“A little higher,Python!” calls Genny from where she perched on her neighbor’sshoulders. “I’ve almost got her!” The branches of the lone treeon their street brush her face as she reaches up into the leaves.
—
She had been headedhome from her overnight shift, cool morning breeze tugging on herscrubs and making her shiver, when she’d heard a rustling in the onetree on her street that had managed to survive despite thequestionable conditions. Squinting tiredly up through the leaves,she’d spotted a fuzzy gray blob and sighed. “Again, Mrs. Pickles?”
The tree rustled inresponse and Genny looked around for someone to help her. By herselfshe wasn’t tall enough but maybe… across the street she spottedPython, sitting on his stoop smoking a cigarette. Genny wrinkled hernose a bit, she really didn’t like the smell… but she was showeringas soon as she got home so it didn’t matter.
It took a coupletries to get his attention, she was quiet normally and with how tiredshe was, well, it couldn’t be helped that her voice wasn’t very loud.When Python looked up she waved him over, calling out, “I thinkMrs. Pickles is stuck in the tree again. Could you give me a boost soI can get her down?”
“Mrs. who?”Python ground out his cigarette and ambled over, squinting up intothe tree.
“Mrs. Pickles, mylandlord’s cat.” Genny explained. “She gets out sometimes andlikes this tree.”
“Not like she hasmuch of a choice for trees,” drawled Python with a pointed look attheir barren street.
It’s not thatbad, thought Genny, immediatelyfollowed by, no, its that bad. At one point in time,trees had lined the strip of dirt that ran down the center of thestreet, but now there was only the one, growing up through a missingflagstone in the sidewalk. Kind of sad, really.
Anyway, that wasn’timportant.
“Could you pleaselift me up so I can grab her? I’m not tall enough to do it on myown.” Genny tilted her head and looked thoughtfully at Python.“Actually, it would probably be easier if I just sat on yourshoulders.”
—
Which is how thetwo found themselves in their current predicament.
“Would you hurry,kid? You ain’t exactly light.” grouses Python.
Genny shoots himan unpressed stare then rolls her eyes. “Please, I weigh maybeone-ten soaking wet. Honestly, for your health you should be able tolift…” She breaks off with a frustrated huff. “Come here,you stupid cat!”
More rustling emanates from the tree and Genny freezes on Python’sshoulders. “Python,” she says slowly, “I don’t think this isMrs. Pickles.”
Python almost asks who the fuck it is then, when a violent hissingnoise breaks the stillness and Genny shrieks, flailing backwardsbefore clutching at Python’s head in a desperate bid not to fall onthe hard cement.
Unfortunately, thisaction sends them both sprawling, landing hard. Just behind them,falling from the tree, is the fattest, ugliest, meanest possum eitherof them has ever seen. It hisses at them again before scuttling offinto the nearest alleyway.
“Goddamn it,Genny.” groans Python, sitting up and checking himself for injury.“That definitely wasn’t Mrs. Pickles.”
Genny, face pinkwith embarrassment, punches him in the arm.
Another fic thing: Phasma sings to Techie, please?
Some Kind of Punk Singer AU (?)
Phasma struts onstage in her full, silvery chrome regalia and gives the audience the finger. “You little shits ready to scream?” The crowd loses their minds at having their queen before them, and Techie, so far in the back of the concert hall that all he sees are the flashing lights and fog, tries to wave frantically at Phasma. He’d gotten stolen tickets for cheap on the deep web and hoped with all his heart that she’d notice him!
And if he was near invisible at the moment, well, that didn’t matter. Techie had a plan!
He pulled out the handmade sign, a stark white rectangle with “PHASMA FOREVER” written with brilliant christmas lights and surrounded by silver glitter. Techie flips the little switch in the back and the sign glows like a beacon in the dark. Grinning to himself, Techie waves it back and forth amongst the sea of screaming fans. It overshadows all the other, smaller signs for sure. Now all he has to do is cross his fingers and hope Phasma glances his way.
In the middle of the song, she cuts herself off and squints in his direction. “What the fuck is that?” she asks, pointing wildly towards his seat. Techie stands up as straight as he can, on tip toes, and waves it harder!!
Phasma takes the mic and yells, “Bring ‘em up!” Suddenly, Techie is being shoved towards the stage until he’s right at the front row, gaping up in shock at his idol, who grabs him by a skinny arm and drags him up onto the stage.
“I like the look of this one!” she grins, and sings the rest of her song directly to his face. He’s going to go deaf but it will be worth it!
For the Drabble thing uh 150 is Make up your own up to you or me? Um if it's the latter could I possible get a shippy Gabe and Ivor thing? like gabe saying "You work too hard, take a break" or something? I love your writing and it's nice.
(( WOW THIS IS SUPER LATE, Sorry to keep you waiting for what now, a year? anon. But here it is, the Gabriel/Ivor Fic or the Enchanted Sword fic.))
