmother’s Vivian's hand when he asked for her hand 60 years ago. He wonders if they would approve of his choice. Yes, he thinks. Claire is a lot like her. Has the same intellect and ambition. He smiles. She had reared five children while taken night classes to get her business degree. She ran Lallybroch while grandpa served in the military. Yes, they would like her.

She meets him where they first meet mere four days ago. She is nervous so is he. “Claire, I am sorry. I should have never blurted it out like that. Right before we both had class.”

“No. It made concentrating hard.”

“Sorry babe. Besides the place and timing and place, what did you think?”

“There is a kind of logic to the illogical idea of it.”

He laughs aloud. “Christ Claire, your way with words. That is a perfect description.” She laughs with him. “Does that mean yes?” She looks deep into his eyes and sees all she has ever dreamed of. With a deep breath she nods.

“Yes, as crazy as it is, yes.” He drops down before her. He slips the ring out of his pocket. “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, I know it is crazy but there is no one else I want to hold hands with, the only one I want to wake up beside, the only one I want to see in our children’s faces, the only one I want to fight with, make up with, laugh with and cry with. Will you do me the honor of stepping into the future with me. Will you marry me?”

“Yes. Yes Jamie!” He slips the ring on her finger. It fits perfectly. “Did you go out and..”

“No. It was my grandma's. Does it suit because I can.”

“No. God Jamie. It is beautiful.”

“Like you.”

“You know we have yet to even kiss.” His fiancée reminds him.

“Hmm we should remedy that.” He stands up and pulls her to her feet. Placing his hands on her face, he meets her eyes before lowering his head.

Neither are sure what to expect but are not prepared for the power behind it. She clings to his shoulders to avoid falling. He holds tight to her back to prevent the same. She feels the power he is holding in check. He feels the trust she is given him and is exquisitely careful with it.

They both look awed as they come apart. She rest her head against his chest. His arms come tight around her.

“So, do you want a long engagement.” He asks against her head.

“No. I think a short one would be best.” He chuckles.

“I agree. You want a church wedding?”

“I think simpler is better. Maybe a church wedding later. Like on an anniversary.”

“Okay. Claire I don’t even know if you are a Catholic?”

“I am. Nominal but yes.”

“Good. That is good. Children, you want children?”

“Boy are we doing this backwards.” She says with a laugh. “Yes, I want children.”

“We are. Okay Claire, let's go..”

“To your place. And talk.”

“Aye. My place it is.” They join hands and the feel of the ring does strange things to Jamie, and he takes her to his flat.

His place is tiny but neat. He was verra glad he followed his mam's advise and always kept it straightened. “Yah ne' ken when you will want to bring a lass home.” She had advised,” so always assume you will.” Because he followed that rule, he knows he won’t be embarrassed by wet towels on the floor or dishes in the sink. This is not just any lass, but his fiancée. He is thankful for the good first impression.

She smiles as she walks in. An efficiency, with the living room/ bedroom together. The perfectly made bed is off to the side. The sofa has a tarden style blanket over the back. A bookshelf is filled with both law books and novels. The kitchen is clean with just a few dishes in the drainer.

“I am impressed. Mine isn't this neat.”

“My mam. She always told me to leave the house as if I would be bringing someone back to it.”

“A smart woman.”

“Aye, you would have liked her and she you.”

“Yes. I think so.”

“Come Claire, let's talk.” She takes a seat on his couch and fingers the soft fabric of the tarden.

“Your families colors?”

“Aye, the Fraser colors.” He takes it and spreads it out over their laps.

“Beautiful.” She runs her hands over it.

“Aye.” But he isn’t talking about the tarten. He meets her eyes and they both swallow. “Talk. We need to talk.”

“Yes. How many children do you want?”

“Two or three. Siblings teach you a lot, I've found.”

“Yes. I always wanted one. So, are you a ‘attend mass every time the doors are open' type or..”

“Or. I should go more. But..”

“Ah, that is me too.”

And so, they slowly get to know their future spouses for the first time. They discuss family, their own and what they expect for the one they are building together, values and mores, and then they get to the more intimate stuff.

“I was 16. He was 19. I was in Paris with Uncle Lamb. He was sweet, and very French. We were at his flat and I felt myself very grown-up. Well, until I missed my cycle.” His eyes get comically large, “I wasn’t. Just nerves. It was only a week but put me off the whole idea for awhile. Besides, I couldn’t figure out what the attraction was. It seemed a messy affair that only brought pleasure to the man.”

“You didn’t..”

“No. I hardly ever do. I know it is harder for a woman but..”

He is shaken his head. “The man must take his time and pay attention. Though, my first probably didn’t get much out of it either. I was seventeen, a bit older, eh. She was also. We were out in the barn, fumbling in the hay loft. I took her in three strokes.”

“Three.” She is giggling.

“I've gotten better.” It is without thought that there lips come together, that there hands fumble under the tarden that still covers them. Hers land on his thighs. His glaze her breasts. Their moans blend together. She finds herself under him as he kisses down her neck. Her hands twisted in that wonderful hair.

“Please,” she whispers, as his hands work under her sweater.

“Are you sure?”

“Very. I want you.” He eases it up as she pulls on his. He lifts hers off and then his own. She watches his eyes as he looks at her. Her breasts are one part of her body she is insecure about. To small, she has always thought. But, the awe she sees in his eyes makes her start to think differently.

“Claire, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.”

“You don't think them to small?”

“No,” he lowers the bra straps. “God no. You are esquist.” He reaches back to take it off before moving his hands to the front to cup her. She shivers at the contact. “With nipples like cherries. Shall we see if they are as sweet?” Her eyes drift closed as he lowers his head. Only to fly open with his first deep suck.

“Oh god!” It feels so good. So very good as his pulling mouth works her nipple deeper in. His fingers pull on the other one. He then switches sides. Her left is even more sensitive and she cries out as he starts to love on it. The thought that he is to be her husband and her breasts will have this type of attention all the time is what causes her to tear up. He feels them fall on his neck and looks up.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. I just realized that, as my husband, you can love on my breast, like that all the time.”

“Ah lass, and we have just begun.” He pulls her jeans off and kisses down her belly.

“Where? What?”

“I think you know.”

“Yes, it is just..”

“Aye?” he rests on her hip bone and looks up at her with raised eye brows. “Ah, there is an odor.” She is blushing.

“True. You smell of your desire for me and it is intoxicating. Please Claire, let me bring you pleasure. “ She nods and tries to relax as her eases her panties off. He kisses back up her legs, easing them open. He licks up her inner thigh, and she starts to shake with anticipation.

He kisses her mound before opening her with his hands. She closes her eyes as he starts to lap her, up and down. He hits her clit with every swipe and she is soon panting for more. He fully turns his attention to it.

“Ohhh!” She had never felt anything like his mouth holding her in place as his tongue pulled at her. His hand comes up and finds her left nipple and she is gone. Pulled almost out of her body by the surge of pleasure, her legs start to shake and quiver, her body bows up and over him. He keeps a hold of her breast and clit and waits for her to come down. When she does, he pulls her back over with a deep suck and a gentle squeeze. This time she screamed.

“That,” he breathlessly tells her. “Is what it is supposed to feel like.”

“Yes! Oh yes. Thank you.”

He grins from her belly where he had worked his way too. “Shall we continue? We don’t have to. Can wait if you want.”

“Sweet man, I want you. Let's go mess up your bed.”

“Oh aye,” He pulls off his clothes before taken her hand and leading her into his room. “Claire, are you on something?” he asked her.

“No I, well I've not been.”

