#book 1 is objectively boring like fuck all actually happens until the last chapter but oh my godddd i want you to keep reading so bad
Note
hi hella I read the first 2 chapters of aftg and this is how it went
ok tbh I was planning on going further than two chapters like I said I'm in a mountain shack rn internet isn't always great and also my dad would prefer that I'm not constantly on my phone so I was SUPPOSED to do more reading. but. tee bee h. I got through 2 chapters and was like oh I'm so fucking bored let me get on tumblr again
okay but your commentary is so fucking funny
#half the things bugging you are making me want to bash my head into a wall bc im like. you cannot even begin to fathom andrew joseph minyard#but then the other half are totally valid points bc alas this series is INSANE so i literally have no right to be here like 'ACTUALLY-'#goddddd i cant do this i quite literally fucking cant#'tf does he mean aaron's mother' THE VOICES THE FUCKING VOICES#book 1 is objectively boring like fuck all actually happens until the last chapter but oh my godddd i want you to keep reading so bad#like one of the best things about how andrew's character was written (NEVER thought id say that. fuck you nora)#is that we dont actually understand WHY he's like that until like. a good way through book 2 and we're still figuring it out by book 3#like his backstory is ripped from his bloody hands piece by torturous piece while he actively tries to bite the reader#esp bc he does not catch a fucking break. like it's not past-tense 'this is why he's like this'. bad shit continues to happen#so book 1 andrew just does not even compare to the full picture like i want you to know him SO BAD#but i also totally understand the desire to Not Want To Read These Godforsaken Books#im in PURGATORY#ask#aftg
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Songbird 1 - A Mission
Songbird - Chapter 1
A/N: This is sort of an AU kind of thing. It’s gonna mix fanon and canon info, so bear with me. It also contains spoilers for a lot of the BNHA/MHA plot (manga and anime). This is also very self-indulgent. The main character is an OC of mine, so I'm sorry if you're not into that.
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the BNHA/MHA universe, nor its characters. This work is intended for entertainment purposes only. My own characters are, however, of my creation.
Content Warnings: Mentions of death(s), including of family members. Some violence. Blood. Mentions of sharp objects such as knives, swords, scissors, etc. Tattoos. Swearing/strong language.
The sun shined down on Asa's wings, causing her white feathers to reflect the light into her opponent's eyes. This gave her the advantage she needed to send them flying backward, causing his back to hit one of the gym's walls.
"Another bloody training session, my Commander," Caique chuckled, handing Asa a bottle of water and a towel. The warrior was drenched in sweat, red in the face, and her ponytail was quickly slipping undone.
"Thanks, Caique," She thanked him, taking the bottle and gulping half of the content in less than 3 seconds.
"Wow, intense cardio today?" He teased, covering his smirk with a heavily tattooed hand.
"Why, yes, actually," Her eyebrows were raised as she patted the towel across her neck and face, "Will you be joining me for muscle training?" She set the items on a bench to her left.
"Unfortunately, we have a meeting in fifteen minutes with the parliament. You should get ready," He frowned, a grave tone lacing his words.
"Fuck," Asa groaned. If there was one thing she hated more than forced cardio, it was parliament meetings. Those old, white-headed people were a bore and downright entitled. This was going to be torture.
"You should avoid repeating that word during the meeting," Caique's sarcasm fell to deaf ears. Asa was already marching to the showers to make herself at least presentable for the meeting.
"We'll meet at the emerald doors?" Once again, he was ignored. The tall male smiled at her back with fondness. He felt sorry for the parliament members.
The truth was, the members were afraid of Asa. They often had to walk on eggshells around her, especially during meetings. Her herculean resolve to make sure the decisions being made would cater to the people's needs led her to - for lack of a better word - passionate verdicts. Until, eventually, Caique would swoop in and help them find a middle ground solution.
That was the only reason he was allowed into these meetings. He was only the Captain of the Royal Guard. But Asa, the Commander of Her Majesty's army, was a force to be reckoned with, especially when it came to the people. And she only listened to him.
In the parliament meeting room, the members were silently talking amongst themselves. You could say they were preparing for a storm. Kind of like we prepare ourselves before a gruesome class with a tyrant professor.
"I swear! That woman is too temperamental for her position. We don't need a Commander that'll lose their marbles every time a minor crime occurs. This is why I would've preferred the Queen had chosen Yara to be Commander." One of them grumbled as they all took their seats.
"I agree. But Minister Yara is doing a fantastic job! Farmers have never produced so much in such a short time! Her openness to new and sustainable practices is what brought our crops back to life!"
"True, but she would have made a fine Minister of Security. Though I believe perhaps Domi's warrior background would've also made a perfect fit!"
"Yes, yes!" They chorused in agreement. Yara and Domi listened to their whispers with frowns. They knew Asa better than anyone. Although she could be hard to deal with, she deserved her position more than anyone.
"Good morning," Asa's voice echoed in the large meeting room. The ministers took their seats, greeting her back with low voices and bowed heads. Caique and her scoffed as they sat down.
Not a minute later, the doors opened again. Santos, the Queen's right-hand man, came in. He was dressed in a long royal blue coat with silver trimmings, dark leather pants, and a white chemise. His black books clicked as he made his way to the end of the large table in the center of the room.
"Let's try to be as concise and objective as possible," He gave Asa a pointed look and sat down. She smiled back at him mischievously. The two had a brother-sister relationship. Santos often had to scold her for some of her escapades, so to speak.
The meeting began, and Asa tried her best to behave. Whenever he noticed her wings flutter, Caique would softly nudge her so she'd calm herself. It wasn't her fault these old farts were about as wise as a rotten egg. Oh, how she wished she could just sink her sword in-
"Minister Asa," Asa lifted her eyes from the table. "Please present your diplomacy strategies." Santos raised an eyebrow, urging her to do as he said.
"Right," Asa cleared her throat and stood up.
"Dear members of the court," She greeted them, "For our diplomatic measures and to ensure peace throughout the kingdom, I have a few strategies."
Two hours later, the meeting ended. Santos asked Asa to stay behind to discuss some plans they had, so she dismissed Caique.
Once the Hand of the Queen and her were alone, Asa took a seat closer to him and grabbed one of the papers stacked in front of him.
"If we could just convince Minister Isaac that the anti-rebellion plan is too extreme mayb-" Santos raised a hand, interrupting her.
"Asa, I didn't ask you to stay behind to discuss politics."
"You didn't?"
"No, I did not."
"Okay... Then for what? I have some training to conduct."
"I'm aware," Santos chuckled. "The Queen is coming to talk to you. It's somewhat of an urgent matter." He trailed off, unsure of how to explain the situation without alarming Asa. It was too late for that.
"The Queen?!" Asa all but shrieked. "What's going on? Are we under imminent attack? Have my scouts returned with grave news?" Asa stood up abruptly, ready to leave and prepare the army for an attack. Her wings were preparing to take flight when she felt a hand on her wrist.
"Calm down, Asa, please!" Santos tried his best to hold onto her.
"My child," Asa stilled at the Queen's voice. "Please calm yourself. You are Commander of the Royal Army, act as such."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Asa immediately answered, bowing in respect.
"Now, Santos, please explain why Asa isn't holding the usual training session right now." The Queen asked as she took Santos's seat.
Her Majesty, Queen Yeba of Pindorama, was a powerful and intimidating woman. She had brown skin, with a red undertone, pale yellow eyes, and white hair. Her facial features were always schooled to be serious, but the lines around her lips showed how much the Queen truly enjoyed life. She had full eyebrows, a slightly flat round nose, plump lips, and high cheekbones. Queen Yeba represented the richness and power of her land, and Asa had always admired her.
"Asa, as her Majesty had entrusted me with telling you why you're here," Santos began, "Please listen until the end. If you have any questions or objections, you can ask them once I'm done." Asa nodded for him to continue.
"Her Majesty has received an urgent message from the Prime Minister of Japan." Santos took the vacant seat to the right of the Queen. "They have recently dealt with a powerful villain, with a quirk named All For One. Unfortunately, the results of the confrontation were devastating. Many of their champions, or heroes as they call them, were lost in battle or severely wounded. Physically and mentally."
Asa furrowed her eyebrows. She knew that kingdom from the hours she spent reviewing war tactics and diplomatic agreements. They were on good terms, and she hoped they stayed that way.
"They were, however, able to capture the dangerous quirk owner, as well as some of his followers. Most importantly, they managed to capture his would-be successor, a man with a decay quirk." Santos looked at the Queen to confirm he could go on.
"Continue, Santos."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Santos cleared his throat and continued. "They believe our healing assistance would be of great help. We are known for our many powerful healing quirks. And our natural resources are valuable assets in the medical area."
"This is a wonderful idea, Your Highness," Asa smiled. "If we lend them a few of our healers and send some resources for their hospitals, our alliance will grow even stronger!"
"That is one of the points. But, I'm afraid you have a specific role to play in this part." Santos fiddled with his fingers, afraid of what Asa's reaction to what he was about to say would be.
"I don't understand," Asa frowned, "I'll prepare a team to escort the healers and equipment. Right?" She looked from the Queen to Santos back and forth.
"I shall tell her, Santos. Thank you for your help." The Queen smiled at him and stood up, her royal blue dress cascading down her frame.
"Asa, my child," Queen Yeba stood behind her chair and placed her hands on Asa's shoulders. "You are being sent as a healer. And you will stay as a show of our alliance."
"What?" Asa's voice dropped to a whisper. "Your Highness, I'm not a healer. I'm a warrior, a soldier at best. I live to serve you and the army." Her words were pronounced clearly, strongly. Her wings were puffed out.
"We need a spy there. The Prime Minister needs someone to keep an eye on their Hero Commission. It's an organization that has been causing nothing but trouble, and he fears what will happen should they get their hands on the decay quirk. Or worse." The Queen explained.
"Oh," Asa sighed in relief. "So I won't really have to act as a healer?"
"Not quite..." Santos intervened.
"Oh boy."
"Oh boy, indeed, Asa," Her Majesty chuckled. "You'll have to brush up on those healing techniques books."
"With all due respect," Asa pursed her lips, "The last time I practiced healing, I was six years old. It was before I lost my parents to the War of Clouds. I don't think I'm the right person for this mission." She bit her lip, trying not to think about her family.
"I understand." The Queen then did something unexpected. She kneeled next to Asa's chair and looked up at her, holding her hands.
"Listen, my child," She began. Asa's and Santos's eyes widened as they gaped at their monarch on her knees. Asa's entire body, including her wings, went rigid.
"You have to let go of the hurt and the wounds of the past," She squeezed Asa's hands in her own, "You can be the kindest and most talented healer of all times. It's in your blood. Allow yourself to reconnect with your roots, rediscover your quirk. Bring honor to your family, Asa of the Kuatamunato tribe."
"My Queen, I'm not sure. I don't want to cause issues if I can't perform any healing."
"That won't be a problem. You'll have plenty of time to prepare."
"Really? That's great! I'll start studying right away."
"Uh, Asa? Her Majesty meant you'll have plenty of time there."
"Wait, what?"
"Indeed, Asa," Queen Yeba stood up. "You're leaving tomorrow."
"My Queen!" Asa began to protest, but the Queen interrupted her.
"I won't hear your excuses anymore, Asa. Santos will explain the rest." The Queen left after that, not giving Asa a chance to object.
Asa turned to Santos, eyebrows almost touching her hairline.
"Well?"
"Right, I should probably explain it a bit more."
"Yeah, you should." Asa crossed her arms.
"Okay," Santos took a deep breath. "You now know about their situation and the kind of help they need. And you heard the Queen herself ask you to go and act as a healer."
"Yes, I'm almost painfully aware of that burden."
"Less sass, please. Just listen," Santos pointed his finger at her. "What Her Majesty means is that you'll be sent there as a healer, but also as a spy. Your actual mission will be to gather information on the Hero Commission and their illegal, borderline cruel activities. We have a few files you can go over during your trip."
"Okay, everything makes sense except for the healer part." Asa sighed. "Santos, you and I both know I am incapable of healing a freaking plant, let alone a bunch of champions from another country. I'm afraid this will be a disaster."
"Here's the thing: Your cover is going to be as healer and teacher at a hero high school."
"You're demoting me to school nurse?! I'm the fucking Commander of the Royal Army! I'm no school nurse!" Asa bellowed indignantly, her wings flapping behind her aggressively. Santos resisted the urge to snort at her outburst and continued.
"At the school, you'll also be lecturing music classes-"
"Ah, the classic Siren method."
"That is your quirk, Asa."
"Whatever. This still sounds insane."
"Asa!" Santos reprimanded. "Her Majesty is doing this for you. We considered sending other soldiers, spies, and healers for this task. We chose you because of your abilities, your training, and your quirk. You have to start letting go of the past. Her Majesty believes this will give you a chance to embrace your quirk." Asa felt her shoulders tense. He had no right speaking about her past like that.
"It's stopping you from developing. Your wings are growing weaker every year, and you know this. You know you need to use your quirk to keep your whole body strong. Why are you torturing yourself like this?" Santos was grasping at straws, hoping to get any sort of reaction from her.
And he did. Asa stood up, her icy blue eyes dark and glazed over. Her wings were wide open, intimidating him. She looked into his eyes and sneered.
"Because I wasn't enough. I couldn't save anyone." Asa gritted out. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Asa had to calm down. She couldn't lose control now.
"What time do I leave?"
"Tomorrow after lunch."
"Who's to take over after I leave?"
"Caique."
"Good. I've done my best to train Caique."
"I'll make sure to keep him in line."
"I hate that you're right."
"I know. I love you, too, my little sister." Santos walked over to her and pulled her into an embrace.
"Where in Japan am I going to?"
"Musutafu."
"I hate it already."
"Of course. It wouldn't be you if you didn't."
Chapter 2
#bnha#mha#hawks x oc#keigo takami x oc#hawks#keigo takami#bnha au#bnha oc#hawks fanfic#bnha fanfic#boku no hero academia#my hero academia
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Dragon Warrior/Quest ramblings/collective review
I rant about the Dragon Quest franchise a lot.
Two of my video game pet peeves are when people laude the original Dragon Warrior/Dragon Quest as ground breaking (it’s not, see Wizardy/Ultima), or the great grandfather of JRPGs (it’s not, see Hydlide/Dragon Slayer/Fantasian/)
I’m generally not a fan of silent protagonists. I rarely identify enough with a character to feel like I’m “in” the game, so I prefer to be playing the role of a character with some kind of dialogue and a personality. Every dragon quest (that I’ve played) has a silent protagonist.
That said, I do have some love for the series. I’ve suddenly found myself interested in giving Dragon Quest XI a spin, but instead I went back to Dragon Warrior IV. I remembered liking it as a kid and I’m happy to say I’ve been having as much fun playing it now as I remember having back then. Here are my thoughts on the dragon quest games separated into the ones I’ve finished and the ones I haven’t (mainline only).
Games I’ve Finished
Dragon Quest:
This is grinding the game.
Strategy is almost nonexistent in the battle system outside of “Grind XP to LVL UP/Gold to buy better equipment”. You have 1 character and you never fight more than 1 enemy, so all fights are one-on-one. There isn’t any equipment with special traits or functions (just better Attack/Defense). You get access to a total of 6 spells in the game:
Heal
Heal More
Heal Most
Hurt
Hurt More
Hurt Most
(these last 3 are usually a waste of MP)
The plot is linear (except for potentially at the very end of the game). At least there’s a decent amount of exploration.
Worse than Final fantasy I and Phantasy Star I by far, but to be fair, Enix did better with Dragon Quest II, which beat both of these competitors to the punch.
Dragon Quest II:
So much better than the original.
The grind is mediated by choices that matter in regards to equipment and combat. Also, you have an actual party this time (of 3), Also, Also, you can fight multiple enemies at the same time. Dragon Quest II added a much wider variety of spells (buff, debuff, and elemental damage spells); Equipment that had special functions when used as an item in combat (e.g. the Lightning Staff can cast whoosh), and a smidge more plot.
Many people say more grinding is required in II than in the original, but I would argue that Dragon Quest I is nothing but grinding whereas Dragon Quest II breaks up the monotony with a dose of strategy.
Comparable to Final Fantasy I. Far worse than Phantasy Star I.
Dragon Quest V:
Decent.
Also the first game originating on the Super Famicom (although we didn’t get an official English translation till the DS remake)
Allows for a party of 3 (4 in the DS remake). Considered groundbreaking by many for it’s monster recruitment system but it wasn’t the first game to have one by any means (Megami Tensei beat it by 5 years and Wizardry IV by 4).
The game is divided into sections based on time periods as you grow from a kid to a teen to an adult, which is a cool way of pacing the games content, and gives you a little more perspective on the setting than you typically get in a Dragon Quest game.
Characters are mostly boring outside of one (or two) of the love interests. Did I mention this game has love interests? I think I would have liked it better if there was only one, because it punched me in the heart for not picking the one it leads up to as the primary love interest (who also happens to be the canon one). Has really frustrating setting/plot-gender dynamics with two characters late in the game who I won’t name because spoilers.
Games I’ve Played but haven’t finished
Dragon Quest III:
My least favorite game in the series (out of the ones I’ve played).
This time you have a protagonist and you can hire adventures to join you on your quest. They are all nobody characters. Their personalities are assigned at random, and (from what I can tell) only effect their growth. There’s no fucking dialogue with them (which is something I expected after DQ II).
Personalities and seeds are fucking annoying, because both of them are random, have huge differences in their effects, and their effects make a huge difference in character capabilities, so it makes me want to spend hours saving/reloading until I get the effects I want. Fuck this game for introducing seeds to the series which appeared in many Dragon Quest games after this (thankfully I haven’t run into personalities again yet).
Often lauded for having the “groundbreaking” option of changing character classes/jobs. Yes this came out before Final Fantasy III (Japan), but I would like to make the following points:
- Final Fantasy I let you pick your character classes (which came out beforehand)
- Final Fantasy III had a class change system you could actually make use of throughout the game (unlike DQ III where you need to get about halfway through the game first)
- The original Wizardry came out 7 years earlier and also had a much more accessible class change system than DQ III
I played very little of Dragon Quest III (I dropped it before even getting to my 2nd town).