There it was again, the same shattering sound of glass and the small shards hitting against the table and Ivor’s various vials he kept close by. It’s funny how even after all these years Gabriel still managed to have an ear for what sounds where what when it came to Ivor and his potions, then again when it’s followed by the Achemist’s cursing it solidifies that something has gone awry. Well, the ‘cursing’ was something in a language that Gabriel didn’t rightly understand, but he assumed if Ivor switched it up from the common tongue that it most likely was a curse. Regardless of what his lover spoke, he could still tell from the tone that it wasn’t good. With that he moved to knock on the faded oak door and hesitated before turning the nob and opening the door. The room itself opened up into seemingly perpetual darkness, Ivor has always had a bad habit of working in the dark. Last Gabriel remembered it’s because Ivor said it ‘helped him concentrate’ but Gabriel knew it was just the others excuse for not turning on the lights and being at that work table for too long; another thing he disliked about Ivor’s work was the fact he stayed up too late and nearly destroyed that room on occasion. Feeling up the wall till he found the slider switch for redstone lamp, he watched as the room slowly illuminated to show Ivor angrily shoving some broken vials off his work surface and to the floor. Perking a brow to all the broken glass haphazardly tossed to the floor in a more than alarming pile, Gabriel made his way over to Ivor and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You do know i’m not going to be the one to clean this up, yeah?” Gabriel said as his eyes wandered over the desk to see if he could guess at what Ivor was working on, but nothing other than the regular potions and vials lay there seemingly untouched by his Alchemist. “Gabriel please I’m working, and yes I know you’re not going to clean this up, I wouldn’t let you anyways due to the contents that were swirling inside. Well were, anyway.” With a defeated sigh ivor moved to grab another empty bottle from the shelf just above his work station, and placed it on a hot plate drenched in a variety of colours from past potions. "So what are you working on? I can probably guess something impossible as always as you’re typically like this when things are giving you trouble. Another Hybrid potion? or maybe some new healing potions or something?“ He said moving to lean against the table and make it known he wasn’t going to leave so easily without some explanation to what the other was up to. Be it as it may that ivor is extremely skilled in potions, Gabriel still worried the other was going to get seriously injured, and he always wanted to know what he was up to just in case.
Sure, he worried more than he should but given Ivor’s past potions that once left him blind for a few days to ones that made his limbs invisible for a time. It just had him extra cautious as he wanted to be ready to help when he could, being a warrior and savior of people wasn’t and easy job, neither was baby-sitting ivor, but being both in one sitting was exhausting, both mentally and physically. Gabriel knew Ivor knew this, and appreciated it when the Alchemist took breaks and even offered to have dinner together,and maybe nap for a little while with the him. Those moments made Gabe feel at ease.Hearing the snap of Ivor’s fingers he was brought back into the moment. “Hm? sorry.” He smiled sheepishly as he did tend to go into his head like this. Again, Ivor knew this and shot him an annoyed glance before shaking his head in and turned to face him fully. “I’m not working on a 'hybrid-potion’ or any healing potions, I’ve lost my patience to really deal with those two right now. But no, i’m working on a potion that can accelerate plant growth. It sounds simple but it isn’t. Any time I go to introduce it to plant-life it reacts negatively and either explodes or kills the plant almost instantly. Though as much as it frustrates me it is interesting to see it kill the plant like fire, that is something to note. But it’s beginning to get on my nerves by just how many bottles it’s destroyed.” He growled somewhat as he motioned to the gathering of glass on the floor. "Regardless, I don’t need you in here distracting me.“ Ivor motioned to the door as he really just wanted to get this damned thing to work and gloat about how he was able to do it to the local farmers of Endercon Village, or whatever it was called. You know, he really should get the name of this place. After all he has been living here enough to see a good few years of holidays, adventures, and well a relationship with Gabriel. Hearing the purpose of this potion was enough to make Gabriel relax for the most part, his shoulders slouched in a more casual manner as he looked down to Ivor and smirked seeing his shooing. "Mkay, fine. But I’ll be checking up on you from time to time, and calling you downstairs for dinner. I’m making your favorite, Veggie sir fry with some potatoes on the side.” He said hopeful to coax him out of this room and downstairs to actually eat today. For a moment Ivor’s face fell into a sigh before it lit up with an amused smile. “You do realize you can eat meat around me Gabriel, just due to my vegetarianism doesn’t mean you cannot eat meat anymore.” He pointed out, even though they’ve been together for three years he still felt the need to express this. “I know, but it’s the veggies that actually get your string bean butt downstairs to actually eat for once, and since we’re on the topic of you getting out of this room; how about we go out tomorrow for a jog or maybe even just for a walk . You know how I feel about you up in your little tower for so long, makes me wonder if I will come up here to find you’ve turned into some creature of the dark and never see my handsome Ivy, sleep deprived boyfriend again.” He smirked as he stood upright from leaning against the desk in favor of crossing his arms. “Gabriel you know I hate that nickname, but only a little less when you say it. I’ll think about tomorrow, okay?.” There was a paused as ivor shifted things around on his desk before turning back to Gabriel. “I’ll be down for dinner, I enjoy your cooking when everything isn’t burnt.” He smirked before shooing him. “I promise i’ll be down.” He kept his attention to Gabriel as he did need a break from staring at his own hands for hours on end. “You promise? fine. but if you’re not downstairs you’re going to have to worry about a