“Right. No worries I've,” He reaches into his bedside drawer. “My da taught his sons to always have rubbers around. That you will never know and.. well, I listened.”

“Thank God you did.” He grins in agreement before pulling one out of the just opened box.

“Aye.” She climbs on the bed. He joins her and runs his hands down her body. “You are so very beautiful, my wife-to-be.”

“Soon Jamie. I wish to be married soon.”

“Aye, me too.” He is playing with her breast and she starts to gasp and keen. “Claire, may I?” In answer, she takes the rubber from him and slips in on. Her hands on him are almost his undoing. He groans and then gasp as she guides him between her legs. “Oh God. “ The feel of her, surrounding him, he knows he was exactly where he was born to be.

“Yes, Jesus Jamie, yes!” her hands hold tight to him as he starts to move. He watches her, gaging her reaction so he can find the rhythm that suits them both. The slow slide, in and out, that has her clawing at his back, seems to be it.

“Close. Oh God. Jamie I think..” he smiles and lowers his head, drawing that wonderfully sensitive left nipple in. It is all she needs and, with his next slide in, she gasps, and cries out as she clamps around him. “Oh!”

“That's it, my love. “ he sooths as she comes down. He had stopped as she came around him, not wanting to cum himself, just yet.

“Oh wow!” He kisses her deeply before picking it back up. He moves a bit faster and her legs come up to hold him in place. “Jamie!”

He is determined to bring her there again and lifts her wonderful bum up, drawing her closer. Her pants and gasps get more frantic and he feels it build back up in both of them. “Come baby. Cum with me.” She starts to move with him and a minute later whimpers and groans as the pleasure runs back through her. He follows within seconds, crying out her name.

“Well okay then,” She says after a few more hundred heartbeats that slowly return to normal. “That is what it is supposed to feel like.”

“Aye.” He lays breathless and sweating beside her. “Aye but that is making love. Was new to me. The intensity.”

“Good. Good to know I am not alone.”

“Never again.” He rolls over and faces her,” that is my vow to you. You will ne' face another day or night alone.”

“God Jamie. I so love you.”

“You are my world. When do you wish to make the wedding then?”

“Do you wish your family here?”

“We can have ceremony for them later. Just you and I is fine for now. Unless you wish your family here?”

“No, just us sounds perfect. Can we just go to the register tomorrow?”

“Aye, my love. We can if that be your wish.”

“Yes please.”

“Then that is what we will do.”

That is what they do. After stopping to purchase simple gold bands, they walk into the registers office, hand in hand.

“We would like to be married, please.” He tells the lady at the counter.

“Excellent. Need you to fill out this license. You have ID?” They hand it to her. “Very good.”

“So, we can get married now?”

“Yes you may. In three day.”

“Three days?” Claire complains.

“Yes. We have a three day period from when the license is filed and when it is picked up. Gives us time to see if you are married elsewhere and you time to cool off, not to marry in haste.”

“It is only three days. I am going nowhere.” Jamie tells her.”

“Right.” She smiles at him. “We can be married here though?”

“Yes. The day you pick up your license.”

“Thank you. We will be back.”

“I bet she thinks I am pregnant.” Claire teases as they leave, still hand in head.”

“Undoubtedly. Well it matters not what she thinks. We know why we wish to be married so fast.” She smiles at him. “Because I canna live another day without you.”

“Nor I, you. Well, it is only three days and with classes and all.”

“Time will go fast. Aye.”

“And it doesn’t mean we can’t be together. Neither of us have class until tomorrow.” His eyes shoot up.

“Well then, future Mrs. Fraser, your place or mine?”

“Oh, we have to figure that out. Later.”

They stand before the judge three days later. Holding tight to each others hands and looking deep in each others eyes, they repeat the words that bind them together. They slip the rings on and kiss. They take a selfie with the marriage license and their ringed fingers. They send it to their families and then hide in her apartment for a week, waiting for the explosion to die down. Their families eventually come to understand and except the marriage.

A year later, August Julia-Ellen Fraser is born. The grandparents and aunts and uncles come to meet the chestnut haired blue eyed lass. When they see how in love her parents are and how the are making it work, still keeping up with their classes still on the right track, the last of their doubts fade away.

They return to Scotland after finishing school. They build their practices as their children grow. Every Autumn, they take a week, just them, and go camping. Exploring the monros, making love under the stars, keep warm by her husbands heat, reminds Claire why it is her favorite season.

#my writing #one shot #moodboard #challenge #autumn #okay this is the longest one shot I have ever done.#pray you guys like it #gets explict

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daquanfromthetrap · 5 years

Text

Sebastian x Reader(Ch. 2)

You walked in silence alongside Sebastian as the two of you made your way to the gardens. He spoke of the design of the mansion, the architecture, and the decor; but you paid his words no mind. You were hell-bent on figuring out what it is about this butler that intrigued you. Just as the two of you had made it outside, you were surprised by a rather loud disturbance further into the gardens.

*BOOM!* You and Sebastian stumbled a bit as the ground shook. You looked over at him in confusion as he held out his hands to steady you.

Sebastian squeezed the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh of irritation before excusing himself. “Do excuse me, my lady. It seems that there is a... problem, I must see to at this instance. I will rejoin you once all is well, Madame.”

You paused a bit, watching after him as he hurriedly made his way in the direction of the commotion. Well, I have nothing else to do at this dreadful party. You laughed to yourself as you began in the same direction that Sebastian had so hastily walked off in.

Walking deeper into the gardens, you could hear a nasally, high-pitched voice. “Oh we are sorry, Sebastian, sir. Yes we are!”

You heard another voice. “We was only trying to trim the trees, Sebastian. You know, staying out of sight like you said we should.”

“I was just tryna trim them a bit faster.” A third voice mutters.

You continued walking until you came upon a rather puzzling site; Sebastian with three other servants, surrounding a fallen tree that was partially burnt. The servants were covered in what seemed like soot, one of them holding a flamethrower.

“Are you lot alright?” you asked, stifling a laugh at the scene that laid before you.

“My lady! Please forgive us for the disturbance. We, of Phantomhive manor, strive for perfection in order to maintain the estate in pristine and orderly condition. Such are the orders of our master. Our deepest apologies for the disarray. ” Sebastian bows, clearing his throat and throwing a dangerous look towards the other three servants.

The three of them follow suit in Sebastian’s apology as they clumsily take their own bows. “Ah yes, milady we are sorry!!!”

They have a tremendous amount of respect for him... mixed with a bit of fear. You took note, watching the interaction between the butler and these other servants.

“My lady, if you would just follow me this way please. It is far too dangerous for a young woman such as yourself to be near such a ghastly site. I would be happy to escort you to another area of the grounds that would be more suitable for you.”

I have a feeling he’s not talking about the tree.You giggled. “It’s quite alright, Sebastian. Really it is. The tree has already fallen.” You glanced over at the burnt tree then back at the group of servants before you. “And who might you three be?”

“Pleased to meet you, milady. The name’s Baldroy. I’m the cook of the Phantomhive household.”

“Hardly.” Sebastian mutters under his breath, loud enough for the rest of us to hear.

Before Baldroy could say anything else, you quickly replied, “Ah, so it was you who made the exquisite spread we had for the ball tonight. I commend you on your cooking skills, chef.”

“She said, ‘chef’!” Baldroy gushed as he practically melted into a puddle of tears from his own excitement.

You turned to the servant next to him; the maid. “And what is your name?”

“My name’s Mey-Rin, milady. Yes it is.” she answered clumsily.