Two great thing about this games: It’s the first in the series to give you the option of playing as a woman, and I heard it’s the game that introduced the casino/mini games to the franchise.
Dragon Quest IV:
This game is Great!
Also, Unlike the first three games in the series, Dragon Quest IV might actually be groundbreaking.
You ever play Wild Arms I, II, or III? Did you enjoy playing through the prologues that introduce your early party members? Well Dragon Quest IV does a similar thing:
The game is divided into chapters. Each chapter has a different protagonist. In their chapter you play them as silent protagonist, but when you encounter them later in the game they have dialogue. This does a lot to develop much of the cast, because you can see how people react to/talk with them and later on you can see how they engage with the player character (who you’re actually introduced to last).
The cast is great and falls into a mix of both very old school and very uncommon tropes for a JRPG: You have an aging knight who goes on a mission to rescue children and then goes on a journey to find more about the ominous forces behind their kidnappers (Ragnar). Then there’s a princess who wants to go on an adventure against her fathers wishes so she kicks a hole in the wall of her room and jumps out of the castle (Alena); she’s joined by a young priest (Cristo) and an elderly mage (Brey) employed by her father, who give up on bringing her home and instead ask to travel with her to help her out. Next you have a merchant who wants to raise enough money to buy his own storefront (Taloon). After that you play a Fortune Teller (Nara) who travels with her dancer sister (Mara) on a quest to avenge the death of their father (an alchemist who was murdered by his apprentice). Each chapter ends on a climax related to motivations/goals of its lead character and each chapter shows more of the world/gives out more info on what is going on behind the scenes.
While you actively control the primary characters of a chapter other characters are either controlled completely by AI (in chapters I-IV), or loosely follow a tactical strategy you select (chapter V). I’ve been getting on fine with it, but this might be a deal breaker for some.
The music is better than any of the Dragon Quest games I’ve finished (and what I’ve heard from any of the ones I’ve played, but not finished).
A remake of this game has an interesting flaw: they cut all the party chart dialogue from the foreign language versions of the DS version; so if you don’t know Japanese, you’ll probably miss out on a lot of character interaction with that version.
(I heard this had something to do with concerns that the game wouldn’t make enough sales to cover translation costs of the party chart [which was reputedly two thirds of the game’s script]).
Dragon Quest VI
Honestly I’ve barely played this one.
You have actual characters for party members (a big plus in my book). I’ve heard there’s a job system as well. Plot/setting seem decently interesting on first glance. I might come back to this one later.
Dragon Quest VIII
I got about halfway through this one.
They included a character-specific skill tree system which is cool, except that there are objectively best routes to take for some (possibly all?) characters and these best routes are not even close to obvious from the outset. It introduced a pretty fun crafting system.
There’s a decent cast of characters, but they don’t have quite enough going on for my tastes (my fave is Yangus). Plot has an interesting premise, but feels very barebones, and the environments/towns/npcs aren’t very interesting (maybe about as good as DQV, but worse than IV).
This game gets lauded for the 3D models of characters/enemies, but honestly I’ve never been a fan of the character designs of Dragon Quest (especially the monsters), so I feel pretty “meh” about it outside of being able to see your party members in combat (for I think the first time in the series), which is very nice. The music is very ambient a lot of the time. It does a good job of fitting melancholy moments, but doesn’t do such a great job of building excitement during battles and high-tension events.
Dragon Quest IX
This game feels a lot like Dragon Quest III.
You don’t have any actual characters, you just recruit them and use them in battle (no meaningful intraparty dialogue, character development, etc.) I think I played around 10-20 hours before dropping it.
Final Thoughts
Dragon Quest games vary from game to game in terms of gameplay mechanics, but they vary a great deal more when it comes to characters.
If you like having a lot of control over your party composition and don’t care about having characters with personality, you might like Dragon Quest III, V, or IX.
If you want a party comprised of characters who interact, have personalities, and might even develop over time, you might like Dragon Quest IV, or (sort of) VIII (I haven’t played much of VI, or any of VII or XI, but I heard they also fall into this camp).
If you want to play an old school, 8-Bit JRPG that launched a spectacular franchise, might have actually been ground-breaking for its time, and is still fun to play today, check out the original Phantasy Star.
. . . . . . (at least, for me it’s still fun to this day)
[notes:
- edited some typos, and mistakes most notably regarding the Hurt series of spells in Dragon Quest I
- Revised some word choices
- Added a comment about being able to see your party in combat in Dragon Quest VIII]
#Dragon Warrior#Dragon Quest#Dragon Warrior IV#Dragon Quest IV#Dragon Quest II#Dragon Warrior II#Dragon Quest III#Dragon Warrior III#Dragon Quest V#Dragon Quest VI#Dragon Quest VIII#I'm generally not a fan of silent protagonists
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Midnight Sun: Chapter One - My Descent Into Madness
(reposted from my blog)
I kind of want to be dramatic and say I have a long, sordid history with Twilight, but I’m not sure that’s accurate. I do have a history, but it is one of pain, tears, and frustration.
I’m a firm believer in reading a ‘bad’ book to form your own opinion on it instead of just believing what you’re told...
The criticisms against Twilight were more than justified.
It took me multiple attempts to get through the first book – The first time I didn’t even finish the first chapter. I loathed Bella Swan from the moment we met her. She whined nonstop, she bitched nonstop, and was instantly so shallow and two-faced to everyone she met that I wanted to punch her in her (at the time) nondescript face.
But I tried again and again and finally finished the series. I remember crying during the Breaking Dawn because nothing was fucking happening and there was so much left in the book and I just wanted it to END.
Then my brain, trying to save me, made me forget everything about what I read. When I realized what had happened, I checked my Goodreads to make sure I did, in fact, read those books and they weren’t just a fever dream sent by the forces of evil to torment me.
As much as I appreciated the attempt, I earned those scars... at least audiobooks are easier to get through, even though I had to pause them to rage, again, at the idiocy.
And now... Now we have Midnight Sun. I believe I skimmed the leaked book but never gave it any real attention... so, of course, the full book gets released the day after my 34th birthday.
Joy.
But it gives me an excuse to try something I always wanted to do: Snarking bad books... because if I have to suffer, you might as well too!
So... without further delay... here is the first chapter, as seen by me, of Midnight Sun.
Chapter 1: First Sight
We open up with Edward being a melodramatic prick about having to go to school and how boring it is.
THIS WAS THE TIME OF DAY WHEN I MOST WISHED I WERE ABLE TO SLEEP.
High school.
Or was purgatory the right word? If there were any way to atone for my sins, this ought to count toward the tally in some measure. The tedium was not something I grew used to; every day seemed more impossibly monotonous than the last.
Followed quickly by how much humans, especially teenagers, suck absolute ass.
When it came to the human mind, I’d heard it all before and then some. Today, all thoughts were consumed with the trivial drama of a new addition to the small student body. It took so little to work them up. I’d seen the new face repeated in thought after thought from every angle. Just an ordinary human girl. The excitement over her arrival was tiresomely predictable—it was the same reaction as one would get from flashing a shiny object at a group of toddlers. Half the sheep-like males were already imagining themselves infatuated with her, just because she was something new to look at. I tried harder to tune them out.
Don’t you just love him already?
This is only the first page... It’s not even a full page...
Edward tells us how he tries not to listen to his siblings then tells us exactly what his siblings are thinking.
He shames Rosalie for thinking about how hot she is, but since that’s her only personality trait we ever got in the entire saga (besides bitch), I’m not that worked up over it. She’s hot and she knows it.
Emmett is just thinking about kicking Jasper’s ass which, I feel, is a goal everyone should aspire to because Jasper’s thoughts...
And Jasper was… suffering.
GOOD
Alice mentally calls his name and Edward is kind enough to let us know that it’s just the same as if someone said it out loud... you know, because we’re too dumb to work that out ourselves.
Also, he is so thankful that the name EDWARD has ‘fallen out of style’ in the last few decades.
Alice is worried about Jasper slaughtering everybody within a ten-mile radius because he’s become a literal statue (because Meyerpires are made of stone and this is in no way a ripoff of Anne Rice) and, stupidly, she asks Edward how he’s doing...
I guess Alice forgot she could, you know, SEE INTO THE FUTURE. Because checking to see if your boyfriend is about to go on a murder spree is a telepathy situation.
She relaxed. Let me know if it gets too bad.
I moved only my eyes, up to the ceiling above, and back down.
Thanks for doing this.
YOU CAN SEE THE GOD DAMN FUTURE!
Was it really necessary to experiment this way? Wouldn’t the safer path be to just admit that he might never be able to handle his thirst as well as the rest of us could, and not push his limits? Why flirt with disaster?
YES! WHY?!
For a group of vampires that don’t want to kill humans, so we’re told, they certainly don’t give a fuck if they kill humans.
It had been two weeks since our last hunting trip. That was not an immensely difficult time span for the rest of us. A little uncomfortable occasionally—if a human walked too close, if the wind blew the wrong way. But humans rarely walked too close. Their instincts told them what their conscious minds would never understand: We were a danger that must be avoided.
So... which is it?
Edward thinks about how oblivious the humans around them are and how they avoid the ‘odd-looking’ group.
Okay, if I had to guess, the avoidance has more to do with how fucking weird you are. A group of five incredibly attractive (And yet odd-looking? Sure Meyer) teenagers sitting by themselves with full trays of food that they don’t eat, all while wearing designer clothing. They don’t talk to each other, they barely even look at each other...
That’s fucking weird. THEY’RE WEIRD.
Meyer: They’re either so attractive as to lure their prey in for the kill or they’re so inhuman looking that no one wants to go near them. It can’t be both.
Anyway, a girl walks by and Edward starts frothing at the mouth while he and Jasper get a vampire erection over Jasper imagining MURDERING AN INNOCENT GIRL.
Also, calling her a ‘little girl’ is very creepy in an entirely different way. Just sayin’.
Edward snaps Jasper out of it and Alice lies and says he wasn’t going to slaughter an innocent human being in the middle of the cafeteria.
We had to stick together, Alice and I. It wasn’t easy, being the freaks among those who were already freaks.
Shut the ever-loving-fuck up.
And Alice, ever-so-helpfully, reminds Jasper to think of humans as people... because, you know, they aren’t really. Not compared to vampires anyway.
Someone mentally says the name ‘Edward’ so Edward turns to them as though they had actually called his name. Only it was in his head, not in real life. In case you didn’t catch that. That Edward is telepathic... so he hears thoughts as though they were being spoken to him. That’s why he looked over when someone thought his name.
In case you didn’t understand what was going on.
This is the first time Edward sees Bella and... he gives no fucks. But wait! Turns out it was Jessica Stanley thinking about him, not Bella!
In fact, Jessica thinks Bella is already crushing on all the Cullens.
Good for you, Jessica, not assuming Bella is only after the undead D. Rosalie/Bella shippers thank you.
Edward is relieved Jessica got over her fixation on him (because it’s totally normal for teenager girls to crush on weird-looking weirdos). He then goes on to show he has no idea how teenage girls (or adult women for that matter) work:
What a relief it had been when she’d gotten over her misplaced fixation. It used to be nearly impossible to escape her constant, ridiculous daydreams. I’d wished, at the time, that I could explain to her exactly what would have happened if my lips, and the teeth behind them, had gotten anywhere near her. That would have silenced those annoying fantasies.
That is the exact fantasy most TwiHards were having.
Jessica complains that she doesn’t see why all the boys are looking at Bella, thinking she’s ‘not even pretty’. I know this is supposed to make Jessica unlikable but, you know what? That is a very wounded teenage thought process. It’s immature and turning the blame somewhere else but that’s teenagers in a nutshell.
Edward comments on Jessica’s new obsession with Mike Newton – creepily calling him a child.
There is the implication that Jessica’s not a nice person because she’s being outwardly nice to Bella while bad-mouthing her mentally and... that’s such a Christian mentality: the idea that your thoughts matter as much as your actions. Just putting that out there because, clearly, we can see what Meyer’s opinion on that is… as long as it’s one of the Cullens or Bella doing the thinking, it’s fine! In Twilight, Bella was putting down everyone who looked at her until the hideously beautiful Edward was so mean to her.
No, I didn’t forget that shit.
Jessica continues being a teenager girl, hoping that with Bella’s ever-shining light of beauty shining beside her that maybe Senpai Mike will notice her.
And, of course, Edward is an asshole because he’s upset that a teenager girl has teenage thoughts.
He tells Emmett what’s going down with the new girl and tries to listen in on Bella’s thoughts to see what she thinks about all this.
And, because Bella doesn’t actually have thoughts, all Edward hears in the unending howling void.
Edward tells us he has to use his powers to protect his family! He has to listen to everyone’s thoughts in case anyone gets suspicious about the beautiful/weird/attractive/repulsive family in their midst.
I feel like that would be easier if Edward didn’t actively try to ignore everyone.
But sometimes people get it right and the Cullens have to disappear before... I don’t know. Meyerpires are indestructible by humans to the point that they can outrun nuclear bombs. The Vultori might come whine at them for exposing the secret but by that point, the Cullens disappearing would just draw even more attention.
Edward tries to listen to the new girl but gets nothing. He turns to check and all he can see is the brown-void eyes of Bella.
There’s also a bit in there where Edward wonders if Bella is still sitting there because she must be since Jessica is still talking. He turns and sees Bella still sitting there because of course she is, because Jessica is still talking to her. You see, Bella was still there and Edward suspected as much as Jessica was still talking to her because she was still sitting there.
He gets another hard-on as Bella blushes. He comments that she “looked surprised” as she “unknowingly absorbed the signs of subtle differences between her kind and mine.”
Bitch, you don’t know that. You can’t read her fucking thoughts. You’re just assuming this bullshit. This is some of what I remember from skimming the first Midnight Sun. You just make up shit about her personality to suit what you want! Reality is completely optional.
And we get this:
[...] as she listened to Jessica’s tale; and something more… Fascination? It wouldn’t be the first time. We were beautiful to them, our intended prey.
You know, the hyper attractiveness that turns people away because of how odd-looking they are but also draws people to them while also making people avoid them because they’re so inhuman.
And yet, though her thoughts had been so clear in her odd eyes—odd because of the depth to them—I could hear only silence from the place she was sitting. Just… silence.
Yes, because she’s the void personified.
Try and keep up.
Edward decides that he’s just not trying hard enough and stops blocking out all the teenager chatter – you know, the chatter he constantly listens to to ensure the safety of his family? That chatter.
Also, shout out to Ashley Dowling for obviously having a crush on Bella.
Angela Weber is the only one not thinking about Bella. I’m sure Meyer’s just trying to show how ‘unusually kind’ she is but... acting like a completely normal person doesn’t really qualify as being ‘unusually kind’.
Then Meyer, again, tries too hard to make Jessica unlikable by having her mentally calling Bella an idiot for asking about Edward Cullen. But since Bella is an idiot...
We get the infamous “He’s gorgeous, obviously.” line even though all of student body finds the Cullens odd-looking and want nothing to do with them.
And Edward gets this strong impulse to protect Bella from Jessica’s nefarious plots to... get mildly more popular for the short time people care that there’s a new student at school. He describes how fragile Bella looks and how translucent her skin is...
Then we get this little gem where Meyer, apparently, forgot Edward can’t read Bella’s mind while describing things he’d only know if he could read her mind.
It was unbelievably frustrating! I could easily see that it was a strain for her to sit there, to make conversation with strangers, to be the center of attention. I could sense her shyness from the way she held her frail-looking shoulders, slightly hunched, as if she was expecting a rebuff at any moment.
This is a one-way street, Meyer. Edward has to stay his ass in his own lane.
Edward informs us that, despite not being able to hear Bella’s thoughts, he’s not going to let himself get too interest in them just because they’re hidden from him... then immediately says he’s going to find out what she thinks no matter what it takes. No matter how petty, trivial, self-absorbed, whiny, and shallow they are! He will find out!
Emmett interrupts Edward’s obliviousness to his own faults and asks if Bella is afraid of them yet.
“They sit by themselves, never talk to anyone, and stare at the wall.” Absolutely terrifying.
Lunch is over and the Cullens to go their classes. Edward is an asshole prepared to be bored because he’s so much smarter than the biology teacher.
He also tells us the reason he has a table to himself is because everyone is avoiding him and they were too stupid to know why. Yes, that is the word he uses.
Such a Prince Charming, isn’t he?
Again, Edward laments his inability to sleep when Angela leads Bella into class! Then Edward remembers he was totally thinking about Bella just now and not wishing he was asleep!
Also, Angela? Shut up.
The Void comes in and Edward still can’t hear her and, in one of the few moments I like, he worries that he’s losing his gift. Don’t worry, nothing comes out of that thought.
Edward notes that the only available seat is beside him so he clears a bit of room for her, feeling sorry that she’s doomed to spend so much time next to his hideousness. BUT THEN!
Bella Swan walked into the flow of heated air that blew toward me from the vent.
Her scent hit me like a battering ram, like an exploding grenade. There was no image violent enough to encompass the force of what happened to me in that moment.
Now comes a page long description of Edward losing his shit. He tells us, multiple times, how much he wants to eat her, how he’ll have to get rid of the witnesses, blah blah blah. It’s basically the same paragraph repeated a few times... But you know what? It’s better than the whiny shit we’ve been getting and it’s nice to actually see the ‘good’ vampires struggle in a not completely idiotic way... so I ain’t that mad at it.
I was actually enjoying it a bit until Meyer stuck her dumb in my chocolate by having Edward rip a bit of wood off the desk. Like no one would have heard that. Or wonder why there’s a pile of sawdust under Edward’s desk.
Edward... I know that you’re far older than anyone in that room but... calling people children is just fucking creepy. Stop.