lot more than the broken glass on your floor.” It wasn’t much of a threat in Gabe’s eyes but enough to get the Alchemist to nod and shift in his chair. With that he did leave Ivor be and went back downstairs. Hell, going up and down these stairs so frequently was a work out in itself, Gabriel and Ivor weren’t young men anymore, both were at least heading into their 60’s and old bones still rattled with soreness every now and again.But hey at least their looks never faded, he guessed that was a good thing though he’d rather it be reversed where he was still an agile young thing. Ivor was always old at heart as he had 'bad knees’ and typically lived like he was already 60 back then, but as he is now he looks to be the same minus his hair having a fading variety of blacks and greys. It was obvious they were both much older as they shared similar hair colouring and fading, but both were referred to as 'grandpa’ by the members Order of the stone’s kids. Though being able to tell the stories of the past to the kids was a nice touch to being old, how amazed they were at their adventures and even more so when they were told stories about their own parents.The thought alone made Gabriel smile as he made his way off the last step and quickly into the kitchen to prepare dinner. As he cooked he could hear the indescribable rage from upstairs, he chuckled a bit at it to be honest. As experienced as he was with potions and even 'magic potions’ or whatever he called them, times like this when potions gave him issues were pretty funny. His made was pulled back into reality as the smell of almost burning the veggies made him focus more so on both not burning the food, and not burning their home down. The time came when Gabriel set the table, and dished out their respective servings of Veggies that he figured the other was still busied in his work. With an annoyed sigh leaving his throat in a huff, he moved to climb the stairs up to Ivor’s little lair and without knocking opened the door. Surprisingly enough the lights were still on and his lover was unsurprisingly still at his work table. hurriedly made his way over, Gabriel checked his lover out to make sure he was still breathing and not doubled over dead . His relief came in the rise and fall of Ivor’s chest as it seemed the work was indeed too much for him as he was fast asleep. Thankfully away from the hot-plat that was still on, He of coursed promptly turned it off and pushed it as far away from Ivor as he could, just in cased he moved in his sleep. Moving again he opened a small closet area in the corner of the room and pulled out a spare blanket, this has occurred so often that Gabriel began to stock the closet full of pillows and blankets. He draped the heavy blue blanket over Ivor and moved to brush his hand through the others hair before leaning down and giving his head a quick peck. “You work too hard.” He smiled as he softly rubbed the others back and moved to dim the lights and head downstairs to go and have dinner.
Almost a week had passed since my latest birthday celebration. Everything had returned to a routine, as it ought to. I exercised, ate, went to work, toyed with the politicians, and returned home to a warm house with good food and a quiet evening, during which I nurtured my fine intellect with books and articles. Tonight, I was reading the latest peer reviewed medical journal available in Berlin. As I set it down and picked up my brandy to digest the last article, a separate thought came to my brilliant mind. My eyes narrowed, as I stared at the fireplace and contemplated it.
That boy ought to be taught a lesson for such gross defiance towards me. His continued cockiness needed to come to an end. How dare he debase my name and legacy for his mere childish whims. But, the days were gone when I could order him to bed without supper, or give his hands a firm whack to make them red. Perhaps, if I had done it more, he would have turned out better. Alas. This lesson needed to be carefully plotted, and carried out over time. It would be slow, but I could wait. I would grind him into the dust and rebuild a better man out of the new clay, one who could sit at my side faithfully and follow my every word.
I sipped the cognac slowly and a smile formed on my lips. There was still one child who revered me as she should. Although she too left much to be desired in her decision-making, she did at least honor me with obedience and submission. She was ever so useful when played right. A little affection and attention, and she would follow me everywhere, as faithful as my own dog.
I set the liquor down and picked up my phone to call her. It rang thrice before she picked up.
“Dr. Liliane Beilschmidt speaking,” she said, her voice seemingly calm, but in the way that a deer seems calm as it grazes while listening for the hunter.
“Gilbert Beilschmidt speaking,” I replied, keeping it proper.
“Hello, sir,” she said, and then she waited for my response. I would waste no time in giving it.
“Child, I am calling to invite you to dinner this Saturday. Meet me at Hugo’s at 20:00.”
She didn’t respond right away. No doubt her jaw had dropped in surprise and she was blinking as she took it in. I waited patiently as the little creature comprehended my outstretched hand.
“This Saturday? At 20:00? At Hugo’s?”
I said nothing. She had heard me just fine. Perhaps she would have to rearrange her plans. But she would not miss this.
“Is…someone else coming? Is there an occasion?”
I was quick to reprimand her, but gently. “Can a father not wish to have a pleasant evening with his daughter? Does he need an occasion to do so?”
“O-oh, no, of course not, sir. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…of course I will be there. I am looking forward to it.”
“Naturally.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, sounding almost breathless.
The corner of my lip curled up. “Think nothing of it. Good night, child.”
“Good night, sir.”
I hung up. My smile remained. The little creature was curled up in the palm of my hand, and I could do as I pleased. She would not even dream of biting the hand feeding her now, even as it closed around her.
I phoned the restaurant next. Naturally, they were able to reserve a table for two for me, and with a nice view too, in such short notice. Of course, it helped to have a name like mine to throw around. Beilschmidt. It was a powerful name, meant to be respected throughout the ages. If only the rest of my family understood the responsibility that came with it.