“Mey-Rin. What a pretty name.” You smiled at her, causing a deep blush to appear on her cheeks. “That’s a foreign name, yes? Chinese?” You asked, to which she nodded in reply. You reached out to touch her hair. “Such beautiful hair you have. You must tell me your secret.” You whispered your last words, giving her a playful wink before moving on to the last servant.

“I-I’m Finnian, milady. But everybody just calls me Finny. I make sure the grounds of the estate are in tip-top shape for the master”, the young boy said shyly.

“So you’re the one responsible for the beauty that surrounds us right now, is it? I’m excited to see what else you’ve done with the grounds. I’m sure it gets better than this.” You look around you before looking back at the young boy, taking your handkerchief and wiping the soot off his cheek. He gasps, staring back at you in awe, finding it hard to reply to you coherently.

Sebastian just stands back, watching you intently. Interesting, he thought to himself as he noticed the effect you have on others; or rather the effect you have on humans. Although, it could very well just be these simpletons, he thought again, staring at the three servants with disdain. Weak. You show a human a fragment of kindness, and they’ll be eating out of your hand. Pathetic.

You felt Sebastian’s eyes bore into the side of your skull, watching your exchange with these servants. Trying to get a read on me, eh? You then spoke up, “My goodness, it seems I’ve lost track of the time. I should be heading back to the ball or my father will go mad searching for me.” You nodded to the servants, “Pleased to meet the three of you. I wish you luck on your tree trimming.”

“Thank you, milady”, they answered simultaneously.

You then turned to Sebastian, “If it’s not too much trouble, Sebastian, may you accompany me on the way back to the manor. I’m afraid I might get lost if I go by myself.”

“Why, it would be my pleasure, madame.”

After parting with the others, the two of you quietly began your walk back to the manor until Sebastian finally broke the silence. “It seems that the Phantomhive servants are quite enamored of you, milady.”

“Oh? And does that include you as well, Sebastian?” You questioned, raising a brow at him.

“Well I must admit, Madame, you are rather intriguing.” He answered you, saying the last word in a sultry tone.

He’s trying to test me; but little does he know, I like to play this game too. You smiled to yourself, steadily watching the ground you walked on. “And I can say the same for you as well as your master.” You replied calmly, blatantly ignoring the tone in his previous words. “No doubt, my father and your master will need to discuss some things once we get to the manor.”

Hmph. This might be a bit harder than I thought. I’d usually have her practically begging me to eat out of my palms by now. Ah well, I do love a challenge. Sebastian thought to himself. “Ah yes. The Queen’s Spider and Watchdog have much that need to be discussed.” He paused a bit before continuing, “and where might that leave you, milady?” He asked slyly with a small grin.

“Whatever do you mean, Sebastian?” You let his name playfully roll off your tongue before gently placing your gloved hand on his forearm.

Another strange sensation emitted from the contact between you and Sebastian. This time, you both jumped away from each other, not knowing what to do. You just silently stared at each other in bewilderment, each of you not knowing how to react or what to say.

What the hell is this? I’ve never experience such a strange interaction. You were trying to organize all the thoughts going through your head while trying to regain your composure.

Sebastian stood opposite of you, looking just as puzzled. Who... or what, is she? What kind of creature is capable of causing such a reaction from myself?

The two of you stood there in silence for a bit longer before you cleared your throat, attempting to take control of the situation. “Come now, Sebastian, I suspect my father and your master will be wondering where we are right about now.”

He stared back at you in a daze; he then straightened himself and obliged to your request as he began walking ahead of you. You continued the rest of the walk in complete silence. Although neither of you dared to say a word to each other, the air was thick with tension. It may have made anyone else feel incredibly uncomfortable but the two of you were consumed by your own thoughts. Both of you only looked up occasionally; eyeing the other suspiciously.

She doesn’t smell like a human. She’s not a divine being either. She also doesn’t appear to be a threat to myself or the young master but her presence does seem to strike up a rather interesting reaction within myself. In fact, she too was taken back by surprise when we made contact. Sebastian pondered, trying to make an assessment of what it was about you that could cause such a spontaneous response from him.

You were doing some thinking of your own, until the two of you were finally near the manor. It was evident that the party was coming to an end as you saw many guests calling upon their carriages to depart. You and Sebastian were able to locate your father and Lord Phantomhive fairly quickly. Upon your arrival, you were warmly greeted by your father. “Ah, there you are, Darling! I was beginning to wonder where it was you managed to slip off to.”

“I was only admiring the grounds of your lovely estate, Lord Phantomhive. Sebastian was kind enough to accompany me.” You stated, slightly turning away from Sebastian but still keeping your eye on him.

“The Phantomhive household is honored to have you grace our grounds, milady.” Lord Phantomhive smiled. “Now that you are both here, I believe there are some forms of business that we all must discuss.”

The four of us made our way to Lord Phantomhive’s study for a more private conversation. Before we even sat down, Sebastian was already wheeling an assortment of fresh pastries and freshly brewed tea. He poured the tea for his master, your father and you, occasionally stealing glances at you. You eyed him warily before tuning into the conversation between your father and Lord Phantomhive.

“It seems that we have received instructions from The Queen.” Lord Phantomhive states to your father. “I admit this is a bit unusual for her to ask us to work so closely together like this, seeing that the Spider usually begins his work after I have finished mine.”

“Yes, my lord. But according to our research, there has been a case not unlike this one in the past.” He then turned to you, “Darling, if you would be so kind as to inform the young lord of this past matter.”

You nodded to you father, handing Sebastian the files you have compiled about the case, being careful not to touch his hands. As he placed the documents on his master’s desk, you began, “It is a rare occurrence when the Queen’s Watchdog and The Spider are ordered to work together. Their work goes hand in hand to fulfill their duties to The Queen, yet, they seldom cross paths during a job. Notably, these are the cases that require the most attention, seeing that they have an alarmingly increasing mortality rate. It seems that Her Majesty has become rather upset by the amount of mysterious deaths and disappearances happening in London recently. The victims have all been families of three. The mother and father are found dead; their eyes completely burned out and with no trace of the child.”

“No trace of the child?”, Lord Phantomhive inquired, looking through the file.

“Yes my lord. The parents are found dead and the children go missing. They have yet to be found; dead or alive.” You paused for a bit to sip your tea before continuing, “Apparently, this is not the first time this has happened. There was a case many years ago in which families of three were found in the same manner. The parents with their eyes burnt out of their sockets and the child gone missing. According to previous accounts of the murders, it was thought that the murderer watched the families for weeks, stalking his prey before the final blow. This all came to an abrupt end before the killer was even caught. Six couples were found dead. Their children were never recovered.”

“I see.” The young lord replied, slowly sipping on his tea.

“Her Majesty has entrusted us with the task of dealing with this problem, discreetly. She instructs that we find the culprit and retrieve the children, preferably unharmed.” Your father adds.

As your father and Lord Phantomhive continue to converse about how to deal with this particular problem, you take a moment to glance at Sebastian as he stood by his master behind his desk. His eyes were trained on the papers his master was given as he intently listens in to the conversation. Your brow furrows while you sit there, studying the butler that stood beside his master. Since he was so enwrapped in the case that lay before him and his master, you took this as an opportunity to take a different approach to finding out just who Sebastian was. If I can just see him through a different set of eyes, maybe I’ll know. Although you were usually able to sense things without any extra help, you knew that seeing things through the eyes of your mother would allow you to see far more than with your human eyes. You closed your eyes for a moment before clandestinely reopening them, hiding the now glowing, purple-red tint of your eyes. Then everything became apparent to you. You observed the dark shadow encasing Lord Phantomhive that was being emitted from Sebastian; tight dark threads connecting them to each other.