He calculates the best way to slurp Bella up and kill witnesses in the most efficient way (interrupted occasionally by an eye-roll worthy melodramatic thought about murdering innocents). I would like this if it wasn’t such a stark reminder of how Edward doesn’t actually give two fucks about humans – he just doesn’t want to disappoint his Not-Dad... who, from what we’ve seen in the guide (shudder) doesn’t really seem to care either as long as he’s not the one doing the murdering. They don’t kill people not because they care or want to protect them but because Dad said not to.
Bella sits down beside him (And he’s absolutely sure she’s terrified of him though she’s shown no sign of that and HE CAN’T READ HER THOUGHTS.)
Anyway, he whines that now he has to kill her for existing.
This is another little plothole that bothers me: he doesn’t have to stay in the classroom. He can ask to be excused, say he’s feeling sick or he has to use the bathroom. Yeah, it would draw a few moments of attention but, you know, IT’S BETTER THAN PLOTTING THE MURDER OF THIRTY PEOPLE.
Meyer decides to call me out on that thought and claims:
Every life in this room was in danger while she and I were in it together. I should run. I wanted to run, to get away from the heat of her next to me, and the punishing pain of the burning, but I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that if I unlocked my muscles to move, even just to stand, I wouldn’t lash out and commit the slaughter I’d already planned.
Fuck you, he only needs to resist for the half-a-dozen seconds it’d take to get out of the room. But no, he’d rather try and resist for an hour instead.
He, again, talks about Bella’s skin and calls it ‘See-through’.
Sexy
Edward’s becomes increasingly paranoid that Bella’s ‘trying to hide her secrets from him’.
Chillax, Eddie. She ain’t that deep.
He changes tactics. He’ll try to get her alone and his plan for this is flawless!
If he asks to walk her to her next class, she has to be polite and say yes! Even though he’s certain she’s terrified of him (because he completely fails at reading human reactions if he can’t read their minds), she’ll have to do the polite thing! Because reasons!
While he doesn’t realize how stupid that is, he does notice that everyone with an interest in ladies is already obsessing over Ms. Swan so people will probably notice him leading her away like the serial killer he is.
So he plots to wait until she gets home to murder her.
And you guys, he just hates her so much! I mean, he hates himself but he hates her for making him hate himself but also her because she exists but also himself but also her but also himself...
And apparently that was his entire thought process for the next hour because class is suddenly over!
Edward runs out of the room – you know, the thing he said he couldn’t do before because even just moving might prompt him to murder everything – and mopes in his car where he realizes that ‘Wait... I don’t have to do the thing’.
He wonders why Alice didn’t break their cover and draw attention to themselves by barging into Edward’s class to help him get rid of either his murder-boner or the bodies caused by his murder-boner. He decides that she’s focusing on making sure Jasper doesn’t get a murder-boner and she’s concentrating ‘vary’ hard on that.
(Is pointing out typos a bit too petty? Maybe but I did it.)
And Edward feels a new burn coursing through his body! The burn of SHAME!
(I'm glad I got to use this Gif so early on!)
I should say that, through out all of this, Edward’s been going on about his little monster (not that one) growling around his head but all I can imagine are the critters from Critters Attack:
He decides to just avoid Bella as much as possible while being in the same building as her and goes to try and change his classes halfway through the semester.
He startles Mrs. Cope by being so vampirey, though humans are too stupid to notice that, because he came in quietly while she wasn’t paying attention. Her panties are immediately soaked at the sight of teenage boy bod (ew) and asks how she could help him. Eddie lays it on thick because... I don’t know. I’m pretty sure she’s not in charge of the classes, so there’s no reason for him to make her flood the office like this...
Even he’s uncomfortable but he still does it. Gross.
Also, statistically, women prefer men close to their own age or slightly older, so...
We get a whole paragraph of Mrs. Cope thinking of how smart and perfect the Cullens are – actually thinking the line ‘Perfect Cullen’.
When she says that he can’t change or drop the class, he tries to stare her into submission, lamenting that his eyes aren’t gold but the terrifying black instead.
Uh... dark dark brown, almost black eyes are pretty common and can be very alluring. Have you forgotten Ben Barnes exists?! Here, I'll remind you:
I’d be more freaked out by the gold.
Bella, of course, interrupts this awkward seduction and sends Edward running with his tail between his legs. He passes by some random guy in the parking lot and, since Edward is so all important, the guy wonders where Edward came from and, instead of deciding he must not have noticed him before (Like a normal person not in a SMeyer book would do) he decides his imagination is getting the better of him.
Edward makes it to the Volvo where the others are waiting. He takes off like a bat out of hell (lawl) and in a moment of stupid where Meyer, once again, forgets how her characters's powers work:
She looked ahead for me now. We both processed what she saw in her head, and we were both surprised.
“You’re leaving?” she whispered.
You see... Alice’s visions are based on people’s decisions... Edward didn’t know he was leaving until he saw that Alice saw he was leaving... which makes no sense in the context of what we’ve been given.
And so, after a moment of Edward thinking about killing Bella, he decides to flee the entire country.
And that’s the end of chapter one! It took me way longer than I expected and I used 74 tabs... This is going to be an experience and a half...
Until next time, I'm out!
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lost my discretion
cough ow this is really bad but here’s chp 4 to my shit saiki k x reader
tw for mentions of kidnapping
chapter two | chapter three | wattpad link
"S-Saiki..?" (L/n) asks, shakily as she sits on the ground behind the boy. He had suddenly appeared out of thin air, separating the girl and the body in front of Saiki. "Wh-wha...h-how did you..?"
He had teleported, obviously, but the weeping girl behind him didn't necessarily understand. Saiki cursed himself under his breath. There wasn't any way to get out of this one.
Saiki sighed in frustration. It was a simple Saturday morning, but something was annoying. He had had the same stupid prophetic dream and headache ever since the night where (L/n) had walked him home. It was weird, and why he had been assuming his powers were off lately, because usually there was't that much of a gap between when his dreams happened and, well, when it actually happened. The volcano- as much as he hated to think about it- didn't count really, it was only so long ago because he had rewound the Earth fuck knows how many times.
The answer was 6. But, we don't talk about that.
He had no choice but to shake it off as his mother called him down for breakfast. Walking down the stairs he tried his best to clear his mind, sitting at the table and ignoring the idle chatter his mother and father started.
(L/n) was a strange girl. Everything about her seemed contradictory. She was average, yet unique in a way that seemed to keep Saiki guessing, somehow- it felt like there were parts of her unknown. Which was odd, since, he could literally read her mind. Hell, even from where he sat now, if he tried hard enough he could hear her thoughts.
Or, well, dreams. She liked to sleep in.
Regardless, that wasn't all. She carried herself as if she was nothing special- and even then acknowledged by some very wrong people as such- but she was talented and beautiful. An average girl who was unique. Part of Saiki supposed everyone was like that, really. Another part of him supposed there was something different. Other than that that hid within her that he was curious of.
Very rarely was Saiki curious. Very rarely did people manage to hide things from Saiki Kusuo.
Of course, there were things like Nendo, and bugs, that were completely unreadable. But you were complex. He heard your thoughts, yes, but you never turned to stone without his glasses and his x-ray vision never worked on you. It was, well, confusing. Emotions that Saiki didn't necessarily understand.
"Ku, are you alright? You haven't touched your food..." Saiki's mother, Kurumi, fretted.
Saiki blinked for a second. He had zoned out. "Yes... I'm fine.." He sighs, finally picking up his spoon and digging into his coffee jelly. Who needed anything else? Coffee jelly makes all your problems go away.
What? Don't look at him like that. You're reading an x reader fanfiction. He can use coffee jelly as a stress coping mechanism all he wants.
Kurumi looks at his doubtfully before sighing. 'I really do hope he's okay..' Her thoughts echoed. Saiki sighed, finishing his food and excusing himself from the table, walking back up to his room.
He figured he'd read a book. Play that one game he never finished. Something enjoyable. he doesn't want to waste a perfectly fine Saturday fretting about nothing.
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As you woke up slowly, you heard your phone vibrate on the stand next to your bed. You sighed. Who wanted what this early in the morning..? You rubbed your eyes with one hand and grabbed the phone with the other.
Oh. It's 1pm. It's not that early. You just really, really like sleep. You unlock your phone, which is an unholy level of bright, to find a text from an unfamiliar number
???
Heey! I got your number from Chiopipi.
...Who, got it from Teryukoko.. ehhe..
(Y/n)
..uh.. who's this??
???
Oh, sorry! It's Aiura Mikoto.
I'm in ur class?? lol
(Y/n)
oh! you're the gyaru with the crystal ball right??
Aiura Mikoto
That's me! haha
Teryukoko was planning to have all us girls hang at her house tmrw
Her brother's gonna be out of town and her parents are off on some business trip
So it's just us
You in???
(Y/n)
..yeah sure why not
Aiura Mikoto
Lit!!! I'll text you the details tmrw
Read, 1:32pm
.
You set your phone down on your bedside table again and sighed. Well, that was your plans for tomorrow. But you had absolutely nothing to do today. You eyed your bag in the corner of the room.
Nope. Absolutely nothing. Nada. None.
You swung your legs over your bed and sat up, head dizzying and vision blurring momentarily from the swiftness of the motion. You sighed, standing and walking off..you had to take care of yourself, for once. Get dressed, brush your hair, your teeth, blah blah... you get the point.
The day goes by slowly, a steady day of jamming to your tunes and doing work. And totally not watching Netflix. Nope. But eventually the steadily changing light of the sun setting begins to noticeably change the lighting of your living room until the sun is still barely left straddling the horizon.
You stare out the window until you turn, grabbing your shoes and hoodie, slipping them on and grabbing your keys and phone as you leave your apartment, locking it behind you. You weren't sure why.. but something told you to go outside. Take a walk. Vibe in the loneliness of the playground. You'd be fine, I mean, Japan has an awfully low crime rate, doesn't it?
Yeah.. It does.. you remember your mother hovering over your shoulder as you researched the country while still in America. Your father nonchalant about the decision but inside he cared. A lot. His baby would move across the world. Your sister, jealous but proud. You were always the smarter of the two. She was an adrenaline junkie who valued smarts last.
Walking along the empty and quiet streets oddly reminded you of her. She was a type of girl who would run down these streets screaming for some demon to come eat her ass while you laughed in disappointment behind her. Sometimes, if you close your eyes hard enough..
Sometimes you could see her running.
Sometimes, when you closed your eyes, you saw the day you lost them instead. It's hard to shake.. your bruised and broken sister holding your hand in a hospital bed as heart dropped and the doctors came in like a SWAT team.
It was really hard to shake that thought away from your head.
You had lost your family a while ago now. Just before you started your first year at PK Academy. See, the original plan was you were going to study at PK and live in Japan while your family in America dealt with most expenses. When they died, there was a new plan offered, mainly out of sympathy. Your living situation was paid by the school as you attended. As long as you kept your grades high, they would pay. Once you were out of PK Academy, then you're on your own.
You shook the thought from your head- or at least tried- as you arrived at your destination, the playground. You kicked rocks littered around under the light of the light post that's near. You're not really sure why you came here. Nostalgia? Wanting to vibe? Bored? Who knew.
It's when you're staring up at the cloudy night sky you feel a tight grip on your wrist, causing you to nearly scream before snapping around. It's a man, obviously older than you, accompanied by his friend, grinning happily.
"Hey, you lost, girlie?" He asks, curiously. You shake your head furiously, mind racing. You did not want to die. Nor get kidnapped. Or anything else like that. "What are you doing out here all alone? It's late, you know."
You don't respond. His grip tightens, and you know it's going to leave a mark. "Let me go."
"You didn't answer my question." His face falls. His buddy behind him pulls up his hood, obscuring his already shadowy face. You feel yourself tremble, and when you look down, you see your fingers shaking like an earthquake tremor.
"I don't have to." You argue, tugging against his grip. "Let me go." You keep a stern face but you're panicking. You want to scream. Cry. You tell yourself you're stronger than this- hell, you work out with fucking Hairo sometimes, of all people, and everything is telling you to knee this man straight where the sun doesn't shine and run away but the fear has you rooted still.
There's a second, where he's going to say something back, and you feel him start to raise your arm up so he can tug you closer, but it stops when a certain force appears suddenly between you and the man, plus his friend, knocking you away and promptly letting you fall on your ass. Ouchie.
You stare up at the object and when you recognize the stature, the bright pink hair, and weird hairpins, you realize it's Saiki. "S-Saiki..?" You ask, staring up at him. "Wh-wha...h-how did you..?"
He turns his head back towards the two men, both as shocked as you are. "Close your eyes." He tells you, and you can't tell if it's soft or stern. A wavering mix of both. You listen to him, and when you're given the signal to open them, both men are gone.
"Whe-"
"Don't ask." He spins his body to you and holds out a hand. You shakily take it, and he pulls you to your feet effortlessly. You're shaking so much you can't help but fall forwards to his chest and he lets you, letting you rest for a second.
"..Thank you.." You mutter.
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You sat on the swing, swinging your legs quietly. Saiki had pulled you out of his chest and when he was going to say something you asked that he didn't- that he just stayed with you here. You knew it was nonsensical, asking to stay, but you felt safer when he was with you all of a sudden. Your phone lay under your feet softly playing music and Saiki sat on the swing next to you. It was quiet- a kind of quiet where you couldn't decipher comfort or a still, awkward feeling.
You hesitate, briefly. "How did you...?" The question drifts, before you clear your throat, trying again. "How did you just appear out of nowhere?"
Saiki doesn't respond. He sat still as a statue on his swing, compared to yours, drifting back and fourth slowly, the occasional creek of the swing an undecipherable melody. It's a minute before you speak again.
"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to." You look away from him and kick your feet at the ground. "..How did you know to come?"
A moment of hesitation follows, before all you hear is a quiet "precognition." It's not part of an unheard sentence, and he won't add anything more, you can tell- it's all he's willing to momentarily share. You accept the answer, humming along to your phone- quietly letting unfamiliar songs drift from the phone. He stands, suddenly, the chain of the swing jingling as the weight leaves.
"I'll take you home." He says, offering a hand. "It's late."
"It can't be.. that late." You look up at him.
"It's 2am." He argues. You sigh and hang your head, muttering an apology as you pick up your phone.
You place your hand in his, and this time it feels different. Tender and understanding, but somewhere you know he's upset that you nearly got yourself killed. You blink, and you're in your apartment, with a nauseating feeling. What the fu-
"Goodnight, (L/n)."
You hesitate. "..'night, Saiki."
He dissapears.
For a fleeting moment, your day feels like a blurry dream- you stare at your hand, steadily counting a precise 5 fingers. You're awake. You're tired, and crave your bed, but you're awake.
The pitter-patter of your feet is all you hear in your quiet apartment before you kick closed the door to your bedroom. It was late now, and if you'd ever fall asleep was a gamble.
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#saiki kusuo no psi nan#saiki k#saiki k x reader#i hate this chapter so much#and i was looking forward to writing it#for a while#and it's just. blegh#my writing#saiki kusuo#averagely unique
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Deviating Love Affair - Part 2
PART 1
Soulmate AU with DBH Connor
Pair: Connor x Female! Reader
Prompt: In this universe, you are supposed to receive a tattoo of your soulmate’s name on your 18th birthday. However, you being the lucky winner, never received one on that special day. After years go by, you began to accept the fact that maybe you were never destined to have a soulmate until one day, on August 5th, 2038, you see a certain individual’s name gets written on your wrist. Not only is it odd that your soulmate tattoo wasn’t given to you on your 18th birthday but that in reality, your soulmate isn’t even human.
Word Count: 1749 words
A/N: Hi friends! I’m back with another part! Just an FYI, I skipped through “The Nest” chapter since I didn’t think it really fit with how I wanted the characters to develop so we are just going to pretend that never happened. I’ve also skipped through some other chapters from the game that I thought were too boring and I really don’t want to bore you guys. This part and the next one are going to be kind of slow but I swear it will pick up a little....hopefully...I don’t know.
Feedback is always appreciated and I know this part sucked so nitpick all you want! (I need it because writing is really not my strong suit).
Connor was facing a dilemma. He knew what his purpose was, how he was supposed to hunt deviants and search for their source of deviancy. He also knew that he was a machine, a machine who was not supposed to feel emotions or disobey his master. However, the moment he met you, everything seemed to change within him. He no longer truly knew what he was or how he was supposed to act. For the first time ever, he did not know what to do.
Connor opened his eyes and was met with the sight of the peaceful Zen Garden. The words, “Talk to Amanda” appeared at the corner of his eye. Connor looked around the area before landing on Amanda’s figure standing on the center island by a wall of roses. He slowly made the walk to her while trying to formulate proper sentences which would not upset her nor make him lose her trust.
Once Connor had reached a comfortable speaking distance from her, he introduced himself, “Hello Amanda.”
Amanda looked over her shoulder before replying, “Connor, it’s good to see you.”
Amanda smiled at him before snipping off a flower in front of her. She proceeded to congratulate Connor on successfully locating the deviant as well as properly extracting a confession. She also praised Connor for his achievements while also asking a series of questions of what he has discovered along the way.
Amanda paused for a moment as she sprayed her flowers with water. Connor had hoped that their conversation would be over so he wouldn’t have to face any more of her questioning, especially ones involving you.
“Both Lieutenant Anderson and Officer (Y/L/N) have been assigned to the deviancy cases. What do you make of them?”
Connor paused for a moment, carefully thinking of what to say. “Lieutenant Anderson seems a bit dysfunctional. He clearly has some personal issues which impact his professional behavior. He also seems to want to have nothing to do with this investigation or Androids overall.”
“Unfortunately, we have no other choice but to work with him,” she replied, “What about the other?”
Connor paused once more, but this time, he was taking more time to properly say what he wanted to say without upsetting Amanda. But what could he say? He couldn’t tell her that he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since last night or that the image of your smile was engraved in his mind. After careful thought, Connor spoke again, “She seems to be very invested in her work, unlike her coworker. However, she also seems to be troubled by something, more troubled the moment I introduced myself to her. Overall, she’s a very intriguing character and I wish to learn more about her.”