When Saturday evening came, I put on a fine Prussian blue suit and drove to the hotel where the restaurant is located. I made sure to arrive ten minutes before our scheduled meeting, of course. And I was pleased to see that she was already there, waiting for me in the lobby. I observed her as she approached me. She wore a knee length dress that was navy blue. (She always wore a dark blue dress for me, but only sometimes got exactly the right hue.) She had decided to compliment it with a silver belt and heels, and silver jewelry. Together, we would be a pleasant sight to behold.
She stood straight at attention when she reached me, and smiled cautiously as she waited for my greeting. I wondered to myself how long she had been waiting for me, and if she had worried that I wouldn’t come.
“Good evening, child,” I said, allowing myself to have a small smile upon my lips.
“Good evening, sir,” she said, her voice soft, like she still couldn’t believe this was occurring.
I gestured with my free hand towards the elevator, and we walked to it. Our ride up to the 14th floor was silent, in a pleasant kind of way. Although she glanced at me several times, she wouldn’t speak unless I did first.
We exited the elevator (I allowed her to go first, of course) and walked to the restaurant entrance side-by-side. I gave my name to the host, and we were escorted to our table. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye as we approached it, and could see her face light up as she saw the view of my city from the window we were next to. She, at least, could understand the importance and the beauty of my legacy.
As we sat, I glanced at the aperitif menu. “We’ll have the Antica Formula Carpano,” I said to the waiter.
He nodded dutifully. “Excellent, sir. And I see you’ve ordered our eight course meal with the wine pairings. I’ll have that started for you right away.” He took our menus and disappeared into the back of the restaurant. He returned shortly, with two glasses of the vermouth I had ordered on a tray. It was not until he had set them down and left again that I acknowledged the girl’s astonished look.
“Is this your first time in this restaurant?”
“No, not exactly.”
“Then what, pray tell, is your look of amazement for, my dear?” I said as I lifted up my glass to examine the wine. I smelled it, drank some, and found it to be good.
“I, ah…I was not expecting all this, sir. I mean, that you invited me here, and ordered us the full menu.”
“Would you expect me to do anything less than the best?”
“No, no, of course not. Ah, that’s not what I meant. I apologize. I only meant…” She fumbled with her words. I raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to continue. She glanced at me, then stared at her wine. “I only meant,” she said, clearly trying to sound as careful as she could, “that I…that this is so unexpected. It’s been a long time since you last took me out to dinner, and it wasn’t quite as expensive. And I’m sure I haven’t earned this,” she said, almost mumbling the last part.
I stared at her. She looked at me, and then looked away again, unable to hold my masterful gaze. She sipped from her glass.
Perhaps this had been in haste. Perhaps I should have warmed her up to the idea at first, with a smaller token of affection. But I was nothing if not clever, and I knew my child well.
I cocked my head to the side. “Perhaps you haven’t quite yet,” I said quietly, and slowly. “But perhaps you may soon enough. I have paid close attention to you and your brothers lately, and I must say, you are the only one who is putting in any real effort to be worthy of the Beilschmidt name. The other two are frivolous, and degenerate. They have brought shame to me.”
I could see her brow creasing. She had the look of wanting to argue, but not daring to. However, I welcomed the challenge. It would be good to know just where she stood, and how much work I had in front of me to mold her just right.
“What is it you wish to say, girl? I give you permission to speak your mind.”
She took a sip of her wine, no doubt to buy herself time and form her words. Then, she spoke softly. “I…I don't believe Ludwig and Alex are frivolous, sir. They work hard for their money, and do not put themselves in great debt. And if they are degenerate, would I not be as well? I go to clubs. I sleep around when I'm not dating exclusively.”
I did not respond right away, but stared at her. She backed down from my gaze again. I then sighed, hummed for a second, and allowed myself a little smile. She would have to be broken to my will as well, but that was no problem. I enjoyed the thrill of bending a stubborn horse to my will, and she was less than that. She reminded me of a skittish little bird, trying to approach my hand for the seed, but not ready to sit upon my palm just yet.
“Well, you are not wrong about yourself, my dear. You have a long way to grow. But, is that not what a father is for? You have often made poor decisions in your life, but you have also listened to me far more than your brothers. You have shown a willingness to learn and follow me. It's for this reason that I have chosen to invest more time in you. You are my city, and you always have been. You are my daughter too. I see it as a duty to nurture and guide you to a better future. But you must listen to me and follow me. That is your duty. Can you fulfill it?”
I had seen a change in her eyes as I spoke. A certain kind of eager light sparked in them. My little bird hopped closer to my hand.
“I am…very honored, sir. I truly am. I will listen to you, and follow your advice.” She smiled at me, and I smiled in return.
Just as we had each finished our aperitif, the waiter came with the caviar course and a wine for it. I waited until he had departed to speak again. I gestured to the window. “Look out there, dear. What do you see?”
She turned her head to look. A fond smile came to her face. “I see my home. I see my heart. I see me. I see 3 million people, full of life and hope for the future. I see their hearts beating, and mine beats with them.” She looked back at me. “What do you see, sir?”