A demon! Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you now can clearly see why Sebastian’s presence was so intriguing to you. And his master. You looked over at the young boy by his side. You quickly reverted your eyes back to their usual (Y/E/C) shade and took another glance at Lord Phantomhive with knowing eyes before tuning back into the conversation.

“...I believe I have a plan my Lord Phantomhive, if you don’t mind”, at these words that your father spoke, you all turned your undivided attention towards him. He cleared his throat, “All the victims were families of three, yes? The parents and one child?”

“Yes father”, you answered, waiting for your father to finish presenting his idea.

“It’s simple really. We must coax our culprit into coming out by using bait. From where I’m sitting, I see a couple and a child.”

“WHAT?!”, the rest of you yelped in surprise, all looking at one another.

Your father sipped his tea calmly before resuming, “We can only get so far with questioning and snooping. I’m sure you’re quite familiar with using yourself as bait in this line of work, my lord. Besides, time is of the essence, we’ll be sure to catch our suspect much faster by luring him out. I assure you, my daughter is quite capable; as is your butler. You will be very well protected should there be any problems, my lord.” Your father finishes, setting his tea cup back on the table.

The three of you take a moment to consider the proposal. “I’d have to agree with this idea. It is pretty efficient, my lord.” Sebastian states, rubbing his chin.

Lord Phantomhive lets out a sigh, “Ah, very well. We will begin preparations as soon as possible. I hope you are up for this mission, my lady.” He says, looking at you.

You nodded, “If you’ll have me, my lord.”

Your father spoke up again, “Alright so that settles it then. We will find out all we can about the killings and use you three as bait so that we may catch the murderer. Sebastian and (Y/N) will act as a loving young couple looking for a new home with their child which will be played by you, my lord.”

After a few more minutes of discussion, your father decided it was time to take leave. You were seen out by the young lord and his servants. Upon arriving outside, you let out a sigh, considering the amount of work ahead of you all. Lord Phantomhive and Sebastian followed you and your father to your carriage. After waving your goodbyes to the rest of the Phantomhive household, you then turned to the earl and his butler. The young lord gave your father a firm handshake before turning to bid you farewell.

Sebastian first assisted your father and Adira into the carriage. You eyed him knowingly as he held out his hand, watching you through his lashes. You took his hand, trying hard to ignore what each of you were feeling and gave his hand a quick squeeze before taking a seat next to Adira. Sebastian’s eyes widened in shock at the sudden pressure, but this was quickly covered up with a sly smile. Interesting reaction. You noted to yourself.

“We look forward to working with you my Lord.” Your father tipped his hat to the young earl, bidding his last farewells.

Ciel and Sebastian watched as your carriage drove away. “I look forward to working with you too, Lord Herbert.” Ciel says to himself. He then turns his attention to Sebastian, “What is it with you and that girl anyway? I notice your initial reaction to her.” The young master begins to make his way back into the manor. “And what did he mean by saying she was very ‘capable’?”

“I’m keen on finding out.” Sebastian says more to himself than his master, still watching the carriage shrinking off into the distance.

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Author’s note:

Hope you guys liked it!! Don’t worry, there’s definitely more to come! If you guys have any requests or questions, feel free to message me!! In the future we will delve deeper into the reader’s origins so don’t fret!! Let me know what you guys think!! :) <3

#sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis imagine #imagine #imagines #reader #reader imagine #black butler #black butler imagines #black butler x reader #ciel phantomhive #phantomhive #mey-rin #finnian #baldroy #kuroshitsuji #anime #anime imagine #sebastian

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anousiemay · 4 years

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The Angel & The Devil Ch. 1 A Lie Burns Many Bridges

Guardian and The Red Hood are hot on the trail of Black Mask. Trying to find just what he has invested in this time. In an attempt to find answers, The Red Hood does something he instantly regrets, putting his relationship with Guardian on the rocks. Can he salvage their relationship or will he lose another person in his life? Another gorgeous commission by @symeona and another fic by yours truly! While the moment I pictured this image doesn’t appear till chapter 4 I thought it’d be a good placeholder hehe. Another Jason x Anita fic cos I’m in love with them being in love. This fic is also on ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anousie/ ----- "Are we going to be meeting this 'Angel' you keep mumbling about?" In the little time Jason had spent with his new teammates, he'd learnt that Artemis is not one to beat around the bush. In fact, she'd most likely beat the metaphorical bush to bits if need be.

The long flight back to Qurac had eased Jason's mind but left his body weary. It was the first time in years that Jay had ever felt so tired. Especially after facing his past and stopping a crazed Amazonian from killing hundreds with the Bow of Ra. It could be said this was all in a day's work for someone of his profession. But as the plane’s wheels touched Gotham Airport tarmac, his heart began to ache. For now, he was back in Gotham with his relationship with Anita most definitely on the rocks. "Yes, Princess. You both will, but I'd prefer if I was alone with her first." "Red Him am embarrassed by Red Her and Bizarro?" Oh Bizarro, precious, brutally strong Bizarro. Jason was much more embarrassed in himself. "No of course not, big guy. But Guardian and I probably aren't on the best terms right now." "You are lucky we are in a public place or I would have thrown you fifty yards. Do not call me princess." Artemis spat as she rose from her seat on the plane. Ah yes, he forgot about that. That's what he'd say if he was lying. "Sorry," He really wasn't. "Well, I guess I'll take you guys to one of my safehouses. C'mon, I need a shower." "Oh good, I swear your jacket was becoming a part of your flesh." "Red Him am made of jacket?" "No, Bizarro. I am not."

- - - - The safehouse was surprisingly spacious enough for all three of the Outlaws to occupy. Artemis had placed her axe in the kitchen when they arrived. To which Jason had promptly asked her to leave it in her room. Bizarro on the other hand, was fascinated by the PS4 currently humming and the controller Jason had placed in his hand. "Give it a shot, B. Skyrim's a pretty good game." Then, once sure the two were settled and not putting their weapons in kitchens; Jason grabbed some spare clothes and jumped into the shower. How good it felt to be under hot water. Jason took this moment of solitude to reflect on the past few weeks. Two weeks ago, Anita, known as Guardian to the public, and himself had been hot on the trail of Black Mask's latest investment. The Angel and Devil (aptly named by goons due to her wings and his red helmet) were scaring thugs and opening crates of 'funky techno shit' as Anita had called it nightly. But neither were getting anywhere. Dead end after unconscious thug with no real lead on just what Black Mask was planning. That's when Jason had turned to Bruce, asking him to trust his wayward son with taking down Black Mask himself. "You want me to pretend I know nothing? She won't buy it for a second, Jason." Bruce had been rather shocked by Jason’s latest proposition. "I know, I don't need her to buy it. But if she knows what I’m doing she'll hold back. It's the only way." "Wasn't it a while back you and the others were adamant, we'd be honest with one another?" Bruce uttered as he opened a few files on the Bat Computer. Jason laughed then, Bruce did too. Neither were that good at being honest. "She won't be happy, Jason. She's not like us. It was hard for her to get her around being a meta and now you're doing this?" Jason sighed, how could he forget? Anita had been a mess, he had let her down and couldn't save her in time from the bastard who implanted the meta-gene. But now she was Guardian, a symbol of hope for Gothamites and himself. She was a good person; mask on or off. But Jason well, Jason wasn't always a good person, even if she disagreed. He left soon after, his response dangling in the air. "I have to, Bruce. It's the only way."

