Captain Witwicky Novels & Stories

The three adults felt a weight melt away from them. “It’s going to be okay,” Damian said, bouncing her. “We’re going to be okay.” *************** Meanwhile, Captain Whitlock and Lucien were locked away in Mark’s office. “Again,” the captain ordered. “I’ve done it a hundred times at least! Let me out of here,”

"I won't say it. I won't say it even if I die. Zion, we are brothers. If you ask me to keep the secret, I will definitely not betray you. Even if my mommy hit me, I won't say it. Look, my butt is going to blossom." Wisdom pitifully took off his pants. His swollen buttocks made Zion narrow his eyes slightly and his little hands unconsciously tighten. "Your mom beat you?" "Yes, it hurts!" Wisdom said with grievance, with tears in his eyes, but he endured it secretly and said with a smile, "I'm pretty tough, this is my superpower, right? If I'm a superhero, what would you call me?" "Captain Butt-kicked." Zion answered. "Right, right! I'm Captain Butt-kicked! I am a great superhero! Citizens of

I tilt my head to the side, experimenting, and am desperately pleased when the fire goes wide and low, creating a wide ring on the ground instead of a tall funnel. “God damn it,” the Captain says, his face bursting into a grin. Then he looks over at me. “How…how big can it get?” I glance over at Jackson who looks down at me, quite casual. “I’ve got…acres of power left in me, Ari. I’m not kidding when I say this is a croissant.” When I look back at the Captain his face is twisted in confusion. “A croissant?” I laugh. “He just means it can get big. Really big.”

"We're out here representing the Frostbite Wolves. Remember team honor. Don’t wander off without telling someone. Don’t drink too much. Don’t do anything that’ll make Coach kill me tomorrow. We have a long bus ride back, and I refuse to spend it cleaning up after anyone who gets sick. My arm already gives me enough problems.” The team immediately started teasing him. Big Mike grinned. “Damn, Cap. You sound more like Coach than Coach does.” Lee laughed. “Relax, man. We’re not kids.” Kowalski added, “Yeah, live a little. You act like you’re forty instead of twenty-something.” Marcus was the worst. He saluted dramatically. “Aye aye, Captain! We’ll be on our best behavior… probably.” Liam sighed

First day on the job and I’m hauling my camera bag through the arena tunnels, heart hammering because this was supposed to be my break through. I had studied this team like the palm of my hand. I spotted him right away. Riven Holt. Captain. Star forward. The guy everyone talked about like he was some kind of hockey god. Tall, built like he could break someone in half without trying, dark hair messy from practice, jaw set like he was permanently pissed off. He was barking orders at some rookies near the bench, voice sharp enough to cut glass. “New girl,” he called out when he noticed me standing there fiddling with my lens. “You the photographer? Let’s see what you got from warm-ups.”

We won the next game too. Back home, the city noticed. There was a piece in the sports section, a short one, four paragraphs, about the Vipers' new offensive chemistry, the "unlikely pairing" of their captain and their volatile new acquisition. The writer called us complementary. He used the phrase "symbiotic danger," which I read three times on my phone in the elevator up to my apartment and then put away.

"What did you say, you little..." "Enough." One word. Low, deep, and commanding. It stopped James in his tracks. The team captain walked in. Alexander Whitman, as the public knew him was a giant. He was six-foot-four of pure muscle, with jet-black hair and grey eyes that looked like storm clouds. He was the "Ice King," the man who never lost. He was also, Oliver noted privately, extremely hot. Alexander didn't look at Oliver. He looked at James. "Coach is waiting. Get your gear."

I know how he moves when he's not wearing pads, I can't imagine this will be fun for him. "Cap, you’re leading the first unit," I say in a monotone, "Strong side, tight turns. Don't get lazy on the pivot." Kai finally looks at me. His eyes are dark, simmering with a mix of resentment and that toxic familiarity that made my stomach flip. "I've been doing this drill since I was six, Coach," he spits, the title sounding like an insult. "I think I know where the pivot is." "Then do it right," I snap, "Instead of looking for a camera to smile at. Go."

She was standing here in the lion’s den, unflinching. And I hated that I admired her for it. I turned away, leading her into the warehouse. The air inside was heavy with the stench of sweat and stale smoke. My men moved us as we walked toward the center of the room, where a circle of chairs surrounded a single, empty table. Across from me stood Viktor, a man I’d once trusted. A man who had betrayed me. “You’re late,” Viktor sneered, his dark eyes narrowing. “I’m here, aren’t I?” I replied, my voice cold, detached.

Even in the nick of time, the captain can be insulting. “Then why are you even here? Taking the Gori-gori with the only four of you—no, the three of you—” the captain pointed at them except Rina. “—and you who are not even a Bronze level pathfinder… Useless!! You’re just going to screw us and we’ll have to deal with your dead body later. Go home, kids.” The captain finally said. Then he turned around to leave again, but Jai held him firm. “Let us help you.” Jai said.