I looked out the window now. “I see strength, my dear, and a resilience like no other on earth. I see a grand capital, built from nothing, and on occasion, torn down to nothing, yet always rebuilt. I see a flourishing, pulsing heart that refuses to die, no matter what the world says.” My eyes met with hers. I could see her taking in my every word, as she should. “You must learn to truly respect that and love it as I do. You must learn to care for it properly. This city is meant to be a leader, and you must grow into that role. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“Good. That is my first lesson for you. Now, let us enjoy the fine food before us.”
We each partook of the food carefully, as it was meant to be enjoyed. I savored the salty flavor of the Imperial Caviar. As I did, I looked out the window again. This city was my heart, regardless of what the world said now. And I would not see it fall to depravity, just as I would not see the nation I had built crumble to foolishness. It was infuriating to see that my legacy could be tarnished and thrown away by a mere boy. But at least with the girl in front of me, I had some hope of reversing that.
We didn’t speak as we ate. I enjoyed that about her. She let a man have his thoughts in peace, instead of demanding his attention all the time. The next course came, a piece of salmon with sauce and vegetables, and that was when I spoke again.
“How long has it been since you’ve gone riding?”
She seemed surprised by my sudden question, and took the time to swallow before answering. “A while, I think. Maybe last summer. And it was in America.”
“Ah, so, those awful Western saddles then.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want you to come riding with me next weekend.”
Another look of surprise from her. It was almost a wonder that her face didn’t get stuck like that sometimes.
“Really? I mean…I am honored, sir. But…won’t it be too cold?”
“Nonsense. It will keep us from being too warm. And the horses need exercise. They cannot simply stand idly in a barn all winter, now can they? We shall go, you and I. There is a lodge within riding distance that we may dine at before returning. Meet me at my house next Saturday at 5:30 sharp, if you do not wish to drive to the stables yourself.”
“Yes, sir. I shall be there. Do you want me to bring anything, other than my riding outfit?”
“No. I will see to everything else.”
“Yes, sir. I am looking forward to it.”
Another pleasant silence fell between us as we finished the second course. The third came, the pork knuckle, and we ate that in silence too. She was gazing out the window for much of it, and I could tell that she was contemplating something. No doubt I would hear about it before the end of the evening. And, after the fourth course came, I was proven right.
“May I ask a question, sir?” she said, her voice quiet, like she was afraid of angering me. But I am not so quick to anger as what she imagined.
“Of course.”
“I am only wondering, and I hope I do not offend by asking, but why are you taking more of an interest in me now?”
Ah, she was clever. But of course, no child of mine could be utterly stupid.
I tilted my head up and gazed down at her with a raised brow. She tried to look up at me, but ultimately failed, and looked down at her plate. “Look at me, my child,” I said, and she forced herself to look up again.
“There comes a time in a father’s life when he must reflect on how he has raised his children. And, although I do not believe I have ‘failed’ you, as some weaker fathers may think of their own performances, I do believe there are areas for improvement, as there are in any job to be done. I have contemplated the past, the present, and the future. And I have come to the conclusion that the present must be fixed in order to secure the future. I am not one to repeat myself, but it is, as I have said, clear that you are the only one of you and your siblings, who is willing to listen and learn in order to improve herself. I have found you to be worthy of my investment.” I drank some of my wine, and then continued. “Do not take this to mean that I am growing weak or older. Far from it. It is only that I wish to see a capital worthy of my name and legacy. Does that answer your curiosity?”
Her eyes were wide and bright as she nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” The little bird had stepped onto my hand. I had only to move cautiously now, so as not to alarm her, as I secured my grip.
The fifth course came, a lobster in curry sauce, and we ate quietly. We were both content to look out the window for now. As the sixth came, I noticed her attention shifted to the other diners around us. She was studying them, though she kept it subtle, so as not to be caught staring at anyone. Ah, my little spy. Of course. Like a well-trained hunting dog, she could not turn off her instincts entirely. I allowed her this habit without comment.
As the seventh course arrived, the Wagyu fillet, I spoke again. “Have you considered returning to school?”
She did not answer right away, but cut into her beef slowly, methodically even. “I have. But I do not know yet what I would study. There are many areas of interest to me.”
I was pleased by her answer so far. Naturally, my daughter should have curiosities in many subjects. But I would need to guide her, to strengthen my own investment. She might have an immortal’s life, but I wouldn’t see it wasted on frivolous subjects.
“What areas interest you?”
“Oh, well…the sciences, mostly. Maybe something like medicine?”
I couldn’t resist as the corner of my lip twitched up. How pleasing it was to hear that she, too, found the subject of medicine to be enthralling. But, I needed her efforts elsewhere right now. There would be time to let her revisit medicine or the other sciences later.
“Medicine is a fine pursuit. Perhaps one day, I might teach you what I know of it. But, have you ever considered law?”
“I…have, actually. Do you suppose it would be better to study that first?”
“Oh most certainly,” I said, seizing upon this opportunity like an eagle snatching an unaware rabbit. “It would be most useful to you and your position, I believe.”
“I see. But which area of law? There are so many.”
“There are. But you would not need to choose so soon. You would first study the basics of law, and then you can specialize. And we can discuss what that should look like when the time is right. If you are prepared to follow through with this, I will personally finance it.”
She halted in slicing her beef and stared up at me with wide eyes. “You will?”