- - - It was April 12th and the moon was hung high in the air. No clouds in Gotham meant there'd be a lot of evil out tonight. Guardian peered through her night vision binoculars for the third time in 3 minutes, she was insanely bored. Red Hood had briefed her that The Bowery had seen a lot more foot traffic than usual in the construction site across from the apartment building roof she sat on. They were to watch the place for any unusual activity. At least she had some food to keep her occupied. "So, what do you think of Gina's Kebabs?" She asked through her microphone, trying not to stain her white outfit as she took another bite.

A small crackle from her earpiece, then Red Hood’s deep voice cut through the midnight wind: "I think it's more grease than lamb, Angel. I'd give it a 3 sober. What about you?"

Guardian giggled, "Well my chicken one is actually pretty warm still, so I give it a 5 for its longevity."

"You're definitely the nicer mark out of us two." Red Hood responded, an airy chuckle leaving his throat. "Oh, Red. I'm the nicer everything out of us." "Excuse you? I have a hotter bod than yours." Guardian faked a gasp, but he had played himself into a trap: "That’s not what’cha said last night." "I wasn't sober!" "Exactly, you were drunk on this fine glass of wine." Guardian stood up and shook her hips, knowing the vigilante on the building across from her was watching. "Just shut up and watch the roads."

"Aww, you're precious, babe." Guardian teased but resumed watching the roads below. 30 minutes passed before finally, something happened: a large truck reversed into the opened shutter of a warehouse next to the construction site. 5 minutes later, two men came out on motorbikes and sped off towards Founders Island. Bingo. "Shall we give chase?" Guardian was already extending her wings before Red Hood surprised her. "No, let's see what they've left. Bats can handle them." She spotted his silhouetted figure grapple down from his building. "Are you sure the grease in that kebab didn't poison you? This is our chance to get some info!" Guardian questioned as she flew down to the warehouse, meeting her partner who was already trying to lift the metal door. "Or break some bones for absolutely nothing." He huffed out, Guardian sighed and grabbed the metal door, throwing it up with one hand. "Since when were you against breaking bones?" "Anita." His voice was stern, Red wasn't kidding around. "Jason?" She shot back; this wasn't like him. The tall man sighed and took off his helmet, he only ever did that when he wanted to get a point across. Or make out, but she doubted that was the reason this time. "I just think it'd be better for us to keep our eyes on whatever they've bought here. We can catch up with them another time, but what if what's on this truck is the answer to what Black Mask is up to?" "But why would he leave it here unguarded if it was, Jay? It makes no sense, it'd have to be some dud shipment, right?"

Damnit, she was too smart for her own good. But Jason had one more card up his sleeve.

"Just humour me?"

The two stared at each other for a few beats before Anita finally sighed and walked into the warehouse. "Fine, but you owe me a Banana Split from Freddie's when you see that I'm right." "Yes ma'am." Jason affirmed before clicking his helmet back on. The two waltzed over to the back of the truck and Anita ripped the metal back off, placing it next to them. "Your super strength is getting easier to handle?" Jason questioned, pressing their bodies close as they peered into the trucks back. "Yeah and the wings aren't playing up as much either." Anita admitted, in fact her powers had been functioning well these past few nights. Jason smiled from under his helmet, running a gloved hand along her feathers. "You do look beautiful with them, you know?" Anita blushed at the compliment, still feeling rather insecure about them. "You trying to butter me up, so you don't have to get me a Banana Split?" "No! Maybe… Is it working?" "Tell me I have a better bod than you and I'll reconsider." Anita teased as the two began grabbing crates and opening them on the warehouse floor. "I'd have to perform a full examination to know." He poked back swiftly. "Ugh, men."

After going through all the crates, Anita let out an exasperated sigh. "See? I told you it was a dud shipment. But why would he have one? What do you think Red?" Anita waited a few moments; hearing Jason unlatch one of his guns from its thigh holster. "Red?"

A small click then a loud bang. Guardian fell to the ground in pain, looking at her leg she saw a bullet lodged into her kneecap and blood staining her suit. But Guardian doesn't bleed, she hasn't since she got these wings. Just what the hell was in these bullets? Her head started feeling light but willed herself to look up at the shooter: Red Hood held his pistol at her now sweating forehead. Pulling the chamber back and wrapping his finger tight on the trigger. The only thought that passed through Anita's head was: ‘What the fuck?!’

#Jason Todd #jason todd x oc #red hood #red hood and the outlaws #oc #fic #fanfic #ao3 #dc

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thecomicsnexus · 4 years

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THE WILD STORM #13-18 JULY - DECEMBER 2018 BY WARREN ELLIS, JON DAVIS-HUNT AND STEVE BUCCELLATO

SYNOPSIS (FROM DC DATABASE AND COMIC VINE)

It is raining in New York when Jacklyn King arrives in the alley, summoned by Director Miles Craven and Deputy Director Ivana Baiul. She is surprised to find a crimescene - and horrified to find the victim is Mitch Saunders, her subordinate. Baiul rattles off the timeline - forensics puts the time of death almost immediately after when they know he let IO headquarters yesterday. Baiul is condescending to Jacklyn, but offers to contact Henry Bendix, head of Skywatch, whose computers they just hacked, and who had both motive and means to order such an assassination.

Craven demurs on a diplomatic solution, ordering the mobilization of three CATs (covert action teams) and the beginning of a plan to kill everyone Skywatch Ground Division in New York. War between the agencies may have already begun.

On the Skywatch satellite headquarters, Henry Bendix and his XO Lauren Pennington are wondering if Craven will back off after what they did. Bendix admits that if it doesn't, they could target the families of agents - and also start disabling research facilities. Pennington interjects that wasn't productive when they did it last time, so Bendix gives her an order: he wants two sets of plans, one where they stealthily disable a research site, and one where they leave a public pile of corpses.

In Levin's Diner, in the desert, John Lynch is being watched. Looking up from his greasy breakfast, he locks eyes with a distracted man at the counter, who states that "they all know" what he did, and that he doesn't know what grew from his actions. Musing, Lynch leaves the diner immediately.

That night, he arrives at a farmstead in the middle of nowhere. Musing that the man he seeks used to like being around people, he almost doesn't notice the field of stakes behind the barn, each one topped by a crude arrow, all pointing at the same area of the night sky. Entering the residence via the back door, he sees his target is watching an adventure show on the television, but is also aware of his entrance. Lynch introduces himself, and identifies the man as Colonel Marc Slayton.

In shadows, Slayton tells him there is beer in the fridge. Lynch takes two cans, and throws one to Slayton. He wonders what drew Slayton here. Grinning, Marc explains he looked up his surname. It comes from the Norse word sletta, meaning "level field", and the Old English word tun, meaning a farm. So, he went to be a farmer on a level field, hunting and planting.

Lynch cuts to the point - IO is looking into Project Thunderbook. He tried to destroy all the files, but he left an index that he could watch, so that he could tell if someone ever came looking - and he might not have gotten all the files. So, he has come to warn Marc Slayton.

Slayton accuses him of not knowing what was done to the Thunderbook subjects. Lynch rattles off a potted history of the project - how IO found corpses in ancient burial sites which contained active genetic material they identified as alien. How their gen/active samples were found to plug easily into human DNA. How he went to his best and brightest, and offered them a place in a project to use the gen/active samples to become human enhanciles. And how, despite the unknown factors, despite the dangers, Marc Slayton had been the first to volunteer, stating his desire to push the possible forward and improve the world.

Slayton lashes back verbally, saying his position has changed. As his wrist starts to glow, he explains that the sample he was bonded to turned out to be a genetic engine that grew an organic computer inside of him. It grew other things, too, he says, as a glowing barbed tendril emerges from his wrist. And he has been feeding it. Feeding it enough that he has started to hear it talk to him, hear it pull him towards... something, possibly the other Thunderbook subjects, possibly beings far stranger. It wants to eat people. It can tell there is something unusual about Lynch. And it occurs to him that whatever IO knows, the only person who definitely knows his location... is Lynch.