Amanda stopped what she was doing and slowly turned around to face Connor. “More and more androids are showing signs of deviancy. If they are not stopped, destruction and chaos will occur. You are the only one who can stop this outcome. There are no room for...distractions,” she ended, clearly referencing Connor’s description of you.
Connor nodded as he watched Amanda walk away.
You anxiously tapped your fingers on your thigh as you sat on your couch. You kept glancing over at your phone which sat face down on the coffee table, taunting you with its presence. You were eager to call Hank and talk to him about the events of last night and what it had felt like to meet Connor; however, you were worried about how he would react which kept you from making the call.
After a few more minutes of you contemplating whether or not to bother your easily-annoyed coworker, you picked up the phone and pressed the dial button on his profile.
“Hello?” Hank asked.
“Do you think, and I’m asking out of full curiosity, it’s possible for someone’s soulmate to be an android?” you asked without warning.
“What?” Hank asked.
“Do you think it’s possible for someone’s soulmate to be an android?”
“Hell no, Androids aren’t alive; they aren’t meant to have soulmates. Wait, why are you even asking this?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable with your question.
“Think about it Hank, my tattoo says Connor, my soulmate tattoo says Connor. The next Connor I meet just happens to be an Android detective working with us, this has to mean something.”
“Oh hell no, you don’t actually think that that plastic cop is your soulmate do you?”
“Just hear me out Hank,” you replied.
“Look kiddo, I don’t have time for this,” he said as he threatened to end the call.
“Hank!” you exclaimed, stopping him from doing so, “just listen.”
You heard Hank sigh through the phone before he replied, “Continue.”
“Last night, when I met Connor, it wasn’t like I was just meeting another Android, it was like I was meeting another human being. And, I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking about him, how he acts, how he talks. It’s like I’m a teenager all over again experiencing a first crush or something and it’s driving me insane. Last night was the first time I’ve felt like that with anyone in a very long time and I can’t just ignore it,” you said.
Hank stayed silent for a couple of seconds as he processed everything that you had just said. “Please say something,” you begged, worried of what Hank might think.
“I don’t buy it,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think the universe made you wait this long for a fucking Android. You deserve better than that,” he replied.
Before you could object, Hank had already ended your call, clearly thinking that you were delusional. You leaned your head back against your seat while running your fingers through your hair in frustration. Maybe you were crazy and maybe you were in over your head; however, nothing else could explain these rush of feelings from the night before.
The next time you ran into Connor was later that night when you heard someone knock on the front door to your apartment. You carefully put down your cup of tea before getting up from your seat to answer the door. You truly did not expect to see Connor standing at your door.
“Hi Connor,” you said with a bit of surprise, “What’s up?”
Connor looked at you up and down for a split second, noticing how you had on black rimmed glasses for a -1.00 prescription and you were wearing comfortable loungewear.
“Hello Officer, sorry to bother you so late. I have just received word of another deviancy case just downtown and wanted to inform you. I also thought it would be better if you were with me before I talked to Lieutenant Anderson.”
You smiled and nodded before replying, “Come in, just give me five minutes.”
You took a few steps back, opening the door wider, allowing Connor to walk in. Connor looked around your home thinking to himself that it was very cozy and comfortable for one person (maybe even two).
“I’ll be right back, but make yourself at home,” you said before retreating to your bedroom to get dressed.
Connor took this opportunity to learn more about you, in hopes to better his relationship with you. The first thing that caught his eye was the lonesome white mug on your island which was still steaming. Connor took a second to analyze the contents of the cup. He noticed that you had brewed a cup of tea, assuming it was your favorite, with exactly 15 grams of sugar.
Connor exited your kitchen and came across a photo album which sat in the middle of your coffee table. He picked up the book and noticed a photo of you and Hank with the words, “Happy Birthday” engraved on its cover.
Connor opened the book and flipped through the photos of you and your presumed close friends at the DPD and various locations in Detroit, all of which had you in mid laughter or with a huge smile on your face. Connor found your smile so charming and genuine. He lightly traced the outline of your face with his fingertips, the edges of his mouth turning slightly upwards. He was so captivated by your photo that he failed to notice you had already left your room and was standing next to him.
“What are you looking at?” you asked as you tried to tame the stray hairs on your head and pull them in a proper ponytail.
“I was-I was just looking at your photo album,” Connor said, somewhat startled by your presence.
You laughed slightly before placing your hand on his shoulder, “Sorry for scaring you.”
Connor quickly glanced at your hand, the warmth of your fingers seemed to burn through his skin.
“Do you want to see something funny?” you asked, snapping Connor out of his thoughts.
Connor nodded slightly before handing the photo album to you. You quickly flipped to a certain page of the album and pointed at a picture of you and Hank. Connor studied the picture for a bit, trying to understand the situation.
“Is that Lieutenant Anderson,” he paused, “in a crab costume?”
You laughed inwardly before replying, “Yes, yes it is. This picture was taken on Halloween and we made a bet the night before. Basically, if the Detroit Gears beat the Boston Celtics, I would have to wear a ridiculous costume of his choice; however, if the Celtics won, Hank would have to wear a crab costume. Guess who won,” you said in between laughs.
Although Connor did find Hank’s appearance to be very entertaining, he was completely drawn to your laugh. The pictures he had seen in your booklet did not truly capture the beauty of your smile. The way your eyes crinkled up, how your eyes literally lit up, and how the sound of your laugh was very pleasant to listen to, almost like a melody. Your laughter made Connor begin to smile and for the first time, he had experienced genuine happiness.
SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^
“Anyways,” you said before your eyes met with Connor’s.
You both froze for a brief second getting lost in each other's eyes. After a few seconds, you shook your head slightly and cleared your throat, breaking the silence between the two of you. You closed the photo album in your hand and placed it back in its original position.
“Ready to go?” you asked Connor.
Connor nodded before following you out of your apartment and into the cold night air of Detroit.
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Contrition: Chapter 1
Pairing: Chase Collins x Female!Witch!Reader
Summary: As a Hedge Witch, you usually keep to yourself, performing odd jobs here and there for superstitious (and wealthy) people to exercise demons or expel ghosts or whatever. Sometimes this means just reading out of your book for a half an hour to give the customer peace of mind. Other times it means accidentally materializing a murderous warlock back into the physical plane.
Warnings: Swearing (always), mentions of murder and death, struggles with addiction
Word Count: ~5,122
A/N: AU where the events of The Covenant happened in 2011. Series is already completely written, so I’ll be releasing chapter at set intervals (One chapter every 3 days, so the next will be out the 18th at 4 pm EST and so on).
Masterlist // Next Chapter
You hated Ipswich. Hated the Sons of Ipswich and the way they used magic. The town was boring, but the people were superstitious (dating all the way back to the age of witch hunts), which meant you’d get jobs there on occasion.
So when you got a job from someone complaining about an old, haunted farmhouse, you groaned. It was more than likely one of the Sons playing pranks on the unsuspecting, naive townsfolk, but money was money so you packed up your tomes and reagents and drove partway across the country.
On the off chance it was an actual haunting, you brought salt, iron, and enough herbs for a bevvy of smudge sticks.
The drive wasn’t particularly intriguing and you went through at least ten CDs on the trip (you cursed being in the middle of nowhere where not even radio signals could reach). Your GPS crapped out the closer you got to the town until you eventually had to start actually reading street signs.
“Stupid-fucking-middle-of-nowhere-hick-town,” you muttered bitterly.
You were so focused on trying to find the road you needed that you nearly drove straight into a man who was crossing the street.
Well, “man” was perhaps a bit too generous. He couldn’t be older than thirty and was one of the damn SOIs.
You had half a mind to plow through him just to make him use magic, but slammed your foot on the break at the last second. You glared at him as he walked over to the driver’s side window, nearly retching at the smell of degenerative magic wafting off him.
“The hell do you want, SOI?” you asked, having half a mind to just drive away.
He frowned down at you, confusion lining his features. His dark brown eyes scanned the inside of your car and you had half a mind to hex him just for that. “You almost ran me over with your car and now you’re calling me a bean plant?” he asked, swagger making you want to punch him in his stupid face.
“S.O.I.,” you said with barely-contained annoyance. “Son of Ipswich.”
His face darkened as he stared down at you, posture suddenly tense. “I know we’re kinda well-known around here, but how could you tell I’m a Son of Ipswich from just a glance?” he asked, smile tight.
You rolled your eyes. “Please, I could smell your consuming magic from miles away.”
He stood straighter and your hairs stood on end as he gathered his powers, preparing to fight you, but you were already waving him away.
“I ain’t here for you, SOI. I’m not here to cause trouble. Just got called for a job,” you said disinterestedly. “You gonna leave the me hell alone or are we gonna have a problem?”
He stared at you for a moment longer before relaxing ever so slightly. “I’m going to tell the others about you. Don’t be surprised if one of them drops in on you later.”
You glared up at him, hand reaching for one of your wards, just in case. “If one of you ruins my cleansing we’re gonna have issues.”
He smirked at that. “I get it now. You’re a hedge witch.”
You bristled at his tone. How dare he, with his necrotic, draining magic, judge you? You’d live ten of his lifetimes, existing more nobly than he ever could.
You bit back a plethora of curses and instead smiled in a manner you hoped was disarming. “I’m going to say this once, and only once: Leave me to my own devices while I’m in Ipswich and we won’t have any issues. Cross me while I’m working and you’ll live to regret it.”
He seemed to regard you for a moment before extending his hand. You flinched away from it, hand tightening on your ward, before you realized he meant to shake your hand.
“The name’s Caleb Danvers,” he said when you still hadn’t moved to take his hand.
You narrowed your eyes at him. “I know that name. You ascended a few years ago. Blasted the Fifth into oblivion.”
He looked suddenly sheepish and perhaps a bit nervous, which was odd for a man of his stature and power. “Yeah, that’s me. Nice to know my reputation precedes me.”
You leaned back into your seat, unimpressed, flat stare boring holes through his skull.
He sighed. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. It was wrong of me to test you like that. I could tell you were different but I couldn’t tell how. Let me make it up to you by making sure Pogue, Reid, and Tyler stay out of your hair while you’re in town?” he asked, all toothy smiles.
You scoffed. “Nah, let em bother me. I’ll send ‘em back as toads, just to amuse myself,” you said, perhaps a bit too spitefully.
Caleb let out a deep sigh. “I can tell I’m not going to win you over. Just... good luck with whatever you’re doing, alright?”
You glared at him. “I don’t need luck, Son of Ipswich. Keep it, because you need it more than I ever will.”
And without saying another word to him you shifted your car into gear and resumed your search.
A barn. Your client- a frazzled middle aged woman whose name you couldn’t be fucked to remember- wanted you to cleanse a barn. She’d apparently bought the land recently and while she was trying to clean up the barn, a few strange occurrences had her questioning her sanity. Scared, confused, and superstitious, her search for someone who could remedy the supernatural led her to you.
She refused to go anywhere near the property until you were done so you made the trip down the pothole ridden one-lane dirt road in your Jeep by yourself.
The barn was really more of an open field where a barn had once stood. A few support beams still existed, but it was clear from a glance a fire had destroyed most of the original building. You had to watch your footing as you clambered through the tall grass with books and reagents in-hand, as old farm tools (some of which still looked dangerously sharp) were strewn about.
As soon as you got close, an uneasy feeling settled at the base of your spine, which immediately made you pay more attention to your surroundings. You’d learned long ago to listen to your senses, and right now they were telling you there was something dangerous nearby.
It seemed the lady wasn’t completely paranoid, after all. You’d have to work for your paycheck today.
You set your tomes down and grabbed the small white-wood bowl that was black on the inside from previous smudge sticks. You pulled a smudge stick from your coat pocket and lit it with a snap of your fingers.
You walked forward, waving it slowly, expecting some of the negative energy to dissipate, but it only seemed to get stronger the closer you got to what used to be the center of the barn.
It was almost suffocating, the negative energy swirling in the area. You’d been doing this a long time (much longer than someone would guess based on your appearance) and you’d never felt anything like this before.
You backed away slowly, realizing you’d have to bring out the big guns for this one. The smell made your nose scrunch up; rotting flesh not unlike that which you recognized from only the angriest, most violent spirits. It was better to be safe than sorry with cases like this.
You grabbed your tome, salt, and crystals from the spot a few yards/meters away and returned to the spot you’d left the smudge stick at. Once you found a space you were sure wasn’t full of sharp objects that’d puncture your ass, you took a seat. After pouring a small, neat salt circle you grabbed two more smudge sticks and levitated them short distances away to opposite sides of the barn. Even that didn’t do much to staunch the negative energy that seemed to be pouring out of the very air around you. You had an iron dagger by your side, ready to grab it at a moment’s notice if need be.
The tome’s pages creaked gently as you opened it and flipped to the page for cleansing spirits. The incantation was a long and powerful one, designed to rid an area of even the strongest spirit. Normally it’d be performed by a coven, but you were a Hedge Witch. You worked alone. In the space In Between.
Knowing you’d be at it for the better part of an hour, you grimaced and wiggled a bit, trying in vain to get just a little bit more comfortable. Realizing it was a fool’s errand, you began reading.
An hour. You read for an entire hour. Did the whole thing twice and still the foul energy permeated the area.
“That was interesting.”
You nearly jumped a foot in the air as you spun around, trying to see the person who’d just spoken.
No one was there.
You turned as you stood slowly, pivoting to look in every direction. Something had definitely spoken, but spirits were never that clear; you sensed their feelings and intent rather than hearing their words.
Suddenly, a fresh wave of the energy rolled over you and you fought the urge to gag.
You knew that smell.
You’d smelled it earlier today.
“Son of Ipswich,” you hissed, drawing your dagger.
“So you know what I am,” the voice said. It was loud, as though the speaker was right behind you, but when you turned there was nothing there. Again.
“Show yourself, coward,” you spat. “I have no time for your games. Which one are you? Caleb? Pogue? Tyler? Reid?” you asked, turning slowly on the spot. Your other hand slowly reached into your pocket, reaching for your warding crystal. If you could just see the bastard, then-
“Ha!” the voice laughed, though it sounded hateful rather than amused. “I’m not one of those losers.”
You spun, though you knew what you’d see: nothing. “Bullshit!” you swore, glaring at the air around you. “I know a Son of Ipswich when I smell one. I’d know that rotting stench anywhere. Now show yourself before I blow the whole area to hell.”
“Can’t do that, hot stuff. Whatever you did seriously messed with the In Between, but I can’t even make myself corporeal on the physical plane. Hell, I haven’t been able to see the physical plane in... what year is it?” the voice asked, suddenly sounding almost innocently curious. For the life of you, you couldn’t pinpoint where the voice was coming from.
Your best option was to keep him talking until you discovered his hiding spot. You weren’t buying his crap for a second. “2018,” you told him.
But he didn’t respond. You knew he was still there- his foul stench was still stinking the place up- but he’d stopped talking.
Finally, “Six years,” the voice breathed, sounding distraught.
You froze, mind slamming into overdrive. Six years. Son of Ipswich.
“Chase? Chase Collins?” you whispered, hoping to hell you were being punked or something.
“How do you know that name?” he asked, sounding wary now.
You stood there, dumbstruck. “Everyone in the magical community knows the story. Chase Goodwin Pope, the missing son of Ipswich. Addicted to his powers, he tried to forcibly take the powers of the other Sons of Ipswich. Killed his adoptive parents and an innocent schoolmate to hide his secret,” you said, facts rolling off your tongue without you having to think about them. This was bad. This was very, very bad. You’d weakened the In Between in the area by performing your cleansing, letting Chase, who’d been banished from the world by Caleb, once again see the physical realm.
Chase growled his anger. “Now you’re the one spouting bullshit. You don’t know anything about me,” he spat. The energy around you came to a crescendo and you fought back the urge to heave the contents of your stomach up on the spot.
He was stronger than any spirit would be and he’d be trapped In Between for eternity if you didn’t do something. People would get hurt. He’d drive people insane and his ability to traverse the In Between would only grow the longer you left him.
“Fine. Then tell me about it. Face to face,” you said, steeling yourself as you took a deep breath through your mouth.
He barked out a short, bitter laugh. “Are you mocking me now, little witch? You think I’d still be trapped in this hell if I had the power to free myself?”
You glared at the space in front of you. “I can get you out.”
He sounded surprised and dubious when he spoke next. “And why would you do that?”
You frowned. “’Cause you’re too dangerous to normal humans in there,” you said. Then, your lips tilted up into a challenging smirk. “Plus, I can’t kill you proper unless you’re in the physical realm.”
Chase’s laugh was loud and amused. “You think you can kill me, Hedge Witch?” he asked. It was clear from his tone what he thought the chances of that were.
You crossed your arms and shrugged. “Well, if you’re so sure that I can’t kill you then what’ve you got to lose? You get to walk free in the physical realm and kill an insolent Hedge Witch as a bonus.”
Chase took a moment to respond, but he sounded just as cocky and self-assured as ever. “Do the spell, Hedge Witch.”
You smirked. “I knew you’d come around. You need to perform the same spell from your side too. I take it you can see my spellbook?” you asked, nodding down the book in question.
“Yeah, it was the first thing I saw when the world started forming around me... besides your ugly mug, of course.”
You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Sit across the book from me. I have it memorized so I’ll let you read off of it,” you ordered as you sat back down on your well worn spot. You felt the energy shift around you as he moved in the In Between.
When he spoke again, he sounded like he was only a foot or so in front of you. “Let’s get this over with, then. I haven’t casted in six years and I miss the feeling,” he said.
You glowered at the space in front of you, but nodded. “Yeah, the sooner this is over the better.”
“It didn’t work,” Chase bitched, still as invisible as ever.
You smirked, fighting back a laugh. “Yeah, it did.” You winced as you felt a strong wave of energy flow through you.
“Well your head’s still attached to your shoulders so I’m gonna have to say no, no it didn’t,” he argued.
“That’s because that wasn’t the spell to get you into the physical realm,” you said, barely holding back a shit-eating grin.