“I shall. So long as you stick to your studies faithfully, I will fund it. You will have to take on less work to do well, and I will compensate you for that. You will not have to pay me back monetarily so long as you complete a law degree. Consider it a fatherly investment.”
Her eyes shone. She looked as though she wished to embrace me. I was glad of the social setting and my own past discipline with her that prevented it. But, I was glad to see it too. I could slowly close my hand around the little bird, and she would not resist. In time, she would even embrace the new cage.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, almost breathlessly. “If I pursue it, I will not disappoint you. I will stay true to it, and I will excel at it.”
“I have no doubt that you will, my dear. If I did, I would not make the offer.”
“I will let you know which universityI choose soon.”
I nodded once in agreement. I raised my glass. “To higher education.”
“To higher education,” she said, clinking her glass with mine carefully. We drank to it.
She didn’t stop smiling as we ate, and I maintained a pleasant expression of my own, even as the final course came. I am not usually a man for desserts. I prefer to not overindulge in the sweet things. However, this was not overly sweet, and I was in such a pleasant mood with my success tonight, that I was able to enjoy it.
I paid for the bill with cash, naturally, and then the two of us remained seated, enjoying the last of our wine. Just as I thought we might leave, she spoke.
“I don’t know how I can thank you for this, sir. For the dinner, and for your, ah, investment in me.”
“Simply promise to not disappoint me, dear. If you follow me, you will go far, and I will consider that a repayment.”
She nodded. “I promise, sir, to follow you and listen to you. I will not disappoint.”
“Good. Now, let us leave and retire to our own homes. It is late.”
“Yes, sir.”
We exited the restaurant and the hotel it was in. We walked towards our cars, which were parked near each other. My cane tapping on the ground was the only sound until we reached her vehicle.
“Good night, sir. I look forward to our ride on Saturday. I will be at your house by 5:30, I promise.”
“Good night, dear.”
She smiled one last time at me, and then got into her car. Once the door had shut, I continued walking towards mine, not looking back as she turned it on and drove away. I sighed contently as I entered mine. I could toast to myself. Tonight had been a success. I would sleep well.
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Dredd (2012)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Clan Techie/Matt the Radar Technician
Characters: Clan Techie, Matt the Radar Technician, Armitage Hux, Thanisson (Star Wars)
Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Mental Institutions, Nurses, Nurse/Patient, Pining, Recovery, kylux adjacent, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Series: Part 2 of The Sunlight Hour
Summary:
Techie's only company seems to be misery these days, and so Matt takes it upon himself to help his charge experience what wonders the world of the Psych Ward has to offer. Not all that happens next is ethical.
[The door he leaves open a crack, enough for light to stream in once the sun rises. Matt watches his patient’s face until it slackens in sleep, peaceful. William Huxley is still the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, even sweaty with terror and looking a bit green. Matt swallows hard. He’s absolutely fucked.]
So let’s just call it “Loki vs. Scarlet Witch” for now. Enjoy. :P (Standard content warnings for general superhero/magical violence, spoilers for Thor: The Dark World, mentions of death, knives being present, mind reading/mild mind control, and vaguely creepiness.)
Loki liked to think that, in all the nine realms, he had the market cornered on magic. After all, whether he was called Asgardian, Jotun, a god, or even an alien, he was anything but human. In the many, many years he had roamed the cosmos, he had only ever known one person with magical abilities to rival his own; the woman that, for all intents and purposes, was his mother: Queen Frigga.
She had taught him everything he knew, from a young age. She had seen his potential from the very beginning, and she had been the only one willing to give him a chance to thrive. Though many knew that Loki had surpassed his mother’s abilities as he grew older, in his mind, Frigga would always be the superior sorcerer.
But now, she was gone. Snatched from the realms too soon at the hands of Kurse, now ascended to join the ranks of the most honored of the departed in Valhalla.
Loki, too, should have died by Kurse’s hand on Svartalfheim. Deep down, he knew that. He had sacrificed himself, willingly, to save Thor; and the woman he loved, Jane Foster. But even in his last moments, Loki had thought of his mother. He had felt the magic she had bestowed upon him running through his veins, and in the end, he had refused to die. Because if he died, so would Frigga’s magic. There would be nothing left of her legacy, and Loki would not allow that to happen.
So he had changed his plan.
He had never intended to return to Earth. He had meant to rule Asgard under the guise of Odin, with no one the wiser. He had even been watching the antics of Thor and his mortal companions, the ones that called themselves The Avengers, from afar using his magic. But it was only a matter of time before yet another complication arose.
Loki knew that he needed to retrieve the scepter. Many called it his, but he knew it had never truly belonged to him. He had merely been a vessel, granted the ability to wield it. No, it belonged to someone far more powerful than even the greatest sorcerer in all the nine realms. Someone who even Loki had come to fear.
He couldn’t hide from Thanos forever. It was only a matter of time before he came looking for him. Perhaps, Loki thought, if he at least had the scepter, that it would be enough to appease his former benefactor.
Well, at least, it was worth a shot.
And so, the god of mischief once again found himself paying a visit to Earth. It was easy enough to cover his tracks on Asgard; with a proper diversion and a clone bearing Odin’s appearance left on the throne in his stead. Locating the scepter, however, turned out to be a bit more challenging of a feat.