Slayton strikes out with his barbed tendril, but Lynch dodges right. Firing wildly, Lynch punctures Slayton's beercan, which distracts Slayton, Slayton lashes out again, but Lynch tricks him into burying his tendril in the fridge, then knocks over the fridge and shoots rapidly into it as he runs. The resulting explosion wrecks the kitchen, giving Lynch the space to escape to his car, at which point, he considers Slayton warned, and drives away at high speed.

In the doorway of a closed-down music shop, the homeless man known as "the mayor" is trying to sleep when he is shaken awake by two women, who introduce themselves as Shen Li-Men and Jenny Mei Sparks. Opening a portal, Li-Men tries to recruit him by letting him sleep on Jenny's couch.

At his farm, Marc Slayton is bandaging small cuts in his face. He has decided that he does not like John Lynch, who always escapes the fallout of whatever the situation is, only to return and judge others. Slayton turns to self-pity, remarking he has "hunted" so many humans and "planted" them so that their souls could be launched to the world his alien implant came from. In the mirror, an alien creature with six glowing eyes seeks to calm him, saying he has done so much for it, and that to save himself, he should of course flee John Lynch or IO or whatever authorities they can summon and hit the open road. Crying tears of gratitude, Slayton identifies this being as "the Carer".

In her home, the popstar known as Voodoo sleeps drugged and deeply. A being emerges from the shadows, and placing one massive hand on her head, it orders her to "dream of the world as it truly is".

On the Skywatch satellite, a mission to Mars is undocking. With its drive running and its stealth systems operating, it will be at Mars in a week. On the control deck, Bendix and Pennington are making small talk, when Pennington says that Bendix and Craven have exactly one thing in common. They are afraid of a public scrap. A public scrap would reveal the power games both agencies have been playing. So, while she has compiled a list of people it would be useful to assassinate, and a list of facilities that could be destroyed or disabled, she has also written up a plan to break IO's control on Earth, radically destabilizing life and making it impossible for another polity to take their place.

It is night in New York, and John Colt is recording a video on his smartphone. Though he does not know his birthday by the reckoning of his home, he picked tomorrow as his birthday, long ago, and he makes a point of alerting Jacob Marlowe of its arrival every year, so that he starts the day angry. And he does this because when arrived here, on their spaceship from the homeworld, Khera, Jacob made them assume human shapes, to an unknown end. And then, for a reason he never explained to John, Jacob trashed the expedition by blowing up the spaceship, stranding the survivors here.

As he holds the camera, John marks his birthday as he always does - by temporarily shedding his human disguise to appear in his true form. Holding the phone in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, John holds the camera to expertly frame his monstrous six-eyed face, and raises a toast to his own continued good health.

In New York, Lucy Blaze - Skywatch Ground Division, codename "Zealot" - is arriving five minutes late to work. However, before her co-workers can reassure her that this is fine, their office is attacked by a pair of I.O. covert action teams (C.A.T.s), who spray bullets across the office. Thinking fast, Lucy directs the last other survivor to the elevator banks to escape, then throws a desk at the attackers using superhuman strength. Using this as an opening, she proceeds to kill all six attackers using a silenced pistol. In the ensuing silence, she radios security for advice.

In a garage in the desert, John Lynch pulls in and addresses the lone employee by name: Alexandra Fairchild. Alexandra is suspicious, so John comes clean - someone in I.O. has started looking into Project Thunderbook, and he is warning all the project subjects so they can properly prepare. Accepting this, Alexandra brews him a pot of coffee and explains that she originally moved here because it is down the road from a town full of nice people who keep to themselves.

John asks if there is anyone around to eavesdrop, which gets Alexandra talking - about how she's been merrily surviving since she got out of the service, armed with nothing but some fake IDs, the "severance pay" that John gave everyone, and her skills as a mechanic who fixes things. How she tried to live with humans - mostly men, some women - and tried to fix them, before giving up in resignation. The tipping point was when she told her then-boyfriend that she was pregnant with their child, and he tried to kick the fetus to death, so she broke his neck with her bare hands.

The alien genetic implant that she got as part of Project Thunderbook wants her to fight. When she fights, it feeds on her anger, making her stronger and tougher every time. And realising the damage she could do to that child, she gave the baby up for adoption and vanished.

At this point, a plume of dust is visible on the road, and Alexandra mentions the other detail - the town down the road contains a family of ne'er-do-wells who like to mess with people. Recently, they stepped over the line, and Alexandra had asked them to stop. When they responded by targeting her, she killed the family matriarch. They are coming for her now. Today she will either die by violence, or vanish in the chaos - and she's not sure she can die. As Alexandra prepares to heft a pickup truck as a melee weapon, John Lynch asks what her daughter's name is.

Alexandra says her daughter should be in the system under the name "Caitlin Fairchild". She thanks him for warning her, and says that John ought to leave before the fighting starts.

As John Lynch drives away, he sees the garage explode behind him, and regrets that his life has led him here.

In New York, Miles Craven is having a video-call with Henry Bendix. Bendix is furious that I.O. would send C.A.T.s against his territory, and vows that Craven will atone. Craven responds that he took no pleasure from the attack, which was a punitive measure in response to the attack on I.O.'s Hightower facility and the subsequent hack on I.O.'s server - actions for which Craven will hold Skywatch responsible. Then Craven hangs up on him.

In Jenny Mei Sparks' London flat, Jenny and Shen Li-Men are explaining the world to the vagrant known as "the mayor", using Jenny's full-wall mind-map. The mayor is visibly agitated, and accuses them of talking about him as though he were not present. Li-Men thinks she has a solution to his predicament, and hands him a pill, saying it is medicine. The mayor responds with paranoia, but Jenny zaps him with electricity from her fingers - he is eating the damn pill.

Once he has swallowed the pill, Li-Men asks him his name. In amazement, the mayor says his name is Jack Hawksmoor.

On a country road with nearby foliage, Marc Slayton is experiencing car trouble. He flags down a passing motorist, who seems helpful, but Slayton undercuts him by asking which secret agency he works for. The man in the car demonstrates glowing eyes and says he works for Skywatch, prompting Slayton to tear the car apart with his whip appendage. Taking his attacker's spines, she starts singing.

In Skywatch Headquarters, Henry Bendix is fuming at the outcome of his last conversation with with Miles Craven. Skywatch has been blamed for an attack on an I.O. installation. Faced with the news from Pennington that their organization is not responsible, Bendix orders the deployment of the Little Stick - an experimental weapon developed in the Eighties, a foot-long diamond rod, which, when dropped from orbit, achieves sufficient velocity to strike the target with the force of a tactical nuclear device.

In London, Li-Men Shen is having a vision - a man, pinioned, his mouth in a gaping, silent scream, while science is perpetrated on his body: skin removed and reattached, treads on his feet, wires in his brain, bugs in his guts. Snapping out of this vision, she names the perpetrators as Skywatch, the secret space agency. The victim, the homeless man known as "the mayor", introduces himself as Jack Hawksmoor. He is still recovering from the drug Shen gave him, but he has a theory - Skywatch kidnapped and experimented on him, to make him into something that could survive and labor in a toxic city. And that he doesn't think he was the only one.

In orbit, a diamond rod - the Little Stick - breaks atmosphere, landing on the Hightower facility with a colossal boom.