There was a pause, then he spoke, deadly calm, “What the fuck did you do?”
“Where are you, exactly? In relation to me?” you asked, reaching into your pocket to pull out a thin cyan crystal.
“About two feet in front of you and a little to your left,” Chase said bitterly. “Now are you going to tell me what that shit was for, or-”
His words died in his throat as you crushed the crystal in your hand. Cyan smoke enveloped the area around you and you quickly stepped back, waving the smoke away as Chase Collins slowly materialized.
He was looking down at his hands as though he could barely believe it. He lifted a shoe and then placed it back down on the ground uncertainly, grinning when it hit the ground. He even did a little hop which would have been cute if he wasn’t a damn murdering psychopath.
He looked up at you and you forgot to breathe for a moment as those clear blue-grey eyes zeroed in on you. No wonder Caleb and the other Sons had been so quick to trust him. With a face like that, who wouldn’t?
“Thank you, little Hedge Witch. But I’ll be going now,” he said, grinning viciously as he stuck a hand out, likely to send a bone-crushing concussive blast your way.
You smiled blandly as exactly nothing happened.
The smile slowly slipped off his face and he looked down at his hand like he didn’t recognize it. His gaze snapped back up to you and he thrust his hand out again, but, once more, nothing happened.
He stared at you with rapidly growing horror. “What did you do?”
You smirked at him like a cat that caught the canary. “We sealed away your powers,” you said with probably more satisfaction than was necessary.
Chase looked at you, horrified. “That’s the spell we performed? You took away my powers? That shouldn’t even be possible! I should be dead!” he said, sounding both scared and angry.
You rolled your eyes and began gathering up your things. “Yeah, well, there are plenty of things you SOIs don’t know because you think you’re too good for certain magics.”
He was advancing on you menacingly, closing the distance between you in only a few long strides. “I don’t need magic to kill you, you fucking bi-”
You looked up just in time to watch him get blown backward the second he tried to touch you. He flew at least fifteen feet through the air and landed in a heap in the tall grass.
“Oh yeah, did I forget to tell you you can’t touch me without my permission?” you asked with a smirk.
“Fuck you!” Chase yelled back, sounding more than a little winded.
You tucked your tome under your arm and grabbed the last little bits of crystals and other paraphernalia that had come out of your bags and pockets during the excitement.
“Come on, then,” you called to him, turning your back on him to walk back towards your Jeep.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, you crazy fucking Hedge Witch!” he yelled. From the sound of it he was on his feet again and walking towards you.
“Then you can stay here and wait for the other Sons to find you, powerless and alone,” you countered, not bothering to turn around when you felt your wards catch an object he’d flung at the back of your head. You heard something heavy and metallic fall to the ground a second later, followed by a muttered curse.
“Your choice, Goodwin-Pope-Collins, but choose fast. I got places to be and I’m not coming back,” you said, as you placed your tools carefully into the back seat of your car.
You weren’t too surprised when you heard the passenger-side door opening as you slid into the driver’s seat.
You glanced over at Chase who, if looks could kill, would have murdered you ten times over. “Good choice,” you said with a smile as you turned the Jeep on and did a U-turn in the grass and headed back towards town.
One glamour crystal and a thousand dollars later you were on the highway, Ipswich a distant speck in your rear view mirror.
“So you’re a con artist,” Chase said from his spot in the passenger seat, staring at you with as much judgement as he could muster.
You smirked. “Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes I do real work... but when there isn’t I like to think of it as being paid to give people peace of mind,” you explained.
“A thousand bucks is a lot of money for peace of mind,” Chase said, obviously annoyed. “Where are you taking me?” he asked suddenly, turning those sharp steel blue eyes on you.
You shrugged lazily as you sped down the nearly-empty highway. “Dunno yet. Not so sure I should let you outta my sight. Something tells me you’re dangerous even without your powers.”
He didn’t respond to that, instead changing tactics. “What did you do with my powers?”
“Sealed ‘em,” you said as you turned up the stereo, attempting to tune him out.
He growled in frustration and turned the volume down to almost nothing. “What does that even mean?” he asked angrily.
You glared at him, but returned your eyes back to the road after a second. “Exactly what it sounds like. I sealed your powers away so you can’t use ‘em. They’re still part of you which is why you’re not six feet under right now, but you can’t access ‘em,” you explained.
“How did you get me out of the astral realm?” he asked, obviously trying to catch you unawares.
“I’m a Hedge Witch, idiot. The In Between is a place I know intimately even if I don’t frequent it myself. Getting you out was easier than banishing a restless spirit,” you snarked.
He stared at you flatly for a second or two. “I hate you,” he deadpanned.
You nearly laughed at that and a mirthless smile worked its way onto your face. “Feeling’s mutual, pal.”
By the time you pulled into the driveway of your home, Chase had grown tired of grilling you for information. You were sure he wasn’t done, but he at least had the decency to pause long enough to eat and sleep.
“Wake up, fucker,” you said, throwing a used napkin at his face.
He jolted awake instantly and grabbed sleepily at the napkin, finally looking up and glaring at you when it made an audible squishing noise in his hand. “Where are we?” he asked tersely as he peered up through the windshield at your little one-floor country house with unmistakable disdain. There wasn’t another house around for over a mile.
“My home,” you said with a smirk as you opened the door to your car and hopped down onto the pavement. You heard the passenger door open and close and a second later Chase was as close as he could be to you without being blasted away by your wards while you gathered your items up from the back seat.
“And why the hell did you bring me here?” he spat.
You carefully juggled your things in your hands and used your hip to shut the door, giving him a dirty look when he didn’t move to help you at all. “Because you’re dangerous and I can’t in good conscience let you out into the world,” you said as you trundled over to your front door, thankful you’d had the foresight to have your keys in your hands before you got to the door.
“And what’s to stop me from just leaving?” he asked, barely two feet away.
“Nothing, really, but you won’t,” you said as you unlocked the door and practically fell through the doorway in an attempt to keep everything from tumbling to the ground.
You could feel him glaring holes through the back of your skull as you placed your things down in the entryway (putting them away was a problem for a later date- you were dead on your feet). “Because you’re the only way I can get my powers back,” he guessed shrewdly.
You turned to look at him, hand on your cocked hip. “Ooh, I guess there’s something in that noggin after all,” you said, giving him a pat on the head before he could flinch away. His hair was silky soft, which you hadn’t been expecting. When he wasn’t blasted back into the front door he looked at you incredulously for a moment before a wicked grin crept onto his face, but you dashed his hopes before he tried something stupid. “Nah ah, don’t even think about it. The wards are still in place. I can touch you if I want, but you can’t touch me unless I let you.”
He groaned and ran a hand over his face. “So I’m stuck with you until I can figure out how to get my powers back. Fan-fucking-tastic.”
You rolled your eyes and walked to the kitchen. “You’re not getting your powers back,” you said, rifling through the pantry for something remotely edible. You really should clean it out more often, but that was so much work and the fungus was sometimes useful for potions.
“Says you,” Chase said defiantly as he trailed after you like the world’s angriest, murderiest puppy.
You whirled on him, his attitude finally getting the better of your patience. “Look you stupid, arrogant, high-chasing witch boy,” you spat, poking him so hard in the chest that he almost lost his balance. “Your powers eat away at your life force. They’re addictive and sanity-inducing. They corrupt anything and everything around them but you dense motherfuckers never seem to realize that! You use and use and use until you’re wrinkled and decrepit at forty! Even Sons who grow up knowing about their powers don’t always have the ability to stop themselves from using! You didn’t have that. You grew up using more than any of the other four Sons combined, not knowing what it’d mean the moment you hit eighteen. You deluded yourself into thinking you could extend your life if you took the other Sons’ powers- their very lives-, but that’s not how it works! Don’t you see, you absolute fucking dimwit? I did you a fucking favor by sealing your powers. You’ll be able to see your twentieth damn birthday! You can have a life!” you yelled, having gotten louder and louder the longer you spoke without realizing it.
Chase looked murderous as he loomed over you. “And I didn’t ask for that! I didn’t want this you pretentious bitch! I need my magic! It’s a part of me and it’s not your right to take that away from me!” he screamed, face beginning to turn red from anger.
You took a deep, calming breath and stared him dead in the eyes. “If you’re trying to convince me that you’re in control of your decisions, you’re doing a poor job.”
Chase lunged for you with a barely human snarl, nearly causing you to flinch, but he was readily repelled backwards by your wards. He landed in the kitchen in a heap, scattering pots, pans, and spices everywhere.
He let out a string of curses that would have made the devil himself blush and stood as though he’d merely been sitting down on the floor and not been blown fifteen feet into a solid countertop.
You watched calmly as he reached for anything and everything. Dishes and glassware were dashed upon the tiled floor. Silverware was thrown through your windows. Food was flung across all the surfaces. He didn’t try throwing anything at you, instead focusing on destroying anything he could see. Cupboards were ripped from their hinges and used to dent the sides of the refrigerator and oven. The glass top of the stove survived the assault of the cupboard drawer only to be shattered into a spiderweb pattern by the electric mixer.
He didn’t stop, even when not a single thing in your kitchen remained whole. Instead he moved to the living room and you watched quietly as he began destroying everything there, too.
By the time he was done, the stuffing from your couch and pillows made the room look almost festive, as though it had snowed indoors. All of your cluttered knick-knacks were in pieces on the floor and each and every window was shattered, ensuring the living room was now drafty.
When he began walking down the hall, though, you narrowed your eyes, patience once again wearing thin. He was sick, but even your kindness had its limits.
He reached out for the door handle on the right and you moved quick as lightning, tossing a deep blue crystal at him, which shattered on impact with his arm and enveloped him in a thick, stifling fog.
You watched as he slumped slowly then eventually passed out on his feet and fell to the floor with an almighty thud.
You sighed as you walked over to him and nudged him with your foot. Out like a light.
When asleep, he looked almost cute. Innocent, peaceful. Not like a man capable of destroying half of your possessions in a fit of rage.
You grumbled your annoyance as you hefted him onto and over your shoulder.
The walk to the spare room was a little less than graceful (Chase wasn’t exactly small and you could tell just from this simple contact that he was very, very fit). You ended up dropping him accidentally when you tried to open the door and only just barely managed to stop him from landing on his neck with a last minute hover spell.
You opened the door and carefully pushed him into the room, doing your best to avoid running him into errant table or chair legs. One slight struggle of lifting him into the bed later and your mission was accomplished. You huffed in satisfaction and exhaustion in equal measure as you ran a hand through your hair. You glanced down at him and your breath caught in your throat. The warm evening sun streamed in through the windows, alighting the particles that danced in the air around you before finally landing on Chase’s sleeping form. You found yourself perching on the edge of the bed without thinking about it, hand outstretched towards him. His hair, which normally stood up thanks to some sort of hair product, had fallen onto his forehead and you brushed it aside with the lightest of touches.
He was gorgeous. Intelligent. Driven.
And so, so tragic.
With a sigh you tore your eyes from his sleeping form and left the room, leaving the door unlocked so he wouldn’t tear a hole through the wall to the outside world or something when he woke up.
You went to your room- the first door on the right- and collapsed onto your bed with a pathetic groan. What had you been thinking? Taking a Son of Ipswich with you, and the most insane one at that? Surely you’d sustained brain damage in your years on this green earth.
No, helping things is what you did, whether it be an under-watered plant, a bird with a broken wing, or a half-insane magic-addicted warlock.
You set the alarm on your phone to go off relatively early in the morning, though you had a feeling you’d be woken up by your house guest long before then, and buried your face into your pillow, not even bothering to remove your clothes.
“It’s gonna be a long, long few months...” you grunted to no one in particular. Your bedroom kept its impartial silence and you sighed once more before sleep took you.
Next Chapter
#chase collins x reader#chase collins#the covenant#chase x reader#chase goodwin pope#caleb danvers#slight au
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Wanderer of Sol - Business Chapter 2
Chapter 1 here
Chapter 2
The loading ramp dropped it's last foot or so with a thump and a small cloud of dust. Robin said she'd get around to fixing that, but the crew had been strapped for cash. As Gomez and his men walked up the ramp, the idea of their deals on Mars going well crept into Robin's mind, and she thought to make good on fixing that door the next time they docked for more than an hour. Wanderer was flanked by the two girls he flew with, Gomez by two men who were big enough to be two men a piece. A little overkill, honestly.
“How you doing Jon?” Gomez reached out to Wanderer's waiting hand as they shook. His men rolled large containers behind them, filled with the objects of Wanderer's desire.
“I'm doing good Gomez. How's business?” Wanderer inquired, as Gomez's goons opened the containers for Wanderer to inspect.
“Eh, it could be better honestly. I'm running low on inventory, low on credits. I can't find buyers the way you can. I don't even know who would be interested in this crap. But they pay top dollar for it, if you manage to find them.” He explained while Wanderer rifled through the boxes.
“Hey, careful what you're calling 'crap', Gomez. We both know this stuff is premium, to the right clients. You'll find them, with experience, and making new connections.” Wanderer responded, hefting a tome, bound in some kind of unidentifiable skin, encrusted in empty sockets, the gems that once adorned it had been pawned long ago, leaving behind nothing but vellum and ink to be appraised by those who knew it's true value.
“Very true, Jon. And that reminds me, I wanted to ask. How do you not have any security, hauling valuable antiques all over the system? Don't you have run-ins with the pirate federations?” Gomez asked while watching Wanderer sort the goods into piles that only he understood.
“We've got Security. Head Security Officer Munin's right there. You've met her, before.” Wanderer pointed over his shoulder lazily with this thumb. Gomez smirked a little until he realized she was leaning on a long club with nails driven through it in odd and crooked angles. She just shot him a look that could kill and he turned away from her, back to Wanderer. “And I've bought favor with a few pirate fleets over the past few years. Anyone who's terf we pass through, at least. Decent people, pirates. That and they're terrified of me. This all looks pretty good, everything I asked for is here. Let me show you what I've got and we can get this trade underway.”
Wanderer lead Gomez past Munin, who looked like she was ready to swing her bat as his head, to a large cargo container. “Everything in this container is in the price range you specified and is more or less one to one with everything you've brought to trade” He explained as he popped the lock on the container, showing walls of books surrounding boxes and crates full of strange statues, antique swords and rifles, and bones from unspecified creatures any would be hard pressed to identify. Gomez could only let out a “Wow” as Wanderer continued. “If you're looking for something in a higher or lower price range, I've got other containers.”
“That's a lot of inventory, Jon.” Gomez said, taking off his sunglasses, and replacing them with prescription reading glasses to skim over the contents. “I'll take all of it.”
“I donno if you heard me correctly. Each item in here is worth the same as one of your items. Now, if you've got enough credits for a few thousand books and everything in these crates then-” Gomez put his glasses back in his pocket while interrupting Wanderer mid-sentence.
“No, I heard you. I said, I'll take it all. Jon, I hate to do this to you, but this is a robbery. You honestly can't expect one girl with a bat to be a real deterrent when dealing with something of this value. I have word that there's a new buyer entering the market and I have to establish a name for myself in this trade, and you've got a collection worthy of making a name for anyone.” Gomez explained, pulling a gun from his coat and pointing it at Wanderer's chest. Wanderer raised his hands slowly above his head. With Gomez standing in the entrance of the container, it would be difficult if not impossible for Wanderer to safely disarm him, or find a way past him, to his security officer, and there was no way he could move fast enough to get behind one of the boxes. For the moment he was a hostage in his own ship, at the gunpoint of someone he had hoped to do business with in the future. Unfortunate.
“And not to be unprofessional...” Gomez continued “But we can't have anyone knowing where my new inventory came from. It might tarnish the name I'm trying to make. And thankfully, 'Jon Dillir' doesn't exist in any citizenship records, so no one would miss you, or your ship. So Jon, or whoever you are, if you have any last words, or prayers, I'll give you the chance to say them, then I'll make it quick and painless. Though I can't say the same for the girl with the bat” He said, aiming the pistol between Wanderer's eyes. With a crack, the two goons approached Munin slowly, extended taser rods from their coats, igniting them into a shower of sparks and arcing electrons. Munin was more than ready to throw herself at both of the mountains of muscle stalking up to her, one step at a time, but she knew she had better let Wanderer say his prayer first. And he did.
Wanderer closed his eyes and began to whisper. The words were so soft, even Gomez couldn't hear them at point blank. Not that he would know the ancient words that lifted from Wanderer's lips. They weren't for him, and they certainly weren't for any god. “Alright. I'm ready if you are.” Wanderer said, staring into the eyes of the man who would kill him.
“Thanks for letting me know you were done. It's been good doing business with you, kid.” Gomez replied. He pulled the trigger only to hear an empty click. He pulled again, and nothing. A few more times and nothing. Cocking the gun again ejected a dud round, and another click, and another. “The fuck?” Gomez asked aloud just before there was the first and only bang. He dropped to his knees and held his leg. Robin was standing off to the side, brandishing her pistol in his general direction. That shot was like the signal to start a race, as Munin leapt at the closer of her two attackers, never even looking back to see if Wanderer was alive. She brought the bat across his face in a gorey eruption of red and sparks, as the side of the mountain caved in like a defunct volcano. The look on her face was manic and blissful as the brute's cybernetic implant got tangled in the nails of her bat, and came out with a swift yank and the spurt of more blood.
Wanderer casually walked over his would be killer and snatched up his pistol, ejecting the remainder of the clip onto the floor, before pushing out a pin and pulling the slide off the top. The whole time, walking out of the container and towards Munin, he resumed whispering at a fast pace, his arm extended to the remaining attacker. As the other man brought his stun baton down on Munin, the spark fizzled and died with the completion of Wanderer's prayer. He had just hit a murderous anarchist with what was little more than a plastic rod. She pulled a knife from her boot and swiftly jabbed it between his legs, as he promptly dropped to his knees and bled for her.
Wanderer turned his attention back to the crippled Gomez who was muttering something to himself, now that the threat was taken care of.
“Where the fuck did that bitch who shot me even come from?!” He screamed loud enough for her to hear.