It took time, but inevitably, Loki was able to track the scepter’s whereabouts to what he surmised was the new headquarters of the Avengers. He had to give them one thing; it was certainly a lot more subtle than a giant tower.
However, their security tech could have used some work. Still not entirely impervious to magical infiltrations; when would they ever learn?
Once Loki was inside, it didn’t take him long to find the scepter. It was being kept in a secluded, yet surprisingly spacious room in the basement of the building, almost akin to a storage room. The door would have been impenetrable for a mere mortal, but for the god of mischief, all it took was a simple spell to dissipate it and leave the doorway open.
Inside the room, the scepter itself was encased in glass, placed upon a podium in the center of the room. They might as well have gift-wrapped it for him. Loki was almost disappointed: it was going to be too easy.
That’s when he sensed it. A sudden, immense magical presence, the likes of which he hadn’t felt since Frigga was alive. And yet, at the same time, it was so noticeably different from the aura of an Asgardian mage. It was something greater, and yet more twisted, like the results of an experiment that had gone horribly wrong.
Something that was powerful enough to tear apart the very fabric of reality.
He turned towards the now-open doorway, and belatedly realized it might have been a better plan to phase through the door rather than dissolve it completely.
Through the shadows just beyond the doorway, he saw her. To the untrained eye, she might have been mistaken for a completely ordinary human woman; average height, physically slight, with a small, pale face that was partially hidden by a curtain of dark brown hair.
She was clothed completely in red and black, and it was clear from her attire that this was the mantle of an Enhanced individual. She wasn’t someone he would have recognized from the battle of New York, and yet he knew who she was. Even to the gaze of someone who had no idea who she was, they would know from just one look at her that she was affiliated with the Avengers.
And yet, there was something sinister about her. It was impossible to tell what color her eyes really were, for at the moment they were glowing a brilliant red. Her gloved hands were extended at her sides, and with each small twitch of her fingers, visible, tangible waves of scarlet magic began to appear to weave themselves around her hands, as if she had conjured them out of thin air.
Her expression was stern, and there was a threat behind those glowing red eyes that was not lost on Loki. All the same, he smiled at her.
“You must be the witch I’ve heard so much about.”
Almost in response, the woman lifted her hands and fired a blast of magic in Loki’s direction, with one swift flick of her wrists. In the split second it took for the attack to register in Loki’s mind, he had used his own magic to make himself intangible, and the magic passed right through him without harming him.
Even through the brief contact with the witch’s magic, Loki could tell that the blast was not any specific spell. The magic itself seemed to be a physical thing that would have knocked him backwards had it struck him while he was tangible.
The woman didn’t seem too surprised by the counter, and slowly she stepped through the doorway, beginning to cautiously move towards him. Her movements were as methodical as a carnivore in the wild, stalking its prey.
“I know who you are,” she said, her voice lilting with a Slavic accent.
“Do you, now?” Loki asked, inclining his head slightly as he watched her move closer. Despite her hostility towards him, his seemingly cordial demeanor did not waver.
“I have seen the footage,” she continued, by way of explanation. “You are the man who rained down hellfire in New York, four years ago.”
Loki huffed a soft laugh. “Has it really been that long?”
The witch’s eyes narrowed. Clearly she didn’t share in his amusement.
“You tried to rule the world.”
Loki smirked, deliberately dropping his voice an octave. “And I would have gotten away with it, if it weren’t for those meddling Avengers!”
Once again, Loki’s sense of humor was lost on her. “Why are you here, Loki?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I want this back,” he answered, gesturing towards the scepter. “And you’re here to try and stop me.”
She didn’t respond with words. Instead, she brought both of her hands forward and spiraled them around each other, quickly bringing up another ball of chaos magic. In almost the same instant, she swung one of her arms outward, shooting her magic towards Loki again. This time, Loki teleported himself out of the way of the blast, reappearing on the other side of the room, directly behind the witch.
“Boo.”
She whirled around to face him, putting her own body between Loki and the scepter. He thrust his own hand forward, casting a pale green bolt of his own magic toward her, but the witch was too quick and too clever for him. With a swing of her arm, she conjured up a shield made from her scarlet magic, protecting herself and the scepter from the attack. In fact, the magic in the shield was so strong that it absorbed Loki’s spell, rather than merely deflecting it.
Loki’s interest was peaked.
“Impressive,” he mused, raising an eyebrow at the girl. “But can you do this?”
With a gesture of his hands, several identical clones of himself unfolded from his form like a deck of cards, until they surrounded the witch in a perfect circle.
For a moment, Loki could tell he had disoriented the girl. Her eyes darted back and forth as she turned, searching for some clue as to which Loki was the real one. But soon, her expression turned to one of sheer, steely determination, and with a yell she threw her arms outwards, sending an explosion of scarlet out around herself in all directions.
Each of the clones quickly dissipated into the air, and the brunt of the blast hit the real Loki squarely in the abdomen. With a grunt more out of shock than actual pain, Loki was sent reeling to one side, his back making impact with the wall. He recovered himself quickly, straightening up with an icy glare at the witch as she turned to face him once again.
Even through his anger at having his magic bested, Loki couldn’t help but crack a smile.
“Remarkable,” he breathed, a grin beginning to spread across his face. “Let’s see what else you can do, shall we?”