In a gas station bathroom, Marc Slayton is having doubts. He regards his work for the being he calls the Carer as holy, but still he feels ill at the necessary killing. The being appears in a nearby mirror, and announce itself as "the Khera", and explains that it is what is necessary. Crying in gratitude and repentance, Slayton exits the bathroom, returning to the scene of three gruesome murders, and pausing only to craft an arrow to launch their souls as the Carer told him, he moves on.

In a small bar, John Lynch enters. Talking briefly to the barman, he sits down with a shy-looking man of Chinese descent in a corner table, and identifies him as Andrew Kwok. The shy man demurs, introducing himself as Philip Chang. John pulls out a scanner, insisting that this device identifies the shy man as Kwok - and that he came to warn Kwok that I.O. is looking into Project Thunderbook. At this, the shy man stops smiling. He explains that while Lynch gave him a new fake identity, he didn't trust Lynch to crack under torture, so he used his money to get plastic surgery and a new fake ID, and moved on with his life. He has a wife now, and two children - Hector & Percival, both named for their mother's love of Arthurian myth.

At this point, John Lynch starts to bleed from his good eye, as Chang explains that he will kill Lynch in the most painless way he can find, and then hide the body. Lynch responds by shooting him in the face, but Chang is able to slow the bullet in midair. Chang boasts that a single bullet will not be enough - so Lynch fires six more. As Chang sweats from holding all of them, Lynch explains that while Chang's ability to hyperfocus made him a great assassin, it left him unable to multitask, which is why he's about to die. Pausing to shoot the barman, who has pulled out his shotgun in response to the noise, Lynch questions why, despite the respect he has tried to show them by giving a fair warning, all the Thunderbook enhanciles have done is boast of their offspring, or try to kill him. As he struggles against the bullets, Chang stutters that this may be because the alien enhancements they have mean that the agents are no longer strictly human, but are driven by goals of conquest or colonization. Lynch muses, says he will see that Chang's kids are cared for, and then shoots Chang in the head. Pausing only to throw a grenade which starts a fire and covers his tracks, he flees the scene.

In New York, Miles Craven is having a videophone conversation with Henry Bendix. Bendix shows footage of the remains of Hightower, and insists that he does not care enough about I.O. to cover his tracks when he attacks them. That he truly believes that the Earth would be best used as a resource supply center for the space-based civilization Skywatch is building. And that if I.O. touches his people again, he will use one of the Little Sticks on I.O.'s New York headquarters, and leave Craven to bury the dead and explain the damage.

Craven responds by saying he will relinquish control of the Skywatch Ground Division offices, but that the surviving agent, Lucy Blaze, is officially barred from New York, on pain of death. With a gesture of contempt, he ends the transmission.

Walking back to his office, Miles Craven meets his head of Analysis, Jackie King, who explains that forensics on Mitch Saunders' phone showed the presence of spyware - spyware that Skywatch specifically tried to erase. Skywatch knows what they did, but not how they did it. But Skywatch's reliance on hardware leaves them vulnerable to basic electronic weaknesses - by deploying countermeasures against the recent bot attack, Skywatch showed where their space station was. Should I.O. require, they can just nuke them.

Miles asks Jackie if she wants a war, and Jackie responds in the negative - she wants an execution, and if Miles will not give the order, she will pursue her goal by other means.

Going to her office, Jackie throws a computer monitor through a glass divider in frustration.

In a Skywatch safehouse, Lauren Pennington is congratulating Lucy Blaze on her recent actions, and his informing her of a new, roving brief, where she covers cases all over America. Lucy wonders if this is a punishment for her actions during the I.O. attack on the New York offices, but Pennington insists - this is all good news.

Besides, says Pennington as she raises a glass of wine, given the current détente between Skywatch and I.O., New York might not be around long enough for Lucy to properly miss.

In Jacob Marlowe's safehouse, Angie Spica has "found" a copy of the machine telepathy data the wild CAT brought back from the Hightower blacksite, and has used it to change how she interacts with her implanted technology. Unprepared, she wonders if she can use it to access the internet... and her technology responds by logging her onto the internet, visualised as a set off central hubs with individual nodes splitting off them in neat patterns.

Angie is amazed at this scene, but is even more surprised when she is greeted by Jenny Mei Sparks, who immediately imposes herself on Angie's electronic view and introduces herself, saying that she is the person who lives here.

The two introduce themselves - Angie as a woman who built a robot suit into herself and is on the run from IO, and who has been taken in by the tech mogul Jacob Marlowe, but is also stealing from him; and Jenny as a woman who is over a century old, not entirely human, distrusts IO and Skywatch, can live inside communications systems, and carries a lot of electricity.

Jenny decides that she likes Angie, and that if Angie ever needs to escape from Jacob Marlowe, she only needs to call, and Jenny will come and help - her and every friend she can bring. With a lazy wave, Jenny Mei Sparks vanishes - leaving Angie's world a little stranger and a little nicer.

Somewhere west of there, John Lynch parks his car in a driveway. He walks a path through rocky grounds in a red twilight, towards a minimalist two-story house with a hexagonal tower sticking out of it. Seeing the front door ajar, he remembers the danger he faced at his previous stops, so he pulls out his gun and moves carefully through the building.

He finds nothing on the ground floor, moving through a spacious and expertly-cleaned house, before checking in the hexagonal tower. And there, a floating woman with glowing red eyes advises him to put his gun away before she makes him have an accident. John recognises her at once: Gloria Spaulding, the woman he came here to see. He compliments her on her house and warns her that IO may be looking into Project Thunderbook, the program which gave her an alien genetic implant, and that she should be careful for a bit, but that considering the obvious costly nature of her house, the care she has taken to protect herself, and her untroubled status, he thinks she will be fine.

Curious, he asks her if she has had a child since they last saw, like Kwok, like Fairchild. Gloria admits she felt a great compulsion to have a baby, but once she had given birth, her normal detached nature reasserted itself, and she abandoned the child with Gloria's mother.

Gloria's detachment always served her well in her IO role as a black bag operative specialising in retrieving items or data. It served her well in the private sector, where her skills have earned her money, and the trust of "all kinds of interesting and spooky friends". But her Thunderbook implant, in addition to granting her superhuman power, also worked to calm her anxieties, to the point where now she feels... nothing, neither positive emotions or negative.

Gloria says that Lynch needs to leave, as she has to pack up and go into hiding, but in thanks for the warning, she leaves him with one in turn: Marc Slayton's implant can remember where it came from.

As the floor tiles starts to float loose, Lynch runs for the door. He makes it to his car as the house disassembles, and as he drives away, in the rearview mirror, he sees a feminine silhouette against the red moon, dragging the substance of the house into the twilight sky behind it.

In Jacob Marlowe's fortress warehouse, Angie Spica is asking Cole Cash for help, as he knows more about guns than she does. Cole wonders aloud what she would do with such information - whereupon, Angie uses her implants to create an object the same size and shape as a handgun bullet cartridge. Without Cole's training, she can only create prop. With Cole's help, she can safely pull apart bullets and guns, scan them all - and she will never be unarmed again!

Stephen Rainmaker was the most dangerous man John Lynch knew even before he was inducted into the Thunderbook program. So much so that nobody could quite define how Thunderbook changed him. On his trip around America to warn his old team, Lynch left Rainmaker until last— for a reason. This is the visit that Lynch always knew could kill him. Meanwhile, Marc Slayton is discovering new things about America, IO and Skywatch.

Miles Craven needs a minute, but Jackie King, who has an appointment with him, insists that he do his job as the head of International Operations. Based on the data her team recovered from their illegal hack on the computers of Skywatch, Cole Cash—the former IO operative they presumed dead but who showed up as part of a wild CAT who interfered with an assassination—is not working for Skywatch, but they now have a positive ID on one other member of the wild CAT, who was an astronaut who died decades ago. She thinks they can investigate more.