“I'm wearing my gray glamourred overalls. The second you guys started paying attention to Munin you totally forgot I was even here.” She explained before returning a question. “Don't you read the stuff you sell? It's like one of the most basic of the basics.”
“That bullshit about magic? It's all bullshit that rich gullible fucks buy.” He replied while clutching his bleeding leg and cursing.
“Sure, man. Did you see what just happened to you? I mean, fuck. Munin's turning your boyfriends into soup as we speak.” She said walking across the room to confront Gomez up close, and to put her back to Munin's repeated bashing of the corpses laying near the loading ramp. Gomez had actually already forgotten who he was talking to until she was standing right in front of him.
“It's true Gomez. I wasn't telling you I was ready to be shot, I was telling her that I had successfully jinxed your gun and she was clear to take the shot. Then I turned off your goon's cattle prod with the same kind of jinx.” Wanderer wanted to be clear, this all went according to his plan, not Gomez's. “Now I've indulged you with one truth. Your turn to tell me everything you know about this new buyer in the system.” Wanderer thought his proposition was fair, but Gomez was still sore about the happenings as he promptly told everyone there to go fuck themselves.
“You don't know shit, 'Jon', or whatever the fuck your real name is.” Gomez was fuming that he had gotten his ass kicked so hard.
“Gomez. You're real name is Francisco Mortim Santos. AKA, Frank, Mory, Mort, Fred, Mark and like a dozen other boring names. Your family are immigrants from the Beja-Faro Republic of Lesser Portugal on Earth. Moved to Mars when you were 6. A few years ago your dad died and you actually sold your own mother for medical testing. That's fucked, Gomez. You're also wanted on several planets, moons, and satellites for everything from blackmail to murder. Eh, you've probably done worse, huh?” Wanderer had began to reveal some of the research he had done going into the deal, but Gomez was just saying “fuck” over and over again with every fact dropped in his lap. “So how about this. You tell me everything you know about this new client you want to impress so much, and I don't drop you off at the nearest police station with all the files and identification documents I dug up on you? You can just hobble out of here, scot-free.”
“Go fuck yourself, Jonny.” Crept out of Gomez's mouth between waves of pain. Robin was pretty sure her bullet was lodged in his shin bone.
“Let me make him talk.” Munin said, prying her bat out of the puddle of gore and machine near the loading ramp. “These guys are fuckin' cheap androids. I need some real blood before the day's over. Not this synthetic shit!” She yelled, hitting the bat into the side of the container housing Gomez. Wanderer wasn't sure if the bloodlust in her eyes was real or if she was putting on a good act to scare him. He was pretty sure, before the fighting broke out, that those guys were androids. Robin thought it was obvious. Regardless, she was getting blood all over the container, and it was probably best if Wanderer tried to keep her calm. “Munin, chill. That's not very professional of a Head Securi-” She brought her bat down on Gomez's hand with a audible crunch. Robin winced and turned away as Munin twisted the nails embedded in his hand and he let out a drawn out scream.
“Alright, Gomez. I'm a pretty busy lady. We've got two more deals after this. I have to go clean all this blood off and do laundry before that, and adding your brains to my coat won't take any more detergent. Tell the man what he wants to know and I'll only brake one of your legs. I'm feeling nice, so the one that's already fucked. Sound good?” Munin thought her ultimatum was completely reasonable, but the next words that came out of Gomez were “What the fuck is wrong with you?” and that was not the correct answer. Wanderer had already turned his back to Munin, knowing how into her work she can get.
After that, Gomez was ready to talk.
“Ceres! The planetoid just changed hands, and word has it, fuck, word has it that the guys who bought it are really into this shit. They're loaded, but they won't deal with just anyone. They said they want people who can prove they're passionate about the product. Fuck me. I think I'm gonna puke.” Gomez spilled his guts, both figuratively and literally.
“Huh, well, that's the first I've heard of this. Gomez, today's your lucky day.” Wanderer explained to him. “I'm keeping this small stack of books that interests me, as compensation for all the emotional distress you've caused me and my crew. And I'm keeping this container to pay for the damage you've caused to my cargo with all the bleeding and vomiting and stuff. The other container of yours is still yours to keep. If you pawn it off you should be able to afford medical attention for your leg and hand. Munin, you want to show Mr. Santos the door, and I'll start getting laundry together and request launch clearance?” Wanderer stated in a pretty matter of fact tone. Munin was already picking Gomez up by the back of his shirt and dragging him towards the loading ramp. She passed Wanderer with an affirming “Sure thing, Captain.”
He responded with a casual “Awesome, thanks. I'll get the hot water started for a shower too. I really don't want you tracking viscera all over the ship again, and you need to be presentable when we land in Sacra Fossae.”
“Sweet. That's kind of you boss.” She replied, throwing Gomez the full length of the loading ramp onto the pavement, then kicking his container at him. “I'll clean up this mess, then I'll be up.”
Wanderer made his way back towards the common area and hesitated outside Robin's room. “Hey, Robin. How you doing?” He asked, shouting into her room through the door. The door slid open and Robin appeared. She had changed out of her work clothes and into something more comfy.
“I'm good, Wanderer. That got a little rough, and I threw up on my enchanted overalls when Munin went all blood lusty. But I'll be ok. Just another day in the life, when you're a boat full of mages dealing with criminals and miscreants.” Robin was a little shaken. She didn't have a problem shooting someone, she'd done it before, but she preferred quick and painless, non-lethal if possible. This was the opposite of Munin in every way.
“Well, I'm about to do some wash, if you want to throw you're overalls in there. I'm using the enchanted soap, so you don't have to worry about all the blood on Munin's stuff staining.” He explained. Making casual conversation was probably the second best way he knew, excluding casting a spell on her to keep Robin relaxed and not over thinking the ordeal they just had. The first best way was to keep her mind preoccupied, which is why he then handed her a book he had taken from Gomez. “I thought you might find this interesting. Thanks for having my back today.” He gave her a smile as his grasp left the book.
Robin's eye's lit up. The book wasn't nearly as old as most of the others from the collection, but it was exactly the kind of thing she would enjoy. An old programming text book, maybe only a couple hundred years old, still in decent condition. Flipping though it's pages, it was littered with loose leaves and notes in the margins, all about technomancy. It was so hard for Robin to find research material on her unconventional school of the arcane arts, but somehow Wanderer always found exactly what she was looking for.
“No problem, and thanks man. This is awesome.” She had already cracked open the cover to give it a proper read. Her eyes were transfixed as they followed line by line.
“Hey, I'm going to get air traffic control taken care of, then laundry. Don't forget your overalls. Robin, I can see you're already in a trance. Witch, you in there?!” Wanderer tried for a moment before giving up, walking into the bathroom, to turn on the water heater, and heading to the pilot's cabin to call in their refueling and launch request. Soon they would be back in the air, but if Wanderer managed his time correctly, it would be just enough time to get some chores done and resupply before having to pay any additional parking fees.
Chapter 3 here
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ES Spectre Interlock Chapter 01-10
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Midnight Sorceress
Chapter: 1/? [1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - ?]
Chapter 1: What a pain
Words: 2778
Warnings: Some cursing.
Rewritten on 5/17/2018 feel free to reread.
Primarily following the events of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, it revolves around an original character.
Description as posted on ao3: A member of SHIELD is forced to struggle with her mental stability and keeping her secret as the craziness surrounding the Avengers crashes around her. She ends up befriending Tony and Pepper, who help out her mental health a great deal, but will they be able to help her with her secret? Something that could destroy her if she uses it too much... What will happen when Tony tries to convince her to use it to help the Avengers?
Read on ao3: here
Tags: @txnystarkimagines @h0bsyrup
Hit me up if you want to be tagged in future chapters.
After the attack on New York by the Chitauri—or... the 'aliens' for most citizens unaware of what they were called, I've decided to keep a small little journal of sorts. It's not much, but I suppose it allows me to vent some and get my thoughts out. I'm not particularly fond of sharing my feelings, but I was told I have to get it out somehow.
If you're reading this, and I have given you permission, please turn to page three.
If you are reading this, and I have not given you permission, please turn to page two.
[PAGE 2]
Fuck off. (Not that you will but at least I have the satisfaction of telling you to.)
[PAGE 3]
I guess I should explain a few things before I start, huh?
A bit about me-- I work with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division, or SHIELD for short. I was approached by an agent after an incident in college that was nearly the cause of my death, but there'll be more time to explain that later.
The major thing I should tell you is... that I do have powers, but I'm limited with how I much I can use them. The power itself would actually be fairly useful in helping SHIELD—my powers being similar to telekinesis. It's a... bit more complicated than that, though. I'm not sure if there's a name for how my powers work, but not only can I lift objects and move them from their original position; but I can also make them semi-sentient. I can use cooking utensils to cook food while I'm in another room, or fixing up something that I'm not too familiar with while I read a book.
I can also make objects change shape, which is pretty cool. I could use them for fighting, if I had the strength to do it. I've had a paper plate and bowl fight in the shape of different animals. When I'm alone, I like bringing stray blades of grass together and make them dance on the wind.
Now, you have a decent understanding of why SHIELD was interested in me to begin with. Let's revisit the college story so you can know a bit more of what happened.
I still remember the day vividly, like a dream I had just woken up from. It was the fall semester and the sky was cloudy with the looming winter weather overhead. I had been in the cafeteria, working on an essay for one of my classes, earbuds in with music playing. I had been snacking on some chips, not hungry enough to get breakfast but too hungry to wait for lunch. I felt the ground shaking before I noticed the students starting to frantically run out of the room. I had pulled my earbuds out, having less than a few seconds to realize what was going on. The ceiling was falling down from the other side of the cafeteria before a loud boom disoriented me, seeing some of the students nearby about to be hit with bits of the ceiling that were coming down over us. In my fight-or-flight response, I froze, or felt like I did anyway.
What was I going to do? Could I even get away in time? Should I use my powers? That could kill me! The thoughts went by so fast it felt like watching pages of a book flipping past and a blur left behind in its wake. In a split second, I lifted my hands to stop the oncoming debris from crushing the rest of us who were left in the building. I can briefly remember the other students staring at me in awe and my strained voice screaming at them to go. When I saw the last student get out the door, I had used my powers for so long that I was unable to hold it up for my own escape.
I was told that another student had decided that the best course of action was to bomb the school, most likely in an attempt to do a murder/suicide. There were three bombs that went off in total, one over the gym that was empty at the time it went off, and two over the area of the cafeteria. They were small enough that the building itself was still standing, but had caused a good amount of damage. I was lucky enough that the students I had saved were quick to tell the college staff that I was still inside.
My parents had flown out from the UK to make sure I was okay and the school put together some get-well cards and flowers that were put around my room. It was a nice thing to wake up to, but when I did awaken there was a figure in a black suit waiting to talk to me.
It was an agent from SHIELD, that told me they wanted to bring me in; not only to make sure I was healing properly—having better advancements in healing than the average hospital—but to keep others from trying to abuse my powers. It was something I had feared for a while, but wasn't aware of the under-the-radar groups that could have taken interest in me similar to SHIELD. It was set up that only agents with higher level security clearances knew about this little fact. I've learned how to do more with my powers since that incident, but I still face the fear of over-exerting myself to the possible point of death.
Also, I guess I should have put this at the beginning, huh? My name is Kiana, but you can refer to me as Kiki.
"Mr. Stark," a voice sounded out, bringing Tony from his thoughts as he sat on one of the couches, deeply focused on whatever he was reading on his phone. He glanced up to look at the figure, a raven haired figure—most likely an agent—with a file tucked under her arm.
"Here's the debriefing for the meeting at two. Please read through all of the pages beforehand," she spoke as she handed the folder to him, "oh, and don't be late." He looked over her as he took the folder, brows arching as he examined her in thought.
"I haven't seen you around before... Are you new?" He looked down at the papers within the folder, only giving it half of his attention at best.
"I've been working here since before the Avengers initiative, sir," she retorted quickly, turning to take her leave.
"Why haven't I seen you around before then?" he questioned, closing the folder after he finished skimming the paperwork.
"Are you meaning to say that you're familiar with every member of SHIELD?" her brow arched, stopping to turn back to him, sarcasm in her tone as she spoke.
"Not... personally, but I have read over most of the paperwork for what I thought was all the members," he looked up at her, a smirk forming on his lips—knowing he shouldn't have access to that information.
A smile crossed her lips as she gave him the sweetest tone she could muster, "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, but you'll need a much higher security clearance to read my file—or some of the others for that matter. Now that we have gotten that covered, I'm a rather busy woman, so I should get back to work." She turned back into the direction she was heading, going to what he could only presume was 'back to work'.
"Huh..." he mused quietly to himself, "then I'll just have to obtain this higher level of clearance." His smirk widened, taking her comment as a challenge.
Sometimes I wish I could slap the smirk off of some people's faces, but I really wanted to slap Tony's smirk right off of his face. I've managed to avoid directly interacting with him, but all the other agents were busy or off on a mission... He's just so... ugh. He's so cocky and annoying and thinks he can get anything he wants. I mean, so do most rich people, but I don't have to deal with them.
Well, he'll be pretty busy for a while so I won't be seeing him anytime soon. I'll just personally make sure someone is keeping an eye on the files, changing the codes until he finally gets bored of trying to get in.
A week had passed since Tony had seen the mysterious agent whom he was unable to find anywhere in the database. By this point, he had even gotten a look into Director Fury's files, so he had become curious as to just how much was being hidden away from him. So, naturally he begun to develop software to break through all the security levels that had apparently been blocking him.
"Hey, Fury," Tony said as he strolled up next to the man, "I want to ask some questions about that one girl who had brought me paperwork last week for the meeting."
"Plenty of people have brought you paperwork, Stark. Why is it you want to know about this one?" Fury didn't bother to look at him, instead still working on whatever was currently on his screen, turning to look at the one on his right.
"Because," he started, pursing his lips together, "I haven't been able to find her file anywhere and I want to know why~"
"Again," he gave a quick glance at the billionaire, "there are plenty of agents here who fit that specific description. We have quite a number of people whose files are hidden for security reasons... and of course other reasons."
Tony hummed to himself for a second, remembering the girl, "This one had black hair about here... Bright blue eyes that just screamed she was full of secrets... Kind of sassy?" He gestured to about where her hair length was, crossing his arms soon after.
"I know exactly who you've been talking about, but that's about all I am willing to tell you, Stark."
He pouted his lips slightly as he realized their conversation was over, not getting any new information from the director. He left and continued his attempts to try and crack through, knowing that there had to be some sort of let up at some point or another.
Kiana slipped through the door quietly and plopped herself down onto the couch, head resting against the arm with her recently removed jacket shielding her eyes from the light. A dark red headed female closed the door behind her, following the other into the room, sitting in the chair across from the couch while taking a sip from her cup of coffee. There was a brief moment of silence between the two, relishing in the action that they were currently partaking in—relaxing and drinking coffee.
"I'm pretty sure Tony will be getting a warning in the next week or so for obnoxiously trying to hack into the system," Kiana snickered from behind her jacket, stretching her arms up before pulling her sleeves down past her hands again.
"Ew," the other murmured under her breath, "What's he even trying to figure out?"
Kiana sat up, looking over at her as the jacket fell off her face, giving a soft laugh, "Ew? What's ew, Sammy? He's just mad because he doesn't know everything and we've been changing the codes on him. I get it—he's super paranoid, but he doesn't get an all access pass just because of that."
"He smells like booze and cheap entertainment... If you know what I mean," Sammy mumbled, "plus I overheard him telling Bruce one time that I looked like a... 'dead squirrel'—like the kind that's been run over and left on the side of the road. I know he's just mad that I stole his wallet that one time, but it's not my fault he didn't notice it was missing for a couple of days!" A soft groan emitted from her, completely focused on her reason for saying 'ew'.
"Sammy... No... Really? You stole his wallet?" her jaw dropped as she shook her head, "I mean.. Joe-No-Schmo in the street is one thing, I don't approve, but less risky... Why would you steal from "the" Tony Stark?!"
They continued discussing Kiana's encounter with Tony, talking about how their security experts were keeping a tight watch on all of the higher level security files. It wasn't until a little later in the afternoon that Kiana got a bit more serious about the discussion regarding the billionaire playboy.
"I am a bit concerned about him, though..." She sighed.
"About what?" Sammy asked, mouth half full of the cake she had begun munching upon. Kiana wasn't entirely sure where she even got the cake from at this point, and wasn't prepared to ask.
"He has a bad habit... of... Well doing stupid things... I've kind of avoided him 'cause he's a jerk, but I do know a good deal about him. He's been... Well, he's been acting differently after incident in New York... I'm not entirely sure what's going on, but I just don't think you're able to go through something like that completely unscathed..."
"Maybe he should go to therapy," Sammy suggested, waving her fork around while she spoke.
"I'm fairly certain his pride wouldn't allow him to admit he needs it in the first place. I just.... I dunno, I guess it's because I know what it's like to be close to death? It leaves a hole in you... A sort of emptiness that makes you feel scared... You're certain that anything that can go bad, will. Safety is important, but it becomes an all-consuming importance in your life." She sighed, falling back onto the couch. "The more often you're reminded of it—or worse—having other experiences similar to the first can leave you feeling shattered and alone. Tony is way too prideful to admit he feels that way or needs help. It's different when it's physical—broken bone? Just put a cast on it for a couple of weeks. Cuts or bruises? That's nothing... but this is emotional... Emotional damage isn't... Well, it isn't something people often take seriously. I don't think he'd let someone come near if he is experiencing emotional trauma."
Sammy listened to her little tangent, watching as the other scratched her arms nervously and frowned at the red she could see under her sleeve. She stared at her hands quietly, fiddling her thumbs together in quiet contemplation after pushing her sleeves back down. She leaned over to poke the other in the cheek. "You're talking from experience, aren't ya?"
Kiana's eyes widened, blinking at the sudden touch that brought her out of her deep thought. "I... uh... Yeah, sorta..." She admitted, shrugging her shoulders gently, rubbing her arms nervously.