“Enough talking,” she stated coldly, as she took a bold step forward.
Still grinning, Loki lifted his hands, conjuring up his throwing daggers. One by one he swiftly threw them at her, and one by one she deflected them with her magic, telekinetically sending the knives skittering harmlessly away across the floor as she advanced on him.
Once she was close enough, Loki switched up his tactic, darting his arm forward to grab her wrist as she was readying another ball of magic. Catching her off guard, he gave a tug and spun her around, her back hitting his chest as he brought up another knife to hold it just level with her throat.
He huffed out a breath, and it was ice cold against the back of her neck.
In a tactical error, he had left her other hand free. Without hesitation, she lifted it and pressed a blast of magic straight into her own chest. The scarlet strands of magic passed straight through her, as if her body wasn’t an obstacle whatsoever, and hit Loki with enough force to make him let go of her other wrist and drop his dagger. It clattered to the floor, and, now free, the witch wheeled on him, her face twisted with rage.
Before Loki had a chance to think of another approach, or even make another quip, the woman extended a hand towards him, the palm of her hand flattened, her fingers elongated, and his entire body suddenly seized up. He couldn’t move any of his limbs, and he struggled even to draw breath. It was as if an invisible hand had wrapped itself around his heart, threatening to squeeze at any moment.
Slowly, the witch raised her other hand, her fingers curling inward like a claw, and more and more scarlet magic began to cover Loki’s body, holding him in place.
In that moment, the god of mischief experienced something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Fear.
The woman’s expression shifted; as if she could tell exactly what he was thinking. Within moments, it became clear that, in fact, she could.
“I can see your fear,” she said, her voice scarcely above a whisper. “Your pain…your anger…” As she spoke, her voice gradually began to grow louder, as she sifted through his mind. “Your…jealousy, and your grief. How you have suffered…”
Briefly, something passed over the woman’s face that almost looked like sympathy. However, it dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, and was once again replaced by a look of contempt. “…How you wish to inflict that suffering onto others. You think that holding power over others will bring you peace. That you will prove yourself to those who have wronged you.”
Her expression grew even colder. “You’re wrong,” she told him. “All that you have done is show them that you really are nothing but the monster they thought you were. If you truly wanted to prove yourself, you would show them how wrong they were.”
She suddenly went silent, hesitating. She had seen something in his mind that she hadn’t been expecting.
Then the moment passed, and her face hardened with anger once again.
“You do not deserve redemption.”
She began to move her hand, and Loki was helpless but to comply with her magic. He bent at the knees, his body starting to tremble involuntarily.
The witch stared him in the eyes, and he stared back up at her with awe and disbelief.
“Kneel,” she whispered.
He had no choice but to obey, and at the will of her magic, the god of mischief sank to his knees before her. Her hold on him loosened imperceptibly, just enough to allow him to breathe once again.
He was close enough to her now to see the color of her eyes. Not the glowing red they took on when her powers manifested themselves. Even as she held him there, paralyzed by her magic, her eyes were a deep forest green.
“Who are you?” he asked, with what strength he could still muster.
She was silent for a moment, and then chose to give him an answer.
“I am the Scarlet Witch.”
“Your name,” Loki insisted. “I must know.”
“Get used to disappointment.”
He sucked in a breath, his eyes wide as he regarded her with something just on the cusp of reverence.
“You…” he gasped out, “…are spectacular.”
Her hand tightened into a fist, gathering a tight ball of scarlet magic around it. The magic hit his face before her punch did, and it was unclear which of the two was what rendered him unconscious.
He sank to the floor as she withdrew her magic’s hold on him, and for a moment, all she could do was stand over him, gasping for breath.
A moment later, Steve Rogers came dashing through the doorway, and stopped short to take in the sight that greeted him.
“The scepter is secure,” she told him.
“And it looks like you’ve apprehended the intruder,” he said, once he had processed the initial surprise. “Well done, Wanda. You didn’t even need my help at all.”
In spite of herself, Wanda gave a small, proud smile.
She took a step back to let Steve pass her, and watched him scoop the Asgardian up in a fireman’s lift.
“What will you do with him?” she asked, unable to repress her curiosity.
“Take him in for questioning,” Steve answered. “He’s supposed to be under Asgard’s jurisdiction, but since no one can get ahold of Thor…we’ll have to make do.”
Wanda nodded.
“I understand.”
She lingered behind a little longer to collect herself, even after Steve had left the room, taking the unconscious Loki with him.
She couldn’t deny to herself that what she had seen in Loki’s mind had shocked, disturbed, and infuriated her. And yet, what deeply unsettled her was the great potential for good she had seen in him. It had almost saddened her, how a man with such goodness in him had chosen to do evil.
On top of all of that, perhaps most unsettling of all, she was struck by the way he had looked at her. When she held his life in her hands, when she had revoked all control away from him and brought him quite literally to his knees. The look in his eyes had not been fear, or anger. Instead, he had looked at her like no one else ever had, not even Vision.
Of all people, the man who called himself a god had looked at her as if she were a goddess.
[ Mainly setting this here for oui-roronoazoro, who was interested in my fics, and since this is the popular one, here you go. I haven't updated in forever but hopefully that changes soon. ]