Miles Craven lists off his problems: Jacob Marlowe, the tech billionaire whose death he ordered, is still alive. Angie Spica, the rogue IO engineer whose capture he ordered, is missing. Mitch Saunders, the IO office worker who was the victim of a Skywatch phone bug, is dead, and when he attacked the Skywatch office in New York in retaliation, the two heavily-armed teams he sent were singlehandedly shot to death by Skywatch agent Lucy Blaze. Michael Cray, the IO assassin who he ordered to be "retired", is alive and working for a San Francisco division of Skywatch. Hightower, the IO research station, was hacked by parties unknown, and then destroyed from orbit by Skywatch as a show of strength. Craven is left feeling like someone is pulling a con on him, and that they are winning at his expense.

Angry, Jackie responds that Craven only feels like this because he is weak. Craven is angered by this, but becomes defensive, saying he has to be proportionate in his actions. Jackie recites the speech he gave when he took control of IO, about how the agency was beholden to a mission to save the world from chaos and anarchy, and in the service of that mission, they would do great and terrible things. Now chaotic events are assailing the world... and Miles Craven is sleeping in his office and complaining to her. If he cannot be equal to the burden of the times, she says, he should give the job to someone else.

On Skywatch's satellite, Henry Bendix, the agency's head, is talking to Dr Ragnar Helspont, the head of the agency's posthuman experimental reseach office. Helspont has good news—Christine Trelane sent him the medical readouts about Michael Cray, who Skywatch secretly implanted with something years ago which activated recently due to a surge of electromagnetism he received while trying to assassinate Jacob Marlowe.

Helspont boasts that he has been watching all the people Skywatch perpetrated posthuman research on, and says that his mind-control implants will perfectly when the time comes. Helspont wonders why Bendix does not keep these slave posthumans on this space station, to be teleported to Earth on his whim, but Bendix shoots down the idea, saying that if one got free, they could easily rupture the hull and kill everyone.

Helspont mentions that he used to work as part of Project Thunderbook, but left with all his research when John Lynch shuttered the program. Defecting to Skywatch, he was able to create fascinating—and controllable—human variants. Skywatch's previous subjects were prone to neural damage, but Helspont is confident in his work. "Everything in Heaven is fine"

In Jenny Mei Sparks' London flat, Shen Li-Men has recovered from trying to treat Jack Hawksmoor, who is in the shower with a shaving kit and a bag of new clothes. She says he has neural damage which is causing his amnesia and his eccentric actions, and while she can treat the symptoms, she needs to find the cause. Jenny says she just needs to know if Jack is able for the vigilante actions she plans to start, or if he needs to be somewhere quiet, to recover. Jack, clean-shaven, emerges from the shower and defends himself—though he may never fully recover, he is absolutely ready to get revenge on the people who gave him amnesia.

On a country backroad, John Lynch is driving. When he comes across Marc Slayton with, he responds fast, firing a flashbang from a grenade launcher to stun Slayton, and then another to further incapacitate him. Exiting the car, he spells out his position—the whole time Slayton has been trying to track him, Lynch had a tracking device on Slayton's car. Before, Slayton was able to surprise him, but that advantage is gone now.

Lych pulls out his handgun, and explains how fearsome his bullets are. Slayton pulls out his coils, and prepares to lash back, but Lynch fires first—and shoots a hole in Slayton's car's, from the engine to the license plate. As Slayton pauses in confusion, Lynch spells out his position—he does not want to kill Slayton. He does not care about Slayton. But if IO is coming for Project Thunderbook, then they will strike at him from their New York headquarters, and the only way for Slayton to defend himself is with an offense against IO and its head, Miles Craven. Confused, Slayton looks to "the Carer", the hallucinatory embodiment of his alien implant, and it agrees with Lynch. Wishing Slayton good fortune, Lynch gets back in his car and drives away.

In the wild CAT's safehouse, Angie is writing a goodbye letter, explaining her respect for Adri, how she is leaving all her data on Kenesha's computer, and how she hopes to meet them again but will not come looking for more favors. That done, she puts out a message just as Jenny Sparks told her... and Shen appears appears and invite to walk through a doorway in space. Perplexed, Jenny complies and finds herself in Jenny's London apartment. Shen introduces Jack, who Angie immediately recognizes as the New York homeless man known as "the mayor". Angie explains that what finally convinced her to join Jenny's gang was a phantasmagorial visitation from a being whose likeness she produces—who Shen recognizes from her magical knowledge—and who referred to Jenny as having "the authority". Jenny accepts this news without blinking.

On a train somewhere in America, Michael Cray is explaining to a fellow passenger that his former employers were all jerks and he is travelling to New York by train to give one in particular a piece of his mind. She accepts this information at face value, but in the reflection of the window, the face that represents Michael's superhuman implant is smiling.

In the wild CAT's safehouse, Jacob Marlowe, the team's patron, is reading Angie's letter in mild frustration, but before the team can read it, Kenesha bursts in and informs them that an IO research station has just trapped a cosmic particle of immense power, and they need to raid the facility at once to stop any research.

At an open air cocktail bar in Los Angeles, a pair of aliens whose faces resemble the true face of John Colt—and the faces of Slayton & Cray's implants—are ordering drinks and complaining about how difficult it is to manage Earth. They are both glad that nobody else can perceive as as strange—especially when Lucy Blaze walks into the bar and orders a water. The aliens recognize her as "Zannah of the Khera", a former underling of Emp, the rebel who sabotaged the Kheran mission to convert Earth into a slave state. Zannah in turn rebelled against Emp, and so today, the two aliens have to balance Emp & Zannah's agendas, and IO's, and Skywatch's, all in secret, just to give the humans a chance at evolving naturally. And for this thankless job, they have rewarded themselves by choosing to get drunk on this, their night off.

On the Skywatch satellite, Bendix and Pennington are looking out over a view of Earth and a backdrop of stars. Bendix is considering giving Helspont a higher budget. And doing something radical to make Earth more "useful". And killing Miles Craven. As he considers, he sings a children's song and grins maniacally.

REVIEW

By an annoying mistake, there are two issues #13. It will surely bug people forever.

As I said before, this story is too decompressed. Had it been bi-weekly, it would have been acceptable. But it took a bit more than two years to complete and it’s nothing but a big long prologue.

But I’ll tell you why that is great instead. Unlike DCU and MCU... and even the early Image Universe, the world of WorldStorm is cohesive. Everything was designed from the same world. It’s not a panache of properties, all banding together in the same universe. I feel like that is the strongest appeal of Wildstorm, well at least the properties around StormWatch. In these issues we are kind of seeing the groups forming (WildCATS, Authority, Gen13), but as I also said before, I do not know if these properties will take off anytime soon. But at least they are better now than at the beginning of the New 52 (Although StormWatch/Demon Knights was quite good).

Ellis and David-Hunt are also perfect for this title. It’s their work together that delivers amazing action sequences with some mind-bending graphics. Sure, it is pretty violent, but that was to be expected from WildStorm.

One of the moments that gave me the most pleasure, was seeing Apollo and Midnighter, even though, we do not actually see them, it is very obvious it’s them. They have history in the DCU as well, very recently, so I guess that may have... gone away.

Do you think Sam Elliott is too old to play Lynch?

I give these issues a score of 9.

#jon davis-hunt #the wild storm #wildstorm #dc comics #comics #review #2018 #post modern age #the authority #gen13 #stormwatch #wildcats

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