"If you're so concerned, maybe you should try to talk to him?"
"I would... but he's just so... infuriating!! Says whatever he wants, does whatever he wants! If he wasn't such a loud mouth, maybe he wouldn't have had so many issues in life! He needs to learn when to shut his stupid mouth!"
"And I'm not infuriating?" Sammy asked, brow arched as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"You need to stop stealing stuff, yes!! But you're not as annoying as he is," she huffed out her chest, pink flushing softly in her cheeks.
"All he does is poke fun at you... and flirt a little? Just ignore that and maybe you can get past whatever you consider is his... 'annoying-ness'." She rolled her eyes.
"That's not just--!!! Ugh!!" She sighed, giving a small pout towards the other while resting her chin into the palm of her hand and thinking it over. Maybe she was letting her perception of him mask what was actually there? Most likely... "Maybe you're right..."
Sammy has a habit of coming out with a good point here and there... Aside from stealing being useful, of course. She suggested that I try and talk to Tony... I would rather not go out of my way, but... I mean, I guess I'd have to if I wanted to try... I'm not sure if he would even bother to listen to me. I'm not even sure why I feel bad about all of this... I barely even know him. I feel so stupid!!
I guess it's not so weird, though... I've always cared about others... It doesn't help that I see some things in him that I've been... ignoring in myself. It's hard not to gravitate towards people who have or have had similar problems to yourself...
#tony stark#original character#tony stark x original character#tony stark x oc#tony stark x reader#iron man#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#mcu#avengers#marvel fanfiction#iron man fanfiction#avengers fanfiction
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saint in the city ch.8 (katlaska) - comeapart
a/n: thank you endlessly for the kind comments. this chapter is a little longer than the others, because it’s the last ever update of sitc. ch.1 here & ch.2 here & ch.3 here & ch.4 here & ch.5 here & ch.6 here & ch.7 here. always and forever, comeapart
The first thing Alaska did after the conversation with Courtney was find Katya’s office. Katya was busy, probably in the OR with Willam, and Alaska didn’t bother going to check as she let herself in. Katya’s computer was still open, and Alaska shook her head, amazed at the fact Katya hadn’t managed to have her identity stolen yet. She grabbed a sheet of paper from the side, taking a pen and getting to work returning the messages.
‘Hi(eee), asshole (Katya.) This is a note from me, Alaska (I don’t have a middle name, but I’m being open - see how easy it is?) Thunder(fuck) (5000, if you’re nasty,) and it’s not anonymous because I am not an asshole. I like you too, and if you are interested, I am free every night this week (except for thursday and friday because I have double shifts) (which you probably already know about because you seem to know more about my schedule than I do.) In the spirit of being open, ASK ME OUT ON A DATE. Thank you.’ She scribbled down, adding her number and then both Willam and Courtney’s numbers too, because she wasn’t trying to hide anything.
It was the least anonymous note she had ever written. She was pretty proud of it. She then went home, and made Courtney watch the Golden Girls with her until she stopped stressing out. Courtney made pasta, because neither of them were particularly good at cooking, and drank an entire bottle of wine between them. Alaska was pretty proud of them, and she finally managed to relax. It was what it was, and if Katya decided to ignore her completely obvious note, then nothing would be able to change that.
The door swung open at ten, and Alaska wasn’t particularly prepared in her ridiculously pink pyjamas and no bra, for Willam and Katya to walk in. Katya looked like she had walked in on something she shouldn’t have seen, but Alaska was only slightly too eager, and Katya visibly relaxed.
“I brought home something for Alaska five-thousand to do while I steal Courtney. Fair trade, right?” Willam smiled, and Alaska would’ve been mad, but Willam was a fucking genius. Even if she could’ve done with a warning beforehand.
Before Alaska could object, Willam had pulled Courtney up and dragged her away to the bedroom, locking the door behind them and leaving her alone with Katya. Willam was one shady bitch.
“I promise was going to call you,” Katya said quickly, closing the door behind her before walking over. She looked awkward, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to touch anything. Alaska shuffled up on the seat, patting the cushion besides her.
“Yeah?” She smiled, watching Katya walk over and looking up at her. “If I had known you were coming back, I would’ve worn like… Actual clothes.”
“You look good, though. I’m living for the Hello Kitty shorts,” Katya laughed, shaking her head and glancing to the TV. “What are you watching?”
“I don’t know. It was Golden Girls, but then Courtney was bored, so we put on Kitchen Nightmares. I think she has a crush on the chef?”
“Probably. He has the same manly, hairy shoulders Willam does,” Katya deadpanned, and Alaska laughed ridiculously loudly. Once Alaska finished laughing, Katya turned to her and raised a brow. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go on a date. I could pick you up tomorrow at nine?”
“Okay,” Alaska nodded, pursing her lips. “Is there a dress code? Should I wear a jacket, or just a blouse?”
“I… I don’t know? You can wear whatever you want to,” Katya shrugged, very clearly staring at Alaska’s lips. “I personally love when my dates wear their scrubs. I love the nurse fantasy.”
“One time Trixie called me out for that,” Alaska said. “I told her I was going to a costume party with a girl, and she asked what I was going to be, and I said a nurse. And then she was like, oh, you’re a shitty nurse, because a medical professional would know to put clothes on when it’s snowing outside.”
“I can guarantee I’m not going to call you out if you turn up as a slutty nurse,” Katya said seriously. “I should probably go home. I’ve had a very busy day, dealing with Willam talking about fucking Courtney while I try to operate on someone.”
“Yeah, she does that. You should try living with them. It got worse when they got engaged, too. They don’t even try to be secretive about it, they just fuck all the time,” Alaska laughed, shaking her head. “Would you like me to walk you to your car?”
“It’s okay. I don’t want you to get sick before our date. You can take me to the door, if you really want to,” Katya said, and stood up. Alaska got up too, taking Katya’s hand and making the most of the ridiculously short walk to the door.
Katya kissed her as she was about to leave, and Alaska smiled for the rest of the night.
*
Work was weird after, but in the best way. Katya was definitely following her around, but Alaska didn’t let it distract her, and the kiss from the night before kept her going through the long clinic hours and the mass of paperwork she had to fill in between her regular consultations. Courtney and Willam both turned up late, but Alaska didn’t even mind. She even laughed when Katya texted her, something about how her name was almost a matching amount of characters, and replied with a smiley face and a kiss.
She took off for lunch ten minutes early, and practically ran down to the Starbucks down the road and ordered two hot chocolates. About five minutes later, the door swung open, and Alaska couldn’t help but smile.
“Beat you,” Alaska winked, and Katya looked embarrassed. She shook her head, and it looked like she was actually blushing. Alaska really couldn’t stop staring, even if she wanted to.
“I was going to get you coffee,” Katya said, defeatedly.
“Oh, I know,” Alaska laughed, handing her the second cup. “I just figured, I owe you at least two months worth of these, and I’d like to get a head start on that. If it’s not too much trouble. Now, do you prefer sushi, or are you more into hot food?”
“I really like the bones of dead animals.”
“Are - Are you serious?”
“Oh my god, no,” Katya laughed, and Alaska laughed too, more out of relief than anything else. “I like sushi. Let’s get sushi.”
“I like bones, but not as food,” Alaska nodded, and lead Katya the entire way to the next shop, buying her regular order twice over and not giving Katya the chance to pay. When Katya went to complain, Alaska just shook her head, smiling wider. “C’mon. If we go to your office, we won’t get Australia’s biggest food thief on our backs for at least ten minutes.”
“Okay. I’m paying for dinner, though. Tonight,” Katya said. She looked a little shocked, but didn’t voice any problems, so Alaska just grinned as they walked back and tried not to come off as too over-eager. She didn’t think Katya would mind if she was eager, but she didn’t want to ruin anything before the first date had even happened.
Katya was still reserved, and Alaska wasn’t really sure why. They had managed to waste four years being reserved and shy already. Even now, being able to see hints of Katya’s personality shine through, Alaska felt so much better.
“So,” Alaska said, biting her lip as she tried to think about the things in Katya’s office. There wasn’t much in there, other than books about medical practises, so she took a shot in the dark at a conversation topic. “I think American pop music is superior to European pop music.”
“Listen, that’s just unrealistic. Have you heard English pop music? It’s so good, they have so many sad vocalists. And the Russian music scene is so good, and besides -”
They started walking again, and Alaska nodded in understanding with every point Katya brought up. They made it all the way back to Katya’s office without any sign of Katya shutting up, and Alaska liked it, throwing herself onto the nice couch in Katya’s office and nodding and making all the appropriate noises.
It only took Katya another five minutes to realise what Alaska had done, and eyed her suspiciously. “You did that on purpose,” She said, sitting at her desk and getting out her own food.
“I think that Russian gymnasts are nothing compared to Brazil’s gymnasts. Or China’s gymnasts,” Alaska grinned, and Katya burst out laughing, shaking her head and waving her hand in the air as if it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. Katya lifted the little plastic fork she had, pointing it at Alaska accusingly.
“Shut up and eat your lunch, sleeping beauty,” Katya grinned.
They sat and ate in silence, and every time Alaska went to look at Katya, Katya was busy sneaking glances at her too. The second they were both finished, Alaska put the empty dish on the armrest and stretched out, declaring, “Lunch is over.” Katya looked up and smiled, and Alaska didn’t have to wait to take the hint, getting up and walking over and sitting on Katya’s lap, lacking the grace and dignity she wanted to have.
Katya opened her mouth to say something, wrapping her arms around Alaska to support her, but Alaska leant in enough that their lips brushed against each other and Katya’s mouth closed again. She tried to look up at Alaska, but she went cross-eyed in the process, and Alaska laughed hard, pulling away to properly react.
“What?” Katya pouted, holding her a little tighter when she realised Alaska was about to fall off of her lap, pulling her back in. “Not all of us normal people can be as graceful and beautiful as you, Alaska Thunder-fuck.”
“It’s not two words. It’s one. And it’s a joke, you should know that by now,” Alaska smiled, leaning back in and looking back down at her. It would’ve been more romantic if Alaska wasn’t the same height as a baby giraffe, but Katya wasn’t particularly picky, and she just shook her head.
“Not all of us are stoners, like you,” Alaska laughed again, but this time, she was quieter. She smiled a little more, leaning in, and Katya pulled back. “I have a consultation in ten,” she murmured, and her breath was hot against Alaska’s lips.
“That’s cool,” Alaska said, and Katya moved a hand up to Alaska’s hair, holding her without making the first move. Alaska wanted her to, but she wasn’t going to ask. After what Courtney had said to her, she knew she had to let Katya move at her own pace, otherwise she would never end up with her at all.
“Cool,” Katya nodded, and Alaska pulled back, getting up off of her lap and nodding. Katya nodded back, watching as Alaska left, her eyes full of desire. Alaska didn’t look back as she walked down the halls, but she could swear that Katya was watching.
*
“Alaska, girl, she’s seen you in your scrubs after refusing to sleep for like, three days. And she had sex with you, right? She’s seen you in those ugly Hello Kitty pyjamas, the ones which you can see your nipples through. I really don’t think it matters what you wear. Fuck, she probably even saw you after Sharon broke up with you, and if she still likes you after that, then you have a keeper,” Courtney said, splaying out on Alaska’s bed as Alaska ripped through her entire wardrobe in an attempt to find something.
“You don’t get it, it does matter,” Alaska muttered, staring at three different green dresses. All of them were absolutely disgusting, and completely inappropriate for a first date, and Alaska was halfway to a breakdown just looking at them. “It was different back then. I didn’t have a chance back then.”
“Alaska, you should know by now not to let societal expectations dictate and force you into anything you don’t want to wear. It’s misogynistic, and if Katya doesn’t get it, then -”
“Oh my god, Courtney, no,” Alaska said, shaking her head and throwing the dresses to the floor, and the growing pile of perfectly fine clothes. “Listen, it’s okay if you want to wear the same three hoodies and tennis skirts on your nights out, because you’re engaged. You’re starting to sound like Trixie, going on about how manicures are misogynistic.”
“Listen, you’re no fun,” Courtney pouted, staring up at her. “What about wearing something Willam has? It might be short on you, but she has some really nice stuff… There’s this one black dress I think would look really great on you?”
“Go get it,” Alaska said, and tried not to pick at her nails whilst Courtney dug it out. It had been worn a total of two times, had a designer label, and made Alaska’s body look extra good. She had ridiculously wide hips, but the dress made it look more like she had a thinner waist, and it definitely helped her feel better about herself. She nodded, looking at Courtney in the mirror and smiled wide. “This is perfect. Thank you, Fairy Oz Mother.”
“Oh my god, stop, Willam was talking about having kids, and I don’t wanna think about it. She can’t even keep a houseplant alive, I don’t know how the fuck she thinks she’ll be able to take care of a real living and breathing baby. I think I’m going to suggest we get a puppy instead,” Courtney nodded thoughtfully, stretching out on the bed. “You should wear the jewelry I got you for Christmas.”
“I’m going to! Is my hair okay? It’s not too flat right?” Alaska said, trying to pull her fingers through the mass of tangled hair and frowning, adding, “Is it overkill if I wear my white fluffy jacket for luck?
“Alaska, it’s never overkill to wear something for luck. You look good in literally anything, too, so,” Courtney said solemnly, so Alaska put it on, and she felt like a filmstar. “Your hair is fine. It’s never flat. Don’t forget to wear lipgloss, though.”
“Fuck,” Alaska mumbled, putting her kitten heels on and grabbing the lipgloss, applying it with a heavy hand and pocketing the tube for later, and then there was knocking on the door and it was five to nine and Alaska nearly fell over twice in her rush to say goodbye to Courtney and pick up her wallet and to answer the door, all in the same ten seconds.
When she did answer the door, Katya was wearing a knitted dress, and her hair was curlier than usual. She wasn’t sure what the fuck a knitted dress was supposed to mean, but she wasn’t about to shoot it down, especially when she looked so gorgeous in it. “You bitch,” Alaska said, opening the door wider.
“What?” Katya raised her brows, licking over her lips as she looked over Alaska. “I’m sorry I’m early. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“You’re wearing a knitted dress. Am I dressed too formal? I can go get changed, I have normal clothes, ones that don’t make me look like I robbed a Versace store -”
“Alaska, sweetheart, you look beautiful. You’re dressed perfectly. I just like this dress, and Trixie said she would kill me if I wore jeans on our first date,” Katya explained, and Alaska wasn’t particularly convinced.
“Okay, well… I need to change my jacket, because we’re clashing right now,” Alaska said, and then smiled.
“I don’t really think we clash,” Katya shrugged, following Alaska into the apartment as Alaska ripped off her jacket with some force and threw it to the ground, searching for a new jacket. “If we’re both wearing something with yellow tones, surely that means we match?”
“No, that’s worse. I really can’t - No, okay, this is a lesson for the second date, because fashion and colour-groups is too long for me to explain right now, but you need to know about it,” Alaska explained, settling on a pink jacket and pulling it on. Katya just laughed, shaking her head and leading Alaska out of her apartment, taking her hand and squeezing it as they maneuvered the stairs. Alaska was pretty sure it was already the best date she’d ever managed to have, even if she didn’t really know what was going on.
*
If Alaska had learnt one thing about Katya, it was that she had no idea how to plan a date. It was probably the worst date she had ever been on.
Katya took her to a restaurant where they only spoke Russian. She was completely overdressed, and she really should’ve settled on jeans and a t-shirt. She felt like a dumb bitch from the second she walked in, completely unable to understand anything, and even when Katya ordered for her, Alaska could see people staring at her. The only good part was that Katya got just as many judgemental looks, so they managed to match on that part. The waiter was ridiculously rude, and Alaska couldn’t figure out what he said, but she was pretty sure he was being homophobic.
The food wasn’t awful, but it was cold, and halfway through the meal, their conversation had managed to fizzle out entirely, and they both sat in silence listening to the Russian folk music playing over the speakers. This was definitely the kind of place Alaska never expected to be in, ever.
Katya must’ve realised how uncomfortable Alaska felt, because she nudged her with her foot under the table and smiled ever so slightly.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Katya asked, and Alaska lifted her head, giving Katya an ever so slightly desperate look of gratitude. Alaska went to pay, but Katya insisted, and Alaska wasn’t about to argue. Once they were back at Katya’s car, Alaska sat and watched Katya smoke, looking miserable. She threw the cigarette to the ground, putting it out with her shoe and looking back to Alaska. “I’m sorry, I thought… I sort of thought it would be really romantic?”
“It’s okay, Katya. It doesn’t matter,” Alaska mumbled, glancing down at her feet. “We can go back to mine and watch movies? And Willam and Courtney will probably be asleep by now, so you don’t have to worry about them.”
“But this was -” Katya paused, pocketing her lighter before staring directly at Alaska. “This was meant to be special. And make up for being like… Kind of creepy and stalkerish?”
“I don’t think you need to worry,” Alaska touched Katya’s kand lightly, looking up at her. “You pretty much saved my life. Even if it was kind of weird.”
Katya looked at her, eyes bright between dark lashes casting shadows against her skin. “I’m glad. You’re too pretty to die young,” she said. “Do you want to come back to mine?”
“Sure,” Alaska nodded, and Katya got back in and then they were driving.
After the silence had turned from awkward to comfortable, it was nice, Katya driving down empty roads. She had a nice car, with smooth handling and comfortable seats, and Alaska didn’t feel as anxious as she had before. She felt like she was in a movie, with the lights painting Katya’s face the end credits to a story that should’ve ended long ago. Katya was beautiful, and Alaska found herself reaching back over to touch her hand again, just as a reminder that everything was real. It was the happiest she’d been in years.
When Katya pulled the car into a parking lot, Alaska blinked sleep out of her eyes that she hadn’t realised had been there. After the extra shifts she’d been taking on, she’d found herself more exhausted than before, and the shift of light made her sit up straighter. By the time Katya had parked, Alaska was completely awake again, undoing the buckle of the seatbelt and tilting her head to look up at Katya.
Katya had leaned over, her face comfortably close to her. “Hi,” Alaska breathed, and Katya kissed the curve of her cheek, the corner of her mouth, and then her lips. Alaska moved into the kiss, tilting her head and smiling at the ghost of Katya’s fingertips on her jaw.
“You were falling asleep,” Katya said quietly. “Do you want me to take you home? You don’t have to come in with me.”
Alaska whined, shaking her head and pulling back. She stayed quiet, moving slowly and stretching once she was out of the car, sighing at the comforting click of her back. She followed Katya into the building, realising that she lived in the nice part of New York City, and was only slightly surprised. What surprised her more was the fact that Katya lived alone, and that most of her apartment was filled with Russian tchotchkes.
It looked less lived in than Alaska had expected, with everything clean and in place, but it was beautiful. There were windows filling the wall and showing off the view that Katya paid for, and it felt cold. Part of Alaska was expecting Trixie or Kim to appear from nowhere, or maybe Willam, and tell her this was all a fever dream. It didn’t come, no matter how hard she pinched herself.
“The view is so pretty,” Alaska mumbled, and Katya turned ever so slightly to smile at her, eyes bright. They were already close, and when Alaska leaned in, Katya met her halfway. The kiss was slow and everything Alaska wanted, and then Katya moved in closer and wrapped her hands around her, and Alaska sighed and opened her mouth and tilted her head so that Katya didn’t have to reach up as much.
It was cold in the living space, and Alaska didn’t care, even though there were blankets folded and left on the couch cushions, because she didn’t feel it when Katya was there next to her. It felt like they had finally done something right, as if they had a world of their own in the apartment, and no amount of wrong in the world could change the way Katya was breathing unsteadily against her and all of Alaska’s thoughts were focused on Katya. Katya’s mouth on hers, her fingertips playing with the blonde curls, Katya’s hands moving ever so slightly higher on her body.
Alaska pulled away eventually, glancing back out to the neon city and the life that they couldn’t see in the darkness of the night. “Okay,” she smiled, looking back to Katya. “This is really romantic.”
“Yeah?” Katya said, and nipped at Alaska’s bottom lip, kissing her as if it was the only thing she knew how to do. “We should probably watch a movie. Like you said. Have you ever heard of the movie Contact?”
“No, but I’m down to watch it,” Alaska mumbled, glancing over Katya’s swollen lips and her smudged lipstick and the rise and fall of her chest, biting her own lip. “Go put it on.”
*
Somewhere between Katya putting the movie on and Alaska deciding she didn’t have enough patience, they had managed to make their way back to Katya’s bedroom. Alaska had suggested that they went slow on their way to the bed, and Katya had managed to take it to heart, which Alaska regretted from the second they were naked, because nobody could go slow like Katya Zamolodchikova. If Alaska didn’t know better, she would’ve thought that the idea of being in charge got Katya off.
Alaska was embarrassed, because in her history of one night stands and dating, nobody had made her as desperate as Katya had. She whined and pushed back against Katya, while Katya licked her open, slow and unfair, holding onto her thigh like her hand was a vice. Alaska threw her head back against the pillow, whining, and said, “Katya, please,” and Katya just pulled away, because apparently sex was a game to her. Once Alaska was pouting, she moved back down, going down on her with a certain determination that Alaska was sure was a new form of torture.
At one point, Katya laughed, because she was evil and wanted Alaska to die, but everything got better the second that Katya moved to use her hands, pulling up to kiss her again. Alaska thought that this was where she wanted to be, if she had to pick anywhere, and she vaguely wondered if heaven could hear them breathing. Everything she had been taught as a child meant nothing, and it was almost as if she had closure from lying besides Katya, that it wasn’t as big of a deal as everyone had made it before.
If this was taboo, she was more than happy to share with Katya, and when she moved to return the favour, Katya kissed her like she meant it.
*
Bianca Del Rio, as it turned out, was actually a lot nicer than Alaska had originally thought. She was still terrified of her, but being in on the joke made it a lot easier to like her, and Katya’s friends slowly became her friends too. It was always uncomfortable when they were caught, though. Bianca stared like she wanted to kill them.
“I thought,” Bianca said, the voice echoing through the office and causing Alaska to pull away, glancing over. “I told you bitches to keep it in your pants. STDs aren’t cute, Alaska. You don’t know where Katya’s been.”
“I think I know where she’s been,” Alaska smirked, giggling when she turned back to see Katya blushing. “What’s up?”
“We’re going out for drinks on Thursday. I’ve been told I can invite you both, on the condition that you don’t make everyone else uncomfortable with your newfound and overbearing love,” Bianca said, staring up at Katya. “I’m sure you’ll see the text if you actually, y’know, look at your phone, dumb bitch.”
Alaska turned to reply, but Bianca was already gone. She was like a terrifying, anti-fun stepmother. Katya had moved back on her desk, swinging her legs a little awkwardly now Alaska had moved from between them.
“We aren’t that bad, are we?” Alaska asked, moving back and kissing her, completely ignoring what they had just been told and focusing on the comments on their supposed overbearing love. What the fuck did Bianca know about love?
“We’re fine. We are maybe a little bit disgusting, but that’s my gig. I’m 80% sexy, 20% disgusting.”
“I know. I’ve seen your search history,” Alaska deadpanned, and Katya laughed, shaking her head. Katya’s face changed entirely when she laughed, moving from the serious doctor to the med student that hadn’t quite yet been broken by capitalism, and Alaska loved it. Alaska thought that if she had seen Katya actually laugh in the past few months, she would’ve realised immediately, and everything would’ve happened a lot sooner. Katya’s eyes were like mirrors, and they showed everything she was thinking, including how they were entirely focused on Alaska, and hey, Alaska loved that too.
Alaska moved back to kiss her again, but stopped when she heard the door swing open again, expecting the worst. Instead, she heard Trixie groan, and said, “For god’s sake, do you guys never stop?”
Katya jutted her bottom lip out, looking over at her friend, and moved her hand to balance on the desk. Alaska thought it was sweet that Katya was shorter, even if she knew Katya was annoyed by it.
“Why do you hate me, Tracey? I don’t know why you won’t let me live my best life, you were the one who kept telling me to just ask her out,” Katya asked sadly, and Trixie rolled her eyes.
“You guys have to stop. You’re worse than Willam and Courtney, and they’re practically married,” Trixie said, shaking her head. “I don’t even know why you’re so happy. All that’s changed is that you admitted that you both had feelings, and now Katya wears clothes that don’t look like they were bought from the children’s section at Target.”
“That’s some shady shade,” Alaska laughed, before leaning in, kissing Katya again and curling her fingers through the messy strands of hair beside her ear. Behind them, Trixie made a gagging sound, coughing very loudly.
“Katya, surgery. We have surgery in literally like, five minutes,” Trixie groaned, trying not to sound as angry as she was. “Hurry the fuck up or I’m going to set Bianca and Michelle on you. I’m not kidding.”
She didn’t hesitate to slam the door on her way out. Alaska, full of good ideas, pulled away and batted her stacked lashes at Katya. “I know what we can do in five -”
“I have to go,” Katya smiled, and got down from the desk, pushing her hair back out of her face. “If you want to continue that thought in about an hour, I’ll be wandering the halls looking for my sexy nurse girlfriend.”
“I head home in an hour,” Alaska frowned, defeat spreading across her face.
“I know,” Katya said.
“But… Uh, maybe if you call me, I can let you in. I don’t want to wake the Belli-Acts.”
“Lasky, you’re exhausted. You need to go to bed, and I’ll see you tomorrow. We can manage one night apart,” Katya smiled, and Alaska pouted even harder. She hadn’t even been that exhausted, the clinic just annoyed her, and she was probably about to get disgustingly sick with the little amount of free time she had. When she refused to kiss Katya goodbye, Katya sighed, and pursed her lips. “Maybe I could come over tonight. But no sex, because I refuse to be the reason you have to take another nap in the staffroom. Okay?”
“Sounds perfect… I should really just get you a key,” Alaska smiled, and walked off, adding, “See you tonight.”
The rest of her shift was finishing off the last of her work, and then heading home with a sense of accomplishment that she had managed to last the entire day without feeling awful. She tried to help Willam and Courtney cook, but when it went terribly wrong, Alaska ordered takeout and covered the leftovers in case Katya decided she was hungry when she came over. She watched TV, settling on The Method after scrolling through the options of Russian subtitled shows on their cable subscription, and then bed.
When she was asleep, three hours in, she felt warmth against her and the familiar curves of Katya pressing up against her and mumbling goodnight, kissing just below Alaska’s ear before wrapping her arms around her. Katya held onto Alaska like if she didn’t, then she would disappear, and it made Alaska feel more at home than any lover she had ever had.
She lay in the dark and drifted back to sleep to the sound of their breathing, ignoring the way her head spun, and thought that this was where she wanted to be.
#alaska thunderfuck#katya zamolodchikova#trixie mattel#willam belli#courtney act#bianca del rio#katlaska#witney#hospital au#tw hospitals#comeapart#rpdr fanfiction#submission#saint in the city#lesbian au#smut
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Comics I read this week: 9/9-9/13
Hey all, here’s a smattering of some of the books I read this week. Some interesting issues out this week, but also some disappointments:
Saban’s Go Go Power Rangers #23
There were two driving forces behind my moral development as a child: Batman and the Power Rangers. It was more than a little disappointing to grow up and find out that you couldn’t just punch bad people and that solved things, but when Boom Studios started this Power Rangers comic, it reminded me of why I loved the Power Rangers in the first place.
I would definitely recommend this series to anyone who was a fan of the Rangers at any point, or who is looking for a good new Action book, but it comes with a caveat: This series is not easy to jump into, for 2 main reasons.
Though this is the better series, it’s not the first Power Rangers comic that Boom Studios currently has going, and unfortunately the first series goes further in depth on the larger Rangers Universe
The stories from each of the 2 Rangers books often reference or call back to elements from each other. This often means that keeping track of plot elements or continuity can get confusing between the 2 books if you’re not following along closely.
If you’re still interested in hopping into these comics, here would be the reading order I would suggest: start with this series (Go Go) for issues #1-20, as it covers the origins of the Rangers and their first year. Then start the mainline book, Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers. After you’re all caught up there, you should be good to jump back into Go Go without any issues, and can even hop between series with toooooo much confusion.
Into the actual meat of this week’s issue: while the mainline series is much more focused on a grander Sci-Fi narrative, this series has a lot of the “monster-of-the-week” feel of the show. That’s definitely on display in this issue, where action and monster bashing take center stage. But what this comic has over the show is character depth and long-term story telling. The characters in this comic feel fleshed out and are evolving like real people, and while it’s definitely still fun, it doesn’t skimp out on the drama either.
If you’re looking for a fun throwback to childhood with a little more emotional oomph for your mature soul, definitely give this book a go.
Justice League Odyssey #13
I’m genuinely surprised every time a new edition of this book comes out, cause I’m half expecting it to be quietly cancelled every other week. But hey, I’m not gonna complain, cause as much as the changes in art have been less than great, I’m still excited to see the Justice League Z-Team struggle with cosmic cleanup duty out in the Ghost Sector.
For anyone who hasn’t read this book and doesn’t feel like starting from the beginning, you could get away with hopping on now. It would be safe to say that the first 12 issues were the first arc of this comic, and that #13 is setting the groundwork for the second big arc. With the destruction of the Source Wall way back in No Justice, the Ghost Sector has been left as almost a wild-West out in deep space. If you’re a fan of Dex-Starr, Jessica Cruz and some other cosmic outcast characters, I’d hop on now and see if this book is for you.
For anyone currently reading this book, some minor opinions and SPOILERS AHEAD:
So Jess stayed dead for way shorter than even I thought. But hey, revival at the hands of the Omega Radiation that killed her only to be imbued with Omega Beam shooting fists seems almost poetic. I’m interested to see what the new cast of outcasts has to bring to the table in terms of opposing Darkseid and assaulting the Ghost Sector, especially now that our original team has been almost entirely converted into NEW New Gods. But it’s a welcome evolution of Jessica’s character to see her taking charge and leading a team, and more Dex-Starr in my life is always appreciated.
On a less story focused note, the art in this new ark is good so far, but man, fuck whoever did the flashback sequence with Cyborg. On a page with his face popping up at least 5 or 6 times head on, you couldn’t remember or decide if his cybernetic side was on the left or the right? It flip flops every panel so that it’s facing away from the reader. It’s overall a minor thing, but c’mon, it’s not hard to keep that straight.
The Flash #78
I’m just tired at this point.
The Flash’s mythos being re-written to have such an emphasis on the forces is just... really boring. The force users are pretty one-note characters and though Barry’s musings on life and trying to outrun Death are interesting, the rest of the chapter and this story arc haven’t been nearly as much. The art isn’t bad, but it’s not enough to save this title. If you’re gonna stick around for the Flash ride, have fun, let me know when it gets interesting again.
Young Justice #8
I think I mentioned it last week, but similar to Justice League Odyssey and the Terrifics, I think it’s a great idea for writers to take some of the smaller teams in the DCU out of the greater narrative and put them (effectively) in their own worlds. Better yet, Brian Michael Bendis seems to be having a ton of fun taking this young team on a multiverse-exploring adventure.
While his work with Alias and Daredevil are some of my favorite books, I think Bendis does his best work when writing younger heroes. He seems to understand how to write entertaining young characters while making them believable, and most importantly not making them grating.
If you need anymore convincing to get this series, and you maybe don’t fully trust Bendis after the pretty terrible years he’s had of late, then John Timms’ art should swing you. Timms has managed to strike a great balance between cartoonish modeling and dynamic action paneling which is difficult enough, but he’s also been switching up his art styles as the team goes from world to world. The guy is on top of his game right now and it’s perfectly complimenting Bendis’ universe-hopping story.
I don’t want to spoil this issue too much, but the team find themselves on Earth-3, the home of the Crime Syndicate, and face off against evil versions of themselves. While this issue was wall-to-wall action from the start, it managed to have some good character moments peppered throughout, and it looks like it might the start of the next micro-arc. This book has been great so far and only looks like it’s going to get better.
Batman Universe #3
I feel like I can’t judge this book fairly.
I love pop-art, I’m a sucker for a good Batman story, and lighthearted superhero stories are exactly what I need to breakup the self-serious tones of a lot of the other superhero books I read. This book by Bendis and Nick Derington hits every single one of those beats.
If you’re looking for a self-serious Batman book you’re looking in the wrong place; but if you’re looking for a book where Batman jokes with Green Lantern about how much he likes dinosaurs before being transported through time, then you’ve got a lot of fun ahead of you.
On a side note, DC put a huge amount of faith in Bendis giving him this series, Action Comics, Superman, Naomi and Young Justice. Aside from the main Superman book, which has been horrendous in every sense of the word, he’s been writing some of the best stuff he’s done in years. Not quite on par with his Daredevil or Ultimate Spider-Man runs, but still some really great stuff.
Detective Comics #1011
Last we left the Caped Crusader, he and a bunch of his billionaire friends were stranded on an island, with Bruce teamed up with a pair of crotchety WWII fighter pilots and his rich friends held captive by Deadshot. Basically we’re in a “Deadliest Game” scenario with Batman and Deadshot hunting each other on a remote island. It’s kind of like all the parts of “Arrow” that people have told me are actually good. I don’t know, I haven’t watched that show, it looks like hot garbage.
Anyway, this 2-issue story was always just a stop-gap while Mr. Freeze (or the writers) figured out how to use the new technology boost from Lex Luthor. While I always appreciate a visit from Deadshot, as he’s one of Batman’s more under appreciated villains in my opinion, this story was pretty paint by numbers. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t fun, just that it was always the stuff coming next that felt more compelling.
Event Leviathan #4
This book has been pretty interesting so far, but seems to have the fanbase pretty divided. I’ve seen a lot of comments on the latest issue claiming that nothing has actually happened in this story so far, and that we’re just watching Bendis spin his gears in search of a story. Maybe I’m a sucker for a good noir, but I would say that this story has had its share of action at the start, but unlike a lot of comics, it’s a slow burn story. I’m not nervous yet, as Bendis has experience with noir and has shown he can do it well.
I’m not saying that this book doesn’t have its problems: the art, while objectively impressive, is hard to parse out the details in some of the darker scenes with all of the texture filters thrown over it. Similarly, though I have faith that Bendis has an idea where this story is going, the last issue didn’t really make a ton of sense (until a little later in this issue, but at the time it wasn’t wholly believable).
Batman #78
It seems that so many people have soured on Tom King at this point that I’m in the minority saying that I’m still enjoying his run on Batman. I’m not saying it hasn’t been without its faults, I was gutted just like everyone else when issue 50 came out and tore a chance at tangible change in the Bat-universe out from under us fans. But King’s writing and storytelling, though self-indulgent at times, has been largely good and in clear pursuit of a single goal: to tell the story of Batman being broken, like he’s never been broken before.
As fans we need to remember that the man was handed the reins to 100 issues of Batman and said he was going to tell 1 story. Not an event that would inform the rest of his run, but 1 singular story told over 100 issues. It was a herculean task and it was always going to be a slow burn, but we’re in the endgame now with City of Bane in full swing and Batman just beginning to look up from the pit he’s fallen in. He’s been physically and emotionally broken, shamed himself in front of his family and been discredited amongst his peers, and ultimately forced out of his own city. So let’s see the way back.
Ok, so this wasn’t a bad issue, but it wasn’t the right issue. I’m a huge fan of how Tom King has written Bat/Cat, and when combined with Clay Manpi’s art and paneling this issue feels like I’m watching a classic James Bond movie. But while watching Bat/Cat reconcile their issues that originally tore them apart was long overdue and felt great, this was not the right time for this issue.
After being left on the cliffhanger of Damion being captured and ALFRED POTENTIALLY KILLED, seeing Bat and Cat talking at an island retreat was just too far removed and casual. This has probably been the biggest issue I’ve personally had with King’s run: timing. But it seems like it’s all kicking off in the next few issues, so let’s see where this all finally ends.
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